#these tags continue to get out of hand SEND POST

[lonewolflupe]

Please take Cupid's hand to me And find out what is meant to be

Event info below the cut (:

Before continuing, please know that I'm still working on all the remaining Meme Mania Event requests - I just wanted to drop the Valentine's Event, since it's slightly time sensitive (:

CT-1402, nicknamed 'Cupid', is ready for his next mission: he's here to deliver your Valentine's messages! During this event, you'll be able to send out messages to all the people here on Tumblr that are dear to you. Let them know what they mean to you, how much you appreciate their content or your online time together.

Also please check out this Cupid art by @ghostymarni <3

Interested in handing your message(s) to Cupid? Check out the rules:

RULES

You can send in messages until February 13 at 10AM CET

This event is all about love, friendship, kindness and appreciation (if there's something unkind in your message, I'll delete the ask and won't send it out)

Deliver your message by filling in the underneath form and sending it into my askbox

You can choose to stay anonymous towards the receiver (or go get creative and write your message as one of the clones!)

To save myself from drowning into too much work, you can choose between 8 clones (see list below) to accompany your message

You are allowed to send in as many messages to different receivers as you'd like (in one or multiple asks; whatever suits you)

I'll collect all received messages and will send them out in 8 different posts (one per clone) on February 14

Neither the sender nor the receiver has to be a follower of mine; just share some love during this event <3

Please use this form:

Receiver: (Tumblr username) Message: (what would you like to say to receiver?) Clone pick: (ONE per message; see options below) Sender: (leave open if you want to stay anonymous)

Clone art options: (you can pick ONE per message)

Rex

Wolffe

Fox

Fives

Hardcase

Echo (TBB)

Crosshair

Tech

That's it! So please go write your messages and toss them into my askbox and SPREAD THE LOOOOOVE ❤️

For this event I'll be using the following tag: #lonewolflupe's valentine

[bluntforcefem]

been rolling around the idea for a few months of a fusion mechanic for interstitial that isnt amalgam-based (pure self-indulgence for when me and my friends do a campaign) which is not... too entirely far off from what about pacrim would be interesting to me as interstitial-based mechanics (read: the drift)

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[discontinuedepisode]

The Ghost King was in many ways like him. Young, reckless, power-bound and oddly melodramatic. Was he a dream too? Did the Infinite Realms dream up a successor or was his life never scripted like his very own.

The chances were low. Still, getting upset at Time for waking him with the help of a pretty boy with changing eyes is asking for trouble.

Short DPXDC Prompts #749

Tim Drake isn’t human, he knows that and is comfortable in his skin. This strange ghost boy very obviously isn’t comfortable in his ghost form around humans. He will help change that.

[visionsofmagic]

❝screaming another man’s name while being fucked by him❞

including: zoro, luffy, sanji, shanks [opla versions]

―❛ nsfw, brat!reader, f!reader, possessive behaviour, chocking (kinda), licking, different positions, daddy kink, swearing, pet names, spanking, angry sex, humiliation, begging, fingering, oral > f receiving, marking, claiming, mentions of voyeurism, hair, ‘is all  I suppose. ✸ wc: 2.3k ✸ posted only zoro’s version but didn’t appear on tags, so, I repost that part with others’ parts too. tried to stay in characters. enjoy!

⭑ ZORO

“oohhh - sanji!”

you moaned, not aware of your own moans until he asked, voice deep, sending radiations of danger.

“what did you just say?”

hands on your waist freezing, the pressure still on there yet it doesn’t continue pulling and pushing your body, stopping fucking you - the sudden silence in the room fills up with heavy breathing.

he holds you by the neck, raising your body up, he makes your back touch his bare chest, back arching - his cock twists inside your walls.

“I asked,” he says, warm breaths hitting your ear as his voice reaches every part of your body as if it's a poison - and he is the only cure for it. “what did you fucking say.”

it wasn’t intentional - you didn’t mean to moan another man’s name in the middle of fucking, but, it came as an instinct.

“z-zoro - I - didn’t mean to - aggh -!”

“didn’t mean to what? moaning another man’s name?” he chuckled, far away from entertaining, just pure annoyance. “moaning sanji’s name while my dick inside you, breakin’ you into half, hm?”

you can’t answer, you can’t even comprehend what to do because you don’t understand why you moaned sanji’s name. however, zoro knows you more than you do, and owns every knowledge about the hidden meanings behind your actions, words, and looks - he isn’t dumb, he knows how you close your thigh around sanji whenever he cooks, watching him from the corner of your eyes as you bite your lips without even noticing it.

it is not that zoro doesn’t get jealous, he does and he will prove it right away yet he wants to satisfy you in every way he can - he can see the truth behind the whole thing; you want the full attention that you try to make him angry with all these acts, and you have no idea that you’re doing all that only for him - for zoro so that he can get possessed around you.

he’s a pleaser though, for you, and he will plan your little game, giving what you want.

“maybe I should call him,” he says, and whimpers when your pussy clenches around his length on its own - pure instinct, pure satisfaction. he smirks, pride runs in his veins, he really knows you - each hit point, each desire, everything. he leaves your body, bending it over again, ass getting higher.

he begins to fuck you so slow that you swear you will lose your mind anytime soon as his cock goes out of your horny clit until his tip touches your folds, only to shove it in again with a hard yet effective thrust.

weren’t his hands holding you by the hips, you would hit the wall in front of your face - moaning louder than before, afraid that the crew will hear you as you get fucked by furious zoro.

“ohh, I definitely should call him. wanna make him watch your pretty face as I fuck your hungry pussy for my cock,” he says, thrusting faster each passing time, making your hands grip the sleeves under you. “would you like that?” he asks, balls hitting every right spot of your ass cheeks, thrust begins to mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“ohhh - zoro - zoro -!”

“that’s right baby. roronoa zoro,” he kneels down, abdomen touching your back, dick reaches the end of your pussy, a hand grips your hair, pulling it harshly, “scream my fucking name louder, wanna hear it, wanna everyone hear it as well.”

“‘m sorry, zoro, ‘m so sorry -“

“oh please,” he mocks you, leaving your hair, only to hold you by the neck this time, pushing you onto the mattress lower, cries rush onto your face. soaking, you moan his name over and over again. “you’re not sorry at all. you’re just a slut, aren’t you?” his fingers play with your ass hole, sending a new sense of satisfaction into your body, “a slut only for my cock though,” he whispers into himself, slapping your ass, earning a scream out of your pretty parted lips.

then, he turns you around, and the cock swifts inside you - standing above you, he puts one of his hands beside your head, and the other one grips your neck completely, making you look up to his face - he finds the pace that he knows that will make you see starts.

eyes sparkling with lust as you look at him, half-closed, blurry already, dry tears on the cheeks, chest raising up and down rapidly while his cock fucks your abused clit harder, and deeper. “yes my slut,” he says, possessiveness can be heard through his voice, “look at who’s fucking you right now. not luffy, not that shitty waiter sanji either. just roronoa zoro. who’s fucking you? whose pussy is this? say it.”

“roro - ohhhh, shit - roronoa z-zoro!”

he nods with such pride that he smirks, still furious, but enjoying this so much that he decides to fuck you in every position he can until the whole crew knows you’re getting fucked by him in his damn room, crying only his name. “that’s it my pretty slut, you will never forget it. from now on, I will dig it into your dizzy head so that your legs will open on their own whenever you see me.”

“please, yes, yes, zoro!” going all mindless, you let him do what he wants - after all, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?

“pretty slut. gotta make you know who you belong to.”

⭑ LUFFY

“fuuuck - usopp!” the words - the moan comes out of you without your control, making his head higher up.

“huh? say somethin’ baby?” he asks, not stopping eating you from the back, fingers joined, brows raised, curiously looking at you.

“‘m so sorry, luffy - I - I wasn’t thinking straight- I - ohhh!” you try to say but your words are cut by his fingers scissoring inside you.

“oh,” he says, sounding not surprised but excited, chuckling even as he adds, “I didn’t hear it wrong then. you really moaned his name - while my tongue is deep inside you, fingering this beautiful pussy that I thought clenching because of how good I am fucking you.”

between your loud whimpers mixing with moans, you begin to say how sorry you are. you weren’t aware of it until the moment usopp’s name left your mouth. you knew it was luffy who was making you week on the knees, who’s have your legs wrapped around his bare shoulders, your pussy wide open, hands on his curly hair as you pull them whenever his tongue and fingers reach your g-spot - only he can fuck you like this, you know it! but why you moaned usopp’s name, why you pictured him in your mind beside luffy are the questions you have no answers to.

“I don’t know what happened to me - ohhh - luffy, ‘m so sorry - fuuck!”

both moaning with pleasure and crying with pure guilt, you try to hide your face from luffy, a hand positioned on your half of the face, not looking at him, afraid that you made him upset and disappointed yet luffy is there to prove you wrong when he leaves your pussy, gets up, holding you by the chin as he lowers down, making both of you hit the bed underneath you.

hovering over you, he makes you see his smiling face, lips shining because of your soaking, eyes sparkling.

“oh, pretty baby, look at me,” he says, caressing your chin, “I am not mad. not at all. if you want to bring another man into the bed -“

“no, no - I don’t - I really don’t!” you protest, so shy at the thought. you only want luffy, you know that, and you want to apologize to him for being such a greedy girl, “you’re my one and only luffy. I only want you.”

he chuckles softly, shaking his head, fingers finally finding your aching pussy again, playing with it as he says, “‘s okay. if I am the only one you want, then, let me fuck you that your whole body remember I am the one and only for it.”

he keeps his promises, fucking you until the only thing you have on your mind is him - nothing more, nothing less.

yet he doesn’t leave you without teasing you, giving you wet kisses, markings, and even slaps from here to there - enjoying seeing you all shy yet greedy for him.

⭑ SANJI

“oh yes, yes, yes, right there - so good so good - please more, zoro, please!”

“hm? what?” he asks in a surprised tone, hands stopping playing with your breasts, tongue staying on the hardened nipple without moving, eyes looking up to your confused face from where he stays on - your exposed chest.

he smirks, a bit of jealousy and entertainment at the same time, realizing you have no clue about what you said a second ago, legs push him closer - wanting his cock deep inside your warm walls to start moving again because you can’t understand why he has stopped fucking you.

“oh my beautiful madam,” he teases, “can’t even realize he moaned another man’s name while having my cock warm inside her pussy!”

your eyes widen after you comprehend the words he’s saying.

you swear lowly, hands touch his well-built chest, heat rushing all over your face, and you begin to feel guilt blooming inside your abdomen which has twisted.

“sanji - I am so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t -“ he cuts you off, right hand finds your neck as long fingers caress your face.

his face so close to yours as he chuckles, “oh, did my pretty lady remember who’s fucking her? not zoro, eh?”

he can’t decide whether he should feel humiliated or amused. yet he doesn’t go hard on you, moving his hips, he earns low moans from you - hands trembling on his chest, the dilemma rises up inside the mind, thoughts about zoro shuts down by sanji, he shoves his dick into you slowly and in one go as if he’s trying to remind you that you’re under him - not zoro’s or any other man’s.

“please, sanji - faster, please!” your please now is filled with his name comes as prays into his ears, the pride increases, giving sanji a chance to play with your cute little mind.

“that’s right baby, sanji - say that again.” his movements become faster, harder.

“sanji, sanji, sanji - aggh, so good -“ with the help of the last decent you have, you moan his name louder and louder, wanna make him prove that you’re mind full of him, giving him the apology he deserves in a way he would like to get; being so noisy that everyone will acknowledge what you’re doing behind the doors.

“would make a mess out of you. you will leave this room barely walking because of me,” his possession is perceivable, burning you alive with the desire for more. hands grip your inner thighs, opening them wider, a painful breath leaves your lungs as you shut your eyes, giving sanji what he wants; devouring you to tame you.

