#squish animation attempt
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squisheebugdoodles · 1 year ago
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here it is the attack that took me like a week to make (with two days off in there somewhere haha)
a revenge on Wai-Fi !!
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benevolenterrancy · 22 days ago
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*squeaky sound effects*
bro, please don't treat your pet fish like a stress ball (っ °Д °;)っ
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phoenixiancrystallist · 11 months ago
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Month 12, day 19
LOL OOPS I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO BED HALF AN HOUR AGO
Animating is fun and I got In The Zone™ :P
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cherryozyi · 2 years ago
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Basil Drawing.
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tacticalprincess · 8 months ago
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a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s…
himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.
he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way…
“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes…” “…you don’t look overdressed to me.”
at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.
of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.
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he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.
“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”
“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”
he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(
instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.
he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.
you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so… warm… squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”
your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.
you might’ve created a monster…
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago
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*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)
CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove
This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️
The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.
For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.
It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.
Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.
"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"
The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.
"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.
"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.
It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.
The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.
It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.
Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.
[Hello?]
It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.
[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.
"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."
[Are you a ghost?]
"I don't know what that is.."
[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.
"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."
[... You're an alien?]
"I do not know."
[How can you speak my language?]
"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."
[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]
The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."
(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.
[We can make this work!]
"What?"
[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]
A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."
[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]
"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"
[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]
"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."
That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.
Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.
"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.
[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]
"What is married?"
[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]
"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"
[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]
Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.
[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]
"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.
"Do you wish to do that one day?"
(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]
The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.
"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"
[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]
"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"
[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]
But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...
Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.
[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]
"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.
In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.
So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.
"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.
Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.
"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.
Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"
[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]
Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?
[Is everything okay, Baby?]
Baby.
A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?
"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."
[Huh?]
Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.
It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.
[Baby, answer me-]
"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.
[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]
"Wrong."
[Sorry?!]
"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."
[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]
"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.
[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]
Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"
(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]
With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..
"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."
Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.
If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.
"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.
[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]
"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."
[What way?!]
"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"
Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.
[Please don't-]
"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.
"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.
[Please stop...]
"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."
(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.
(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.
[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]
The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"
Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.
[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.
Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]
Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"
Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.
"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"
Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.
"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."
The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.
[Ah-what-no-NO!]
(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.
[What-what happened?]
Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.
Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.
[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]
Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.
"Wrong answer."
It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.
Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]
Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.
"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"
(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.
"All that's missing is a ring~"
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ddejavvu · 1 month ago
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James who has no idea that your dog usually doesn’t like new people! But the first time he comes to your place your dog is all over him and wants to snuggle. He’s so wholesome I don’t think any pet could not love him. Bonus points for big fluffy dog getting fur all over him
Your arms ache with a phantom strain as you watch your dog attempt to flatten James beneath him- in a good way, this time. You're used to holding him back while he does his best to intimidate the day's houseguest, but he'd taken to James with a giddily wagging tail and a complete lack of his usual wariness.
"Hi, oh," James laughs, barely dodging a large paw to his face as your dog squirms around on his back, begging for belly rubs, "You're a big baby, aren't you? And a furry one, too."
There's wisps of shed fur lining James's entire outfit, and he's only been in your house for two minutes.
"What a sweetheart," James croons when your dog presses its heavy muzzle into James's stomach, "My goodness, you might be the worst guard dog in the world. 'You gonna protect my darling if someone breaks in here?"
"Usually he tries." You scoff, staring bewilderedly at your docile dog, "There's typically about five minutes of vicious barking and at least twenty minutes of holding him back until I can be sure he won't snap at your ankles."
James's hands never still from where they're roving through your dog's fur, and the little traitor looks up at you with a giddy grin while James dotes on him.
"Really?" James's face scrunches, one of his hands laying several heavy pats against your dog's side, "I can't picture that. I think she's lying to me," James looks down conspiratorially at your dog, nose-to-nose where your dog lays upside-down in his lap.
"She's trying to tell me you're a big mean monster," James squishes your dog's face, scratching dutifully beneath his chin, "But I think you're a harmless little baby. Isn't that right, hm? No, you'd never hurt a soul."
Your dog grumbles along, surely agreeing with him that you're a fearmongering tyrant who's trying to besmirch his good name. You draw out your phone to take a picture of them both, and when you send it off to Sirius and Remus, it's with the caption, 'Well boys, we've finally found someone who can tame the beast.'
'What the fuck?' Is Sirius's near-immediate reply, 'It took me an hour to get him to let me pet him last time, and I had to be actively feeding him or he'd freak.'
'James has a way with dogs, Sirius,' You can almost hear Remus's drawl through the text, 'That's how he gets you to do his laundry for him.'
"Your friends are very jealous," You hum, looking back to where James is now trying to gather all of your very large dog's gangly limbs into his lap, crooning all the while at the animal, "Sirius wants you to know he nearly lost a leg."
"Well maybe he deserves to, then, hm? I trust your judgement," James presses a kiss to the side of your dog's muzzle, "Maybe next time you could do us all a favor and go for the bollocks."
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lovebugism · 8 months ago
Note
Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺
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✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]
summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)
pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader
tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies
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You never did crack open that bottle.
The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.
There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.
Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.
Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 
He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.
“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”
“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”
You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”
Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”
He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.
“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”
You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.
“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”
“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.
You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”
“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’
You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.
Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”
“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 
“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”
“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.
The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”
You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”
Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”
“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.
Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”
“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”
“You couldn’t,” he insists.
You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”
Eddie grins. “Good.”
“Good,” you echo.
“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 
He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.
Except you.
“Whaddaya got?”
“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 
Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.
“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.
“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.
Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”
“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”
“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”
—————
You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 
The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…
Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.
You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.
I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…
“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”
Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”
“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.
He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”
Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.
“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”
Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”
Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.
“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”
Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 
Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 
“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”
The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.
“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.
Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”
She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.
Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.
“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.
“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”
You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 
Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.
You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.
“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.
“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.
You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”
You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.
“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.
You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”
“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”
Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.
Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”
“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.
He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”
“Two of them?”
The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.
“Two.”
“One.”
“Two!”
A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.
Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”
Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 
You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.
Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”
The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 
“I think I’m gonna—”
“Well, I should—”
The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.
“You first,” you tell him.
“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 
His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.
“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”
Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 
“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”
“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”
You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”
“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”
“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”
He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.
Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.
You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”
“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.
You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”
And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 
How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?
You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.
“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.
“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.
“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”
“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.
His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.
You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 
Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.
Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.
With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.
“Good night, Eddie.”
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ghcstpyre · 3 months ago
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john wick x f!reader
cw: cis female reader, slight dom/sub dynamics, soft dom!jw, sub!reader, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, praise kink. MINORS BEGONE!
word count: 1.4k
a/n: i am in a Mood™️ and was inspired to try and write a quick piece. also yes I am procrastinating everything because of animal crossing so this is also to try and get back into the swing of writing lol. enjoy!
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Your cheek squished against the flat, cool surface of the rich mahogany desk. Sometime after settling down in John's private library with your usual dark fantasy romance and John following not long after to have a nosey at what you'd been reading, you'd ended up bent over the nearest desk with your skirt yanked up and bunched around your waist and your panties pulled to the side. Thick fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, keeping your willing body right where he needed it. You were doing your best to be quiet, as per his orders, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each delicious inch he pushed inside you.
“John…” You whined, wiggling your hips under his iron hold in an attempt to coax his cock further inside you.
This only had John doubling his grip on you. The fingers that held your hips dug in further, hard enough to bruise and leave little crimson crescent moons in your skin. The pain didn't deter you though. It only had that unsatisfied ache pulsing within your centre flaring up tenfold.
“Shush, baby,” John's voice was low and gravelly and sent a thrill rushing down your spine. Really, it was almost pathetic how much of an effect just his voice had on you. “I told you to be quiet. You sure you can do that for me?”
He leaned over, pressing his muscled slab of a body against your back to nip at your earlobe. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle a whimper of need, just barely succeeding, and nodded.
“Good girl.”
John’s stubble grazed you and his long, dark hair tickled your skin as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek and the weight of him lifted off of you. Whether it was out of mercy or pity - or both - John pushed the full length of his cock inside you in one swift motion. It took everything you had to not cry out in pleasure and pain as his tip kissed your cervix, filling you completely.
