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pursuitseternal · 1 year ago

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“You had better tie me up, darling…” very nsfw (f*ck or die) update for Rogue Astarion in part 7 “Bites in the Night”

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 5.5K F*ck or Die Smut

Summary: He isn’t well… something he’s consumed… the blood of a Succubus in the heat of battle by mistake. He needs release… help… or else undead won’t be an accurate description of your vampire rogue any longer.

CW: rough sex, bondage, Sex Pollen Trope but blame those Succubi, feral rutting, blood kink (does that go without saying yet?), implied shared infection, tongue bath, raunchy and yet sweet confessions from his undead lips.

Read on AO3 | Series on AO3 | Master List

Better get your rope…

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Sunset always brought the demons out to play… and this time it had been real. Everything about the Shadow Cursed Lands fit the name… but you had all made it at last to the Last Light Inn.

Not without blood spatter and slaughter, fear and relief once victory over the Hellspawn was won.

Now at last, you can take your rest. In peace.

Most of your companions still drink and eat to their heart’s content. Of course, not your Rogue. After the fight, he had looked… gaunt. Tired. You had promised to come and let him feed, but first you needed your fill. He had flashed his smile at you before heading up the creaking stairs.

That was an hour ago. Now, you make your way to those same stairs, only to catch Shadowheart hustling down with wide eyes, Gale looking much the same as he follows.

“Come with us,” they whisper, leading you up the stairs in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, anxiety darking your tone.

“It’s Astarion, he’s… unwell.” Gale… always so vague and polite.

“He’s in a rut,” Shadowheart snips back, exactly. “Literally.”

“What?” you startle.

“During the fight, he must have bitten and drank Succubus blood.” Gale rubs his fingers at his temple. “He’s locked in his room, but I fear he will claw his way through the door until he finds… relief.”

“Sex, you mean?” you can’t help but correct him too.

“It’s bad,” Shadowheart presses her lips together. “The blood is ten times worse than the spittle. Like, if he doesn’t find relief soon he could expire. Again. It’ll last him a full day to work out of his system.”

Your eyes go wide, your stomach sinking as well as your jaw. “Isn’t there some countermeasure? Some spell or… or potion?”

Shadowheart opens her hands, a small scroll in it. “Not for him, but for…”

“Me…” you realize. Your body tingles with the idea, that heady mix of fear of death and thrill of fucking with him. It always swims in your system before you go to his bed, but this time. It feels… more… exhilarating. More deadly. Riskier.

“It’s a scroll of Greater Protection… just in case he gets carried away.” Gale’s face screws into a look of discomfort.

“Keep your cunny from giving out on you.” Shadowheart winks.

That sinches up the knots in your stomach now. And by the time your cleric recites the spell, the dust in the air swirling into your lungs, you know you can’t turn back. You can’t forsake him.

You take a breath once they both wish you good luck, reassurances that the spell should be enough to keep you safe… but that they would come running if needed. That’s when Shadowheart stops you one more time, behind Gale’s back. She makes her face shush you silently as she shoves something into your hands.

A coil of rope. It tingles… enchanted probably for extra strength… that it could hold a deranged, sex-crazed vampire if worse came to worse.

That’s when you head up another flight of stairs, your heart beating faster with each step. Especially as you hear the grunts and growls that crescendo as you reach the landing. It’s easy to tell which room is his, the light under the door burns bright… the sounds of his voice raw and feral…

You hover your hand over the knob, sensing the magic that’s sealed him in. But you stop… that sound inside, you can tell already how he’s plagued. Rough, wet, and fast. The slap of his own hand tending to his… need.

You swallow, the beating of his fist on his cock already making you wet. Hells below… if there wasn't part of you that was just… tantalized. A small part, mostly cloaked in that heady fear to preserve your life.

But you feared no danger. And you by now… he would listen.

Maybe.

One last squeeze of the chord in your hand, you gripped the charged metal of the door, throwing it open.

He is naked, sitting on the edge of the bed at the back of the little room. His teeth glint in the firelight, his ivory skin glowing with sweat. Gods, if he had blood in his body, you are sure he would be beet red. His profile cut like the masterpiece he was. His throat bobbing as he swallows, the muscles of his arm bulging as he pleasures himself at a terrifying pace.

The sound as you shut the door behind him finally draws his attention.

He is… wild. Feral. Eyes so dilated, you can barely make out the ring of scarlet in them. His face shines from his exertions, he growls… like an animal… the second he sets eyes on you. His nose sniffing so hard at your scent… you can watch it open and close.

“Out!” He snarls, rising to his feet. That’s when you take in the full extent of his… suffering. He’s so erect, bigger than you have ever seen him. Harder. Throbbing so hard you witness it… where it stands almost vertically. Those intricate veins that usually rise subtly from his length strain dark, a web over his pale skin. “I’ll not hurt you, darling. Not you. Get out! I won’t have you!” He snaps his jaws. Every muscle in his body straining as he stands in place.

As if he’s fighting with himself.

“You will have me,” you snap back. “You don’t have a choice, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Not if you want to keep yourself in this realm. Undead you might be, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive… undead…”

That made him smile. Dark, wicked and still slightly manic. But it was there.

His eyes rake down your body, devouring you as he dares to let himself take one step. His eyes fall to your hand, the tangle of rope hanging visibly at your side. “Seems someone had the wisdom to not to send you in here defenseless and you stink of protective magic. Good,” he shudders as he talks. That voice sounding hollow. Pressed. Barely above a snarl. “I haven’t said this to many… but you had better tie me up, darling…”

He groans, forcing his body to move stiffly to the bed. The wood frame creaks and cracks as he crawls in, his rigid frame laying down.

That erection makes your mouth water, despite the obvious agony your vampire is enduring. But you can’t help but be mesmerized by how tall it stands as he pants on the bed. You cross to him, he can’t look at you, holding his hands out for you to bind.

Your hands work quickly, securing his arms firmly together, wrapping them to the scrollwork of the headboard.

His breathing is rough, ragged. His body twitches, shuddering each time your fingers barely grazie his arms and wrists. “Please,” he groans. “If you’re going to do this, then by the hells do it!”

His eyes are wide as he strains to look at you.

Your body aches, sympathy pains twitch down your spine to watch him quivering on the sheets. Your skin feels hot, your own body breaking into a sweat. He’s licking his lips, “Gods, if you go any slower getting something on this cock of mine, I can’t promise your safety, darling…”

You reach for that straining length, the second you wrap your fingers around it, he throbs and groans and twitches. His hips bucking into your hand, legs propped up so he can fuck anything you can get around his cock. You beat against his thrusts, that hardness unrelenting even as you move quicker than you usually do. Looking into his face, you move even faster, his face contorted in agony, his teeth biting so hard into his lips he’s bleeding.

He thrusts and groans and cries as he comes. Spurts of his seed drip down his shaft, coating his already damp lap, trailing milky streams as far as his belly.

But his breathing eases for a moment, his muscles softening just a bit perceptively. And Astarion gives a single contented sigh. “All that with just your hand. You little minx… pacing yourself?” he purrs. “Won’t you at least kiss me hello?”

You give him a small grin, at least he sounds like himself. His eyes are a bit more focused, his voice a bit more silken.

What harm could one kiss do?

You lay alongside him, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you touch, you can feel it, the heat, the lust, and the agony roaring full force through his veins. He’s straining on his bonds, trying to claw you into him. His mouth consumes you, sucking your lips inside his mouth, drawing them deep enough for him to bite. The tang of blood covers your tongue. And his.

He’s frenzied for more, biting you again and again. Drinking the blood that leaks from your kiss. Then you feel it, his legs, untethered, grip around your waist, sliding you to cover his naked, throbbing body. “Astarion!” you cry, muffled by his mouth. But he has you pinned between his thighs. Not unlike that first day in the wreckage.

His erection presses into your belly, he’s grinding it against the linen of your shirt. Rough and aggressive. As if he means to tear a hole in the soft fabric. He keeps you there, humping and riding into your abdomen. Grinding against your mound. Sucking and drinking your kiss as long as you let him.

Not that you have much of a choice, caught in his legs. “Easy,” you breathe, managing to steal your mouth back for the moment. “Easy…” you soothe again, making your body bear down against where he dry fucks against you.

“There is nothing I have in mind to do to you that would be easy…” he hisses. His voice almost sounds… not of this realm. And you press out of the clutches of his fangs. But he just raises his head higher, eyes crazed at the sight of the wounds he’s made on your bleeding and split lips.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you catch his throat under your palm. “It’s for your own good.” You feel his breath rasp, the ragged swallows of spit under your palm.

“The minx has claws…” he growls as you keep his head down.

“Only when you make me use them, Astarion,” you smirk. “Now, if you can keep your mouth to yourself, I’d be more than happy to put mine to other uses.”

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “It’s unbearable, the lust, the need to drive into you. Please put me out of this agony, darling. Please…”

The second you wrap your lips around that fleshy, pulsing head, his cock twitches out of your reach. With a smile and a lick of your tongue, you grip his straining, iron length, holding it steady as you run from base to bulging tip. The bitter tang of his cum fills your mouth. Making you swallow. Making you realize just how used to it you will be before the day of this torment is through.

You manage to still him enough with his squirming and bucking to get your mouth around him. Gods, it’s like stone in your mouth, every vein dragging over your tongue and you suck. You manage to bob your head up and down, avoiding the way he’s thrusting to get more of him down your throat.

The noises from his throat sound pained… agonized panting for more. “That’s it…” he’s hissing as you swirl your tongue around that ridge of his head. “Gods, do that again.” You do, laughing in your throat as you run your tongue over that seeping slit in his tip… so tight as you lap the stains of his cum. You feel it under your hand that works the base of his cock, that thickening, quickening spasm.

He howls, jamming his length into your pursing lips. And this time, you let him. His seed spills down your throat, spurting over your tongue and dripping in your cheeks. More with every pulse as he slowly begins to still again.

One last suck, you swallow him down. Greedily. Wondering if that succubus magic isn’t somehow in your system too. It’s heady, intoxicating. The way he’s glaring at you with his flame-kissed, glistening sweaty face.

But for now, he’s calmer. For now. “Darling…” he’s sighing as he tries to ease into the bed. “You… didn’t have to do this, you know. It’s still such a risk… if I didn’t… care for you… who knows how much of your body would be in one piece when this finally passes.”

“Oh I’m sure I’d leave in one piece… but maybe mostly bloodless and unable to walk straight…” you laugh leaning over him, placing a kiss on his dampened lips.