“pretty lady needs a lesson, and I am here to give it.”

⭑ SHANKS

he doesn’t say much, chuckling or laughing would suit him better but he knows you should have known that no one can fuck you like he does when another’s man comes from you - moaning with it instead of saying shank’s name.

holding you from the waist, he takes control of you, not letting you ride him no more, sweats flow from your body into his.

the moment you hear his voice, memories of the past seconds rush to your mind, and you find yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, afraid that he will push you.

contrary to what you expect, shanks moves your hips slowly, forth, and back - his balls feel heavy under you, hair on his lower abdomen makes the pleasure double.

you hold your tears; blurry vision, soaking clit, reddened face, agape mouth - pathetic yet beautiful, he thinks. “daddy’s cock isn’t enough for you, hm, is this the case why you moan another man’s name like that even when you’re,” he takes your chin, making you look down, seeing the mess you’re creating, “cumming onto my cock?”

“it’s not it, shanks!” earn a spank on your ass.

“then what is it princess?” he asks, brows raised, fingers traveling on your body, “am I not fucking you good that you fantasize about another man while bouncing on my lap?”

he lets you say countless sorry words, cries inside his arms, explaining how you didn’t mean to do that, how he’s the only one for you yet he doesn’t seem satisfied, taking a deep breath, raising your body then lowering it down - cock thrusting deep and hard.

throwing your head, you begin to beg for him to forgive you, to fuck you.

“in that case,” he says, putting himself a glass of wine from the small table beside you while still sitting on his favorite chair that he fucks you onto. leaning back, he moves his hand in the air, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you can beg for my cock, then, I will forgive you and fuck your greedy pussy princess,”

he watches you going blank for a moment before beginning to bounce on him, moaning from the throat, hands traveling around your body to make a show only for his eyes.

he whimpers lowly, a smirk lightening his attractive face, eyes burning in fire, “give daddy a show. and when you’re done, I will call for him and make him watch as I fuck you good.”

❤💙

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ❦

[with-my-calamitous-love]

more gentlemen thoughts, insta edition 🤍🫧

gentleman! bakugou, who makes you tag him in photos of you. who says he doesn’t give a fuck about social media, but who is always the first to view/like your stories. who makes you delete other guys comments on your posts who knows your beautiful and knows damn well how jealous he gets. who barely ever posts, but lets up with a collage of all his favourite photos of you and a sweet caption on your anniversary. who rolls his eyes when you freak out about it, but loves how it makes you blush.

gentleman! izuku, who dedicates a highlight to you. who puts your user in his bio with a little <3 next to it. who only occasionally posts on his stories, but does it more when he’s with you. who will send you pics of animals being cute together and say ‘us.’ who makes long captions on your anniversary, probably having to continue it in the comments. whose students find his instagram and tease him about all the sweet photos with you. who isn’t ashamed about showing you off.

gentleman! shouto, who doesn’t really understand the concept of instagram until you show him. who is the kind of guy to have the blank profile photo until changing it to a photo of you and him. who reminds you not to doomscroll, but always finds the most obscure reels to send to you. who has a groupchat with all his siblings and adds you to it, though he only sends gifs, emojis, or one-worded texts. who loves those subtle soft launches- holding hands, or posting a selfie with lipstick kisses on his face (his followers freak out.)

gentleman! kirishima, who you have those dumb, matching profile pictures with (you know EXACTLY what i’m talking about !). who loves posting workout photos with you, mirror selfies where he’s back hugging you with the caption saying how proud he is of you. who puts your initial in his bio, and turns almost as red as his hair when he sees the e.k <3 in yours. who only has posts for his family and for you. who somehow has the worst photos of you, but insists on loving them anyway- he’ll delete them if you really want him to, but he’ll pout relentlessly. who reposts every one of your selfies, just proud to love you.

gentleman! denki, who makes you his profile picture- a cute, funny photo or maybe a photo of you as a kid. who is never not sending you things (he is the ceo of brainrot). who posts clips of you two playing games together, conveniently only posting the clips where you suck just to tease you. who always reposts the ‘i love my girlfriend’ tiktoks and tags you in his stories. who posts cute screenshots of ur convos and call screens whenever you’ve been on for a long time. who comments on your posts saying ‘i won’.

gentleman! hitoshi, who puts your user in his bio and ‘favourite’ right next to it. who only has two posts on his profile- just a random one with little sneak peaks from his life, and one thats just you. who manages to take the best photos of you without even trying, and refuses to delete them even when they take up half his storage. who is a fast responder only for you, taking hours to text back anyone but who’ll read your text right away. who has a link to your shared spotify playlist in his bio (he has the best music taste). who has you and you alone on his cfs, posting little messages and online love letters for you to see <3

[kurosaaki]

THINKING ABOUT SOFT DOM!TOJI.

WARNINGS: smut—soft dom!toji, vaginal sex, big dick toji, creampie, unprotected sex, size kink (i guess?), praise, pet names (doll, baby, princess), use of ‘slut’ (twice), use of ‘bitch’ (once). this has absolutely no plot lol.

SUMMARY: toji is not known for being a gentle lover. but sometimes, once in a blue moon, it happens. the stars collide, the planets align and suddenly he’s treating you like his princess. don’t get too comfy tho, he’s still a bastard even in his softest moments.

TAGS: @driaswrld

A/N: my first jjk post ever ahhhh bye im doing cartwheels. reblogs are appreciated!

Toji's eyes softened as he watched the tiny tears welling in your eyes, realizing that the pleasure was almost too much for you to handle. He caressed your cheek gently, grazing your tears with his thumb.

"Shh, s’alright, doll," he whispered soothingly, his voice gentle and comforting. "I got ya. We can take it even slower…”

Toji began to withdraw, his movements feverishly slow and temptative, easing the pressure on your sensitive walls, making you feel a familiar warmness building up withing you.

His lips pressed against your forehead, his voice filled with reassurance. "Big breaths, doll. Feel it, let yourself adjust, baby. We don't have to rush…yeah, that’s it."

Toji wasn’t a very gentle lover when it came to sex. He was all about spanking, hair-pulling, light choking, hickeys, dirty talk…you name it. But once in a blue moon, he’d change his ways with you on the bed.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Shallow thrusts, small whimpers leaving your lips and his ragged breaths filling the room. Your wetness coating his cock, his balls sticking to your slick cunt with each thrust. It was all too good for you to not roll your eyes back in pleasure. He peppered soft kisses along your neck, his dark hair grazing your skin making you tickle.

You were in heaven.

“Toji— just like that, please…” You moan as he thrusts slowly, stretching your tight walls at a slow yet agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, keeping him on a lock that’d drive him crazy as always.

“Like that, huh? Y’like this feeling, don’t ya?” he mumbles, “Being stretched up by me, gettin’ your pretty pussy pounded? Such a good slut. My good slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out small whimpers of pleasure, and his name slipping out of your lips like a prayer. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel like his only purpose was this— to make you drench in pleasure, to drive you over the edge of lustful insanity.

His lips curled into that well-known smirk of his as he listened to your pleas. He changed his pace, his thrusts slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness of your walls, the way they clenched around him with each hard thrust.

He loved making you feel this way. He loved the feeling of your nails scratching his broad back—to see the marks the next morning—, he loved the way you arched your back as if to seek for more, he loved how you looked so tiny under the man he was.

He savored the feeling of your warmth enveloping him, the way you clenched around him like crazy in response to his movements.

His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled it slowly, teasingly, intensifying the pleasure that you were feeling

"Tell me, princess," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky. "Does this feel good, huh?"

“Feels so good. So good, Toji—feel so full” you moan at both the feeling of his fingers circling your clit and him inside you, “Oh, Toji, right there!”

Oh, how he loved hearing that.

His fingers continued to circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send jolts of pleasure through your body. He increased the pace of his thrusts, his movements becoming more intense as desire coiled tightly within him as well.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice filled with raw desire. "Feel me, all of me."

His hips met yours, each thrust hitting that sweet spot that made your toes curl and dig your nails deeper onto his back.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You're so fucking sexy when you're like this, doll. Moaning my name, begging for more. Like a bitch in heat”

There he is. No matter how loving, how patient, how smooth or how gentle he tries to be, he still has that demon inside him. You can’t blame him— because you like it.

His movements grew more forceful, his thrusts becoming harder and faster as he chased his own release, and yours as well. You could feel the familiar tightness coiling in you, driving you closer to the edge, making your walls squeeze him.

“Holy fuck, doll!” he gritted between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again,“You’re squeezing me s’tight, damn it— I’m not gonna last long if ya keep it like that”

He gripped your hips firmly, his hands guiding your movements as your legs locked around his waist. His thrusts grew more relentless, hitting deeper and harder with each stroke.

“T-Tojiii,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you bit your lip, “I’m gonna cum! “Please, please— cum inside me!” you whisper, almost breathless as your mind tries to form sentences.

As your legs shake, he holds you steady, ensuring that you're fully supported as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing down onto you.

It’s not long before he breaths in sharply, a small grunt coming out of his lips as he feels he’s letting go as well.

His forehead rests on your shoulder as he gives the last sloppy thrusts, breathing fast as he cums inside you—just like you asked him to.

For a moment, time stood still as the intensity of your orgasms consumed you both. He was still inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to regain his composture, at least.

He gathered you in his arms, pulling you close in a tender embrace. "You were incredible, princess" he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "So fucking good. But we’re not done yet— just gimme 5 minutes and i’ll show ya more” he said, chuckling to himself.

Oh, you were in for another sleepless night.

[safination]

The Only Temptation

|Masterlist| Pairings: Alastor x Reader Tags/ Warnings; f!Reader, Demon! Alastor. Heats! Ruts! Alastor and Ruts! dual POV, Handjob, dirty talking, phone handjob, TLDR: Alastor's rut is being drawn out by a doe who is definitely not you, but weirdly enough or not so weirdly enough, he only seems to craves you. AN: Hello! I haven't posted in a while, but pshhh we'll just ignore that. Since I'm turning the big 22, this fic will also be 2/2. This is just 1/2 (Truthfully, I just ran out of time and decided to cut this into 2 parts.) Also, will you look at that! My first smut! Handjobs should count as smut right? And here I thought my religious ass would never make one of these. Oh, well. It goes without saying but I'm going to say it anyway: MINORS DNI

There’s a doe in the Hazbin Hotel.

You bumped into her as you were making your way to Alastor’s radio tower. There would be more of these types of interactions if you actively lived in the hotel like you want, but Alastor refuses to allow you to stay for too long with the excuse of it being safer to hide you away at home while he stays here.

There are ears on the top of this doe’s head. It reminds you of Alastor. They’re a bit cute – more than, ‘a bit cute’ if you were being honest. Downright adorable if you were really being honest. Spots trails over her shoulders and continue into her clothes.

What an itty-bitty doe. So ready to be devoured! (Part of you wonders if Alastor would appreciate the taste of a doe’s flesh. A surprise gift, maybe?)

You’ve never seen a doe in Hell before, but she’s not really important to you right now. So, you throw her to the back of your mind and make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

All of Alastor’s senses are heightened because of that damn doe. It’s quite a predicament as rut season nears, and the pheromones being released place him in quite the difficult spot.

It gets worse when his ears catch upon a slight knock and . . . and the scent of you.

Alastor can’t describe what prickles his nose, but it’s the scent of morning coffee shared through one mug. He takes a deeper whiff and it becomes the scent of soft music playing through the radio as you dance around the room.

It seems that doe has unlocked something in him. The scent of you has never tasted like that until now. It brings out a hunger for you that goes deeper than normal.