He watched as you struggled to keep any noises from escaping, his gaze heavy enough that you could practically feel it pinning you down to the desk just as effectively as his meaty hands. Seeing you in such a state of utter need while also being desperate to obey had his length throbbing inside you.
John set an unbearably slow pace, slow enough that it had you practically crawling out of your own skin. You so desperately wanted - no, needed him to to just fuck you, but instead it seemed he was determined to make sure you felt every vein and every inch, right up to the ridge where his swollen pink head met his shaft.
“Mmm, that's it, thaaaat's it.”
All you could do was lay there and take it without protest, however he wanted to give it to you. Your hands white knuckled the edge of the desk in front of you, serving as your anchor as you fought tooth and nail to keep any sounds of pleasure trapped behind your teeth. You knew that disobedience would result in punishment and you didn't really feel like being punished and degraded right now.
Right now, you wanted to be showered with praise. You wanted to be adored.
“You're being such a good girl for me. You want more?” He asked, relinquishing the vice grip he had on your hips in favour of smoothing those large, rough palms over the meat of your ass.
You didn't get a chance to nod. John was already parting your cheeks and chuckling deeply at the sight of his shaft, half buried in your soaking cunt and glistening with your slick arousal while the rest of it slowly dripped down your thighs.
“Look how wet you are for me. Of course you want more; you've already soaked my cock.”
With one hand he gripped one of your cheeks, while the other snaked up your spine to tangle in your hair. He pulled on the strands, forcing you to lift your head up and prop your upper body up on your elbows and forearms as his hips finally, finally picked up the pace.
If you weren't struggling to stay quiet before, you sure as hell were now. John knew how you liked to be rocked, what the perfect angle was to hit that sweet spot inside you that made you see stars. 
Tasting the tang of iron on your tongue you stopped biting your lip. You'd been so focused on keeping any noise at bay you hadn't even registered how hard your teeth were clamping down on the soft flesh while John pumped his huge cock in and out of you.
“You're doing so well for me baby, so well. Just a bit more and I'll - ngh - let you cum. I want to enjoy this sweet pussy a little longer.”
God, if his dick didn't push you over the edge then his words might just do it. Knowing that such a sweet, gentle man had the capacity to groan out words so filthy made that sick little part of you sing with glee.
The sounds of your rapid breaths mixed with his grunts of pleasure and skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls and echoed through the rows of bookcases filling John's library. Your legs began to shake as that familiar heat began coiling low in your abdomen. Sensing your building need, John let go of your hair and ass cheek to lean that glorious weight over you once again, propped up on one thick forearm while his other hand moved between your trembling legs to rub your neglected clit.
You keened into his heavenly touch and you couldn't stop a strangled little cry from escaping. You were quick to cut it off however, dropping your head to press your treacherous mouth into the inside of your elbow to muffle the noise. 
“That's my girl. You've been so good, do you want to cum? You want to cum for me? You want to be loud?” John's voice was practically dripping with honey as he whispered in your ear.
All you could do was lift your head again, look at him over your shoulder and nod pathetically while you rocked your hips back against him, meeting his thrusts.
“Cum.” He ordered, slamming into you with his fingers working relentlessly on your clit beneath you. “Cum on my cock baby. Scream for me.”
That was all the encouragement you needed.
Your cries and sobs of pleasure drowned out anything else as you came, your pussy gushing over his length and thighs and the wooden floor beneath your feet while you rode out the waves of your orgasm. John wasn't too far behind, pressing his chest flush against your back to suck a dark bruise into the crook of your neck while he thrusted into you one, two, three more times, and then filled you with his seed with a loud, long groan.
Both of you stayed like that for a short while, catching your breath and begging to sober up from the lust-addled haze you were in just moments ago. Eventually, John lifted his weight from you and pulled out, letting his cum leak from your entrance. He took a few moments to run his hands up and down your back, soothing you as you came down from the high.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice returning to its usual deep, gentle lilt.
Somehow you managed to stand up and turn around to face him on your shaky legs. John was quick to wrap his arms around you to keep you steady. You were all too grateful, immediately leaning your weight against him and letting out a content sigh.
“Yeah. More than okay, I feel amazing.” You smiled up at him, cheeks rosy with happiness, and then nuzzled your face into his broad chest.
John chuckled, the baritone sound rumbling from within. “Good.” With a swift motion he scooped you up into his arms to carry you bridal style towards the door to the library. “Because I've not quite had my fill of you just yet.”
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divider by @/strangergraphics
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jaylleoo14 · 1 year ago
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Sometimes I like to think that the guys in NRC that have intimidating auras like Riddle, Leona, Malleus, and Floyd for example all get shy and fidgety to initiate more physical touch towards their s/o in the beginning of their relationship ukno? Like dont get me wrong, anyone can think or say otherwise that that may not be the case. BUT LIKE, imagining them being all shy at first and giddy in the stomach as they fidget their fingers and look over at you or maybe looking away with their cheeks a little red🤭 (The envision is envisioning):
Riddle: If you don't mind, can I perhaps scoot a bit closer to you?
You: of course you can Riddle haha
Riddle scooting closer to you with a shy smile on his face, his cheeks going red: May I also perhaps uhm, if you don't mind, held your hands too?
You with an animated cartoon piercing through their heart: godyouresocutethisiswhyiloveyousomuch *AHEM* of course Riddle. I'd love to
Cue a happy Riddle holding hands with you as you both lean into each other comfortably. He lets out a gingerly smile as he rubs his thumb against your hand and squishes next to you ever the more ^^
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Leona watching your back as you do your homework, his tail swishing around in a lazy yet obvious eager manner as he lays on his side
You: I can feel you staring you know
Leona: But you don't feel my arms around you, do you Herbivore?
You: Did you want to put your arms around me?
Leona: I would like to, yes. Can I do that?
You let out a little snort, a chuckle escaping you as a small grin spreads on your face.
Leona: What's with that reaction? >:(
You: Nothing, I just find this side of you to be very nice
Leona: All my sides are always nice
You: Sure sure whatever you say
Leona comes over from behind and peers over your shoulder as you lean into his touch and his arms wrap around you snuggly. He nuzzles his cheek against the crown of your head as you continue to do your homework and you could swear he was purring...
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Malleus: Child of Man, there is something I want to try and do with you
You: Hmm? What is it?
Malleus looking deep into your eyes all seriously: I want to attempt doing that with you
You turn to look at where he was pointing and see another couple in the far distance. The lady was holding her girlfriend up in the air and twirling her in her arms as they looked at each other, the look on their faces seeming so in love with one another with their warm smiles.
Malleus: I reassure you that I'll keep in mind of my strength if that helps ease you. I ask for permission to hold you
You let out a small giggle: Oh Malleus, i'm not scared. I'd love to be in your arms
After giving him the green light he does just that, doing as the couple did earlier as he lifts you into his arms and twirls you into the air. You go in for a hug and he gladly reciprocates with a big smile. Though he may be starting to squeeze a little too hard-
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Floyd just resting his cheek on his arm as he leans on one of the counters in Mostro Lounge, watching you study for an upcoming test.
You: Why are you just looking at me like that?
Floyd: Cus' yer so cute
You getting all red in the face: What? Floyd dont you have a shift right now? I came over to study because you said you wanted to see me
Floyd coming up to your booth and sitting in front of you: Yea but now that ya here, I wanna squish you so badly :(
You: Is that gonna make you focus back onto your shift?
Floyd: Maybe~ So? Can I squish ya?
You: Fine. Just for a short moment because I have to focus on this material and you need to go back to work
Floyd: Yay!
Floyd hops up and comes over to your side at the speed of a bullet train, wrapping his arms and legs around you with a tight cuddle session. Time seems to have passed fairly fast and you didn't even notice that until Jade came over to tell you that you had just spent close to an hour cuddling Floyd. Close of an hour worth of study time missed and close to an hour of Floyd's shift gone.