He slips his tongue in right away, searching for the taste of him in your mouth. He growls again, that throbbing suffering of lust raging beneath his skin again. “I want to see you,” he snarls. “I want to take you naked this time, my pet.” You shiver at the echo of pure desire in his silken voice. As if it doesn’t always drip with seduction. This… you shiver. This was even more wild, unchecked, feral. The need to rut. To fuck.

He looks at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, so dark with his lust, his attraction for you, you feel your own arousal dripping between your thighs. He purrs,“I want to be inside you, darling…”

Your hands couldn’t tug your clothes off fast enough, cursing the practicality of breeches. At last, you stood as he wished. Bared. Ready.

You scramble on the bed, throwing your legs around him. He seems… steadier. Still harder than rock, but less desperate. He strains against his binds, wriggling his lean and wiry body beneath you. So beautiful, every etched line of his muscles, every rise of his stomach, every vein that protrudes in his arms.

You caress him, once on his chest. So damp with sweat. Running your tongue up the center of those muscles, he shivers. The salt of his body makes your mouth water again.

“Hells, are we sure you haven’t ingested the same as me, my sweet?” He croons with a soft little laugh. “Or is this just all for me, darling, to ease my suffering.”

“To keep you alive? I’d do so much more than just lick the sweat from your body,” you taunt back, your voice so low and sultry, you barely recognize it.

He flashes his fangs at you, licking his lips. “Like slipping that sweet cunt on me? Riding me until you are dripping again?”

Ugh… you moan. “Yes,” you pant, “like that.”

The moment he feels your drenched folds hover over his cock, he spears into you. He screams at your union. “Sweet hells,” he groans, voice rasping and sore. “Yes, darling, give me everything. I can take it all…”

You lean over him, your hair cascading down in a curtain as you splay your hands on either side of his head. Barely brushing against his damp, unruly silver locks. You give the smallest rise of your body, the steadiest drag of your walls around his cock. He cants his hips beneath you, timing just right to shove up into your cunt as you settle back down.

A chorus of groans escape you both. He’s sputtering, “Please, darling, again,” over and over. Each time you give him what he wants, only to have him careening up into you harder. Begging for you to go faster.

Soon, your pace is breakneck, your own body shimmering in sweat as you buck and writhe and groan.

His eyes never blinking, those dark black pupils are wide as he watches your face twisting as you chase your own climax, flickering to the swaying of your breasts as they slap together each time you fuck him. They dart to watch where you are joined, where his stiffening cock pierces between your thighs, drenched in his cum and your arousal with every loud, squelching slap you make.

He’s merciless, finally hitching his hips to drive the hardest into you yet. You feel it when he comes inside you now, the sheer volume of his spew, hot and dripping from inside those walls where he’s buried in deep. Your belly aches from where he’s hammering against the end of your channel. More cum with each twitching spurt you feel. He screams like one wounded, his orgasm drawn out as you chase your peak yet. But he’s panting beneath you, catching his breath as he licks his lips.

Even more limp this time.

You’re relieved in your heart, even if your loins ache from the friction, the need to still release your own bliss. His brows furrow, his lips pouting as he looks into your eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you gasp, even as your arms quiver and your thighs shake with the need to continue.

“No,” he squirms and tugs at the tethers. “Infernal rope. If you just let me free, I swear I’ll make it up to you…”

Your mouth waters. He would probably just find a way to break it or chew through that rope if he had to. A smirk plays across your lips, leaning forward to reach your knots. His cock slips out from inside you as you do, making him groan again.

The rope tugs apart in your fingers. Instantly his hands pull free, he shoves you over his face, so close already as you lean forward. He growls, his tongue slipping into your folds. His hands claw into your, gripping at the backs of your knees, spreading you wider as he eats into your cunt with all the hunger you feel raging in his body.

Starving, he feasts on you, and it takes all your strength to hold yourself up, hands splayed on the mattress over his head. That swirl of his tongue… that sucking of his lips on your clit, you already creep closer and closer to that swirl of heat simmering ready to consume you. It sweeps through you, cresting and tearing from your core up your spine.

And then, the world spins. His arms clutch around your legs, throwing you over. You're screaming, still spasming and clenching around nothing. Until your back is sprawled on the bed… until he’s shoved his cock into the last dregs of your orgasm. It makes you whimper his name once more, until you feel another spasm ripping through you.

Only this time, he’s pounding into you, thrust by thrust. Giving you something long and hard and cold splitting you in two as you go limp beneath him. His mouth descends on yours, sucking your breath from your body even as he traps your lips, your tongue with his own.

Manic, driven, he fucks you like one possessed, eyes wide as he finally pins you beneath him. Having his way with you as he chases that required release.

You lay back, still swollen and numb from your pleasure. But he is nowhere near close, not as his hands claw down your side, latching around your legs to make you wrap around his narrow waist. “Gods, you’re so tight, so wet… there have been none like you, darling. None I have wanted as badly as you.” He growls, fingers reaching around the backs of your ass, clamping into your cheeks. He raises you just enough to drag his length all the deeper. Making you keen and mewl and sputter incoherently.

Every nerve in your body hums, every patch of pleasure between your thighs feels him inside you. Gods, if it wasn’t for that scroll, you are certain you would pass out, lying there unconscious while he works this tainted blood from his own body.

By using yours.

By using you.

It makes you smile. Twisted and delighted to be so at his disposal. You were used to his fangs in your neck, his cock plowed into your cunt and his hips clenched between your thighs… but this…

This was intoxicating. Unbridled, unihibited fucking.

For his own sake of course.

That tainted blood and its magic being burned up with each time he filled you to bursting with his seed.

And as if his fixated eyes, hazy with his lust, can read your thoughts, he groans as he thrusts the harshest into you yet. So deep and hard and wild, you wriggle and claw against him as if you could shove him away from where he prods at the end of your cunt. But he only laughs. A laugh swallowed up as he is thrown off by another climax, another spilling of his cum that runs down your body and sticks to your skin. He pants as he looks straight into your face, manic and depraved.

“By the time this is through, your belly will swell from me, won’t it, darling? So filled with my cum, gods, you’ll be leaking for a week. For a fortnight.” He kisses into your neck, your body shivering at the chill of his breath on your skin. “And I’ll have the pleasure of smelling it, of remembering every time you took it so well, darling. I’m so very pleased…”

You look at him, half lidded and panting as he lifts his mouth from your flesh. “As I am…” you hum, running your hands up the ridges of his back, over those mysterious lines of Infernal, to thread your fingers into his damp silver hair.

He purrs as he kisses your lips, a sigh of his satisfaction as he tangles his tongue with yours. You taste yourself still in his mouth. Always so hungry, he is. It makes you wonder… “Aren't you going to beg me to feed, Astarion?”

“Hmm, if the offer is on the table, I’d love nothing more than to sup on… all… that you have to offer…”

He slowly slinks down your body. Your breath quickens, heart racing as he wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs. “Sweet hells, you're going to…”

The lap of his tongue up your seam again unravels you immediately. Your hands fly into his hair, pushing him away and pulling him deeper into your cunt with equal measure. You don’t know which you want more. He’s feeding on you, humming in delighted pleasure as he licks his cum from your folds, his eyes gazing up into your face as you pant and watch. Mesmerized by every dart and swirl of his pink tongue.

He licks his lips, “There is only one thing sweeter than the taste of us,” he purrs, low and deep in his throat, before he laps in a long, wet streak up your thigh. “Your blood, darling, my first living blood, and the last I ever want to drink in the realm…”

Your heart skips a beat, his words sweetening the pain of his bite into your thigh’s supple flesh. “Yes, love, yes,” you feel the wave of your joining… your connection by blood as you now fill him as he has filled you.

“That’s why I call you my sweet, you know… my little treat. None I have tasted… nothing comes close to how your blood sings in my veins like the way your body trembles beneath me.”

He bites you again and again up and down your thigh… little nips of his fangs, making blood drip down the softness of your skin as he licks every tiny trickle.

And all the while, he growls hungrily as he feeds.

It isn’t pain that fills you… not even pleasure. It is pure rapture. Pure bliss that rides up and down your spine. His fingers slowly, languorously curling into your folds, catching on that secret spot just inside that he knows so well.

“You’ve been so generous,” he purrs, letting the low rumbles of his voice shake into your already throbbing folds. “So good to help me through this. Giving me everything.” He glances up from between your thighs, pure wicked delight on his handsome face. “Well, I hope you haven’t given me everything. I think this tainted blood is going to take much, much more before it’s through…”

He pauses his sweet words to circle your clit, sucking it hard in time with the pulsing of those long, cold fingers inside you.

“You will come for me again, won’t you?”

You can’t even get a word in before he builds you to bursting. Driving you to shatter on his hand, under his mouth, as that voracious tongue laps at the arousal that spills from you. Your world spins, nothing but his touch on your skin, his fingers still clenched deep in your cunt.

You’re floating, limp as your muscles flood with warmth and pleasure. Steadied only by the bed at your back and the little sucks of his lips and the wet passes of his tongue over the blood on your thighs.

“Mmm,” he hums as he draws himself up to sit between your outstretched legs. “Every time with you is just perfect. And not just because it’s chasing the devil from my veins, you know…”

He shifts over you, dragging that heavy, cold, unyielding body across your skin. Making you shiver. Spasm. Making you reignite with desire for more of him again and again. That knee… that wicked, provocative knee… it creeps beneath yours to hook you, to spread you wide again as he glides his cock through the mess of your unions already drenching you.

“Seems you still have some of the devil in you, needing to be driven away, hmm?” you flirt, trying to maintain some composure, until he grinds against your already overstimulated folds, your aching clit, reducing you to nothing but moans and spasm.

And he laughs. “Why, my darling, it seems your body is as raging as mine.” His hands stroke against your cheek, fingers teasing their tips into your errant strands of hair that stick to your face. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the one infected, if I didn’t still have this raging erection needing release…”

You catch him by surprise, buckling your knees around his waist, the wetness of your cunt almost drawing him inside you as you buck against him.

He groans, just a little thrust of his hips and he’s sheathed, so deep and already pulsing with that tainted, blinding need to fuck again.

You giggle, watching his eyes darken, his lids lowering to gaze with all the raging lust in his body upon the one he desires. The only one. As he is yours. You sigh, running your hands up those intricate scars of his back, “I am infected too, you know. Infected by my need for you, perhaps.”

His kiss descends to cover your lips, but it is one of tenderness. Longing. Unsated need softened by the affection that brims in the way he takes you this time.

He is slower, deliberate. Each thrust an offering of adoration for your body. Each drag of his cock inside your folds an expression of his gratitude, his devotion.