The smell intensifies when the door clicks open, and that hunger strikes even deeper. It travels through the air, settling itself in his stomach. Alastor pierces the tips of his claws into his skin before he could fully lose himself.

It becomes worse . . . better? . . . when you remove your coat, hanging it on the rack. The scent becomes so strong that he’s enchanted for more than a second. Actually, it’s so heavenly to his senses that blood pools between his legs and settles into his thighs.

Alastor inches closer to the desk, hiding the way his cock has pitched a tent from just the scent of you. He pretends to busy himself with the buttons on the panel, even when the broadcast ended five-minutes ago.

You swat his hand away, and sit on the table. There’s deliberate care in the way you prop yourself, careful not to hit any of the knobs.

A small smile. “Hi.”

“Hi . . .” Alastor lays his head on your thighs, shighing into their plumpness as he swipes his thumb on your skin. Everything about you sends high frequency pitches into his skin. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Well, my dearest,” you begin, massaging the base of his antlers, “the purpose of a surprise if for it to be unsuspecting.”

The witty response to your statement dies in his throat. A groan of relief replaces it as you continue to massage his antlers. That annoying itch lessens when you press on the base just a little firmer.

That fact that it feels good to have his antlers scratched can only mean one thing . . .

“You’re nearing your rut,” you say, plain and simple, as if his unnoticed erection already isn’t an indicator. “Hmmm, it seems I picked a good time to drop by.”

Alastor leans his cheek a little bit deeper into your thighs. “It’s still too early.”

“Does it have to do something with that little doe I spotted earlier?”

Alastor isn’t getting used to your scent.

Usually, strong scents should fade into the background after some time. Usually. Alastor is constantly and painfully aware of the scent of heaven on your skin.

Everything about you is driving him up the wall. So much so, the Alastor stays limp in your hold, afraid that shifting will cause his already sensitive erection to brush against you.

“What a silly thought,” he says, even as his cock throbs uncomfortably in his pants. Alastor’s never been this hard before. That heavenly scent means he’ll have to send you away soon if his rut is hitting a little early.

How has he never noticed how good you smell?

“There’s no reason you have to go through this alone.” You pull on the ends of his hair. “Maybe there’s a reason why it takes you a month to calm down. Wouldn’t getting your satisfaction speed things along?”

“That’s out of the question.”

“You won’t know if we don’t try,” you say, frowning a little. “We can at least try, dearest. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Alastor allows himself to dream about it. It would be nice to have you to himself for a month, if his erection is an indicator. Your very presence is already causing a wet patch of pre-cum to spread. He’s so painfully hard that he can feel the beat of blood going through his veins.

Alastor would take you, hiding you at home. It’s purposely far from the prying eyes of the bustling city. There he would spend the next month burying himself into you. The hunger that gnaws on his belly will be satiated with the taste of the combined fluids dripping down your cunt.

No, that wouldn’t do. That would just be a waste of perfectly good cum. It needs to stay inside you if he’s going to defy a Sinner’s biology. Alastor would need to take every drop, and make sure it’s not wasted. He would fill you up until a large bulge would—

What is he thinking about?

Giving in to his instincts would do you more harm than good. You weren’t a doe, and that means your body isn’t meant to handle his rut.

“It’s not safe for you to be at the hotel at the moment.” Alastor is playing a dangerous game – one where Heaven has set its hat into the ring.

There’s a reason why he’s hidden the house from prying eyes. It’s much safer . . . or at least that’s the reason he’s giving you.

A small frown. “Then we can hide away at home.”

“I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself.” Alastor nuzzles into your thigh. “We have the same argument every season.”

“I see,” you say, and that’s a proper frown on your lips now. “I won’t be seeing you for some time then.”

“Now, now. Don’t frown, cher.” Alastor pushes your lips up into a bright smile. “You look absolutely ravishing in one of these.”

There’s a small smile that grows on your face.

You tilt his chin, and press a kiss on the edge of his smile. Alastor crosses his legs, digging his claws into them to try and regain any semblance of control.

“I think I would almost miss you, my dearest,” you tell him, showing off that cheeky, little smile. “It’s bound to get incredibly dull around here. It always does when you’re not around.”

Alastor barks out a laugh, pulling your face into his hold to stare into you. Just a little longer. That’s all he needs. “Flirting? That’s certainly a new tactic,” he says, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think I would miss you as well, cher.”

Alastor pulls off his bowtie in one swift motion, throwing it off somewhere irrelevant. It’s been hours, yet he’s still so painfully hard. It forced him to hide away in his room the moment you left. Changing into looser clothing helps, but every brush of his cock sends tingles up his spine.

His shadow crawls up the wall with a scowl. The thing zooms around, seemingly in a mood as foul as his. It disappears under the cracks of the door, and Alastor doesn’t have enough blood circulating through his brain to question where it went.

Maybe, the blood would be passing through his brain if it wasn’t pooling in his throbbing erection. It’s been throbbing all day long.

Damn that does.

Alastor should kill her; end the madness she’s bringing. If the hormones from her heat stop, then his rut won’t start for another few days, or maybe even a week if he’s lucky.

The delay of his rut means the delay of his departure. Alastor can keep you by his side for a moment longer. Just a little longer until the inevitable.

You can be by his side. You can stay with him. You can . . . you . . . you!

The scent of you invades his nose. It hits harder the more he inhales. But you shouldn’t be here. Alastor sent you away. He made sure you exited those hotel doors, and he kept his eyes on the horizon until he could no longer see you and then a little longer after that.

His shadow slithers back into the room, something in its hands. Alastor lifts his head from the pool of pillows and . . . and it’s your coat.

The scent of you lingers on it.

“Get that thing away from me,” he hisses even as his cock twitches against his underwear. “Go burn it in the fireplace.”

The shadow slithers closer, dropping the coat Alastor just demanded to be burnt. It’s never defied one of his orders before.

His shadow pushes it closer to his face, and all anger fizzles at his throat when the smell of you breaches his nose. It drives him crazy, but it brings some sort or soothing effect as well.

Did you forget it here?

Or did you leave this for him?

Alastor buries his face into it, even when he knows he should return the thing. Alastor isn’t a dense Sinner. He’s well aware of what will happen if he allows something like this to stay . . . but what if you really did leave it for him?

The cloth of his pajama chafes against his skin. It’s too warm, and the scent of your coat is a splash of gasoline in an already burning sea of flames.

The image of holding you plagues his mind. Despite the burning in his skin, Alastor wouldn’t care as long as it came from you. Burning would feel heavenly as long as it was you who held the other end of that matchstick.

The echo of your laughter bounces in his mind, and blood shoots straight down, fueling his erection even more. The cloth from his underwear brushes against it, and a tiny groan escapes him as it goes over the sensitive head.

Alastor’s had enough. It’s adding fuel to his already foul mood. He shreds his clothes off, tearing it with his claws. He lies in a pool of scrapped fabric, his dick springing forth.

The shadow scoots your coat just a little bit closer. Alastor inhales the scent, burying himself into it. It’s a fuel to an already burning flame, but it’s coming from you. So, how bad can it really be?

He shifts his legs, and the way his cock rubs against the silk sheets tears coaxes a moan from his throat. It’s debauchery. It’s sinful . . . but it feels too good. Wet patches of pre-cum stains his sheets.

Alastor trails his palms lower, running them through his stomach until he’s fisted his cock. He pumps his shaft through his fist, trying to find relief.

It’s not . . . It’s not working?

He searches his mind, trying to remember how your fingers would work him into his release.

How tight would you squeeze him?

Where would you start? Alastor should remember that much, considering it was your hand pumping his cock.

Right . . . The head.

Alastor rubs his sensitive head, swirling it around like you do, and fuck! It’s just a shitload of nothing.

His fingers are too rough. You know how to build him into cumming, but you’re not here right now. Haphazardly fisting his cock isn’t going to bring him anywhere.

The temptation to give up is there, but he’s been erect all day. Alastor needs to end this tonight.

Alastor massages the tip once more, but with more purpose, just like you do. A moan releases into the air. If he shuts off all senses, he can pretend that it’s your hand that’s—

His shadow holds up a ringing, landline phone.

Alastor looks at it, then at the hand still fisted around his cock, and the back at his shadow.

The shadow looks back at him.

Alastor squeezes himself, ignoring the shadow as he tries to build that same mood. “Throw it away.”

His shadow has a look on its face, and pushes the thing closer. Alastor’s about to destroy it himself when he realizes there’s only one Sinner who has the number to this landline – You.

Alastor grabs the receiver, ignoring the fact that he’s very naked, lying on a bed that’s stained with his pre-cum, and a very erect dick.

“Alastor!” The sound of your voice stuns him a little, even when he knew it would be you on the other end. “Alastor?” you call out. “Hello?”

It takes him more than a second to take the blood that’s throbbing his erection, and force it up his brain. “And what have I done to displease you, dearest,” he says, “that you would force me to use this blasted phone?”

“That’s what you say every single time you pick up the phone.” You chuckle a little. A small chuckle – that’s all it took to shoot the blood back down. “Yet, not once have you missed my call.”

“This is my punishment, not yours.”

“I’m calling to let you know I made it home with no problem,” you tell him. “And . . . I think I left my coat there.”

“Ah . . . yes.” Alastor swirls the head of his cock. Maybe hearing your voice would be the push he needed. “I’m looking at it right now.”

“Are you alright, dearest?” you say. “You don’t sound too good.”

“Just . . . a little tired.” His breath goes through the receiver, even as his claws dig through the pillow. It’s doing nothing for him – nothing at all. “There’s no need to concern that ridiculous head of yours.”

It’s silent at the other end of the receiver. Alastor can hear the gears turning in your head. You always were a bit too perceptive about him. “Did you run into your new little, doe friend?”

“That thing is not my friend,” Alastor hisses, still trying to pump his shaft.

“My apologies then,” you say, snickering. “I forget that you do not allow yourself the pleasure of friendship, but I’m starting to think that it’s not you who turns away from it.”

“Hilarious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch. Coincidentally, so does his dick. “Well, as lovely as this has been, I’m in the middle of something important. I’ll have one of the ink puppets drop off –”

“I think I left something important in my left pocket,” you say, and despite being miles apart, Alastor can hear your smile. “Could you check it for me, and make sure it’s still there?”

Alastor dips his fingers into your left pocket, finding what seems to be a small card. He flips it over, and this definitely is not a card. It’s a small, polaroid photo. It’s you in that picture. You’re wearing—

Actually, what you’re wearing doesn’t really matter. Alastor will take a look at it later. It’s probably something red. What catches his attention is the fact that your ass is pointed to the air. There are a myriad of bite marks and hickeys around your thighs, leading a path up to your glistening cunt.

“Do you like it?”

Alastor blinks at it for a second . . . and then, another second . . . and its laughter that echoes around his room despite how the picture rushes blood down his already throbbing cock. The need for relief grows stronger.

“Did you take this for me?” Alastor wheezes, eyes bulging in different directions. Tears fall from his eyes as he laughs. “How ridiculous of you, dearest! You’re propped up like a stretching cat.”

“That’s not quite the reaction I was hoping for,” you say, chuckling. “However, I am glad that you’re enjoying it, one way or another.”

Alastor shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, and glances at his painfully throbbing erection. “I’m in quite the predicament because of you.”

“Oh!” You sound a bit too delighted. “So, you’re—”

“As a rock.” Alastor pokes his dick, hoping it would do something.

“How amusing!” Your laughter rings into the receiver. Alastor revels in it, enjoying the sound. “You’re eerily responsive tonight. Shall I send you more?”

Alastor rolls his eyes at you. “Take responsibility for what you’ve caused.”

“Al, I already did my portion,” you say. “I can’t exactly do the next part for you, unless you drag yourself home.”

“And what do you expect me to do with this?”