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dilftaroooo · 1 year ago
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₊✩‧₊◜ ── SUKUNA MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME
★ tags: aged up characters + sukuna is still in yuji’s body + fem!reader + suggestive content + university au + implied smut + sukuna calls u a "broad" + and he sends u d3ath thr3ats + then he wants u :D + hints of true form!sukuna + reader is a sorcerer + and pretty daring.
Just a random thought but I feel like the first time Sukuna meets you would be sooo interesting:
You are an outlaw–a label the Higher-ups deemed you as (to which you agree because it makes you sound cooler). Getting you to follow through with missions is damn near impossible when you're seldom there at the university but you're everywhere else; parties, bars, get-togethers with childhood friends, at that restaurant everyone's been talking about. Everywhere but there.
There are times when you do make your appearance. Although rarely, you can't just completely drop your presence. As much as you want to Gojo forbids you from doing so. Not because he likes being strict with you but because he hates getting an earful from the Higher-ups. You have curses to fight, people to save, and your level as a First-Grade Sorceress is what circles you back to that hell hole. They need you.
But it's depressing, you will say. I mean, how could it not be when all that you're doing is fighting deformed curses with haunting moans and shrilling screams as you exorcise them one by one while getting soaked in blood? That doesn't even sound good written on paper.
You deal with it, though. What can you do? Not much. All you can do is complete (some of) your missions and spend time with friends as an outlet.
That is until you heard about the new student or vessel–Itadori Yuji.
'Fascination' is an understatement when you hear about the new freshmen walking straight through the doors of Jujutsu University. Oh, you're familiar with the story: A simpleton, an ancient demon's finger, a snack? Call it the 'fool of the century'.
Of course, you went back to see the boy, are you kidding? He's the talk of the town. This is the most engaged you've ever been since your first year here.
Upon first glance, you already had him in your grasp; his cheeks were warm with your palms as you squished the pliable fat and your eyes were big when laying on his doe-like ones.
"No fucking way," You whisper incredulously. "You're actually the dude who ate Sukuna's finger. And alive too! Are you insane or are you insane?" A laugh of disbelief leaves you and all the poor vessel can do is blush in obvious embarrassment. He guesses he's the former and the latter.
You're a bold one. Everyone can agree with that. Even the fresh blood who just arrived at the school can say that. To confirm that the rumors were true you gaze deeply into Yuji's eyes as if to see Sukuna sitting lavishly on his throne through his host's pupils, attempting to find the curse yourself.
"So where is the guy? Is he hiding or something? I don't see 'em-" Sukuna is...intrigued, to say the least. Does this broad have no shame? Don't you know what he is–know what he's done? You speak of him as if he's an animal from a childhood fable. Though your brain has gone to mush you still had a confidence that these weak humans lack (save from Gojo). You're daring, he'd give you that.
Before Yuji can remove your hands from his sore cheeks, it appears Sukuna already beat him to it by materializing a mouth at the side of his face and biting your thumb with tough fangs. You yelp with a 'shit!' in the midst of it. Now your thumb is bruised with a subtle teeth mark, faintly traced with blood (and nearly ruining your freshly coated polish).
But your worrisome state would be put aside when hearing a discomforting squelch come Yuji's way as a crimson eye emerges from the cut on his cheek. It adjusts to the lighting of the environment, glaring at everybody in the room before stopping on you–your dumbfounded face.
"How dare you speak of me so lowly like I'm one of you pathetic humans? Would you like for me to be the first one to behead you once I'm in control of this body?" His voice boomed at you and you know you would've pissed yourself if the infamous curse didn't look like a cyclops on some twenty-year-old's face.
Not wanting to start too much trouble, you repelled your snarky comment. Putting your left leg behind you, you slightly bend your right knee and clasp your hands over the fabric of your imaginary gown to give a gentle bow–since you are but a lowly peasant.
"Apologies, your Highness. May my body and mind rot for speaking so poorly of you. I hope you find it within your heart to forgive me of my ignorance and free me from my unbearable idiocracy!"
Ok, maybe that was a bit snarky.
The faces of the people in the room were written with 'shock' on them, and so was Sukuna's in his own domain.
From there, things escalate. Sukuna's infatuation for your character starts to increase whenever you're around, and whenever you're not. Your bold stupidity, your witty remarks, your unfazed nature–it was all starting to grow on him like mold on bathroom tiles. On top of that, his corruption starts to show whenever he dwells on how much of an attractive woman you are.
You have a bangable body with plump breasts and a bouncy ass–a trait he's not accustomed to from this society but isn't against. Your curves are in the right places and you take good care of yourself. Maintaining the warm fragrance of vanilla to seep out your pores whenever you embrace Yuji. He can't help but taste you when you do and he'll never forget the cute squeal you released from glossy lips upon feeling his wet tongue glide vertically on your neck.
"(Name)?! What's wrong?"
"Ugh, Sukuna, you pervert!" A mischievous sneer forms on miniature lips as the aforementioned demon glares knowingly at you.
"Have this brat lend me control over this body and I'll show you more than just a lick to the neck, doll." You upgraded from 'broad' to 'doll' in just a matter of weeks. It was a rapid transition (not that you're complaining, at least you're on his good side). You feel like it was last week when he threatened your life by saying he'd rip your limbs from your body and gorge on your flesh before using your bones as toothpicks (maybe because it was last week).
You plague his mind. In a way one would say to their lover in those sappy romance stories people read. Some people would call what Sukuna feels as such.
But Sukuna doesn't love you. That isn't his forte. He desires you–craves you, as well as any unhealthy forms of want:
Wants to have your tongue follow the path of the inky marks on his skin before kissing him deeply, wants to feel the burning heat flow from you as he latches a hand on swollen breasts, wants to hear those moans riddled with lust once he impales you with one of his throbbing members-
His mind swirls with infinite scenarios but for now, he will wait. Wait until the brat gives him power. And once he does, he'll know the first person he'll go looking for.
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luvvrz · 3 months ago
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Blurred Lines [Logan / Reader, 18+]
AKA: You and your roommate have something unspoken going on, but the author is half-asleep writing and hoping to god my words make any sense at all because they did NAWT proofread
Additional tags: female reader, friends to lovers, oral stimulation, worship
OTHER WORKS
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The way Logan ate was, well... as animalistic as expected.
In his defense, he was a goddamn animal - attempting to housetrain a man like that was like trying to teach a goldfish how to drive.
As he began to chow down, you moved across the kitchen. Your apartment wasn't very big, but it was more than enough for the two of you - though, it was pretty humurous seeing his bulking form squished into one of your tiny kitchen chairs.
He smells of outdoors, of blood and sweat. He could use a bath, no doubt, but there was something enticing about that earthy scent, masculine in nature - so overwhelmingly Logan.
Christ, the two of you were walking a bit of a blurred line, here.
You'd been roommates for God knows how long, now. Sure, there was a bit of flirting here and there, but you always maintained your distance. You get too close to the Wolverine, you get burnt.
As you flutter about like some kind of butterfly, hazel eyes track after you, watching how your pajamas cling to your curves, how your body shifts and stretches. It's almost a tease, the way you bend and move around. His body responds in kind, and he has to shift on the chair to adjust himself discreetly.
Logan takes another bite of his dinner to clear that thought, noticing how the taste of the meat and veggies doesn't do much to quench that heat. He'd give a kidney for some whiskey to take the edge off, but he's all out - though, unbeknownst to him, you know him like the back of your hand.
Even so, you fail notice the way he adjusts himself discreetly in his jeans, or the way his eyes drag over your form. You don't have superhuman senses like he, but you do know him. You know his drinking habits, and you know from the look on his face that his stash is all but dry. You don't even turn to face him as you gather two glasses from the cabinet, before reaching into the pantry.
Whiskey - a freshly bought bottle, from the looks of it.
You take your time, placing a few ice cubes in each cup, before filling them upwards. To the brim, just like he did. You lacked supernatural instincts, but you were observant enough.
"You look thirsty."
The irony of that sentence is lost on you.
You don't wait for a response before you're slipping into the seat across from him, pushing the amber filled glass across the wood. It's enough to render him speechless, a feat not often accomplished - yet, he finds himself almost choking on his dinner. What were you, a goddamn mind reader? Those eyes were wide, unbelieving as they flickered from the glass, to your almost smug face.
"Where'd ya' get this, Bub?"