His proclamation that you are, in fact, perfect.

Your body rides his, melting into every motion your legs tight around his narrow waist, his arms slinking around your shoulders, pressing your face into the broadness of his shoulder. You gasp against his neck, wrapped in his pleasuring of you, as if you could pull him into your very being more.

That rhythm, that rocking, it begins to sweep you away, binding you to his body. Claiming you for his own. That same fever crawls in his veins as he clutches at you, that tempo increasing harsher. Faster. Until he’s groaning with all his feral drive again.

He pulls out from you, only to slam himself into your cunt, every inch of that long, pulsing length of his filling you to bursting.

He can’t take his eyes off you, raised up in his hands now. His crimson glare consumes your every reaction, every twitch and grin and grimace of painful bliss that he commands from you. Pummeling into you over and over again, your hands claw into his shoulders, slipping down his back to savor the feeling of every undulation of his hips into your core.

“So good… so perfect…” he purrs, ravenous in his gaze, “my only blood… my living blood…” the hard lines of his body ride over every nerve in yours. Your body burns. On fire. Consumed. His words tingle in your ear, caressing your heart that raps in your chest, pattering in time with his merciless thrusts.

It’s brutal, it’s unrelenting.

It’s wonderful. The sliding of his sweat soaked body over yours, your skin flaming and damp. “Hells,” you groan as that thick head of his cock presses and drags over that sweet spot in your channel. “Astarion…” you moan his name, almost incoherent aside from all he is.

“Mmmm darling,” he rasps, “no sweeter sound than my name on your lips… well,” he hums giving you thighs and extra hard slap that squelches with all your sweat and arousal, “aside from the way your body sounds as you take me over and over again so eagerly…”

Your eagerness peaks, your body ripping in two around the rapid plundering inside you. You sputter his name again, a moan that tears from your throat, a scream that makes his handsome face twisting in ecstasy as he rams hardest yet, pulsing and hitching and forcing his eyes to stare as you unravel. Sopping and drenched, the warmth of your fresh slick mingles with his, coating your thighs and his as it seeps from where you couple.

He groans, dropping his weight on you, blanketing you in his scent and sweat and panting frame. He places his damp forehead against your cheek, his cool breath making you shiver as he finally seems to relax. Even if his cock is still hardened and buried inside you.

You feel the rigid planes of his body slipping across yours with every one of your combined breaths. Signing in relief, you relish just how dirty you feel.

How dirty you’ve been.

“Once this has worked its way from your system, you will need to bathe me,” you pant. Your fingers linger and stray through the damp and sweaty curls of silver that stick to his face.

“That can be arranged…” those eyes, that face suddenly twisting again with all the depravity he still has simmering under his skin and in his mind. “Or would you settle for my tongue instead, darling?”

You shake your head, face bright, amused and skeptical. “As if you could accomplish that without bending me over in your state…”

“Mmmm,” he nuzzles against you, tilting his face to run the cold, damp pad of his tongue up your jaw. Laughing as you tremble. “You assume I could accomplish such a feat as resisting your charms without this suffering of tainted blood…”

He slips his cock from inside you, and you moan into his mouth, turning to bring that taunting smirk against your lips. Just for a moment kissing him, before he returns to lapping and caressing your sweat soaked cheek. You sigh with relief, stretching your legs, clenching them together to relieve the throbbing of your muscles.

And this was with that magical healing to sustain you.

You shake your head, in amused, affectionate irritation. Feeling his still erect cock beginning to rub against your hip. His tongue darts across your neck, the unvoiced question in the deliberate lapping and dragging of his fangs on your flushed and pulsing neck.

“For the love, please,” you pant, arching into him with your feverish body, your lust still matching his each time it rises, even as your muscles and marrow scream for reprieve. “Just a bit of rest, love, surely that tainted blood’s hold on you is lessened…”

“But what of your hold on me, hmm?” he rasps into the rapid pulse of your neck. “What if it’s not the succubus whose magic has consumed me, driven me mad and feral, making me no more than a rutting beast…” he gives that low throated giggle. “Your fault, you know, my sweet.”

You breathe heavily, aroused and exhausted in equal measure. “I take full blame,” you laugh weakly, “but it’s only because you’re so beautiful…”

“And witty… and passionate…” he adds a roll of his hips as he utters that last word, grinding that still hardened cock against your side.

“Just… a breath,” you plead. “Just a moment. You don’t seem to be so near death’s door now…”

“I’ll try not to take offense at that barb, given how good you’ve been and how much I’ve fucked you senseless,” he chides.

You laugh again, a bit of a whine in your voice. “Can’t you take care of just one by yourself…”

He murmurs in your ear. “Darling, I’ll take my pleasure from you in every way, in every hole, until this tainted blood is burned up in the blaze of my lust for you,” he groans, “or until I’ve completely exhausted you, leaving you spent and heaving. And then I’ll simply seek my own pleasure just at the sight of you sleeping.”

You stretch, clenching your whole body hoping for that release and rest. If he lets you have it for a moment. “Mmmm, well love, sounds like I’ll really need that bath in the morning any way you come at it…”

He giggles again. Naughty. Dirty. His hand now wrapped firmly around his cock, rubbing for himself, letting it beat against your skin softly. “Oh… I’ll come at it, don’t you fret… darling.”

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 4 months ago

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eat your words ◦ l.f

-in a spiral of whiskey-induced stupidity, you claim felix couldn't dominate you even if he tried—oh, how he's going to make you eat your words.

Paring◦ First time dom!Lee Felix x sub!Reader

Words◦ 2290

Genre ◦ smut, porn with NO plot 😋

Warnings ◦ teasing, kissing, biting, felix being a cocky little shit, questionable dialogue, praise, clothes ripping, boob groping,the start of some fingering, uhhh I think that's it

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222 my little pookie wookie sweetie pie <33

A/N ◦ this was originally supposed to be super hard smut like the kinkiest sex known to man kind but then mid way through I found out I HATE writing smut 😃soooo you guys are getting the weird little build up I did to get to the actual smut part and I may or may not a million years in the future write a continuation very unlikely though I really hope I didn't disappoint anybody 🫶

~cookiecreates ��

“I don't think you can do it,” You shrug your shoulders, staring at your smirking reflection swirling in the amber glass. His face shifts, a brow lifting ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable, but the way his eyes harden into a sharp, dangerous gaze isn't—challenging, testing irises narrowing like a predator stalking its prey. It was an odd metaphor, sure, but the way he gripped his cup in his hands, squeezing until his flesh turned white, made you tremble both in anticipation and terror, it was the type of fear that made your brain fog and your heart pound, and as the warm whiskey sloshed against the rim of the cup, you could have sworn; you saw the glass bend.

Humans are complicated structures like thick, vibrant layers of dried paint, but when you chip us into the rawest form of art, the naked easel, we are straightforward creatures, and sometimes all you need to do is prod the right places to get there.

“I don't think you can be dominant,” you smile against the edge of your drink, tipping the rest of the liquid back. Maybe it was the whiskey that made you lie or the almost intrinsic need to feel his hands digging into your hips, but either way, your mouth seemed to move without your mind's consent, and right now your vagina didn't care which one it was.

“And why's that?" He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his lips quirking in a devilish grin. He cocks his head to the side, almost daring you to answer like either way; your words will be wrong. You squeeze your folded thighs in some feeble form to ease the tension that pulses between your legs, clit begging for his attention, longing for his touch, your needy, needy for him.

“You're so…” You tip your cup, a finger lightly teasing the rim, your eyes wander, toying with his patience. You act so nonchalant, so sure in your statement in the way you bounce the glass around as if you couldn't be bothered by the potential consequences of your actions, but little did he know lust smells like whiskey and wine—a rich sort of tang, and as you taste the words on your tongue, the thought of sex has never sounded so-

“Sweet,” your gaze lands on him in all his taut glory, annoyance pulsating off of him in waves. His back is tense against the chair as he folds his arms, both making his black dress shirt hug his chest and sinch around his biceps. He has never looked so alluring, so delectable, so tempting. He sucks his teeth, tongue pressing against his cheek.

“You know, I'm going to make you eat your words,” he states confidently, stretching his arms on the top of the chair, spreading his legs apart, flaunting his growing bulge. Saliva pools in your mouth, the only thing keeping you from drooling is the way you press your lips together, blinking back the waves of arousal that soak your panties.

"Well, what are you waiting for?” he beckons you with two fingers before promptly gesturing to his lap. “Don't tell me you're having second thoughts already.” You hop up from your chair, tossing your drained glass onto the bar beside you; practically tripping to sit on his lap.

"Someone's eager,” he smirks, wrapping thick fingers around the colom of your neck, smashing your lips together. You gasp into the kiss, pleasantly surprised by his greedy movements; palms moving impatiently across your skin.

“I want everything off,” you nod, matching his fervent fingers—fighting to unbutton your blouse—and instead of doing what any normal, sane person would do in a situation like this, asking you to unbutton it, he simply rips the fabric apart, literally tearing it off your person like a flimsy piece of wood. Your jaw drops as the buttons clatter to the floor.

"Felix,” you start, but his feverish mouth stops you. “It was in the way,” he snarls, unclasping the back of your bra. “You better buy me another one." You breathe, pulling away, but his hand laces in your hair, bringing you back. “You have my card, darling, buy 10." There's nothing more sexy than using somebody else's money and knowing it won't hurt their bank account a bit.

“Oh, baby, you really know how to talk dirty to me." Your snarky words quickly fizz out into a breathy moan when he forces your hips down, rubbing your clit against his hardened bulge. His kisses are frenzied, an almost desperate passion bubbling beneath the surface of all those harsh words and dead buttons lying idly on the floor.

“Are you 100% sure you want to test this theory, love, 'cause once I start,” his teeth scrape across the fragile flesh of your lip. “I don't think I could stop,” he growls, dragging his palms up your naked waist to knead your tits. A shaky sigh tumbles from your throat, feeling the friction of his calloused hands on your nipples.

“Then don't,” you gasp, caught in this perceptual state of euphoria. Your sentences are exchanged through steaming kisses, not seeing the reason to pull away or breathe, for that matter—why would you need oxygen when you're sitting on Lee Fucking Felix's lap?

His mouth turns hesitant as his thighs tense beneath you like he wants to lift you up, but his morals are stopping him. He sighs, pulling away from your lips, which you whine at, missing his heat.

“I ethically can't carry out all the things I'm thinking about doing to you without your full and complete consent.” Your heart swells with warmth at his caring gesture to get your permission.