Alastor swears he can hear the way your eyes roll at him. “I think you know what to do.”

“Don’t mock me.” Alastor flicks the head of his cock. “It’s not working. So, take responsibility for your actions.”

It’s silent for a little bit, but his ears pick up the way you lick your lips. “Why don’t you take a moment to get comfortable.”

Alastor takes a moment he doesn’t need. Talking to you always brings him comfort. “That’s been taken care of.”

“My naughty buck . . . I start with the tip,” you tell him. “I use a little bit of that pre-cum to lubricate you. Swirl it around before pumping it down.”

Alastor does as he’s told, massaging the sensitive tip as he lubricates himself. The sound of your breathing . . . the lingering scent from your coat . . . it coaxes a small moan from him. Alastor makes sure you can hear him through the receiver.

“I trail my fingers up the back, tracing that little line,” you tell him, and there’s definitely a smile on your face. “Can you do that for me, my sweet Al?”

Alastor gasps into the air, using the tips of his sharp claw to trace a path from the base to the head. It’s exactly how you do it. He can almost believe that it’s your hand that’s touching him.

“What’s next?” He breathes through the receiver, closing his eyes to revel in the feeling of everything. “What’s next, cher? Tell me what to do.”

“Make a ring with your finger, and wrap it around the base,” you tell him, voice a bit low. “Tighter, Alastor. Make it tighter than you think you need it to be.”

Alastor will never have the ability to deny you. So, there’s really nothing really else but to make a ring with his finger. The constant pressure feels so heavenly sinful. His hips buck up as he squeezes even tighter. Alastor takes his other hand, and pumps the length of his shaft in slow motions, making sure he feels every ounce of his building pleasure.

“Are you thinking about me right now?” you say. “Am I running around in that head of yours, pressing kisses before I take you into my mouth? Or am I on your hips, bouncing along to the beat of your drum?

“You never stopped.” Alastor thinks he moans your name, but the way he buries his face into your coat overloads his senses. The fire in his stomach burns faster, rising to the way you stroke his flames. “Cher . . . cher.”

“I’m right here, Alastor,” you say, and there’s a playful tint in the way you say his name. “Faster, dear. Lose yourself into me.”

Alastor jerks his hips, driving his cock into his hand faster and faster and faster.

The sound of your breathing pulls him along as he ruts into his hand, chasing sinfully sweet release. Alastor glances back at the photo of you, ass so high it’s practically worshiping him.

As he drives his hips up, Alastor notices something glistening around your folds.

A loud moan rips itself out of him. That’s his seed painting your cunt, slowly dripping out of you.

Finally, finally, his pleasure builds to its peak, and topples him over. Ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, pooling around his stomach. Alastor keeps pumping, dragging out all it’s worth as he spurts all over the bed, watching his seed drop to your coat.

Alastor doesn’t stop humping his fist, even as cum on your coat changes the smell on it. He keeps going until he’s still holding his still erect cock, driving it faster up his own sticky seed.

There’s a second where his mind clears for a fraction. Alastor takes a look around at the mess he’s making, and to the mess that he will make.

 No . . . no.

It’s all wrong.

Why is he cumming on his fist? This . . . this should be inside you.

If you happen to read this, I wanna thank all my friends in this fandom. The friendship I found in all of you makes me happier than I can ever express. I dedicate this handjob to : @nyx-umbrakinesis @redfoxwritesstuff @redvexillum @whatswrongwithblue @inuhalfdemon @crackrodent . I hope each and every one of you knows that you have all pushed me to become a better writer, and pushed me out of my own comfort zone. Each and every one of your works inspire me to become better and push myself to my limits. If it wasn’t for everyone at VoxTek, I would have dropped Alastor a long time ago. There’s a tweet I found that says we should be writing not for an audience but for ourselves and our five friends who are crazy enough to read what we write. I write for me and for you.

[valentine-cafe]

making 781 rishen give head to a toy while amab reader fucks him from behind, calling him a good boy and saying he’s doing such a good job 😌😌😌

˖⁺. “ suck, pretty boy ! ” :

﹙ bttm nerd hybrid x top amab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 rishen x amab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ hero ˖ spider-moth-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ﹚

you love whenever your boyfriend has his lips wrapped around your dick. so much so that you need to have him sucking off a toy while you pound him senseless

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ oral fixation ˖ penetrative sex ˖ handjob ˖ rough sex ˖ oral | wc : 0.6

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Muffled noises of pleasured cries take turns to dance around the bedroom. Blended together with skin against skin, the small huffs of breaths that you allow to pass your throat. Adam’s apple bopping up and down as you groan at the tight feel around your hard dick.

You push the dildo in Rishen’s mouth further, while jerking him off with your other hand, trying your best to keep yourself steady to pound away at his poor, fluttering hole.

“F-Fuck, look at you. Good boy, Rishen.” Pant after pant, you grin down at your boyfriend, speeding up your thrusts and squeezing at the tip of his cock. The sensations causing him to gag on the fake silicone dick and roll his eyes back into his skull.

Drool tirckles down his chin, making a mess below on the sheets to match the stains of cum. Oh the sight makes you sigh in satisfaction.

A small pop sounds from his mouth as the cock is pulled out, allowing some of the wonderful moans he makes flow freely.

“D-dios— Se siente tan bien.” He whines out, hips stuttering backwards into you. However, tan skin meets the soft sheets quick after. As your hand shovers her down into it to bone prone him and speed up the pace.

“Uh-uh. I said no moving amor.” You chuckle, shoving the dildo back into Rishen’s mouth and moving it to the back of his throat, which takes the toy in like an old friend. Red lips sucking around it desperately, while the moans and whines muffle once more.

You take this oppertunity to shallow your thrusts and slowly go down in pace once more, to accentuate the rough plunges of your hips against his poor ass.

“You hear that?” Tears well up in his eyes at the grunt by his ear, a small moan passing through his lungs. While you continue: “Hear that pretty ass squelching for me all wet while you’re squirting cum all over.” Barking out a laugh, you squeeze tight at the base of his dick and pull the dildo out so far until the tip is the only thing in his mouth.

The heated chuckle in his ear sends him in a dizzy round of arousal once more, the blood pumping to his throbbing cock as he so shamelessly chases the dildo in your hand to put it back in.

“Lay there and take it so good baby. Such a good boy.” You whisper, grabbing his ass hard as a pair of harsh hips piston into the other.

Any sound that had previously been dulled by the sounds of Rishen choking on cock, rips through the air of the room once more, when you pull the dildo out of his mouth completely, licking it clean and tossing it aside on the bed for later if needed. Your hands grip onto the plush flesh of Rishen’s thighs to push her up against you as much as possible.

Back arched and ass receiving a rough pounding, the man below tears away at the pillows. Toes curling as the knot in his stomach recoils and a hard orgasm overtakes him. Cum spurting out of his dick, while you shoot the hot strings of seed inside of him too. Pulling it out after fucking the rest of the orgasms out of him, you watch with a smile as cum trickles down his pretty thighs.

But you do think it is quite a shame letting all of his cum go to waste on the sheets. So why not flip him over and suck him off, while he chokes on your cock this time to clean up the mess he made you make inside of him.

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[vxsellie]

THE UNITY IN PAIN - E.W

synopsis. soldier!ellie williams x field medic!reader. after being horribly wounded in battle, ellie is brought to you on a stretcher. she'd been blown up by a fucking landmine when her guard was down. however, for some reason, the agony in her mutilated leg instantly subsides as her gaze falls onto you. everything dulls in comparison to your vibrance. notes. this is so random & probably won't even get that much attention bc of how sporadic the trope is, but! this thought came to me and i've been unable to rid my mind of it since i first imagined it also! yes, i changed the synopsis a bit from how it was originally posted when i asked about tagging. i just rewatched g.i. jane & was hungry for writing a war scene rather than just pure romance yk warnings. descriptions of gore, war, corpses, death, and blood. unrealistic medical depictions. wc. 3.6k

the sound of gunfire and screams fill ellie's ears as she runs across the battlefield. her thick combat boots kick up sand with each step she takes, gun clutched firmly against her chest just as she'd been taught. her comrades run alongside her, only a few hundred feet away from the helicopter waiting to take them back to safety a few miles out. her mouth nearly waters at the idea of a hot meal and cold shower. the dirt that clings to her skin is—

boom!

ellie's body suddenly goes flying up into the air, thudding against the ground a few feet away. she groans, ears ringing as she struggles to get onto her knees. as she attempts to move, a jolt of pain shoots up her left leg and agony grips her with an iron fist.

she squeezes her jaw shut. screaming past clenched teeth as she continues to move around, albeit fruitlessly. her body is on fire, every single nerve set aflame as her entire being protests the very notion of so much as breathing.

"williams is down!" she can hear someone shout through her earpiece, relaying the news back to those in the helicopter. she'd usually feel embarrassed at the declaration. but at the moment, she can hardly think straight enough to feel anything. "she must've triggered a landmine! her leg is— just— send a medic! over!"

a few more voices shout in her earpiece as thudding boots can be heard jogging toward her. she screams, continuing her futile attempts at reforming dignity. but all she manages to do is writhe around in pain.

hands are suddenly grabbing at her, comrades holding her under the arms and by the thighs as they haul her onto a stretcher. every movement sends her body into another wave of torment, leg numb as every muscle and nerve screams at her. as the soldiers jog with the stretcher in tow, she continues to groan and writhe, mind muddled by whatever injury she endured and blood loss.

a sudden flash of white can be seen moving in the corner of her eye. she lulls her head in the direction of the color, seeing a field medic rushing over to the stretcher. you walk in stride with the soldiers carrying her, speaking frantically as you assess the situation and how best to approach it.

and, instantly, all the pain in ellie's body vanishes. her mind focuses solely on you and the cloud of gentility you've placed over her without so much as a glance in her direction. her lips part as she pants, eye lidded as she stares up at you with blown pupils. whoever you are, she wishes to see more of you from now on.

you continue to bark orders at the soldiers and demand answers to questions. the sheer power you hold over these militia men is daunting and she loves it.

the thudding footstep sound suddenly shifts, boots no longer against hardened sand and now on thick metal. she looks away from you to blink at her surroundings. the interior of the helicopter spins as she glances around, nothing solid except for your face. so she turns back to you.

this time, however, you're looking right back at her. you're a mere inch from her face as you squint at her, taking in every detail of her. the soldiers ease the stretcher onto the floor as you take over the situation and the copter whirs into power and lifts into the air.

"what's your name, soldier?" you ask, crouching to one knee as you reach into your back pocket, still watching her closely.

"my—" she blinks, taken aback.

"you don't know your name?" you ask her before shaking your head and muttering under your breath, "oh, that's a bad bad sign."

"what? no. nonono, i know my name." she rushes out, words slurred as delirium is beginning to effect every action she takes. "it's— i'm ellie williams."

you raise a brow at her switch-up but say nothing. instead, you nod and pull out a rolled cloth. you shift lower on her body, now crouched at her hips rather than her face. she watches you with bright eyes despite the dullness of the rest of her.

"well, ellie williams." you say, unraveling the cloth to reveal a line of tools and blades to have been hidden within. you grab one of the scalpels. at least ellie thinks it's a scalpel. she's not the smartest at medical shit. you clutch the blade and turn to her. "this mangled leg of yours isn't making it back to base."

"it—" she stammers, voice scratchy and rough in her raw throat. "what's that mean?"

you give her a pitying look, "amputation."