His voice is barely a grunt as he leans forwards in his seat, calloused hand slipping around the cup. His gaze is back on the glass, tracing the condensation racing down the side for only a moment before he's taking a long swig. It burns going down, and he's grateful for the feeling - a temporary respite from the tension.
"And you? You don't drink whiskey."
This makes you huff a laugh, much to his amusement. There's something alluring about the way you swirl your own glass almost absentmindedly, the alcohol within like liquid gold as your eyes meet his over the rim. There's something intense in the air, electric and dangerous, enough to make him look away almost instantly. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of ice clinking together in some kind of bizarre symphony, before you're speaking again.
"Ah, you didn't know me in college."
You didn't even nurse your drink. Logan's entranced as you bring it to those pink lips, draining the glass in one goddamn fell swoop. Your throat bobs as you swallow, and only once it's completely empty do you slam it back down on the table, a thumb coming up to dab the remnants off the corner of your mouth. It's a nice burn, a low buzz that makes your belly feel warm.
And fuck, it makes Logan feel warm all over, too.
You didn't even bat a goddamn eyelash. Your skin's reddening from the liquor, your lips are spread in that ever-present smirk, and you look like a goddamn angel sent from hell. His eyes don't leave your mouth, watching as that little tongue peaks out to lick at your lips.
Lord have Mercy.
Your lips are moving again, though, and he's broken from his trance.
"Friends drink together, yeah?"
The word makes bile threaten to rise in his throat. Friend, his ass. Friends don't look each other in the eye as they tongue fuck a glass of whiskey - which you'd thrown back like it was a glass of water. Logan's been with a lot of women, seen a lot of shit, yet nothing made his dick stand at attention quicker than watching you drink like a Sailor. You, petite and sweet you, so innocent and pretty and Christ, he wanted to defile. Tear it to shreds, give you something else to wrap those pretty lips around -
"Yeah... friends." He grumbles, bringing his own glass back to his lips.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
One drink turns to two, and two turns into four, and soon enough, the pair of you are six drinks in.
Between the two of you, you've probably drank enough to knock out a whole bar top full of grown men - yet there you sit, pretty as can be, holding the nearly empty bottle to your chest like it was nothing. Sure, your eyes are glossy, and your face is the color of a cherry, but you're holding up immaculately. Your speech isn't slurred, and you don't even look remotely close to hurling, like most in your position would be.
You take yet another sip, crossing one leg over the other - though, the way you're drinking is anything but ladylike.
"Do you even get drunk? I mean, I'd assume the whole regeneration shit would wipe it all right out of there."
Logan huffs softly, the closest thing to a laugh you'd ever get out of him.
"I heal. Ain't got shit to do with being drunk."
Another swig, though the drink is the furthest thing from his mind. How could it not be, he thinks, as his eyes rake across your crossed legs. Sitting so fuckin' pretty, like a living doll.
How can he focus on anything besides those creamy thighs, blemish free and just barely hidden beneath the silken fabric of those pajama shorts. He wants to touch, to grab, to *claim.* You're too good for him, he knows it. You don't deserve what he can provide - or the lack thereof. But he can't help it - sure, he doesn't need a human woman, but damn does he want this one.
And from the way you've been eyeing him like a piece of meat over the table, he's sure you want him too.
He doesn't notice that you're speaking again, nor does he notice that you've risen from your seat. Hell, he doesn't notice a damn thing besides the way that shirt clings to your perky little tits. Lord, are you not wearing a bra? He can see the shape of those pretty nipples just barely stretching the fabric. He'd have a mouth wrapped around one of those melons if you'd just -
Let him in.
He doesn't know where his self-control has gone. Out the window a long time ago, he reckons. Suddenly, a calloused hand is wrapped around your wrist. You're so close he can smell your shampoo, something flowery. He can smell everything. The scent of surprise as he grabs you up, and the scent of interest that follows right after.
He rises to his feet.
"We need ta' talk."
His voice is gruff, a mere rumble as he peers down at you. The contact has your cheeks reddening further, a spark shooting up your spine. He looks so domineering like this, staring down at you through half-lidded eyes, all long dark lashes and widened pupils. You've gone stiff. For a moment, you're floundering. Flustered, as your brain short circuits.
"I, uh..."
You sputter dumbly, wrist flexing weakly in his grip. Your eyes are everywhere but him. He wishes you would look at him - he needs you to look at him.
"I don't really want to talk."
The flush on those pretty cheeks makes his chest ache. He wants to bend you right over this fucking table, but he's just barely got some restraint left within him. He wants to allow his lips to meet that supple neck, to sink his teeth into that skin. To drag them down along your chest, to bury his dick so deep in your heat that -
He growls lowly, bowing his head to better meet your gaze.
"Tough."
He's drawing closer, pink lips just barely ghosting the shell of your ear.
"Don't avoid me, girl. I can smell your lies."
Your jaw goes lax in response, sending a sense of triumph spiking high in his chest. He's teasing you, and you know it. He can smell the excitement leaking into the air, and he loves playing with you like this. You're shuddering in his hands, breath catching in your throat, and he can't help but to swallow thickly. That look in your eyes, it's going straight to his cock.
"Oh, look at you."
And you fucking twitch. You're eating out of the palm of his hand, and it has something feral deep within him roaring with delight. The way your pupils are dilating, it's sending a fire across his skin, lighting his fucking soul ablaze. You look so needy, like he's hung the stars himself.
And then you whimper, and whatever restraint he previously retained snaps.
He groans, a gruff 'fuck' as his hands wrap around those dainty hips like you weigh nothing at all. He's lifting you upwards, setting you up on the counter, and he wastes no time slotting himself between those long legs. His hands are everywhere, one sliding up to cup a handful of those gorgeous tits, while the other moves up to grip your jaw. He's turning your head you meet his gaze, lips just a hairs-width away from your own.
"Say it. Tell me you want me, baby. Let me hear you."
The dominance dripping off his tone is enough to make you whine. His hands are massaging, squeezing, demanding your attention. It's hard to compile any coherent thoughts as those deft fingers close around a nipple, pinching just hard enough to make your back arch upwards against him.
You fucking love it. He can smell it on you as you bob your head dumbly.
"U-Uh-huh. Need you, Logan, I need you so bad."
Your fucking voice, so needy and desperate, it sends an inferno of heat crashing through his chest, and his lips meet yours passionately before you can even finish your sentence.
He's biting at your lip, searching for entrance. His hands are exploring, touching and squeezing and claiming whatever they can reach. They massage at your hips, before sliding downwards to cup your ass. Then he's yanking you forward, tucking his cock snugly within the cleft of your thigh. The feeling makes him shiver, and he has to reel himself in to keep from cumming in his pants like some virgin.
"You don't know what you fuckin' do to me. Been drivin' me crazy for fuckin' weeks, dreamin' about that slutty little mouth of yers'."
He's so hard against you that he's throbbing, and you're reacting like some post-orgasmic Madonna. Those pretty eyes are fluttering, fighting to stay open as you grip his shoulder blades like a lifeline. He's big, and for a moment, he wonders how its going to fit - then again, he really doesn't give a shit. He'll make it fit.
You're gasping into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting on whatever comes closest. Your lips are swollen, and there's drool running down your chin, but you clearly couldn't care less - not when you're sucking on his tongue so greedily it has him seeing stars, making his eyes go unfocused.
"Fuck me, baby, I can take it." You gasp, delicate fingers finding it's way to the hem of your shirt.
One hand snatches your own, pulling it away. He's growling, the sound reverberating his whole chest as he breaks the kiss. He's greedy as he moves to your neck, nosing gently at your pulse point.
You smell so goddamn good.
Then he's latching on, all teeth and tongue as his hands make quick work or your shirt, tearing the fabric like it's a piece of paper. It makes you squeal - he's sure you loved that shirt, but he doesn't give a damn. Not now.
"You're gonna take whatever I fuckin' give you, yeah?"
His head is hazy, and the way you're moaning like a wanton little bitch isn't helping him see any clearer. Your titties are bouncing, just barely held back by that flimsy bra, and his pants are so constricting that it hurts. He's got a vice grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the skin as he moves down your body, punctuation each movement with a kiss, or a nip. You whine the whole way down, making him grin into your skin.