“Yes, Felix, you have my consent to do-” You lean in to gasp the words on his lips, “Anything to me, now please,” you beg pathetically, "Make me eat my words.” That was all he needed to hoist you up and chuck you on the bed like a paper doll, completely weightless, fluttering into the sheets.

You squeal, his gaze setting fire to your soul, scorching lines as he lingers over the soft ridges of your chest, drifting down into your clothed cunt. You can almost feel him ripping off your thong. He leers at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling apart every single solitary button with provoking patience. He was purely evil for taking so long to do such a simple task, especially when your shirt lays deceased somewhere in shreds on the bedroom floor.

"You know Felix. How would my shirt think seeing its distant cousin being so carefully treated?” You meant it as a joke, but apparently, Felix wasn't really in the mood for jokes. The way he wildly yanks your ankles towards him crawling over you with a half-unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, only giving you a peak into his chiseled frame.

"That fucking mouth." He cages you onto the bed, engulfing you with his body. “That fucking mouth is going to get you into a lot of trouble, baby." His voice is a low rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest. It sends pings of pleasure rushing up your spine.

"All the things I should do to you." He drags his lips down your jawline, peppering light kisses across your neck. “For that comment,” he nips that sensitive spot just beneath the bone, pulling a pathetic whimper out of you. “I'm going to make you suffer.” his actions are a complete contraindication to his aggravated tone; soft, gentle pecks that feel like wildfire raging through your muscles. His lips are light on the sweet spots of your skin, “I'm going to tease you until it feels like you can't take it anymore,” he ghosts his mouth over your flesh, hot breath blazing bliss through your bones.

"I"

Kiss

"Could"

Kiss

"Do"

Kiss

"This"

Kiss

"All"

Kiss

"Night-"

You quiver as his finger caresses the collar of your shirt, dragging it ever-

Slightly

Down

Tension thrums through the room as your clit throbs for his touch. You just want to shove his face into your cunt and let his wandering tongue toy with the delicate bud and not the collarbone he's teasing with his teeth.

“I could tease you for hours, dragging my lips across your skin,” he's acting out everything he says like some sick, twisted play, “How long do you think you would last?” Not very fuckin' long, you know that for sure, the way his wandering hands seem to graze every stretch of skin at an excruciatingly steady pace and yet skirting right across the spots where you yearn for him the most. “I touch you in every place-” He drags his finger up the length of your waist, drifting between the valley of your breasts, just to stroke soft circles around your nipple, avoiding the sensitive skin in-between. He leans into your ear, fanning hot, sultry breaths across your cheek. Your body erupts in goosebumps as his voice drops in tone. “You don't want me." You squeeze your eyes shut, breath hitching in your throat; you're genuinely convinced you're going to die, combusting into a million bursting burning flames. There was a configuration on your skin, and the only way to put it out was Felix's face between your thighs; as if he could read your mind, he drifts downward, crawling back on the bed.

He drops to his knees in front of you, still seeming so powerful in his submissive stance, and when he lifts your ankle to his lips, you realize he's teasing you even on the floor with glassy half-lidded eyes blown wide with lust. His mouth was carrassesing the ball of your anckle; tongue, tracing the line of your calf. It was such a passionate form of pain, the way his teeth dug into your flesh only for his tongue to soothe the ache.

Your head tilted backward, spinning in the way he worshipped you, his tongue telling you words his brain couldn't quite convey. It was oddly intimate, especially as his lips brushed the swell of your thighs, whispering secret promises on your skin. It felt like time had cracked—trickling into an absent form of nothingness. You tremble beneath the possessive pads of his hands, holding your bucking hips down.

“Please” you whine, frustrated tears forming pools in your lash line. He's so brutal yet so beautiful, all at the same time; It reminded you of some sort of twisted poetry, a sensual paradox, living under the laws of juxtaposition—the vulgar words melted into the page, twisting and turning into your deepest dirtiest fantasies; no matter how sinful the words seemed to be, they always sprouted into something stunning like a blackened rose or a burning butterfly. You can't help but admire the way their wings flutter off, glowing like a dying star, flaring its final goodbye—soft hues of a bold, blazing blue before slowly being snuffed out.

(cookies interuptions: i dont know how i felt about that 😖)

Your stomach soared as your lashes stuttered shut, eyes rolling in the back of your head as he probs the muscle of your hip with his tongue, not before promptly dragging his teeth across the bone.

"Felix," You whine, squeezing the sheets beneath your palms,

“This was what you wanted, yeah?” His voice feels like fire on your skin.

“No."

“No?” he mocks, pouting in some sick form of sympathy.

“No!” You whip your head around violently, slamming your fists onto the bed. Your frustration must have sparked a loose wire in your head, making you a little bit wild and a lot a bit stupid. He grabs your face, roughly squeezing the flesh of your cheeks. His eyes narrow in a stern gaze.

“Don't test me." He snaps, digging his fingers harder, forcing your lips into a pitiful pout. “You started this love,” he says, dropping his hand to trace a finger over the curve of your lip. “Don't get upset when it doesn't go the way you planned.”

He draws patterns on your skin, blazing a bitter path from your lips down the curve of your jaw, dripping into the valley of your breasts. You pant, breath stuttering in your throat.

"What did you think was going to happen, love, with that snarky little mouth of yours?” He creeps lower. “You want me to touch you?” he whispers, sadistically inching two fingers closer to your clenching core. His voice was like molten cream trickling down his trachea.

"Prove to me you can listen.” His hand dips into your panties “Prove to me you can be a good girl.” You sigh, body buzzing with anticipation. It felt like the planets were finally aligning in a swelling earth-shattering symphony, and as he sank into the bed, creeping his face closer to your throbbing core, you clench your eyelids closed, muscles rigid with suspense. He tisks, tilting your head forward.

"Look at me, love” His lips dust over your clothed clit “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You moan, both at his words and how he licks a hot, wet stripe up your concealed entrance; reluctantly, you tilt your head up, positioning yourself over the stacked pillows so you won't droop.

“That's my girl." His eyes were heavy with lust, like drops of honey swimming in pools of ink; the way his pupils took control of his usually sunny aura, dominance seemed to transform him. He was like a burning butterfly confined in a chrysalis too long, and even with his wings fluttering off, he knew he was going to make the most of the time while they were still attached to his skin.

Oh, how he was going to make you eat your words.

©CookieCreates (posted: July, 4th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

may y/ns shirt rest in peace

let us all mourn 😞

~cookiecreates 🍪

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pucked-bunnie · 7 months ago

Text

made for this⎜j.marino

pairings: john marino x reader prompts: "I'm proud to be seen with you." + "Can you zip up my dress for me?" genre: fluff ⎜friends - to - lovers ⎜ warnings: insecure reader ⎜mentions of weight gain ⎜chubby reader ⎜comments about weight ⎜reader gets bullied ⎜fake wags (didn't want to make anyone a villian so I made them up) ⎜p.s. sorry Pittsburg word count: 4.3 k note: this started off to be a short prompt request and ended up being a little longer - all events in this are fictional and the timeline is not accurate - I also went down a john marino rabbit hole and found out some interesting things - like did you know he has a twin brother?? anyway i hope you enjoy!

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“John?” You call into the empty hallway, fiddling with the zipper on the back of your dress, just slightly out of reach. “John?” You call again, hearing quick footsteps up the hallway as he wanders in the bedroom taking a quick glance over your outfit.

“I think we should go to casino night, every night.” He lets out a low whistle, as you turn your back to him with an eye roll motioning to the zip on the back of your dress. “Can you zip up my dress for me?” You ask pulling your hair out of the way as his nimble finger make quick work of the tiny metal zip.

“Do you think this is enough?” You ask quietly as John smooths the back of your dress, his hands sitting on your waist as he glances at you in the mirror. He watches as your hands fiddle with the skirt of the dress, the light blue satin stopping mid calf, the tight corset top sinching in your waist, it was the same dress you had worn four years earlier at an event when John had started in Pittsburg - the dress had been hidden in the back of your closet since. “The girls in the group chat said that it’s a more casual black tie, but the casino event in Pittsburg was always said to be casual and people dressed like it was the met gala.” John smiles as he loops his arms around your waist, continuing - patiently - to watch as you adjust your accessories and hair.

“The girls in the group chat would be correct.” John noted, watching as you frown at yourself in the mirror. “You’re overthinking it.” He warns, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before dropping his chin to your shoulder. “Besides, Jack messaged earlier and asked if sneakers are black tie.” John smiles as you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the younger players' antics.

“What if people don’t like me?” Your question is barely audible - and John frowns, your hands going back to fiddling with the dress. “I just don’t want a repeat of Pittsburg.” John’s frown deepens again remembering the first event he had convinced you to go to after being signed to the penguins.

“It won’t be like that - everyone here is super nice.” He reassures, pressing kisses against the skin of your shoulder, his soft curls ticking the side of your face.

“I just can’t help but think about what they said sometimes.”

“Well try harder - what a bunch of middle aged entitled women say means nothing” You hands reach for Johns as he moves to pull away from you, your grip keeping his arms latched around your middle. “I think you look amazing.” John says softly, his fingers weaving with yours as he squeezes your hands.

“I’ll always be proud of you and who you’ve become.” He adds for good measure and you let out a high pitched whine, dabbing at your eyes quickly as you glare at him.

“I appreciate the sentiment but right now is not the time to make me cry - it’ll ruin my makeup.” John just chuckles, pressing one more kiss into your hair before letting you go, the two of you grabbing the last of your stuff before leaving the apartment.

This would be the first time you would meet John’s teammates and their families - after a rough experience at John’s old team you were hesitant to meet his new one until he could reassure you that they were all wonderful - two years is how long it took to convince you to finally come to an event, managing to get one of the players girlfriends to add you to the WAG group chat so you felt a little more at ease knowing a few people.

It was around a twenty minute drive to the venue, the New Jersey Devils renting out a large hotel ballroom and setting it up for a casino night charity event - the event would be more formal unlike their normal sweep the deck events but was supposed to still feel genuine and homely. John had picked one of his favourite suits - the checkered navy blue suit one of your favourites too - his hair was swept away from his face though his curly were unruly and a few fell out of position to sit against his forehead.

“I’m really glad you’re coming tonight.” He said softly as he pulled the car into the valet spot - slipping out of the driver's side to hand them the keys, before rushing around to help you out of the car, guiding you to the front steps as the valet handed him the return ticket.

You both thank the worker before slowly ascending the steps into the venue - gentle music streaming into the lobby. “Luke is so excited to meet you.” John adds, his hand on the small of your back as he steps towards the ball room, smiling kindly at the host who opens the door for him.