"what're—"

her words are cut off by you driving a second blade into her uninjured leg. she screams out in pain, mind instantly made distracted by the knife in her right leg to pay any mind to the way you're severing off her already wounded one. seeing as it's already numb and almost completely removed at the knee, it makes it easy for you to remove. the issue, though, is your lack of access to sedatives at the moment. and if the blood loss didn't kill ellie, the pain surely would. so, the knife you'd just driven into her right thigh was for her sanity.

she throws her head back, screams tearing from her throat and bouncing off the metallic walls of the helicopter. you grit your teeth and continue, knowing you've ought to make this as quick as humanly possible to ensure ellie will be alive by the time you make it to base.

once you get to her bone and swap tools for a stronger ones, her deafening screams only grow in volume. while the rest of the crew covers their ears and winces at the sound of their comrade in such anguish, you know her screams are a good thing. they're a tell tale sign that she's alive and still feeling pain regularly.

her hands are clutching the edge of her stretcher, knuckles white with pressure applied to her grip. you finish the removal and replace the sharp tools with a roll of gauze. "shh. i know, i know. but look, we're almost done, just have to wrap it now." you mutter under your breath as you work. talking while working keeps you in order and ellie seems to appreciate it as well, her voice dying in her throat as she nods in a daze.

she pins her eyes to your face, watching you once again as you work. you can feel her gaze boring into your face as you tie off her leg at the knee, securing blood flow and bandaging the exposed flesh. afterward, you yank the knife from ellie's right thigh, sending her body to jolt as she yelps. you're quick to tend to her, though, wrapping her thigh alongside her left (half) leg.

you finish the job and almost collapse from your adrenaline rush crashing so fast. ellie's chest rises and falls as she huffs out heavy breaths of air, her eyes blinking slowly as her jaw hangs open. her auburn hair clings to her sweaty skin, the perfect depiction of what war and fatigue can do to a person. only a few minutes ago, she was unwounded and the entire crew was on their way back to base unscathed. in mere seconds, that was obliterated alongside ellie's leg. one misstep and she's lost a limb for the rest of her life.

but this is exactly why you're here; this is your purpose here. helping people the way nobody was able to help your father.

you know what it's like to lose a loved one. to wait at the front door as a child only for big militia men to appear in his stead with a triangularly folded flag to offer their condolences and apologies. the piece of fabric felt a pathetic replacement for your father — the one who taught you to talk, walk, eat, everything. but you still cherished it, promising your little adolescent self that you'd make sure no other family would go through this. not if you could help it, at least.

and now, thanks to you, whoever ellie's family is will be seeing her return. albeit a little less of her, but it'll be her nonetheless.

"what's your name?" she slurs from her spot on the stretcher, pulling your attention away from your thoughts and back down to her mangled form. her hands lay palm up as they release from their death grip on the edge of the stretcher.

"i don't think you should be the one asking the questions here, miss williams." you tell her with a glint of playfulness in your eye. ellie huffs out a laugh but ends up coughing, having to turn her head to the side in case of vomit. you look away, instead using this time to place your tools back into their sheath, mentally scolding yourself to remember to wash them off later.

"ask away," ellie roughs out, her voice still chalky and in desperate need of water.

"age? birthplace? mother's maiden name? any siblings? pets?" you list of questions as you slip the blades back into the fabric. these questions are the one regularly used when checking to be sure a patient's memory hasn't been impaired and their brains are screwed on correctly. if ellie can answer every single one without fail, she's perfect.

"woah woah," she says, "slow down."

"okay fine." you give in, rolling your fabric and slipping it into your medic coat pocket. you turn to her, shuffling close to her face as to be respectful. "what'd you eat for breakfast this morning?"

"mm, that's too easy." she smirks, though you can tell the action hurts her. her lips are split, causing the slightest quirk of her mouth to cause pain. despite this, she continues, likely unaware that you'd even noticed. "scrambled eggs, they were stale. master chief said they're all we had though, so i was smart enough t' not complain."

"smart girl." you chuckle. the blush that creeps to ellie's cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. but you say nothing, offhandedly deeming it to be all due to her wound-induced delirium.

"what'd you have?" she asks. "do medics get special treatment or what?"

you scoff, "oh i wish. unfortunately, i had the same shit as you, williams. master chief's stale eggs."

she laughs at this and you find yourself adoring the sound. the rest of the crew is talking and laughing with each other, a low hum of conversation filling the air. louder than that, the noisily whirring helicopter begins to lower to the ground, deafening in its boisterousness. despite all of that, ellie's laughter is what rings loudest in your ears. you ignore the full-body reaction and instead busy yourself with something else.

you stand from the floor, nodding toward the men seated opposite the helicopter from you and ellie. they notice your movement and instantly stand and jog over to you. there's five of them.

"when this thing lands, i want you five to haul her out of here." you demand, chin raised and shoulders set. the men nod, accepting their newly appointed roles. you're not done, though. "afterward, you'll bring her into the medical tent and lay her down on whichever cot i point out to you."

the men listen, not daring to argue with you. as someone who's worked for the military for three years now, you've managed to amass a rather impressive reputation for a medic. the higher ranked officers know you by name from your father and therefore respect your deeply. but it's not only your lineage that's got you to where you are. on top of your father's residual impact on your life, you're also the best medic this army has ever seen. they need you. due to this, the officers have driven it into the soldiers' minds that you're to be respected and listened to for fear that you'll leave if not. that's not true, of course, but you allow them to think it.

and when the time comes, the men hold their end of the deal. as soon as the helicopter lands against the grassy land of your militia base, the haul ellie's stretcher into the air and escort her off the machine and into the medical tent. you follow after them, hurrying in front of them when you get to the tent as to be there in order to point out which cot she's to be placed upon.

the tent is lined with wounded soldiers. most of them aren't freshly injured, instead in here to heal and recover from previously inflicted damage. some of them are mental while others are physical, calling for a colorful array of people packed into the tent.

"there," you say, gesturing toward the first empty cot you see. "lay her down gently, y' hear me?"

"yes ma'am." the reply in unison, placing her down onto the white sheets as softly as possible. then, they stand at ready for dismissal. when you're sure they hadn't somehow managed to injure ellie, you dismiss them and they're quick to rush out the tent and rejoin their crew.

ellie lies atop the cot, her severed leg looking shockingly well, all things considered. her breathing has evened out and her hands no longer yearn to grip the nearest thing to her. progress, you'd say.

"when dinner is served, i'll be sure to bring you a tray." you tell her, pulling your cloth from your coat and unraveling it over a nearby cart of medical supply. ellie's eyes are on you again. in the way that sends sparks through your nerves and hammering through your heart. you hate it. but you also think you'll live the rest of your life chasing this very feeling that ellie gives you. whatever that may be.

"y' don't have to." she mumbles, voice quiet and graveling with exhaustion. her eyelids are weighed with her being tired. you frown, wiping your tools clean as you look at her from over the cart.

"yes i do." you insist. "it's the least you deserve."

her brow knits at this, threaded with confusion. "wha'd'you mean?"

"you're a war soldier, williams." you tell her, finishing your tool tending and crossing your arms over your chest. "you and your crew put your life in danger every fucking day. the least i could do is get you a tray of damn food."

"y' say that like y' don't spend your life tendin' t' us." she slurs. "y' don't owe me anythin'."

"i watch you guys, y'know." you tell her. "when the medical work runs low and i run out of shit to do, i sit outside and watch the soldiers train. and let me tell you, just watching what you're put through is enough to never make me want to go anywhere near your job. you're forced to work through harsh weather and grave situations."

her eyes are pinned to you as you speak. and, for some reason, her gaze has a certain weight to it that makes you want to simultaneously cower from her and run at her. it's driving you mad. but you can't look away, your eyes staying trained on hers as you continue.

"all the while, i sit in some tent and stitch people up all day." you say. "so let me at least bring you some fucking dinner. and don't you dare tell me no, williams, because i won't listen."

she blinks, "now i see why y' scare the shit outta everyone."

"are you saying that you're scared of me?" you narrow your eyes at her, rounding the cart to approach her cot with a raised brow.

"i'd be a damn fool not t' be." she chuckles, shocking you both as she manages to not cough this time. "dunno how y' did it, but everyone know better than t' fuck with you."

"perfect." you grin at this. though, when you see the look on ellie's face, you shoot her a deep scowl. "don't you go ruining my reputation now, williams. when you leave this place, you better tell everyone i was a complete bitch to you."

"yes ma'am." she agrees with a wide smile. your heart nearly melts at the sight of it.

ellie looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, her eyes darting between each of yours as she continues to smile ever so slightly. in her gaze, you're literally perfect. a painting made by someone who'd experienced nothing but beauty and love in their life. and her delirium only adds onto this, making you out to be even more alluring and angelic than before.

i mean, who could blame her? she'd been dying in the sand, writhing and screaming. and suddenly, the most beautiful woman she'd ever laid her eyes on is walking onto the scene and taking the world by storm, voice strong and gaze even stronger. she was incapable of looking away the entire time you tended to her.

"oh!" you suddenly burst out, mind reminding her of something. you turn away from her to grab something and she instantly wants to force you to turn back toward her. you turn back around a moment later, orange bottle of pills in your hand. "want any painkillers?"

her eyes instantly light up, "please."

"don't sound so desperate now, williams." you tease, unscrewing the lid and pouring two of them into the palm of your hand. you pass them to her and she downs them instantly, no water needed. you smile, "not only will they lessen the pain, but they'll help you to fall asleep too. i know personally how hard it is to rest knowing that half your leg is missing, so.."

her gaze trail down your body, taking in your complete limbs. though, she ought to admit she allowed her eyes to wander a bit, taking in the curves and dips of your body as she imagines what it'd be like to memorize each feature with her mouth.

she looks back up at your face as though she weren't just imagining the most filthy things about you. "doesn't seem like you'd know personally. y' have all your legs."

"well, not personally, i suppose." you agree, waving a dismissive hand at her comment. "my father was missing an arm, a few fingers, and most of his ear. so i know more closely than most, but you're right it's not exactly personal."

"your father was in the military, right?" she questions, eyes drooping as the pills begin to kick in. "super high rank. i've heard his name 'round."

"yep," you nod pridefully.

"that's—" she blinks harshly, sleep wrapping its hands around her as it beckons her to give in to its taunting. "that's so awesome."

"do you even remember what we were talking about?" you laugh.

she sighs heavily, thinking hard. "uhh,"

"it's fine," you assure her, watching her with a fond smile. "go to sleep, now. you've deserved it."

"mm," she hums, seeming to be incapable of processing your words. she then reaches a hand toward you, fingertips brushing the coat of your white jacket stained with her blood. "wanna do me a favor?"

you raise a brow, "what type of favor?"

"t' help m' sleep." she murmurs. you take a step closer, barely able to hear her. a small smile tugs her lips at your proximity. "kiss me."

your eyes widen, "i can't—"

"pleaseee." she begs, voice rough with sleep.

"i'd feel guilty the rest of my life, williams." you struggle to explain. "you're in pain and on a heavy drug. plus, we've just met and i've never seen you without some sort of delirium effecting you. i can't kiss you or i'll feel like i took advantage of you."

"but 'm asking." she continues to plead with you, pale green eyes looking up at you through droopy eyes and filthy hair.

she looks so fucking perfect like this, her features rested and vulnerable. something about the sight of her feels intimate. you'd seen her before, of course. she's ellie williams. she's an absolute monster on the field. she's not super high ranking seeing as she's only been in for a year and a half, but she's well respected and liked among the men.

before this, you'd only ever seen her wrestling with big buff men and scaling walls in her uniform. but right now, she's anything but the woman you'd previously deemed her to be. and, oddly, you think you might like this better. like you're seeing as side of her that nobody else is allowed to see. like a secret.

"how about this," you say.

you then lean forward and press your lips to her forehead. she shuts her eyes, relaxing against the feel of the kiss. she hums lowly, shoulders drooping into the pillow. you pull back and her eyes remain closed. as though she's trying desperately to draw the moment out for as long as possible.