From your chest, to your belly, to your waist line. Your hands have found purchase in his hair, knotting through the unkempt lock, and those nails are scratching at his scalp in just the right way that has him wanting to sing praises to the heavens. Those sharp teeth are catching in the waistline of your pants, and he's dragging them down with him.
You look divine like this, bare and trembling for him. His fucking mouth is watering, and you're getting off just on the way he's staring up at you from between your thighs. He looks predatory, eyes dark and narrowed as he licks a thin stripe at your inner thigh. Your hands are pushing down, so goddamn impatient. You're calling out for him like a mantra, and he hasn't even started yet.
If he was a lesser man, he would've fucked you there. But he didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to worship you. Make you cum on his tongue and sing his name until it's the only word you remember.
He intends to do exactly that.
One hand is slipping beneath the wristbands of his sweats as he leans closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your pretty pussy. It makes you tense, and he chuckles softly as he uses his free hand to push your thighs further apart. Spread and bare, he feels like a parched man in the desert. Your pussy is so goddamn pretty, clit swollen and walls of velvet fluttering around fucking nothing. God, he could cum just from watching your squirm like this.
But this wasn't about him.
Without much more resistance, he's diving in. One slow stripe up your soaking slit has you keening, back arching as taut as a bow. He's sure you're squealing, but your thighs are squeezing his head so tightly that everything's muffled. He can't help but to groan at the heady taste of you, so fucking wet it's coating your thighs. He's like a man starved as he begins to worship your pussy like it's the only thing left on this fucking earth.
The fist around himself grips him tighter, and God, he feels like a fucking rock. He can't remember ever being this hard before. His balls are tight, and he's twitching angrily at each slick pass of his hand. The taste of you, mixed with the feeling of his calloused hand makes his eyes roll back.
You were so fucking sexy, the way you babbled as he tongue-fucked you like his life depended on it. In and out, your walls squeezing his tongue as if trying to beckon it deeper. He laughs at that, at your impatience, pulling back for a moment. You whine, clearly displeased by the lost of contact - until he spits on your your clit, thumb moving up to rub quick, tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he met your eyes once more.
"Talk to me, baby, tell me what you need."
It's pointless, really. You're gone, past the point of communication, but it's adorable the way that you try. You're babbling so sweetly, and the only words he can make out is 'please' and 'thank you.' His cock jumps at that, at his sweet girl begging so prettily.
His thumb is still doing figure-8s on your clit, tongue still lapping at your pussy like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He deserves a medal for multitasking, he thinks - not that it mattered. He could cum just like this, stroking his dick or not.
You're close, and he can tell. He didn't expect you to last long, not with how sensitive you were, but it was still a surprise to feel your walls start to constrict urgently around his tongue. He smirks, eyes darting up to watch your blushing face. You can't even meet his eyes anymore, too fucked out to do anything but sit there and take it.
So goddamn gorgeous.
It doesn't take long, not at all. He can sense it, in the way your muscles grow tense. You're getting wetter in his mouth, your hips canting upwards with purpose. Your grip in his hair is growing tighter, and your breathing is erratic. Only a little more, you told him. Then it became a mission.
Your words were true. All it took was him sucking your clit into his mouth, two fingers moving downwards to slip into you and curling upwards in a 'come here' motion, and then you were spasming like a woman possessed. He doesn't think he's ever heard you scream that loudly, and he doesn't think he's ever heard a sound so beautiful in his life. He isn't ashamed by the way he follows promptly after, either, spilling hot and fast into his pants with a breathy grunt.
The line wasn't blurred, not anymore.
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ohdeerfully · 9 months ago
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Headcanons! Alastor with a plush demon reader :3 like readers sinner form is a plush! Because I love height differences and it sounds real cute
-🃏🐱
hi 🃏🐱!! i wrote this more platonically, so it could be read either way, but i might write a more romantic flavored one too :3! sorry its rather short, i hope you enjoy it anyway!
edit: after rereading the request i realized u asked for headcanons but i wrote a whole oneshot im </3 *knocks on my head and it sounds hollow*
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Alastor x Plushie!Reader
PLATONIC fluff TW: none! readers kind of a weirdo by accident
join my discord!
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It was no surprise that you became popular in hell very quickly after manifesting. You were often stopped in the streets by people wanting to squish your soft skin, and some people wanting selfies.
I mean, who wouldn’t fall in love with a living stuffed animal? You were very likely the first of the kind.
There was one demon, however, that seemed immune to the charm. No matter how many times you stood on his lap, your giant squishy paws pressed onto his chest, looking at him with your shiny button eyes… he just would not yield. And it frustrated you to no end.
So, you had made it your life—or, death—goal to get him to squish your plushy skin. Even if you had to force him to.
It started with you merely sitting next to him at every opportunity, swinging your legs against the cushion of the couch. Your legs barely reached over the edge; you were quite short. Sitting next to Alastor felt like sitting next to a skyscraper. 
You would lay down, sit up again, roll onto your back, over and over again, trying to get his attention on you. He wouldn’t ignore you, per say, as he would respond to your conversations politely, albeit a bit condescending in his typical manner; but, his hands never left the comfort of being folded neatly in his lap.
It got to the point where you were practically laying yourself on top of him, getting desperate now. But, every time, he would simply grab you under the arms and easily set you a foot or so away from him. He would give you a quick pat on the head, but you wanted more than that. Every pat on the head felt like a cruel reminder that he wanted nothing to do with you.
Your frustration has even caused you to get upset with Niffty a few times. While on one hand it was awesome to know another demon that was of similar height, on the other hand it pissed you off at how easily she seemed to grab his attention. Though, she was also just overall more insane—it’d be hard for anybody to ignore her.
You had to admit, though, that the lack of his attention only made your intrigue in him grow exponentially. In a Hell where you were stopped on every corner of the road, in every store, Alastor stood out to you. How come, of all the demons out there, even some of the cruelest in the Pride Ring, the one demon you were actually interested in… could care less about you? Sure, the only reason you were interested in him was because of this very fact, but still! Why?
You had gotten fed up. Alastor was in the midst of, again, picking you up off of himself, when he paused holding you midair at the look of fury on your face. You saw his grin widen in a sinister manner, and his eyebrows quirk quizzically. 
“What a huge expression for a face so little,” He laughed shortly. You hated the way his laughter crackled with radio static, and how it practically mocked you.
“You. Are such. A jerk!” You cried, swinging your legs in an attempt to kick his chest. You missed by a longshot, as he held you out as far as his arms could stretch. He only continued to watch you, amused.
“Just pet me!” You cried. You immediately halted after saying that, arms frozen mid-flail. You realized instantly how weird that was to say, especially to Alastor. And he knew, too, evident in the way his eyes narrowed at you and he rushed to place you down on the floor. You struggled to maintain eye contact when he stood back up, his height being the actual physical manifestation of impending doom. His hands brushed down the sides of his coat.
“I believe it makes sense for you to be a stuffed animal,” He said matter-of-factly. “Because of how utterly childish you are.”
You couldn’t help but stomp your foot at his statement; and his grin stretched at being proved right. But, like, come on! Yeah, what you said was kind of weird as fuck, but you weren’t in the wrong or anything! It’s only natural.
His gaze shifted up and ahead of himself, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. Another failed attempt.
That was, until you felt a clawed finger touch against your head and briefly scratch at your velvety skin, right behind your ear. You looked up, shocked, towards Alastor’s unreadable expression. The touch was very brief, and he stood and walked away without another word, leaving you standing there awestruck.
You shook yourself and bounced after him, trying to call his attention again but he ignored you. You opted to just follow him around for a bit, at least until he made it obvious you should leave him alone. He had his hands folded behind his back, a tune humming in his mouth as he walked down the halls. Alastor would never admit it to you, but he did find you rather cute, in a similarly chaotic way to Niffty. You weren’t quite as unhinged, but you had an entertaining amount of spunk and confidence, which he found sort of funny—so much personality squished into one tiny body. You sort of reminded him of a stuffed animal he had when he was a boy.