The girls in the group chat were right.

Though the event was definitely still formal, no one was dressed above and beyond, most people seemed to prefer something a little more comfortable. You smile down at your dress choice, satisfied with the sky blue satin, John's hand rubbing soft circles on your back as he waves his hand above the crowd.

It’s hard to miss the six foot two defense man who awkwardly shoves his way through the crowd towards the two of you - his own curly hair rivaling John’s as he stops in front of the two of you, a crooked grin on his face. “I’m Luke” He says quickly, reaching out his hand for yours, the motion a reminder of the first time you met John - you smile up at him, placing your hand in his as he gives it a quick shake, saying your name quickly.

“I need your honest opinion.” Luke says quickly - you wait for his question taking in his checkered suit a small chuckle bubbling in your throat as you realise how similar it is to Johns. “Curtis said my hair’s too fluffy.” The younger man says, his finger instinctively running through the curls. “Is it really that bad?” Luke finally asks - John barks out a laugh, coughing a little as you ram your elbow into his side.

“It looks fine, Luke - I’m sure Curtis is just messing with you.” You reassure the player, your words seemingly taking a weight off him as his shoulder relaxes a little more.

“John’s told me a lot about you.” Luke says as he glances over to his teammate with a cheeky smile, “He said that you were head over heels for him from the first time you met.” Your mouth falls open as you flick a glare over to your boyfriend.

“Oh did he now?” You watch as John begins mouthing some angry words to Luke, slicing his hand at his neck as you turn away from him, “Let me tell you how we actually met.”

PAST - LATE 2017

You first meet John in college - the two of you wide eyed freshmen walking into your bio-chem class with clear anxiety.

You had taken a seat towards the front of the class, hoping it would deter people from sitting too close to you - spreading out your textbooks and laptop over the surface as fellow students continued to pass by your desk.

You didn’t even notice him approaching until he stopped beside you, waiting for your attention to turn towards him and away from your computer screen.

“Do you mind if I sit there?” He asked softly, pointing at the seat beside you, a nervous grin on your face as you nod quickly in response - clearing your books off the chair beside you.

You couldn’t quite get a grasp for who he was from a first glance - the boy was obviously built like an athlete, tall and lanky but maintaining a lean and muscular build - but the textbooks he swipes from his bag, already donned with notes and highlighter markings are telling a different story.

“My name’s John.” He said quietly as the teacher entered the room, lifting his hand between the two of you in a friendly gesture. You take hold of his hand giving it a gentle shake as you tell him your own name, watching as he mouths the word a few times with a determined nod.

Your first class passes by quickly - which to be fair could be because you spent the whole lesson watching John in the seat next to you - his eyes glued on the projector screen at the front of the class, his hand diligently taking notes.

“Hey, do you want to go grab a drink at the cafe down the street sometime? We could compare notes?” John asks as he begins to pack up his stuff, the teacher dismissing the class earlier than scheduled.

“Umm…” You stall, shoving your completely empty notebook into your bag, looking around as if an excuse would appear into thin air.

“Sorry, it was stupid of me to ask.” He says quickly, a tight smile on his mouth as he throws his bag over one shoulder, “You’ve probably got a hundred other people to meet up with.” He says with a soft chuckle, his hand raising to rub at the back of his neck.

“I don’t.” You say quickly, frowning at your mouth's betrayal. “Maybe we could meet after the next

lesson? I still have a few more induction classes this afternoon.”

John nods quickly, yanking a pen out of the side of his backpack, rolling up his blue flannel shirt offering both the pen and his bare skin towards you. You stare at him in confusion as he glances between you and his arm.

“Your phone number?” He asks quickly - a snorted chuckle escaping you as you pull your phone from your back pocket, opening the device and handing it to him.

“How about you just put yours in my phone and we save your skin from the sharpie?” You suggest, John quickly tucking the pen away, the tips of his ears a flaming red as he takes your phone from your hands.

“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” He mumbles handing the phone back to you once he’s typed his number in, his contact name ripping another chuckle from you.

John - the guy from biochem

You knew straight away that this boy was going to weasel his way into your life quicker then anyone else had before.

PAST - MID 2019

The year after you had met John passed by quickly - the two of you spending any limited free time you had together. John had quickly introduced you to the world of hockey three weeks after you met when he invited you to come to one of his games, a single student ticket in his hand as he waited for you to take it.

And after forty two hours of researching hockey obsessively you had shown up to the game in the classic crimson and white school colours watching number 12 race around the ice with his teammates.

You were quick to discover a love for Johns favourite sport - the game fast paced and easier to follow than you expected and John was quick to invite you to every home game in the near future - a ticket to the game slipped into your notebook after every biochem class the two of you had together - but still John never asked the question that sat in the back of your mind.

It was mid summer break after the 2018 - 2019 semester when a phone call had changed everything.

‘John - the guy from biochem is calling’

“Is now a good time to talk?” He had said when you answered the call, and you had quickly excused yourself from the family barbecue to move to a quieter area of the house.

“What’s up?” You say softly but you can feel your heart racing in your chest. A silence falls over the two of you as John lets out a long sigh, “John, what going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I got an offer.”

“You what?”

“I got an offer for a contract with Pittsburgh.” You can almost hear the way your heart shatters at his words - he was leaving?

“John that’s amazing.” You say softly, slowly taking a seat on your mothers couch, you thumb lifting to your mouth as you naw on the skin besides your nail, “I mean this is your dream, this is what you’ve been working for.” You add quickly, a small bubble of genuine excitement bubbling beneath your broken heart.

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

“What? You can’t not take it John, this is your shot.” You frown as you press your phone harder against your ear.

“Yeah I know, but what about—” He pauses.

“What about what, John? This is the NHL we’re talking about here, not some home town rec league” He lets out a long groan, the sound seeming far away, his phone probably pulled away from his face.

“I’m not good at this stuff.” He admits quietly, his phone pressed back to his ear, and you wait - patiently - like you always do for him to continue. “I want you to come with me.” The words are not something you expected to hear today or any day for that matter.

“What the fuck?” You didn’t mean to say the words, they just sort of slipped out.

Having a close friendship and borderline flirtation with John for almost two years you expected him to ask you sooner to be his girlfriend - to make things official - but he never had and you were to chicken to ask him the question - so you had decided for the two of you that maybe friendship was all you needed.

Clearly you might’ve been wrong.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m following.”

“I called you today because I want you to come with me to Pittsburg” he pauses for a moment before correcting himself, “I mean I wanted to ask you if you’d come to Pittsburg with me.” John explains and your hand drops back to your side, your mouth falling open as you sputter to find a response.

“I already looked into it and there is a school for nursing at the university of Pittsburgh and they except transfers and with the the offer they’re giving me I’ll be able to cover all our expenses, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job if you didn’t want to or you could wait till you settle in if you wanted some extra money to put in savings” You still can’t find anything to say, listening to John rambling, his voice getting softer and softer as he speaks, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say that if I can’t have you with me then I don’t want it.”

“John, I don’t know what to say.” Is all you can manage, not knowing which of your emotions to latch onto.

Anger that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Sad that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Angry again that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

And mainly happy that he’s achieving his dreams and he doesn’t want to leave you behind.

“We never really talked about this before.” You say honestly, your head lifting as your mum walks into the living room, her eyes questioning as tears well on your waterline. “John, this is really out of the blue.”

“I know, I know and that’s my fault - I was going to tell you how I felt before summer break but I just couldn’t shake the idea that you didn’t feel the same and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Your mum takes a seat next to you on the couch, a supportive hand on your back rubbing in circles as a few tears drop from your eyes.

“Have I upset you?” His voice is questioning, a small quiver at the end of the question and your tears fall a little harder.

“No, no.” You reassure, lifting a hand to wipe at your face, “It’s just a lot to take in right now, I just need to think for a minute.”

“Okay, that’s okay.” He begins a shaky breath escaping him as he adds, “I can wait for you - no matter how long it takes.” You mum is patting your back as you wipe furiously at your face. The phone call ends, and you turn to your mother, a soft smile on your face as she tucks your hair behind your ears.

“John got an offer in Pittsburg.” You say a bitter smile on your face, your eyes shining with tears. You mother just waits for you to continue, “He wants me to go with him.” You explain, taking in a long breath and letting out a short shaking one, “And I think I want to go.” Your mothers smile brightens as she pulls you in for a hug, reassuring you that everything would be fine, that it can all be figured out in time.

PAST - EARLY 2020

“John, I don't know about this.” You say as you fiddle with the straps of the light blue dress - John stood behind you tugging on the zipper, cursing under his breath as the zipper catches again. “Maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

You want to cry.

The move to Pittsburgh had been more stressful than you were anticipating - Nursing School was kicking your ass with late hours on placement and early morning classes and you hadn’t been eating very well, the freshman 15 hitting you about three years too late.

“I want you to come - and you’ll finally get to meet everyone.” John had said excitedly finally getting the zipper on the dress up with a triumphant grin. “You look stunning.” He whispers as he turns you to face him, pushing your fringe away from your face.

“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You joke, poking him in the ribs as you glance over at the clock. The ride to the venue was longer than either of you anticipated - John glancing over at you every now and then as he drives, one hand tangled with yours as he presses soft kisses to your knuckles.

“If you hate it we can leave.” He finally mumbles as the car pulls up to the hotel - the bottom floor casino rented out entirely for this event. The two of you slide out of the car and make your way past the valet and into the event.

You weren’t sure how this was supposed to work for a charity event - everyone was dressed above and beyond, your simple satin dress making you feel naked as you looked over all the sparkling gowns and black and white tuxedos. “I thought they said this was a cocktail event.” You hiss as the two of you enter smiling at the people who greet you.

“I thought it was.” John says obviously as confused as you were.

“Oh, Johnny, we never thought you’d make it.” A higher pitched voice says from the crowd, the two of you glancing around until you spot the long legged blonde making their way towards you.

“That’s Hannah, one of the wives.” He clarifies, and you nod, putting a bright smile on your face as she stops in front of the two of you. She leans forwards placing two soft kisses on John’s cheeks before turning towards you.

“I see you brought a friend.”

“Um, this is my girlfriend, she moved here with me after I signed.” John says quickly, his hand placed on your back as you offer your hand in greeting. Hannah glances at you, her eyes raking over you before she just nods with a tight smile.

“Well it’s not quite the look we’re going for but it’ll do.” She said dismissively, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you lean closer to John.