"that way," you tell her, "you get your kiss and i don't feel guilty about it."

"smart girl," she hums, mimicking the very words you'd said to her earlier. you smile, though she doesn't see her as her eyes remain closed. when she opens them, they're bloodshot from pure fatigue. "when 'm all better, will y' kiss me? like, a forreal kiss?"

you laugh, shaking your head fondly, "sure, ellie. why not?"

the sound of her name on your tongue and the promise of a possible future kiss is enough for her. she shuts her eyes and burrows deep into the pillow. the pain in her amputated leg remains long forgotten as her mind is far more interested in the memory of your smile and the sound of your voice, dreams full of naught but you all night long.

a kiss from an angel.

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[intoanotherworld23]

Sweet As Peach Cobbler

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Tyler, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

Summary: Tyler loves his desserts, and you just happen to be his favorite

A/N: Hey y’all it’s been quite a while since I’ve posted anything on here, but I’ve just been going through some personal stuff, and needed some time to myself. I am back though and ready now more than ever to keep writing for you guys! I wanted to dabble in writing for someone new, and since Glen Powell has become so popular I knew I had to write some things for him! Let me know if I should write some more for him, and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Don’t forget to comment and reblog it would be greatly appreciated! Love you guys thanks so much for being amazing! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Tyler. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

"I've never seen you cum so much sweetheart." Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. "You did so good for me baby."

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn't want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

"Let me see those pretty eyes of yours." His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

"Tyler." Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

"Whadda you need pretty girl?" He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Tyler knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

"Fuck me baby girl look at you." Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That's exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

"Oh god." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Tyler looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Tyler could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

"Tastes like peach cobbler baby girl." His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Tyler’s favorite dessert was in fact peach cobbler, and the fact he said you tasted like it made your head spin. It would make sense since he could never get enough of you.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Tyler, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

"Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn't I?" His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Tyler already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

"So proud of you my sweet peach." His nickname had you smiling as Tyler pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. "Oh I’m not done with you yet sweets."

[nakylvr]

TOO LATE

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: after breaking up with dani a few weeks ago, she repeatedly tries to get in contact with you. ultimately, you end up doing multiple things you thought you would never do

warnings/tags: angst, language, dealer!dani au, happy ending (yay!), nsfw content, more probably im sorry

wc: 4,9 k

part 1 | too late (alternate ending)

minors dni

a gentle reminder that everything i post is fiction. none of this depicts the real people in what i write, this is all for fun. and i took what a few different anons suggested into consideration for both this ending and the alternate ending :]

it had been a few weeks since the incident with dani. you hadn't gone back to the apartment since then, despite all your things being there. you knew she would be there no matter what time of the day you went, that was one of the benefits of being a dealer as a job, you didn't really have a job.

you stayed with sophia for the time being, who was the one who initially brought the possibility of dani cheating on you. you felt bad the longer you stayed at her place, but she kept telling you that it was fine, that that's what best friends do for each other.

it was obvious you weren't feeling okay after it all went down. you would mainly stare at nothing or your phone lockscreen that you had yet to change. you didn't really leave unless sophia dragged you out to go somewhere. you couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks.

“we should go get your stuff today,”

you glance over at sophia who's cooking from your seat on the stool at the kitchen island, eyebrows raising in surprise. “what?”

“well, you still haven't stopped by the apartment,” she says, hearing the shock in your voice and continuing. “i know you don't want to but you have to if you really want to officiate it as a breakup. you need your things.” she says slowly, choosing her words carefully to not upset you.

you look back down at the kitchen island, mumbling in response. “i guess.”

sophia lets out a short sigh, turning off the stove and walking over to you. she reaches for your hands, grabbing ahold of them causing you to look up at her. “i know it's hard, yn. but you can't just not have your stuff. i know what you're thinking, that she's more likely going to be there than not, but i’ll go with you, okay?” she says softly, her thumb gently rubbing circles on your hands. “and then, i want you to do something.”

you can hear her tone change at her last sentence, and you look at her confused. “what do you mean?”

“i’ll tell you after we get your things.”

within the hour, you were standing outside the apartment with sophia next to you. it was roughly ten in the morning, and you held the key in your shaking hand, hesitating to unlock the door.

“soph i don't think this is a good idea,” you say, lowering your hand. “i don't want another argument right now.”

“it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine,” sophia responds, sending a warm smile your way and squeezing your other hand reassuringly.

meekly nodding your head, you slowly unlock the door and walk inside. instantly, you're hit with the smell of smoke, making your eyes squint slightly trying to adjust to the hazy fog-like atmosphere in the apartment. great.

“is it always like this?” sophia mumbles quietly.

all you do is shake your head in response, walking into the living room and seeing the mess scattered on the coffee table. your first instinct is to clean it up and scold dani for making a mess on the expensive table, but the second you reach your hand out, sophia grabs it and pulls you back.

“we're here to get your things, that's it,” she tells you again.

“right,” you say quietly.

you make your way to the bedroom door, quietly opening the door and immediately freezing in your spot. you knew she would be here, that was obvious. but the sight of her is what stopped you.

she was sleeping, probably for the first time since it happened judging by the dark bags under her eyes that clearly weren't there before. looking at sophia, you take the duffel bag from her. “you can wait outside, i’ll be fine,” you say to her. she gives you a look, but nods her head and walks out of the apartment, leaving you in the room. you take a few steps into the room, and dani starts stirring around, rolling over and groggily opening her eyes. “yn?” she mumbles softly, half awake barely able to make out your face.

“go back to sleep, dani,” you say quietly, pulling the blanket over her. your eyes linger on her for a moment, watching her eyes close again as she mumbles something.

you go to the closet and open it, starting to grab your clothes and putting them in the bag. when you finish with your clothes, you head into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror. nothing had been moved since you left. everything was beside each other like it had always been, even the toothbrushes that were sitting in their stands. you don't even hear footsteps approaching as you stare mindlessly, feeling regret bubbling up inside you as your brain goes through everything that happened.

suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you jump, turning around to see a tired daniela.

“you're really here?” she mumbles quietly.

“dani-” you start, but you're cut off by her gently pushing you against the sink and putting her face in the crook of your neck.

“‘m sorry,” she mutters into your skin. “‘m so sorry, please don't leave. please, yn,”

“dani,” you try to say as sternly as you can. “we aren't discussing this.”

dani pulls her head from your neck, looking down at you as her hands move up to cup your face. “please,” she whispers. “please,” she reiterates, leaning closer to you, her lips inches away from yours. “just give me a chance.”

your eyes meet her red bloodshot ones staring back at you, and you feel your throat close up. you can tell how upset she is and her genuinely being sorry, and it has you wanting to forgive her. but, she hasn't nearly felt like you did the past few months, which has been implemented into your mind by sophia who had seen you almost every day throughout it. “you know i can't do that,” your voice is quiet as you speak.

“i love you,” her voice cracks as her hands cradle your face. “wh-what do you want me to do? i’ll do anything you want, please.”

“there's nothing you can do right now,” you answer, though you’re not sure you believe yourself. “please just-”

you're cut off by daniela pressing her lips against yours. its the softest she's ever kissed you, as if she was worried you would break under her touch. you can practically feel the regret seeping from her as she kisses you, pouring all her heart and emotion into it. your hands grasp her shoulders and pry her away from you, looking at her. “dani, you have to let me leave. sophia is waiting outside and she's pissed off enough as is, i don't want her to start an argument with you,” you tell her.

“sophia?” dani’s face contorts into confusion. “you-you're not- are you?” she can't even get the words out, the thought making her want to throw up. it was obvious for a while now that the filipino girl had feelings for you, though you were either too blind to notice or just ignored it. but, what happened in the past couple of weeks?

“it doesn't matter, daniela,” you shake your head, gently pushing her away from you. “it should be nothing new for you, right?” you turn around and start grabbing your things, putting them in the bag.

the comment you make has dani looking down at the ground, knowing better than to try and counter it like she normally would. “i’m sorry,” she says.

“you can apologize as many times as you want, but it's not going to do anything,” you zip up the bag and turn back around to face her. “you can-” you stop yourself from continuing, shaking your head and walking past her out the bathroom.

“yn, please,” she follows every step you take towards the front door. “please just give me five minutes to talk to you, please.”

“i’m sorry, dani,” you say once reaching the door, pulling it open and walking out. you close the door behind you, half expecting her to follow you outside as well, but even after standing there for a minute, the door doesn't open.

you walk back to the car where sophia is waiting, and she stands up straight when she sees your expression.

“what happened?” she instantly questions.

“nothing,” you shake your head, putting the bag in the backseat and looking at sophia. “i just want to go back. i don't think i’ll last another minute here.”

“okay,” sophia nods, opening the passenger door and letting you get in before closing it.

…

“you want me to do what?” you stare at sophia with wide eyes. “i’m-i’m not doing that!” you shake your head quickly.

“yn, listen to me,” sophia says in a stern voice. “you know this is for the best.”

“no!” you continue to shake your head, standing up off the couch. “i am not calling the police on her! she's dealt with enough shit these past weeks.”

“and you’ve dealt with far more in the last months,” sophia says, standing when you do.

“i’m still not doing it!” you exclaim. “why-why would you even bring that up?”

“because we both know she should've been gone a while ago,” sophia answers.

“no, you think she should be gone!” you retort. “i know you’ve never liked her, but that does not mean you are going to convince me to call the cops! i-”

“still love her, i know,” sophia’s tone shifts slightly, but enough for you to notice. “you need to get over it.”

“get over it?!” you look at her like she's crazy. “this is two years of my life that have been wasted, sophia! i can't just ‘get over it’ like it's nothing! for two years i have loved her and now it's all gone! do you understand? i can't just get over it within a few weeks,” you fail to ignore the way she's taking steps towards you, too busy ranting angrily until she stops in front of you and tilts your head up to look at her with one hand.

“i’m sorry,” she says softly. “you know i care about you, i just don't want you to get more hurt than you already are,” she pushes some of your hair out of your face.

you can see the way her eyes flicker down and back up to your eyes, and you freeze in realization. “soph-”

“give me one week and i can prove you can get over her,” she cuts you off with this, her voice quiet.

she's serious, you can tell, which only makes you more nervous as you try to think of a response. part of you thinks you shouldn't do it, but a bigger part of you doesn't care.

“okay.”

…

you can't believe you're doing this. another week has passed, and somehow sophia has managed to convince you to get the police involved. you rub your temples as you sit in your car in front of the apartment, mentally praying this doesn't blow up in your face. it’s supposed to be easy, barely an inconvenience according to sophia. just go inside, see if dani is there, make a quick text and it's done. taking a deep breath, you get out of the car and walk up to the front door.

you knock on the door a few times, despite still having the key and could just walk up inside the place. you stand there for a minute or two, and you’re about to turn around and give up when the door unlocks and opens, there standing daniela.

“yn,” dani lets out in a single breath. to say she didn't expect you would be an understatement, for she thought you would be gone after the last time.

“can i come in?” you ask hesitantly.

“yeah, yeah,” she nods quickly, opening the door wider for you to walk in.

as soon as you walk in, you’re hit with an unfamiliar smell. lavender? odd. you raise an eyebrow as you step into the living room, seeing the place cleaned up since the last time you were there. the coffee table was clean of the former ash marks on it, the ceiling fan no longer held fuzz due to the smoke, the kitchen looked the best it had in over a year. you couldn't hide your surprise as you looked around.

“you really cleaned up,” you say.

“i tried,” dani mumbles. “i-i knew that you wouldn't like the mess i left…if you came back,” her voice is so quiet you can hardly hear what she's saying, but you do.

she was hoping for you to come back. she wouldn't have cleaned the place otherwise. she was right too, you would be upset with the mess she made a week ago. you look at the walls and see the pictures are still up, and you feel a tug on your heart as you look over them. god, you were starting to feel bad now. but, you had a plan. hopefully it would work out.