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luvyurself · 1 month ago
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hugs and kisses
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a/n : imma vomit on the floor I need him.
flufftober masterlist
c/w: she/her, reverse comfort a lil, he’s worried a bit, but we love him, set after the events of episode three, it’s been a moment since I saw the anime, bear with me, he adores you, its sickening, hope you break up
______
she stirred a bit as she felt a pepper of kisses on her cheek, traveling around her face and finally landing on her lips with the wrapping of a pair of arms around her.
the action wasn’t unwelcome, but it definitely shook her concise of being more awake than asleep. she then felt cold metal fingers trace along her face, squishing her cheeks together as she heard a voice softly sigh.
“your so beautiful.” he whispered, pressing another kiss on her forehead this time.
a mumble left her lips, not even bothering to open her eyes, “thank you…now go to sleep.” the sleepy tone in her voice made him laugh as she felt his head drop to the crook of her neck.
“how can I when I got such a gorgeous angel next to me?” he pressed another few kisses on her neck, his voice soft next to her ear making her shiver a bit.
“your beauty is keeping me awake.” his tone was filled with love for her, twirling a strand of hair on his finger.
she gave a playful huff, opening her eyes to look down at him.
he picked his head up to stare at her, the dazzling lovesick smile on his lips as she stared into his blue eyes behind those yellow tinted glasses.
vash was the most gorgeous man she had ever laid her eyes on. he was everything to her, and her to him.
this man was no dangerous outlaw, in fact, he had the purest heart of gold that someone could ever have. she knew him well, as much as she would say she did, and knew that he would never malicious hurt anyone for his own benefit.
she stood by his side when he was met with anger from jeneora, tightly squeezing his hand in an attempt of comfort when they told him to leave after learning of his relation to knives.
she wasted no time joining him and the two reporters to find his brother and clear his name.
the travel would be long, but she was sorta glad of meeting two new people. getting to know meryl was pleasant, the women was happy to share everything she did, even with roberto putting his two cents in on their conversation as he drove along the deserted plain.
vash was somewhat quiet, his grip on her hand a bit weak most of the drive. she didn’t want to comment about it, only offering a soft smile at him and a squeeze of her hand.
he gave back a smaller smile, leaning on her a bit as he closed his eyes for a quick rest.
now after stopping for the night to set up for sleep, she brushed some hair out of his face, caressing his cheek, “somethings on your mind, isn’t it?”
part of knowing him well was that he would be way more affectionate when something was on his mind. not that he never let up on his affection, but at times like these it was very noticeable.
vash visibly tensed up, a quiet awkward smile escaping his lips, “what do you mean? I’m perfectly fine.” the tone of his voice doesn’t convince her when his eyes tell a different story.
they were swimming with worry, fright, not for the journey ahead, but something else.
she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back as she whispered to him, “I can tell when your worried, my love.” she watched him avert his gaze a bit, puffing out his cheek.
he’s quiet again, the sound of the environment around them filling her ears.
a shaky intake of air from him, “you don’t….you don’t think of me differently, do you?” he spoke, his tone of voice uncharacteristically more worried than she ever heard it.
her brows furrowed, “why would I ever?” she asked, one of her hands moving to his hair to run her fingers through it.
vash shrugged, subconsciously leaning into her hand on his head, “my brother….you saw what he did at jeneroa,” he glanced back at her, “I just…I never said anything about him, and after what he did, wouldn’t you not be…angry with me?” he winced as he said it, his hold on her tightening.
oh. that’s why.
it wasn’t like she never knew vash had a brother. he mentioned him once to her, but never gave any more information on how he was. she never wanted to press him for more information, as it always looked like it hurt to even talk about him.
after seeing what knives had done to the past city they were in, it had scared her. maybe that was why vash never said he was his brother, because unlike him, knives was a cold blooded killer.
she could feel the guilt practically oozing off of him, the fear he probably has of her being angry at him was so evident to her.
just like what he did earlier, she caressed his cheeks and squished them together, “you silly man, I would never be mad at you.” she smiled when he widened his eyes a bit in shock.
“you are not to blame for what your brother did, you are not your brother.” she spoke, moving her hand back to cupping his cheek.
“I know who you are, and that’s vash, my handsome,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him softly gasp, “kind-“ another to his nose, “loving-“ another on his opposite cheek, “gold hearted man.” she then finished with a kiss on his lips, making him melt into the kiss.
after pulling away, he gave a soft laugh, “you’re a literal angel,” he spoke her name sweetly, his eyes fluttering shut as her fingers traced his face.
“as you are to me.” she muttered, leaning closer to press another kiss to his lips.
a sudden cough from neither of them made them flinch a bit, looking up to see roberto waving a bit of smoke from his cigarette as he cleared his throat, “didn’t mean to disturb your little love fest.” he grumbled, closing his eyes as he took a final drag of his cigarette, “just needed a quick smoke.”
meryl peaked her head up from inside the car window, groaning a bit, “I told you they were going to hear you!” she shouted, throwing her head back as roberto gave a little smile, “calm yourself, rookie, it’s not like they were making out.”
“and if they were?!” meryl shrieked, throwing her hands up making the man laugh at her actions.
meanwhile, vash and his lover stared at them for a moment, before a little fit of laughter was shared between them.
vash went back to laying his head on her chest, sighing softly as he closed his eyes. she smiled down at him, pulling off his glasses and folding them up next to her and returned the gesture.
she nuzzled her nose into his hair, the noise bickering of meryl and roberto bickering fading into nothing as she finally let sleep consume her.
but not before she pressed a kiss on top of his head, mumbling sweet nothings to him to make it the last thing he heard before he drifted off.
for vash, it brought a tired smile to his lips. all worry from earlier fading away as he let himself drift away him being in her arms.
he could rest easy tonight with her always loving him.
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pinechild · 2 months ago
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I was watching Hazbin Hotel and I saw Alastor's design and I thought I've never seen a yandere story about a deer monster... So could you do that, please?
I’ve never watched Hazbin Hotel, but I do like what you’re thinking, anon. I’m rusty when it comes to writing full blown fics so go easy on me chat 🫡
Antlered, Stalking
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◇ Gn! Reader
◇ Summary: You get lost in the woods after a heavy downpour washes away all of your markers to get back to your car, leaving you open for a yandere deer beast to ensnare you in his grasp. He thinks he’ll keep you - his newest mate.
◇ Warnings: horror themes, yandere themes, stalking (obvi), non consensual licking + touching, mentions of dead animals, entrapment, slightly suggestive, bugs (?)
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Torrential rainfall would be perfect for you, especially in this time of year, under different circumstances. But now—as your hair sticks to your face, cold and damp, your heart clamored in your ears; It was anything but.
Fear injects itself into your gut—its frigid and decaying fingers piercing right through your stomach and making its presence known to your bloodstream as it spreads its digits. The makeshift chalk markers you made on multiple trees instantly washed away once the storm rolled in, leaving stupid little you, lost.
It’s almost as if you were frozen in time, not hearing the rain harshly slapping against the leaves, or the sound of your own breath leaving your lungs—not even the sound of wet underbrush being squished somewhere off in the distance. Anxiety has your mind clouded in a thick miasma, riddling itself with possible solutions to try to get you back to where you came from and into the safety of your beat up car, survival fully switching on in your brain and making your thoughts race.
In retrospect, you knew this wasn’t a good idea from the start, but human as you are, your own arrogance was your hubris—believing that since it’s never happened to you before, it’ll most likely not happen to you now. As if the stars were smiling upon you and bestowing upon you fortune for seemingly being on good behavior as of late.
Oh how you wish you could slap the fuck out of your past self right now and got proper markers.
Cell service was pretty much moot as an option—you knew that, even the most beginner of hikers (those with half a brain, anyway) knew this fact. The forest in this area was just so thick that it would be mere impossible for any radio waves to pass through. So, the next best thing is—
Your body in an instant—and almost unconsciously— fiddle inside your pockets, methodically searching for something like a well oiled machine before you hunch over, letting the rain drum against your back and bead off of your jacket in attempt to not let a single drop soak the inside your bag. The only sounds you can soak in are the rustling of cloth, zippers closing shut, and the rain that continues to beat on your back until your fingertips finally bump into the item you’re looking for: your compass.