“Did she just call me an ‘it’?” John's brows furrow as he takes in the older woman, his nose wrinkling as she flags down a waiter. “John, don’t.” You say as you notice his mouth open to say something.

“I’m sorry, but what you just said was extremely rude.” The words are out of John’s mouth before you can slap your hand over his lips to keep them closed, “And my girlfriend isn’t an ‘it’ she’s a human being and deserves respect.” Hannah snaps her gaze away from the waiter back towards the two of your, a glare centred on you.

“I mean no offence, but the wives and girlfriends pride themselves on keeping a level of class when dressing for events - we hold ourselves to a certain level of maintenance.” She pauses for a moment, “The dress is doing you no favours, my dear. No matter, It’s an easy fix, I’ll send you the number of a great weight loss dietician that I know..” She waves off John’s shocked expression taking a sip from the champagne flute handed to her.

“What do you mean by that?” John’s in too deep now, taking a step in front of you, his body covering you as he stares down his teammate's wife.

“You know what I don’t want to know - she’s beautiful the way she is and neither of us want you to ‘fix’ anything.” You watch as the woman turns a light shade of pink, clearly not prepared for John’s fight.

“Johnny, I’m just saying that us partners should be taking care of ourselves - we want our men to be proud to stand next to us.” The comment is the straw that breaks the camel's back, your hands slipping away from the back of John’s suit, your arms crossing over your chest, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

John’s speechless at Hannah’s words, his eyes flaming with anger as his teammate steps up besides his wife, “Keep your asshole of a wife away from my girlfriend.” John spits, the man looking at the defence man in shock before turning to his wife with a pointed look.

You don’t wait any longer to see what is said as you turn and exit the hotel, John quick on your heels as he follows you out.

“Where are you going?” He asks, his long legs carrying him much faster than you can move in your thin heels.

“Anywhere but here.” You respond, letting out a sigh as John grabs hold of your arm tugging you to a stop. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” You add, biting down on your lip as it begins to quiver.

“Don’t listen to that crazy old bat.” John soothes, his hand sliding down your arm to grab hold of your hand, his other cupping it as he brings it to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses on your skin.

“But maybe she’s right, John. I mean it’s clear I’ve gained weight, and I’m either at school or work and we barely even get to spend time together anymore - maybe I’m just not made to be a hockey wife.” Your words are strained as you fight back your insecurities, “You deserve so much more.”

“No.” John shakes his head at your words, his hand cupping yours tightly. “I don’t want anyone else.” He sighs as you open your mouth to speak, shaking his head again.

“You moved all the way here for me and you changed the entire course of your education for me.” John begins, “You work ten hours a day for free to achieve your dream plus you study on top of all that, and you still manage to support me in everything I’m doing.” You let out a shaky sob, one of John’s hands releasing your to wipe at your tears.

“If anything - you deserve so much more.” John continues, his breathing heavy as his own tears start to gather, “Baby, I am so proud to be seen with you - and I told you, if I can’t have you with me, then I don’t want it.” Your tears are falling freely now, John following close behind as he pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your head in his chest, his hands soothing against your back.

“I’m ready to go now.” You grumble against John’s now wet dress shirt, a soft chuckle escaping him as he pulls his valet ticket from his pocket.

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“Pittsburg wasn’t the greatest - but it helped John grow as a player and we’re both so excited to be here now.” You say to Luke, his eyes soft as he reaches out, the lanky man wrapping you in a hug. You shoot a glance over at John who tries to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Luke says, “I just know everyone here is gonna love you.” He quietly adds finally releasing you as he nods at John, “Man if someone talked to my girlfriend like that I’d lose it.”

“Tell me about it.” John agrees, taking a sip of the drink he had wandered off the get when you first started telling Luke your story.

“Have you met any of the WAGs yet?” Luke asks, turning back to you, your head shaking quickly in response.

“We’ve texted but I haven’t met anyone in person.”

“Perfect.” Luke says as he takes hold of your hand, setting it gently against his elbow before surveying the crowd. “Ooh, there’s Reanee.” Luke drags you away from your boyfriend quickly, giving you a run down on each WAG before he introduces you to them.

In total it takes Luke almost an hour and a half to track down every wife and player - introducing you personally, John following the two of you around smiling until his cheeks hurt at each warm welcome you receive. Managing to convince Luke to release you for twenty minutes for a drink and bathroom break, John pulls you towards the bar leaning down to whisper softly in your ear.

“Seems like you are made to be a hockey wife.”

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #john marino #john marino fanfic #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #prompt #prompt request

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thefirstforgottenpages · 8 months ago

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Tag Me in!

Authors note: ikikik this isn’t my main blog and blah blah but RHEA RIPLEY???? HELLO???? never have I ever been more down tf bad for a woman in my life she’s so FINE! that being said, here’s a fic to fuel my delusions <3

Warnings: smut, praise, mommy/mami kink, strap(reader receiving), oral,frenemies to lovers, manhandling, wrestler!Reader, charlotte flair and nia jax (sorry if y’all like them), smut with a slight plot?!?!? No wayyyy!!! anddd I think that’s it

Hope you enjoyyyy

You guys were the underdogs. The whole WWE universe knew it. Even though you and Rhea were crowd favorites, the combined strength of a tag team consisting of the Charlotte flair and Nia freakin Jax? Even you were a bit unsettled about the odds. You let out a shaky breath admittedly nervous, struggling to lace your sports bra’s corset-like ties, you groan, angered, but it quick turns into a gasp when a pair of large hands trail down your back.

Whipping around, you’re relieved albeit a bit pissed, to see Rhea smirking down at you. “Don’t you have anywhere better to be?” You roll your eyes but nonetheless a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Rhea chuckles, a sound that annoyingly makes your smile grow wider. “Not when you look like that.” She purrs. You grimace waving her off even though a blush dusts your cheeks at her flirtatious words.

“Ripley, I will pin you myself in that ring.” You growl back— you’re only half serious. You look her up and down before shaking your head you return to your vanity. “Nahh you hate Flair and Jax too much to do that.” Rhea rasps, her muscular arms wrapping around your waist to shake you playfully. She places her head in the crook of your neck before pulling away. You can’t help but notice the longing twinge in your stomach as she lets go.

“Damn straight I do,” you chide cheekily, “And if you’d be a doll and let me get ready— maybe we’d win!” You give her arm a teasing shove. “Not with that puny strength we won’t.” Rhea tilts her head up grinning at your indignation. You tsk, preceding to lean closer to the vanity glass to apply your signature makeup. You’re concentrated until you look up making eye contact with Rhea through the mirror. You both look away. Rhea’s gaze focuses on the top of her studded combat boots while yours falls upon your makeup bag.

This is how your relationship was with her. You’d flirt, fight, then shyly not talk to each other. It would drive you wild. The glances. The stares. The insults. The glares. You loved to hate-love her. Irrelevant to how much you protested to even harboring a smidgen of a crush on her, your friends would give you absolute hell for it.

In fact, the last conversation you had with one of them— Liv Morgan, came to mind in your fazed out state. “Rhea’s only ever like that if she likes someone, she’s just really bad at… well… being nice.” You give a small glance to the woman once more. She was infuriating… yet you couldn’t deny she was quite literally the most gorgeous, determined, and strong person you’d ever met. You shake your hand another small secretive smirk gracing your lips as you continue to busy yourself with your makeup. So here you sat, the woman of your thoughts standing tall and brooding behind you.

You didn’t know how you felt about Rhea Ripley anymore.

“You… need help with the ties?” Rhea’s low voice breaks the silence— and your swirling musings. You nod words failing you and soon feel her hands once more trail gently over the expanse of your skin. You suck in a breath as the corset sinches you in. Your breath stays held as Rhea’s hand stays at the arch of your back. Looking over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the raven haired woman. As Rhea parts her obsidian lips a deafening knock is heard on the other side of the dressing room door. “Ripley!! you’re on in 5!” Rhea and your stage name is shouted through the door at you, the noise stuns you back to the present moment once more.

Rhea’s demeanor stiffens and her hands finally drop from your waist. You swear you see a flicker of unease settle on her strong features before it’s wiped away by her signature cocky glare. Your expression nearly mirrors hers as you nudge her shoulder a Cheshire Cat grin taking over your features. “Save it for when we win love.” The term of endearment is cooed at you while a remix of your and Rhea’s theme plays signaling your entrance. And as she wrapped her arm around your waist to lead you into the ring you find yourself leaning into her muscular form unafraid of the task to come.

Later, back in your shared hotel, you were sulking. Although you had won— much to Rhea’s teasing delight, (So much delight in fact that she had picked you up kissing you on the cheek as you clung to her beaming towards the cameras). You were deathly sore from the fight. You had taken quite a few blows from the formidable force that was Nia Jax. You murmur softly arching your back at the sharp pain. A gruff deep chuckle sounds behind you. “That bad huh?” you sigh nodding, eyes widening when you take in Rhea’s post-game appearance; Her hair fluffed out and still damp from her shower, low waisted sweatpants precariously hanging on her hips. “You look rough.” You say lying right through your teeth. With a warm realization, you found yourself wanting…her.

“Not as rough as you.” Rhea retorts, except there’s not any malice behind it. Her blue eyes soften as the soft smile she has come to love graces your features. “You don’t mean that.” You say it as a statement because you know she doesn’t. “I don’t.” Comes her uncharacteristically warm reply. Your cheeks heat at the sincerity.

“You did good,” You muse, you don’t miss the way Rhea’s breath hitches as your hand comes to soothe a blooming bruise on her cheekbone. “In the ring I mean.” You giggle clarifying, as Rhea closes her eyes at the sensation of your smaller hand on her. “We actually make a rather good team when we’re not fighting.” Rhea mumbles, practically leaning on you with a tiredness that matched your own.

It was intolerable being this close to her, you thought. But as your gaze fluttered over her features once more, you realize that it isn’t. It isn’t intolerable being this close to Rhea, quite the opposite actually.

It was entirely too tolerable being this close to her.

The calm silence that hangs in the room speaks volumes. But your steady voice breaks it. “I think I’ve liked you for a while now.” You confess lowly, shrinking in, self conscious when Rhea stiffens.

You relax, however, as her lips meet yours. You whine into the kiss when Rhea’s body presses against yours. There was a possessiveness to her actions that already had you shivering in anticipation. You pull away out of breath. Rhea kissed like she fought. In charge, and demanding.

You loved it.

“I think I like you too.” Rhea’s voice has a gravelly timbre to it and it sends you reeling. You don’t register her jest until her thumb swipes across your bottom lip. Her hands find their way to your lower back and you don’t hesitate to jump into Rhea’s arms as she pulls you toward the messy hotel bed.