“dani-”

“wait,” she cuts you off suddenly. “i have something to give you,” she says before walking off into the bedroom.

you take your phone out of your pocket and send the message, quickly putting it back away when dani walks back into the living room with a bag in her hands. you look at her with confusion as she hands it over to you. taking the bag, you open it and look inside, reaching in and pulling out a book. your confusion grows bigger until you open the first page, and you realize what it is. it's a scrapbook, poorly made which means she did it herself, of every picture you two took over the two years. “dani…” you say quietly.

“you don't have to say anything,” dani says, looking down at the ground. “i just wanted to make sure you got it before…y’know…you leave officially.” she mumbles the last bit.

closing the book, you set it and the bag down, taking a few steps towards her and grabbing her hands causing her to look at you. “i’m not leaving,” you whisper, seeing her eyes widen. “but you have to listen to me very carefully right now.” your voice turns serious, which has dani looking at you with confusion. “the police are on their way, but dani, you have to-”

“what?!” daniela lets out in surprise. “wh-what the hell do you mean?!”

“dani, just listen to me,” you grab her shoulders firmly. “you haven't moved the stash in the safe, have you?”

“n-no,” dani shakes her head, clearly starting to panic as the sound of sirens gets louder. “yn, i can-i can't go to jail-”

“you’ll be there for a few days max,” you tell her, cutting her off of the beginning of her rant. “i'll keep everything going for you, don't worry. i'll get you out as soon as the bail is posted, okay? you're gonna be fine, i promise.”

daniela keeps shaking her head, her body trembling as she tries to keep calm. “i can't do this, i can't-”

“yes you can,” you say, holding her face in your hands. “you're going to be okay, i promise,” you tell her again. “just don't say anything to anyone, don't look at anyone. you’ll be out as soon as possible, okay?”

“okay,” dani nods slowly.

“i love you, okay? i haven't stopped loving you for one day,” you say, pecking her lips as the front door bursts open. “don't do anything stupid. i’ll be waiting for you.”

you somehow manage to keep relatively calm as you watch the police take her out of the apartment, seeing the look in her eyes as the car door slams shut. once you get back into the apartment with your bag of things, you toss it onto the couch and quickly go into the bedroom closet.

pulling out the safe, you type in the passcode and it unlocks and opens, revealing the large sum of money you told dani to start saving just in case something like this happened. you take out the stacks of green bills, putting them on the bed and sitting down, starting to count it.

…

the bail ended up costing almost everything in the safe, which both surprised you and didn't at the same time. you knew l.a. was insane with their charges, so it wasn't that big of a surprise. the bigger surprise, and funnier one, was the look on the authorities' faces when you handed over the bag of all the cash, who all stared at you with wide eyes counting every dollar. you had to sit and wait for an hour or two while they counted, but eventually they finished and told you it was enough, and that it would take a few days to process.

just like you’d promised, within the week you were standing outside the gate of the jail, leaning against your car waiting. you’re looking at your phone when you hear a loud buzzing noise, making you look up. a smile immediately curls on your lips and you stand up straight, putting your phone away watching the officer open the gate.

you watch as daniela slowly walks over to you, holding her bag of things she had on her when they took her. your arms instantly wrap around her when she's close enough, pulling her into your embrace as she puts her face in your neck.

“are you okay?” you ask quietly, running your hand through her curly hair.

“yeah,” she mumbles into your neck. “‘m just tired. the beds are rock hard.”

“i’m sure,” you nod, not moving. “you wanna get something to eat and then head back home?”

‘home’, dani’s brain repeats that word multiple times hearing you say it so casually after the hell that’s been this last month. you’re talking to her like nothing happened, and she doesn't know how to feel about it. there's still an immense amount of guilt she feels even after you telling her you didn't stop loving her. she still regrets everything she stupidly did.

“yeah,” she answers quietly after a long minute of silence.

…

walking into the apartment, you toss your keys on the dining room table, running a hand through your hair and letting out a quiet sigh. just one step inside the place and you’ve felt more relaxed than you have been in the months leading up to this. dani sets the rest of the food on the table and walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pulling you close to her.

“i’m sorry,” she says in a murmur.

“dani, please don't-”

“listen to me, please,” she pleads before you can say anything else. “i…i know i fucked up, and i’m so sorry for everything i put you through. i can't say i know why i did it because i don't. all i c-can do now is apologize a-and apologize hoping you’ll s-stay. i’m r-really sorry, yn. i-i-” she starts stuttering over her words, tears welling in her eyes trying to keep herself from crying.

you turn around the second you hear her voice crack, seeing the tears brimming in her eyes and you cup her cheeks in your hands. “dani, breathe. it's okay, i’m not going anywhere. you don't have to worry, okay? i’m staying.”

“you are?” she asks, her voice cracking as a few tears fall from her eyes.

“yeah,” you nod your head, wiping the tears from her eyes with your thumbs. “i promise.”

as soon as those words leave your mouth, daniela is pressing her lips against you with so much energy you have to take a step back to try and steady yourself. her grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as you kiss back, your hands tangling in her hair. she bites on your lower lip gently, pushing her tongue inside when you part your lips for her, a little moan coming from you at the action. when she pulls away, she's looking at you with a dazed, dark look in her eyes.

she doesn't say anything as she picks you up by your thighs, a yelp of surprise leaving your mouth as she walks over to the bedroom. laying you down on the bed, she crawls on it above you, peering down at you as you stare up at her.

“dani,” you whimper as her hands grab the hem of your shirt.

“let me show you how sorry i am?” she says, but it comes out sounding like a question. she doesn't move her hands, waiting for your answer before she does anything else.

“please,” your voice comes out in a whisper as you nod.

with one swift motion, dani pulls your shirt up over your head, reaching around your back and unclasping the bra you were wearing, tossing it somewhere in the room. she lowers her head and takes one of your nipples in her mouth, gently biting and sucking on it as you let out a gasp. your hand grabs her head as she swirls her tongue around your bud, removing herself after a long moment with a pop. she moves over to your other breast, doing the same thing as her hand drags down your bare torso. she stops at the waistband of your shorts, pulling her face away from your chest and looking down at you, waiting for you to give her the okay.

you nod your head again, and she pulls down your shorts along with the panties you were wearing. seeing your dripping core has a low groan coming from daniela as she spreads your legs apart, bringing a hand down between your thighs and dragging her fingers along your folds.

“fuck, baby,” she breathes out when she pulls her fingers away. “tell me how you want me,” she says softly, looking down at you.

you're not sure how to respond. there were a few times where she would say this, but it felt different this time. you can see in her eyes that she's genuinely caring about what you want to do, not what she wants to do. you can hear in her voice that she’ll listen and do whatever you want her to do. your head is already spinning, and you manage to get out a response. “your…fingers, please,” your voice comes out more desperate than you expected, but you couldn't help it. this was the most attention she'd given you in months, you didn't care about how desperate you sounded, because you were desperate.

nodding her head, dani quickly pulls off her shirt and leans down, kissing you deeply. your hands trail down her toned body, finding the buttons on her jeans and undoing them. parting from the kiss, daniela pulls her jeans down off her legs and is immediately kissing you again.

“i love you,” she murmurs against your lips, bringing her hand between your thighs. her fingers quickly find your clit and start rubbing small, slow circles on it, causing a whimper to escape your throat which she takes as the opening to slide her tongue into your mouth.

your hands tangle in her hair as your hips buck against her hand for more, which she notices. knowing better than to tease you right now, she brings two fingers down to your entrance and plunges them inside which has you moaning into the kiss. pulling away to breathe, your head hits the pillow under you as she starts thrusting her fingers in you at a steady pace. “fuck…dani,” you moan out.

dani starts kissing from your jaw down to your neck, repeatedly muttering against your skin how much she loves you whether it be directly saying it or giving little praises. she bites down occasionally, leaving little marks that will surely be seen for the next few days, feeling you squirm underneath her every time she does it. “i love you s’ much, my beautiful girl. my pretty girl,” she mumbles softly into your skin.

your face heats up in a fiery blush hearing her praising words against your skin, your arms hooking around her neck to pull her closer to you. “ngh, dani…” you whine into her ear. “f-fuck, feels so ah so good,”

a quiet moan comes from daniela as you whine her name directly into her ear, biting down into your neck to leave another mark as she speeds up her fingers. “i know, baby. you’re so tight around my fingers, you gonna cum, babygirl? you wanna cum all over my fingers?”

“yes!” you gasp, your walls clenching around her fingers at her words. “please, dani– please make me cum, pleasepleaseplease,” you beg shamelessly, your nails digging into her shoulders with a tight grip as your hips rock against her hand.

“i got you, princesa. cum for me,” she murmurs into your neck, feeling your walls tighten around her fingers as she curls them inside you.

with a scream-like moan and your back arching, your eyes roll back and you swear you see stars pop up in your vision as you cum around her fingers. your body trembles with the aftershocks, and a little whimper escapes your mouth when daniela pulls her fingers out of you.

“yn?” daniela says softly, seeing the exhausted look on your face when you turn your head to look at her. “i love you,” she whispers, hesitantly as if she were saying it for the first time.

a tired smile forms on your face at her words, how genuine she sounds while saying it. “i love you too,” you reply.

“are you mad at me?” she mumbles quietly. she pushes some of your hair out of your face, her hand cupping your cheek as her thumb draws small circles on your soft skin.

it takes a moment for you to respond. you could sense the guilt spilling through from the latina looking down at you, and you determined how to answer. “i was,” you start. “you put me through a lot these past few months, you know?”

“i know.” daniela’s voice is barely able to be heard at this point, her eyes averting from yours while she starts to move her hand away from you.

you're quick to grab ahold of her hand before she completely pulls away, not wanting her to feel worse than she already is. “but…” you say, seeing her eyes flicker back to you. “the day i came to get my stuff i knew how sorry you were. in all the different things we’ve been through, i’ve never seen you like that. we’ve driven up the state in one night and your eyes didn't have those big of bags under them when we finally woke up in that shitty hotel you claimed would be great. we’ve gotten scammed by those losers in that casino who took almost everything we had and you didn't even panic or get upset because you said you still had me even though we lost thousands. shit, do you remember when we were at manon’s for her birthday and we got so drunk that you were crying thinking i was going to leave you for her?” a giggle escapes your lips which has dani subconsciously smiling at the sound of it as she finally looks at you fully.

“i remember everyone teasing me for it, yes,” she replies with a nod.

“that was the only time i ever saw you like that,” you continue. “then when i came by the second time and i saw how much you cleaned the place – when you said that you knew i wouldn't like the mess if i came back, i knew you were hoping for me to come back. i could tell. i know you know you fucked up. but you are really gonna have to work hard to keep me here, okay?” you tell her, giving her a look that tells her you're serious without saying it.

“okay,” she instantly says, nodding quickly. “i’ll do anything you want me to, i promise.”

you nod along to what she says. “you're going to change the passwords back to what they were, you're going to let me see your phone, and you're going to block that bitch you saw. are we clear?” you say seriously.

“yes,” daniela’s voice comes out in a whimper at the tone in your voice as she nods again. “i’m sorry.” she shifts around above you when you suddenly wrap your arms around her and flip over so she's on her back below you, her eyes wide as she peers up at you.

“i know, baby,” you say, slowly dragging your hand down her body. “which is why you’ll let me have my fun with you, right? show me just how sorry you are?”

daniela’s face turns red at your words, goosebumps forming along her skin as you drag your hand down to the waistband of her underwear. “yes,” she whimpers.

“good,” you smile at her, leaning down and kissing her.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Christmas memories ~ Tom Riddle x wife!reader (Drabble)

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x wife!reader

Summary: As you watch your child open her Christmas gifts, Tom reveals a memory from years ago.