You cant help but a little flicker of hope spark inside you as you pull it out.
With a slight tremble of your fingers, you lift up the compass, breath bating as the needles slightly jerk from its magnetic pull. The slight anticipation gnawing at your chest.
However what you don’t expect is for the needles to instantly spin precariously at a rapid pace, as if it was a dog chasing its own tail, going round and round and round. In your eyes (in the most irrational of case), It’s almost like it’s taunting your situation, and fears gnarled fingernails scrape against your gut, tugging it down as you spend more than one second thinking about it.
What the fuck? Is this thing broken? How?? Didn’t this work before?
Hot, acidic bile stings at the back of your throat, your mind screaming at you to move amongst the sea of questions ruminating.
Biologically, the human brain tends to react in a sequence of events when danger is present in its environment: Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. And your brain, in this case, instantly makes your legs move—uprooting your feet from the muddy earth. Flight it is.
You know partly how you came to this spot in to where you were now, so in a snap decision you decide to retrace your steps to the best of your abilities—better than staying in one place with a broken fucking compass. And god forbid it gets dark, you don’t think you could follow the stars with all this cloud coverage in the first place (not like you could anyways but it that was neither here nor there)—
Along with the nonstop pour, mud squelches and plops under your shoes, the cold starting to nip at your fingertips. The only thing right now your mind can focus on is just getting out of here—your eyes scanning for any wildlife as you move through the dense forest floor, trying your best to avoid rocks or uneven earth. But, the more you try to retrace your steps….the more you feel an uneasiness prickle at the nape of your neck; hairs and goosepimples uncomfortably standing on end.
Are you being followed?
No, that’s not possible. You were the only person here from the last two hours—matter of fact, you didn’t even see any wildlife skittering about during that time either, and that strikes you as odd. Rain or not, there was bound to be a couple chipmunks scampering in the undergrowth.
A dreadful feeling swirls inside you at that thought, blooming inside you along with your throat getting uncomfortably dry—something’s wrong here.
It’s then you hear a cry in the distance, echoing even through the thickest of bramble—an eerie, grating sound, one that mimics decrepit metal doors opening on rusted hinges. It’s a familiar sound, but foreign at the same time. What is it? Why does it itch at your brain so much?
Until it hits you: It’s an elk.
That chilling sound like it belongs in a horror movie, scraping at your ears like nails on a chalkboard every time you heard it. You recognize it now.
It’s odd though, you don’t remember any elk living in this forest before, but, maybe you were just lucky to have never heard its cry during mating season. Who knows. But, right now you can’t think about that right now—you need to move. An elks bugle shouldn’t shake you up this much as it did. You have to go. Now.
You continue your trek, trudging your legs along as your lungs shake with each exhale. That unnerving feeling of being watched sticks in the back of your mind, making you pick up the pace. You try to ignore the elk’s bugling getting louder and louder with each step. Even still, the sound unsettles you. Maybe, in the best case scenario, it was just your paranoia getting to you, playing tricks on you to think you’re in more danger than you already are—at least that’s what your anxiety riddled brain likes to think.
But the more you thoughts stew on it, the weirder it gets: You know you remember there’s no elk in this forest—you remember the first time you hiked here and the guide saying something about watching out for bears and the occasional wolf—but never about elk. Not that they were dangerous to humans anyways but still—they were never mentioned among the list of what you would see on the trails, that you remember.
And not hearing multiple elk during mating season is strange in itself, how come was there only one? Not to mention you’ve never even seen any on your hikes—ever. And to see there’s no other wildlife besides the elk? The compass spinning in all directions? The sickening feeling of being watched, possibly stalked?
It’s weird. It’s weird and it’s not just your imagination.
Something is deeply, deeply wrong here.
Bone scrapes against wood, and on instinct, you run into a full sprint.
Ignoring how the mud splotches onto your clothes, your throat clamps shut as adrenaline surges your veins heart thundering in your ears obstreperously, rattling your eardrums and breaking your skin into a cold sweat.
In the most logical minds, one would know that it was just the elk rubbing its antlers on a tree as its mating habits, that it’s nothing to worry about—but you knew it wasn’t the truth. The sound of anything other than the rain and your bones creaking under your skin wasn’t natural. It didn’t belong here.
And what’s even worse is the thrashing of underbrush quickly catching up behind you. Your vision almost becomes dizzy with how much adrenaline is pumped into your bloodstream and panic settling in to the marrow of your bones. The haunting, metallic bugle of the elk dwarfs your heartbeat, looming over you. The acid of the bile pools in your mouth, stinging at your tongue and almost making you wretch. You gotta hide! Need to—
Your chest harshly lands on the waterlogged ground, effectively knocking the wind out of you as mud cakes your face and chest. Unnaturally large hands wrap around your waist and that creaky, hollowed bugle rings right beside your ear. Choking on your breath, you dare to crane your neck to look over your shoulder, body trembling as you cough and wheeze your way to breathe again. The sight alone makes eyes go wide at the first glimpse on what towers above you.
What you see, is no ordinary elk, but a monster. One with antlers strong and pointed, reaching towards the heavens and branching out to the point where the two antlers almost touch—like tangled and twisted tree roots. Its head an elk skull, underneath the empty sockets lie human eyes, peering at you. You even dare say, undressing you.
Its upper body is like that of a human, save for the talon like nails that anchor your body down to the ground. As your eyes move down, however, you see the dirt caked fleshy skin transition into fur—one traditionally like an elk followed by hind legs and cloven hooves, chipped and worn with age. Natures twisted amalgamation of animal and human; a bastard of the unnatural.
It bugles again, softly this time, crooning. Almost as if asking if you like what you see.
And you want to fucking throw up at the implication.
The urge to scream and thrash away from its grip dies before it even begins like a snuffed out flame. An invisible force freezing your vocal cords, holding them captive as the creature leans closer, hinging its maw open to reveal a sleek, black tongue—licking you. Your muscles writhe beneath your skin.
“Mine.” Its voice is a rumble of thunder, rippling throughout your fragile bones as it—he—speaks. It’s a voice worn and booming; one that hasn’t been used in ages—at least that’s what you assume. Plumes of his breath appear in a smoke like cloud against the biting chill of the rain, tongue retracting back once its had his fill of licking all the salt and sweat from your cheeks.
Lifting your frozen body with a relative ease, he tucks you to his side, cradling your body in his hand as if he was holding a parcel.
In this moment, you can’t think. Everything’s happening so fast that your mind can’t even keep up, mentally grasping at straws at the how’s, when’s and why’s of it all. It’s like your mind is on a chairoplane—holding you just by the head as it spins at a nauseatingly rapid pace while you ragdoll through the air.
When the wind and rain whips at your face as he starts to move, do you notice how he weaves through the forest at a breakneck, inhuman speed. It dawns on you there was no chance of getting out of here to begin with.
The world, or rather, the reality you thought you knew, utterly shatters. Monsters are real—and you’re being kept by one, dangling in its grasp as it figures out what to do with you next.
Tears never seem to come from your glassy eyes, but you could feel them chewing at your optic nerve—a burning, sizzling tingle, something akin to a sparkler you used to play with as a kid on muggy summer nights.
Thinking about it, you’ll never be able to play with them again—or drive your car, or even complain to your friends about work. You never even got to tell your mom you love her after your fight.
You’ll never be able to do that again, you'll never able to do anything again, not while you’re in this beasts grasp. And the realization of that, makes the cavity in your chest clatter in a silent, violent scream. If your lips could move, you’re sure your throat would be rubbed raw by now, vocal chords utterly fried.
Too lost in your own despair, you don’t notice that the creature stopped running until you hear a light chuff above you. Raising your head at the noise, you see the mouth of a cave—a warm, amber flame casting ambient light along the jagged edges of the rocks. A deceptive illusion of comfort beckoning you in.
When getting closer, you see a string of dead rabbits formed into an almost perfect circle near the foot of the entrance, just mere feet away from the kindling fire. A gift? An offering of some sort? Well, you don’t care either way, it’s not like you’re going to take it.
The monster sets you down, whispering a soft hum in some sort of satisfaction, probably because of its successful attempt at catching you. His eyes, dark and lifeless, resembling the bottomless void, follows the way the flames mold to the planes and soft curves your face, drinking in every pore and detail of you.