She practically throws you onto it. You shriek laughing, as Rhea hauls herself atop you, pressing her nose to yours.

Another giggle sprawls out of you when her shaggy hair falls to your neck. “Rhea…” The way you say her name has Rhea shuddering. Your voice was already deliciously pitched and breathy. She couldn’t wait to ruin you she thought as her smirk deepened at your keens.

“I’m not stopping if you’re going to say my name like that again.” Her mouth is near your ear, you shudder when you hear the unspoken meaning behind them. You wanted her. And you wanted her to know that. Arching your back, you lock your legs around her, hands coming up to softly grip both sides of her face. “Then don’t stop.”

The next kiss that Rhea places on your skin, is much lower than before. She looks up at you questioningly as she slowly lifts the hem of your oversized shirt. You nod quickly needing nothing more than to feel your skin on hers.

Your eyes roll when her second set of kisses run over your chest focusing on the soft underside of your perky boobs. “Mmm—baby-“ the pet name falls off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Rhea seems to like it however as she huffs out a husky groan of your name.

“What do you need darling?” the sharpness of her accent shocks you, and needily, your hands weave themselves into Rhea’s raven hair. She laughs softly as you give it an experimental tug. “Go ahead sweetheart, mommy likes it rough.” Her gruff words come as a surprise to you. And at the use of her nickname, you find yourself clenching around nothing.

You choke out her name one more time as her nimble fingers ghost beneath the waistband of your shorts. “So wet for me…” Rhea’s voice trails off in badly suppressed arousal as she pulls her hand back from your now dripping pussy. Your face heats when she holds your gaze licking your arousal off her slender fingers. She moans at the taste of you, arms coming to hold your now shaking legs open.

Rhea’s eyes darken as her tongue slips into your fluttering hole. You can’t help the whining slurred moans that fall past your lips as she continues to ravage you in ways you didn’t think possible.

“M-mommy-fuck- please!” Your warbled mewls have Rhea shaking her head into your pussy and with a lustful discovery, you come to see her hips start to grind into the bed as she continues to pleasure you.

“You’re--mm-such a good girl for me.” There’s a choppiness to her voice that wasn’t there before and you whimper when you learn that her other hand had snaked down to play with herself.

Rhea growls as your legs attempt to close at the overwhelming sensation. “I can’t make you cum if you do that sweetheart.” Your lip trembles as she forces open your legs with ease. The casual display of strength has your clit throbbing with a renewed need. ��Rhea—mommy- I wanna cum.” Your voice is quiet, nearly inaudible, but Rhea’s keen ears hear you. Her middle finger comes to trace around your clit and that’s all it takes for your eyes to cross and your back to arch as you come harder than you ever have. You’re vaguely aware of the praises that Rhea is cooing to you as you come down from your high, a stupefied smile wobbling on your face. You smile coyly when she comes up to lay next to you. Giving her lips an appreciative kiss before trailing your hands over her torso.

“I want this off.” You say slowly, referring to her black tank top. Rhea grins at you before lifting it over her head and throwing it aimlessly to the room. You whine softly when you find she’s braless, eyes intrigued by her pierced nipples. On a whim, you straddle her, head dipping low to greedily suck on her tits. Rhea’s head tips back at this and the strangled cry that you rip from her throat has you wet all over again.

“W-wait.” Rhea’s stuttered croak has you tilting your head in confusion, but as she reaches for the bedside drawer she pulls out a black and purple strap. You raise your eyebrows at this rolling off her as she once again climbs on top of you, removing her pants in the process.

“I was kinda hoping to get lucky tonight.” She mumbles before thrusting into you. It feels like the air is punched out of your lungs and all you can do is cling to Rhea’s biceps as she quickens the pace of her hips.

“And seeing as I have,” she purrs her hand coming up to grip your neck. “I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon my love.”

#Rhea ripley smut #Rhea Ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley wwe #rhea ripley x reader smut #WWE smut

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emmyrosee · 1 year ago

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ABSJSNDSKDKSNDNDDJDJDBDIS I HAVE AN IDEA I WANNA SHARE WITH YOU SO BAD CAUSE I JUST KNOW YOU’D GO INSANE OVER IT WITH ME 👀

I was literally out shopping today and I was extremely lightheaded cause I needed water and this idea did NOT help with that as I was passing the men’s clothing section 🤨

but omg purposefully buying Osamu shirts every so often that are just slightly too small for him. namely compression shirts and t-shirts. I just really like his arms okay 😐? And he fully knows you’re doing it on purpose so you can admire him and he DOES NOT MIND ONE BIT. I fully believe his arms would be defined in a bulky SWEATER do u know how hard that is to do? he obviously doesn’t.

I love him ☹️

anon <3

DAWG THE WAY HE MAKES ME FROTH AT THE CHOMPERS AND BITES THE BARS IN MY CAGE-

just him coming home once upon a time to just merely pout about how the shirt he got is somehow too small for him, and you simply shrug and tell him to model it anyways because hey, he's too pretty to pout okay?

so he stalks into the bedroom, leaving you in the living room to wait for your man to show you where he wants to modify the fabric.

and then. OH AND THEN.

he comes around the hallway, cheeks a little warm from the effort of pulling the shirt over those massive shoulders and beefy arms and you know threads had to have been popped wildly just to get it over his head. AND DONT LOOK AT ME BUT I JUst find him super sinched at the waist, but a little soft near his tummy, which is even more shown from the tightness of the shirt.

"see?" he whines, pinching the shirt in his fingers. "it's too tight... i could never wear this out!"

meanwhile, you're not sure if you've ever been more attracted to him.

he just looks so big, so beefy and thick, you cant begin to try and pull your eyes off of him. he's so defined it hurts, and god you want to unhinge your jaw and bite that mammoth arm thats practically hulking from under the shirt.

"yeah shame you can only wear it here hey wow thats so funny you can only wear it here isnt that good though you always say how you need more lounge clothes-"

he quirks a brow, "are... you okay, babe? you’re talking really fast.”

You take a deep breath in and slowly let it out, flashing him the biggest set of flirt eyes you can muster, “you look really, really good, osamu.”

His brows raise. You nod.

“Like… really good?”

“Good enough where if you tried to return the shirt, I’d burn the receipt.”

“Okay, well don’t burn it,” he snickers, pulling you in for a hug. “We can just pretend like the shirt fits me perfectly and wear it.”

“You’re not wearing that outside.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because people will throw themselves at you? Duh?”

He offers you a laugh, clearly not taking into full account about how serious you are, but thats okay.

hopefully there wont come a day you have to show it.

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cowboysandpilots · 1 year ago

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Buck's birthmark is quickly becoming one of Eddie's favourite things. He sees Maddie kiss it once, and the subsequent way that Buck lights up after, well, that really sinches it for Eddie.

It soon becomes second nature for him to do exactly what Maddie had done: kiss the birthmark by his eye more than his cheeks or forehead, or even lips. It comes especially in the morning when everything is still soft and sleepy, and they wake up tangled together, skin on skin.

The first time he does it, Buck flinches gently, and Eddie wonders if he's done the wrong thing, if that was strictly a 'Buck and Maddie' thing, and he intruded on it. He lets his eyes flick over to meet Buck's, and what he sees there is anything but a man who is about to tell him off. His blue eyes are glassy, pricked with tears, and he looks so stunned, so absolutely adoring, with his lips parted in surprise and a whispered and slightly breathless, "I love you."

The first one of many.

——

Please consider donating to my food fund through my coffee link HERE. :) Also, I'm sorry, but if you just like and don't reblog, I'm going to have to block you.

#buddie #buddie ficlet #buddie fic #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #911 on fox #911 abc #eddie diaz #buddie fanfic #eddie diaz x evan buckley #911 fanfic #911fic #my writing

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ccycloneblogging · 8 months ago

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How has player/angel been doing sinch they become a smiling critter?

And how has the other react and treat player?

Okay, so I really want to draw this when I get the time to - but hear me out.

I think Angel would handle it poorly - depending on how it happens. I've gotten some fun ideas through some asks that I intend to make some quick drawings for (Thanks again!!!)

But if Angel was suddenly changed, they would mourn their previous life. I mean, yeah. In this AU, Angel's life isn't great, but they wouldn't love the idea of essentially dying and being reborn as a critter. They had a home, though it is empty.

They have memories, though a good portion of them have been tainted with regret.

The only way Angel would adjust quickly is if they simply didn't remember their human life. What fun that would be~ Just playing with the idea of DogDay, forced to play this cruel game of convincing Angel that they've always been a part of the smiling critters.

Ah - but I think I'll work on that angle a bit more later

As for how the others react?

DogDay - he loves them. They saved him as a human, so he would continue his vow of keeping them safe. He'd accept them with open arms, regardless of what they were. He'd keep close and comfort Angel when he could, but most importantly? He'd try to make them smile.

CatNap - He would have mixed feelings. He owes his savior, and so he will allow such a wild change outside of his comfort zone. He'll accept them as a fully fledged Critter - but that doesn't mean he won't occasionally bicker with DogDay about it. Eventually, he would reach a point where it feels as if Angel has always been there with them. When that day comes, I think CatNap would be the most protective of the critters.

Bubba - He'd be the most cautious. After all, this is uncharted territory. He was well aware the company intended to make the toys (and toons) human, but not the reverse. He is also aware of how the humans intended to scrap CatNap and replace him, which puts Bubba even further on edge. However... It's hard to be doubtful of anyone who has the official DogDay seal of approval. It takes a while, but he would warm up to them

Kickin' - Perhaps he'd be the first one to accept Angel - no questions asked. Okay. Some questions asked, but this rooster can roll with the punches. I think his biggest concern would be Angel's temper, but after that? He'd befriend them quickly.

Hoppy - No doubt about it, this girl would probably adore their new honey badger friend. As far as she sees it, she gets a new sparring partner, and gets to hear some of Angel's adventures. This girl would adore Angel and quickly accepts them into their group.

Bobby - She'd be a little hesitant at first, but once again - it's hard to be frightened by someone that DogDay is vouching for. She'd probably spend the most time with Angel - aside from DogDay. She'd want to know all about their new friend, though... She accidentally would cause Angel to remember some of their more unpleasant memories. However, a few apologies and some snacks would at least ease that pain.

Picky - Neither enthusiast nor apprehensive, Picky is simply neutral at first. She has her doubts, especially after all the horrors they've seen. However... She finds herself admiring their new friend's tenacity. I can picture her inviting Angel over, just to talk and/or bake.