Word count: 652

Warnings: mentions of a lonely childhood; English is not my first language

A/N: Haven't posted in a while, hope those who celebrate it had/are having a wonderful Christmas full of love and warmth! Sending lot of love and a big hug to those who are alone, or feel lonely despite being being wiith other people. I love you guys <3 To those who don't celebrate, hope y'all are doing well too! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: : @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

“Mummy, this is the biggest one!”

“It is, darling. Go ahead.”

You took a sip of your hot chocolate as you watched your five years-old daughter excitedly open her last gift - which was the biggest one under the Christmas tree - in your living room, which soon revealed to be an enchanted doll’s house. Your daughter let out a loud gasp, which made you smile, and as you turned to look at your husband, who was standing against a wall, you could see that, despite trying to hide it, he was smiling too. 

“This is the one I wanted!” your daughter exclaimed happily, looking at you both with a great, adorable smile.

“Santa just knows everything, doesn’t he!” 

You heard your husband chuckle. You put your cup on the table and got up from the couch. 

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s put all your new toys in your room, shall we?”

You grabbed your wand, agitated it, and a second later, all the toys your daughter unwrapped minutes ago started levitating in the air before going upstairs in her room.

“Can I go play with them, please?” your daughter asks.

“Sure thing, darling.”

“Yay!”

Your daughter ran upstairs, and you shook your head with fondness. 

“I’m glad she liked everything,” you turned to your husband.

“Well, ‘Santa’ just happened to always be on point when it comes to gifts.”

You smiled, but suddenly anxiety came into your body.

“But did you like yours?” you asked.

It was always tricky to get gifts for Tom, because he would say he didn’t “need” anything, and the only thing he liked was books - which he bought himself all year. But this year, you decided to take risks and offer him not only books, but also clothes - black or grey, obviously -, some material to take care of his wand, some expensive quills, and a black ring. As he opened every one of them, he commented on the quality of the gift or its appearance, and made sure to kiss you as he said “Thank you, darling.”. But despite being with Tom for several years and knowing him for even more, his feelings were sometimes still  a mystery to you. 

His gaze softened, and he approached you, taking your hand in his. 

“Of course, love. I know I’m not easy to give gifts to, but trust that I appreciate the thought, and I know and appreciate the effort you made to make sure I liked them.” He hesitated before continuing, “Actually, as our child opened her gifts, it made me remember the gift you gave me on Christmas during our first year.” 

 You raised your eyebrow in disbelief, and suddenly the image of a much smaller and younger version of Tom and you during your first year at Hogwarts came to you. You remembered the nervousness you had felt while giving him your gift, his confusion as he took it and opened it, and his unsure, quiet, yet somehow sincere “Thank you.”. You two didn’t know it back then, but it was the beginning of something that would only grow. 

“You remember it?” you asked. 

“Of course.” His dark eyes changed, revealing a deeper feeling, and he looked at the ground for a second. “I still have it, and still cherish it.” 

You smiled, “It wasn’t much, just something made by an eleven year old to a friend she cared about.”

“It was the first gift someone ever got me.”

You felt your heart break, just like every time you were reminded of Tom’s lonely, loveless childhood - and all the Christmas he had spent in that orphanage without warmth, love, and people who cared about him. 

“And it won’t be the last,” you smiled teasingly.

“I sure hope so.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, putting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his own arms around your shoulders.

“You’ll never be alone, you know that?”

“I know.”

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[the-kr8tor]

hihi katy! ₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ saw your post and honestly, you're not the only one obsessing over our boy savior, especially after that tragic ending for him in S2. (ꎿຶ꒫ꎿຶ) i'd like to make a request for him cus he really deserves to be happy and taken care of (৹˃ᗝ˂৹),,, could you write a lil summat about treating his wounds or maybe helping him change, helping him fall asleep, babying him, etc. pretty please? ʚ♡ɞ only if you want to! i hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!! ♡

- 🐋.

Hello!!! Thank you for the lovely request! I had too much fun with it lol

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW injuries, CW blood, lovestruck! Ekko, CW needles, CW suggestive, no spoilers for s2, a bit of hurt/comfort, fluff!

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Ekko retells the whole ordeal that just transpired a few minutes ago, which was exactly thirty three minutes ago. You counted the time with bated breath, and you've been keeping time since he skidded off his hoverboard and straight into a wall after Smeech shot his board midair. Your eyes keep darting off to the dried blood on his temple, iron and crimson marring his handsome face. And worrying you with every second that ticks by. Even though he got out of it in one piece, your heart still aches at the sight of the various gashes and bruises dotted along his skin.

A hundred scenes flit over your mind, things that you could've done to prevent his fall. You would have jumped off and caught him before he hit the hard wall, or the end of your gun would have met Smeech’s head before he even shot his own. Your breathing quickens, and the harsh bulbs of the hideout's meeting room doesn't help the headache blooming in your skull.

He notices your heavy gaze, brown eyes glancing at you whilst he continues to debrief his fellow firelights. He's still the pinnacle of a leader despite his injuries. Your eyes are starting to get glossy, brows furrowed in thinking. So as he finishes off the meeting in record time and sends off the others to do a sweep around the area yo make sure no one followed the group, he's on you immediately the second the door closes.

“Hey.” Ekko's voice is soft, gloved hand grazing your chin as he moves your head gently to face him. “Look at me, breathe.”

Your eyes meet his own, hands flying to grasp at his wrists to anchor yourself to him. “Are you okay?” You finally feel your lungs relaxing as he holds you.

He smiles, cracking the dried crimson on his cheek. “I'm good, still breathing.” Grabing the back of your chair, he scoots you over to his seat, effectively placing you in between his legs, knees knocking against your own in greeting.

Shaking your head, your hand hovers above his wound. “Does it hurt? You hit the ground— I heard it then when I went to look and I—”

Ekko leans against your hand to ease you. “It doesn't hurt much anymore, see? I won't be able to do this if it still hurts.”

Sniffing, your shoulders slump as you place your head atop his chest, careful of his hidden injuries. “Let me take care of you, please.” Your voice is muffled by his bandana, feeling his hand trace the line on your spine to soothe you more. “I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Who said?” He jokes, lips pecking the crown of your head.

You lean away, staring at him through your lashes as you frown. “I did.”

Chuckling, he cups your face, squeezing you once until you're smiling softly at him. “Okay, just go easy on me, firefly.”

—

You made a list for yourself to follow. After drawing him a bath, which he rarely takes because of his busy schedule, he cleans off the day's activities whilst you ready everything you need to tend to his wounds.

“You're not joining in?” Ekko asks in the tub, face scrunched against the wooden surface as steam rises up from the water. His hair is loose, twists falling over his playful eyes. “Water's warm.”

“Not this time, Ekko.” You say as you thread a needle. “I need to bandage your wound, and you know that the second I'm in there with you we won't get anything done.”

He scrunches his face, blowing raspberries in the air. “Foiled again. You're no fun.” The water overflows as he submerges himself down in the tub.

“Having an open head wound is no fun, Ekko.” Walking closer to the tub, he sees you above the water, eyebrow raised and voice garbled. “Didn't I tell you not to wet your head? I'm sure I double checked that you don't have a concussion.”

He blows air bubbles at you, hands reaching up so you can pull him out. Rising above, he wipes the water off his face. “Joining in won't hurt.”

You kneel down to level with him, arms placed on the edge of the tub and face resting atop it as you flutter your lashes at him. “If you let me take care of you for once then I'll jump in.”

His hands subtly snake over to your elbows, and you quickly know what he's up to. “Why not now—”

“Not now, tomorrow. I promise.” You kiss his wet lips chastely before standing up and giving him a hand. “Come on, bossman, don't be incorrigible.”

Sighing, Ekko surrenders to you. “Big word.” He says as he heaves himself up off the tub. Water dripping down his sculpted torso.

With a roll of your eyes, you take your hand away and toss him a towel. “Hide your bits, Ekko.” Laughing, the towel hits him right on his face.

“You like these bits though.” After he tucks the towel against his waist, he immediately grabs you by your waist, rubbing his wet face and hair against your own. He's happy to be back in your arms when he was this close to not going home.

“Ekko!” Your giggles bounce off the bathroom, and his guffaw is muffled by the side of your neck.

—

He acts tough in front of you as he sits in between your legs backwards. The way that he grips at your thighs says otherwise as the needle pierces his skin. Hissing, his fingers dig into your pants, eyes closed as he stiffens from the suture.

“Almost done, I promise.” Snipping off the thread, you clean the wound with an antiseptic and then closing it with gauze and medical tape. The firelights don't joke around with medical supplies.

You still remember the time he first tended to your wounds. And how much of a baby you were with the needle.

“Barely noticeable, I think I did okay.” You hold up a mirror for him, but he ignores it as he twists around, chest in full display as cups your cheeks. “I'd take a simple thank you, but a kiss is so much better.”

Ekko smiles gently, eyes crinkling at the corners before sighing deeply. “I'm alright, firefly.”

You look at him with all the love in the world. “I know, Ekko.” Wiping a stray water droplet away from his clavicle, you sniff and the scent of your soap that he used wafts over your nose, making you smile. “You're here, and I'm here. We're okay.” Nodding, you reassure him.

His thumb brushes along under your eye before leaning in to kiss you like it's the first time. Eyes closed, a single tear escapes from him as you cradle him in your arms, hands holding him in place and anchoring him to you.

Reluctantly pulling away, he pauses for a second before pecking each of your cheeks, then your forehead and whole face until you're giggling in his arms and with himself chuckling with every kiss.

Your hands run along his arms, feeling the muscles stretch underneath and the goosebumps that are left in your wake. “Aren't you cold?” You say in between his kisses.

Ekko pauses from attacking your face, and smiles fondly at you. He shakes his head, nose scrunched up. “No.”

“You sure?” You poke his chest, feeling how cool his skin has become since getting out of the bath. He shivers against your cold finger. You raise a teasing eyebrow at him as he sighs.

“...fine.”

“Arms raised up, bossman.” Patting his bicep, you grab a clean shirt you've prepared for him right next to you on the bed. When you turn back towards him, surprisingly, he has his arms raised up and waiting.

You unabashedly roam your eyes over the muscles of his chest. Effectively ogling him as he smirks at you.

“Shirt off then?” Ekko drops his hands down to his lap, head tilting as your eyes meet with his own. Finding that they have the same glint in them like your own.

“No shirt.” You say, tossing the shirt away before finding yourself pushed down on the soft mattress.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival. 

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you? 

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you. 

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you. 

“Smells good,” Sy startles you. 

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack. 

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?” 

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day. 

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers. 

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom. 

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar. 

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it. 

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard. 

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?” 

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying. 

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.” 

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time. 

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable. 

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly. 

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short. 

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?” 

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.” 

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles. 

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.” 

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal. 

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.” 

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?” 

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?” 

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.” 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--” 

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?” 

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?” 

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.” 

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise. 

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--” 

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.” 

“Don,” Sy grits. 

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.” 

“I’m not,” Sy insists. 

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.” 

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.” 

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls. 

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--” 

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--” 

“Don’t--” 

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--” 

“Don, you have some respect for her--” 

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.” 

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves. 

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs. 

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--” 

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--” 

“Stop.” 

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--” 

“You don’t treat her right--” 

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.” 

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.” 

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--” 

“I been nice, Don--” 

“Boo fucking h--” 

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.  

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be. 

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.  

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls. 

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there? 

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean? 

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.  

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove. 

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing? 

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash. 

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you. 

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.  

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop. 

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...” 

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously. 

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene. 

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly. 

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick. 

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.  

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers. 

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.”