You try not to focus on him or the stench of the rabbit corpses assaulting your nose, all you can do now to keep your sanity is to just stare into fire.
You hear shuffling, fur chafing on stone as he gets closer, jaw chittering as his tongue slides along your neck. It's oddly warm without the rain nulling your sense of touch, but it does nothing to help from the familiar taste of bile from swelling in your throat.
“Mate. Mine.” His large hands resting onto your stomach, fingers creeping under the layers of clothing to get a mere touch of your naked flesh. Feeling him touch you like this feels like bugs are wriggling underneath your skin, wiggling and writhing in disgust. You want to pluck them out, get rid of this nastiness tainting your body and scrub at your skin until you're red and bleeding.
A gargled sense of a moan creaks out of this throat.
“Love. Breed.”
Your stomach drops to your ass, knowing your fate was already sealed with just those two words.
On its own, your body shakes as he purrs, bone snout nuzzling into your hair. The nauseating reality of you never being found again or even being able to see the outside world weighs on your tongue like stones. It makes you sick—want to scream, curl up into a ball and wither away, letting the cave centipedes eat at you down to the bone.
And it’s all because of those fucking markers.
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trashmouth-richie · 8 months ago
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this promot was sent in by my lovely @joejoequinnquinn here.
prompt words were: chair, belt, “good girl” and smut 🧐
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18+ no minors, talk of bdsm, two idiots in love, drug use, steve is mentioned in this off handedly, (i love adding him in at random) eddie, once again, talks about his dick, fluffy smut, Journey slander 😩, high activities, smut! be aware that the dialogue probably doesn’t make sense because they’re jenelle evans from teen mom 2 high
<1.3k eddie x fem reader
a trip to skull rock with a shared joint and a random piece of furniture, what could go wrong?
“Is this your idea of bdsm?” 
Eddie tightens the belt around your wrists, a joint hanging slack from his lips, his eyes squinted with concentration, “FM?—the radio station?” 
Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best idea to get higher than a kite on Easter with your boyfriend and then try to seduce one another. But alas, here you were. 
The drive to skull rock was interesting to say the very least. Eddie claimed he knew how to get there only to have you traveling fifteen miles in the wrong direction— the ‘come back soon!’ sign should have been a giveaway. 
“It’s an acro—af-ro—” your tongue felt like a piece of rubber in your mouth, you’d already mistaken it for gum once tonight, “Dan Aykroyd?” 
“That guy from Ghost?”
The giggles took you over making you lose balance and tipping over the chair you were supposed to be sitting in, hitting the dirt with a soft little thud, hands still tied behind your back. 
Eddie sat in the chair, looking down at you and shaking his head, knowing full well you both shouldn’t have smoked that last blunt. But you were so cute when you begged, he could never deny you. 
“BDSM,” you continue, managing to sit up right, “it’s an acronym… but I dunno what for.” 
“Oh, yeah—” Eddie scratched his head, eyes red and hazy, “I mean Harrington said it was pretty easy, and chicks went nuts over it, calling him ‘daddy’ and shit, begging to be choked.” 
“‘Sir’ suits you better.” 
“How about ‘Master’?” 
“Now you’re pushin’ it.”  
You’re intrigued. interests officially peaked as your scraped dirt under your nails, attempting a castle behind your back. 
“Would I get a title? Is the peasant whore royal enough for such luxuries?” 
Eddie frowns and puts the joint to your lips, “don’t call yourself that. I could punish you y’know.” 
Your eyes widen as they follow the circle of smoke into the air, Eddie’s finger dancing around the center of it as if it were a ring. 
He sighs audibly, loud like a bored child. Suddenly fixated on the chair he was sitting in. 
“Did we bring this?” 
You both burst into laughter, scaring away birds and monsters alike. Disrupting any bit of peace the forest animals had before two stoned idiots stumbled into the wilderness with a plan they had zero idea on how to execute. 
BDSM in the woods, only Eddie Munson would think that was sexy. 
He hoists you up, loosening the belt that was barely held on, holding your dirty hands in his, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his narrow slutty boy hips. 
Onyx would be jealous by your eyes alone, and Eddie’s looked downright demonic. Demon eyes in a cherubs face, that was your Eddie. 
One of your favorite parts of being with him is how his weirdness meshed with yours. Whenever you got this high you could spend hours staring at his porcelain skin, wondering how in the hell he was crafted, molded, carved from the rarest of granite and marble stones and that he was yours— all yours. 
Your hands walked across his face, counting his eyelashes to ten and starting again. 
“Your lips are squishy,” you announce after a while of staring and not blinking,, “like gum— spongy, pink, could be almost made of cake.” 
Eddie adored you, the way your eyebrows quirked like a cartoon when you were deep in thought or admiring his face. 
“Definitely not cake, but you could taste them if you’d like?” 
“Does it hurt?” you ask, removing your fingers from his mouth and squishing his cheeks. 
“The boner you’re sitting on? Yeah, a bit.” 
Your eyes widened in honest horror, “swear to God— I thought it was a flashlight.” 
“Nope,” Eddie attempts a wink but ends up shutting both eyes for a collective six seconds, “that's all me baby.” 
Hands lacing around his neck you grin stupidly into him, pressing your lips to the pretty plush that makes up his mouth. Pecking them with soft chicken like kisses. 
His hands work the globe of your ass, squeezing, rubbing, spanking, as you bite along his collar bone, keeping your teeth marks printed into his skin— your own method of claiming him. 
Buttons scatter along the dirt floor as you rip his shirt open, desperate to see the black widow that had been teasing you, the grotesque demonic zombie head that called the left side of his chest home. He promised someday the right side would be all yours. 
Tracing your name into the blank space with your finger nail, Eddie lets out a low groan. Hooded eyes stare at you and his mouth is on yours before you can finish taking a breath. 
It’s hot, uncoordinated in every way as the two of you claw at each other's pants in the mile high condition you were both in. 
“Why…” you grunt struggling against his zipper, leaning backwards towards his knees, “..is this so difficult.” 
Eddie looks down and grins lazily. 
“Here, lemme help.” He unfastens the button on his jeans, wiggling his hips to shove hia jeans down enough so his cock stood like a tent in his checkered boxers. 
“A picnic?” You gleam with red stark stars in your eyes, “for me?” 
He pulls you forward, “oh baby, take all that you want.” 
It’s quick, dirty, every bit of clumsy filled with shared laughs that were laced with whimpering moans as your bodies rock together, coming together so hard you nearly break the chair. 
You buckle into him, fingers digging into his shoulders to hold yourself up. His spend on the belly of your shirt and the top of the waistband of your ‘easy access’ cotton shorts. 
Nestling into him further you inhale the scent from the sweet burn of weed and sex clinging to his skin and the toothpaste that dribbled down his neck that wasn’t wiped off well enough. 
His hands stroke your back lazily, lips pressed to your shoulder, cock softening on your thigh. 
“What time is it?” 
“Sweetheart, I couldn’t read my watch right now if I tried—everything is spinning.” 
His face is pale, neck clammy with sweat. 
“Gonna puke?”
“Tryin’ not—” 
Holding tight to your waist and moving you over, he throws up the breakfast you had made at two in the afternoon. Eddie hurled and hurled until he shook from the ache of dry heaving.
Leaning back in the chair that you both couldn’t remember the exact whereabouts of how it appeared— he yawned with exhaustion.
“Let’s go home, take a hot shower, have a little nap?” 
He nods and you help him up, pulling his hands until he’s flat footed, and you’re stumbling your way ahead of him. 
“Jesus, I fucking came and barfed on your shirt.” 
You shrug, slurring, “it’s okay— it’s yours anyway.” 
He scoffs in bratty metal fashion, offended by your music knowledge or lack thereof, “I don’t own a ‘Journey’ shirt.”
Eddie pulls you back by the waist and examines the shirt, flipping the collar to see a sharpied ‘WM’ on the tag. 
He geeks out a smile, the color of his irises bleaching back to dark brown, “better get that ‘good girl’ act ready— because Wayne is going to lose his fucking mind.”
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