Craftycorn: Perhaps the last one to accept Angel. It's nothing personal, of course. Crafty has always been shy and adding a new friend - and a more aggressive one at that. I can see her keeping her distance for quite some time, only warming up to Angel after quite some time has passed.

#thanks for stopping by the inbox!#head canons and ideas #New Life - Same Bastard AU

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goat-evi · 6 months ago

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Here is our beloved Mithrun yet again…sorry guys can’t help myself 🤷

This was my first time trying to paint like this and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I saved some progress shots as well just to track how I was going. I also put this as my phone background 🩵

Mocking up where the colours would go while doing basic shading really helped me keep an eye on the values and make the colours work well together. The folds on his uniform were a nightmare though 😭 like stop being fashionable with those sinched sides they’re confusing to draw.

#mithrun #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #mithrun fanart #manga fanart #digital painting #artist on tumblr #illustration

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heliphantie · 8 months ago

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"Leap of Faith", ep. 20(85) of season 4 (March 29, 2014).

“Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic is Granny Smith tested and Applejack approved! Granny Smith drinks it, why shouldn’t you?”

“Leap of Faith” may be my favorite Applejack episode, favorite S4 episode and one of the top favorite episodes in entire FiM! Applejack-focused episodes in particular are interesting in that, rather than having her learned to be true to her Element, they’re often about testing her faithfulness to it, making her putting her sense of justice in question and having to decide when she ought to follow her moral compass without risk to bring harm with it instead of benefits.

Flim & Flam, in that regard, make pretty good antagonists for her. Two families have quite a few similar priorities: like Apples, Bros are pragmatic, seeking profit from their actions, and work perfectly in sinch for common goal, but their ethics are diametrically different, and as it happens, Applejack sometimes even prone to fall into temptation to use rather similar tactics (take decision to rationalize technology in lieu of traditional work, or use invitation to gala for /pretty sure, illegal in these circumstances/ selling apple products here to rich attendees – wouldn’t she just ask Celestia for financial aid to the national hero’s family instead? – and don’t we forget her alliance with Filthy Rich without Granny’s consent) before it backfires on her as well. So, she has valid reasons for having disdain for methods of Bros, because she’s been here as well and reaped the bitter fruits of blindly following such policies.

Brothers, in particular, make formidable kind of antagonists on the show: for representing most realistic, mundane, everyday sort of evil, which can’t be redeemed or obliterated unlike any other foe our heroes had to stand against. The evil of commerce and material greed! Moreso, they even can be amicable and work together with heroes without having to change their ways, if that means any mutual benefits. (And basically cemented as allies of Mane 6 in the end of the series.) For, as it turns, money is at once the major drive and major scourge of society, be it mankind or ponies.

Anyway, the moral of this particular story is, one crazy old lady is enough to put the crushing end to your successful scam operation. Fatal flaw of these sleek guys appears to be not thinking their schemes far enough to prevent coming close to any possible source of damage. Other than that, they’re pretty fine, aren’t they? They’re, essentially, an embodiment of the main reason for the franchise itself – product promotion, no wonder they’re more frenemies than foes in the end of day.

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obey-moi · 10 months ago

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I heard from a few people that they think Barb’s bunny outfit doesn’t suit his style very well, (which I agreed), so I took it upon myself to make a couple of tweeks.

LEFT: Original Solmare production, unedited. In my opinion...

⦾ Barbatos looks a bit flat

⦾ The lack of colour harmony doesn’t sit well with me. The corset is a bit too blue, and it clashes a little. Might sound silly, but his main theme colours are Cyans, Teals, and Greens, along with accent warms and purples.

⦾ Legs are nice and slender, but mostly unappealing. Makes him look top-heavy and unbalanced.

RIGHT: My edit.

⦾ Made the torso of his shirt a bit more baggy and sinched his waist slightly to give more illusion of curve.

⦾ Recoloured his underbust to match his colouring a bit better.

⦾ Added a little more flare with ruffles peeking out the sides of the hem of his slacks (inspired by other outfits, mainly his “White” suit). Ruffles and “flowing” pieces are a part of his profile, so I added what this outfit was lacking.

⦾ Also gave those ruffles a similar “crystal” pattern to those of his rabbit ears.

⦾ Recolouring his shoes for a little POP.

Questions? Concerns? Additions? I give complete permission to edit on top of my edit, I’m still learning fashion for funsies lol.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #obey me barbatos #obey me! barbatos #edit

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whorediaries-09 · 2 months ago

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you got me;

pairing- mafia!remus lupin x artist!reader warning(s)- 18+ content, darkish themes. a/n- even though i have exams tomorrow, enjoy this shit.

little train.

to be a muse was flattering. to be ink on papers, sound on instruments or strokes on canvases was flattering. to have your features depicted as beauty was flattering. to be noticed in the eyes of artists was flattering.

at least to him. even though his fingers held a flimsy piece of paper with his face roughly sketched on, he could feel his heartbeat fluttering rapid within the restriction of his ribcage.

'mr. lupin?' the voice was soft and shy. just like how it always had been. there was no tone of surprise, annoyance or accusation.

'i didn't know you were an artist,' he replied, putting the thin sheet down on the desk, putting his hand inside the pocket of his trouser.

'does it make you uncomfortable?' you asked, walking towards him, keeping a respectable distance. he remained silent.

'no, not really. but i must ask you, why didn't you put it in your resume? that you were an artist?'

'i didn't think it was....well relevant for the job you were offering. i didn't think a member of the...mafia...needs to know that their maid is an artist.'

he chuckled. breathing slow, he asked,

'why don't you sell your art? i mean, even this-' he stared at his sketch, 'seems to be rough, yet looks so...precise,'

'because art has never been my job. it's my hobby. i'm afraid that i'll start looking at it as if it's a chore, which i detest.'

the silence was charging.

'do you really?' he asked, turning towards you. you feel his eyes lure on your body, warm and static. the words seem to stop in your throat, as you stare down at the floors you'd polished a few hours ago.

'yes,' you breathed, voice thick, clearly a lie, 'i detest it,'

'look at me when you speak,' he said. the air in the room was suddenly too thick to breath, 'won't you?' you slowly lifted your gaze to his, watching an unfamiliar darkness unravel in his usually cold, dead brown eyes. you took in a deep breathe, hoping he wouldn't notice. you let the silence linger, the sweet cacophony of tension wrestling against your eardrums.

'i'll ask you something,' he whispered, eyes trailing over your lips, 'do you think you'll answer honestly?'

'maybe,' you replied. he smiled,

'right. i want you to make a portrait. i'd rather hang that up instead of the photograph. you think you can do that?'

'i can. but that will... come at a cost of your time. if you know what i mean. i'll need to study the angles and colors and...think.'

'i'm fine with that,' he replied. leaning closer, he flushed. 'tell me when?'

'whenever you're ready,'

obsession was a cruel fate. combing through the twisted lies and words, he never expected to end up like this. it had begun with him being your muse, with him being paint on your canvases. it had ended up with you being his obsession, with you being his infatuation. with you being his drug.

it was as if you'd casted a charm on him since the day you'd hung his portrait on the wall. he was nothing less but entranced by it. not because you had the colors on the canvas strokes perfectly. not because you'd captured something that he'd never seen before.

he couldn't see himself on the canvas. it was all you he saw. the way you flicked your brush across the canvas. the way your eyes lingered over his form, analyzing every inch and crevice on his body. the way you'd tied the apron around your waist, just tight enough to sinch it perfectly. the way you'd popped open a shirt button or two, the heat working its way into your frustration. you'd left a lot for imagination.

it drove him feral.

enough for him to be sitting on his knees, the coldness from the floor seeping through his black slacks, as he stared at you through his eyelashes.

even though his mind was foggy and captivated with your presence, his brain was drooling with thoughts. you were like a drug.

amongst the cruelties of the world, you were peace. his tongue dragged along the folds of your sopping cunt, your fingers deep within his sandy brown locks, pushing him closer to your core. he lifted your leg putting it on his shoulder, almost catching you off-balance. his nose touched your clit as he explored deeper within you.

he didn't like anyone better than you. your voice soft and heavy, moaning his name, was a deep melody he'd be drunk on.

'fuck, mr. lupin,' you screamed, bending backwards as your thighs shook, and the tightened coil of relentless teasing released out of your body, spreading across his tongue. you picked him up by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, tasting yourself on his tongue. you pushed him upon your bed.

you'd gotten him exactly where you wanted him to be. he'd crawl in a desolate place with the snakes, just for you. he wasn't just your muse. he was your liquor. and how beautiful he looked falling on his knees like a domino. he was your object to own. to destroy.

'tell me what you want,' you asked, kissing your way up to his thighs, to his happy trail, to his abdomen and his heaving chest. he breathed slow and heavy.

'i want you to fuck me,' he said. tears pooled at his eyes, 'please,' he said, as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock.

'you want me to fuck you?' you asked, slowly stroking him up and down. you teased the tip of his cock on your slit.

'yeah,' he breathed, 'please,'

'give me that tie,' you demanded. he handed you the tie he'd been wearing before you'd torn it off his body. you knotted it loosely around his neck. you pushed his cock into your cunt, and he let out a gasp.

'fuck,' you smirked, slowly moving and teasing. your nails raked over the skin of his chest.

'do you see anyone other than me?' you asked, pulling the tie so that it partly stopped circulation. you saw his brain fog, eyes go fizzy, as he tried to breath harder. you moved faster with each passing second, and you could see him go feral. the shortly trimmed edges of hair teased across your sensitive clit, rubbing it rough.

'the world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it, mr. lupin.' you forced your fingers between his lips, opening his mouth. you spat on his tongue, pulling him closer to your naked body as his cock explored deeper, the nerve hitting your g-spot.

'and nobody knows it better than you. isn't that so?'

'yes, fuck,' he groaned, nails digging into the bedsheet. you felt the familiar coil burn in your core. you held his face, watching the senses disappear from his eyes.

'you're my sweet relief, mr. lupin,' you said, as you felt his thrusts go sloppy, indicating that he was close to his orgasm too. you bit his ear.

'come on, cum for me,'

'w-where?' he breathed, as your nails dug into his face. you spat on his tongue, before closing his mouth with your lips.

'in me,'

he moaned, gargled by your rough lips on his, tongue in mouth. he released himself into you, deep and sweet into your core. he felt your lips turn into a smile as you kissed him deeper.

you'd gotten him good. he was high. high enough to not want to be sober again. all he saw was tomorrows. all he saw how the stars were made for him and you.

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