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writing-fanics · 2 months

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Nothing lasts forever

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]

‘More than anything music box’

As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.

Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.

But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?

Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?

He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.

But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.

“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.

Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.

You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?

“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.

But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.

You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.

You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”

"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.

You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.

You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.

You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..

You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.

You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.

As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.

As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.

You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.

You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.

As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.

Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.

As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.

You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.

A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]

Taglist

@froggybich

#lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucfier x reader #x reader #fanfic #angst #romance #headcanons #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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femoso-seben · 3 months

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Mini witch story part one

Part 1, Part 3,

Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.

“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.

“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.

“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.

As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.

“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”

“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.

“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”

“How?”

“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”

“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.

“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.

“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”

The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.

“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.

Slime.

“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”

From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.

“Give me a cat!”

“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.

“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.

“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”

“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.

It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.

“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.

“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.

“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.

Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.

Your Sire and sister left you with these things.

It kept trying to climb up your leg.

You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.

“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.

How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.

Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.

It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.

“Let go!”

“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.

“Transform!”

“NEIN!” He said again.

“I am your master!”

“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.

You wanted to strangle this man.

You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.

You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.

The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.

You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.

This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------

@milkywayhou full verson

taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #konig x you #konig x reader #konig cod #konig #octo!könig #octopus! konig

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jasmines-library · 4 months

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Hi love <3!

I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.

Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.

(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)

Heal

Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.

Word count: 1.7k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Robin!”

The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.

“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground.

Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.

Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.

You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could.

Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them.

They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines.

Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.

“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.

“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer.

“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.”

God damn you, Grayson.

“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”

He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.

You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys.

The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face.

You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.

“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks.

“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal.

“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”

“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason.

The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”

You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”

“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”

“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head.

“... it’s just a coincidence.”

“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck.

You bit your lip in the silence of the room.

“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”

Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”

You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”

Damian stared at you agape “But…”

“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”

Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock.

“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin.

“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect.

“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”

“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”

“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.

“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”

The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.

“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”

There was a nod of agreement.

“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”

“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.

“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”

🦇 Batfam Taglist:

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@aestheticdaisies

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southerngothicchic · 6 months

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18+

Steve's always had a bit of an ego, especially during sex. He wants to hear just how good he's making his girl feel. He's used to being with vocal partners, so when you and him had sex, for the first time, he was taken aback by how quiet you were. He was so used to girls moaning in his ear, their nails clawing his back, only to have you barely making a sound.

He didn't want to say anything, at first, because he wanted you to feel comfortable with him. After the next few times, though, he couldn't help himself. Old insecurities plagued him, making him think you weren't that into him. That thought crushed him, as you were the first girl in forever that he's actually felt something for.

"How's it feel, angel?" He breathily asks, as he slowly fucks you.

You didn't respond, at first, biting your lip at his question.

"C'mon honey, I need to know if you're ok," he adds, gazing down at you.

"I am," you finally reply.

"I can stop if you want..."

"No, please don't," you plead. "I'm sorry, I'm just not-"

"Hey," he softly interrupts, his hand cradling your face. "You don't need to apologize for anything. I just wanna hear those pretty sounds you make just for me."

You smile up at him, before he leans in to kiss you.

"Will you let me hear you, angel?" He asks, against your lips.

You nod, still timid, unsure if you'll be able to do what he wants.

He presses his lips to yours once more and kisses you slowly. You feel yourself melting into him, or rather him melting into you.

He starts moving his hips again, but doesn't break the kiss. You whimper into it as his thrusts are faster now.

"That's it honey," he praises, pulling away so he can hear you.

"S-Steve..." you gasp, your hands moving from his hair, to his shoulders.

"Feeling good?"

You nod, then force yourself to say, "Yes..."

"Yeah? What if I fuck you nice and hard?" He breathlessly asks, his hair flopping onto his sweaty forehead.

You moan in response, making him smirk.

"Still good, honey?"

"Yes, God..." you breathe, closing your eyes and throwing your head back against the pillow.

"You feel so fuckin good, so wet...always so wet for me," he pants, while you bite your lip.

The sounds of his grunts and moans fill the room as he chases his release. Little whimpers escape your lips, but you're not being as loud as he wants.

"If I don't hear you honey, I'm gonna pull out..." he breathily threatens. "Is that what you want?"

"No, no, Steve, please..." you beg, your hands gripping his biceps.

"Then I wanna hear you scream for me," he breathes, before kissing you roughly.

You moan into it, your nails digging into his skin, as he fucks you. He pulls away, his focus turning to your neck. You cry his name when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

"That's better," he praises, against your damp skin.

With the way his hips are snapping against yours and how deep he was with every harsh thrust, you finally gave him what he craved.

His name pours from your lips, throat almost sore from how you scream for him.

"Oh, honey...fuck," he rasps, burying his face in your neck.

You repeatedly sigh his name, making him growl in approval.

He then moans your name into your skin as he's finally sent over the edge. His climax leads to yours, as you're crying for him, all over again.

Once you each regain yourselves, he presses kisses all over your face, praising you for being his pretty, perfect girl.

"You did so good for me, angel," he smiles, his nose brushing yours.

You also smile, your cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson from his praise.

"You always wanna be my good, little angel, don't you?"

"I do," you eagerly answer, gazing into his eyes.

"That's my girl," he grins, before kissing you deeply.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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thefearedashantis · 3 months

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Garlic Toast and Bloody Noses

Pairing: Sirius Black x SAHM! Reader (stay at home mom)

Summary: Your eldest daughter got in trouble at school and Sirius is livid.

Word count: 3.1K

Warning: None (if you think it needs one lmk)

Emmerson is cranky, per usual. You weren’t sure how long a two-year-old could cry before tiring themselves out, but he was surely going for the record.

Nothing you did soothed him. Rocking, singing, a stroll around the block. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to sleep. The reasoning for his upset was simple enough. One you’d figured out shortly after he was born.

He hated you. Detested. Loathed. Abhorred. As much as the very idea broke your heart.

From the moment he took his first breathe he despised your very presence. Would absolutely scream his little head off until Sirius, or anyone really, rescued him from your grasp. Only then from the comfort of his fathers’ arms would he calm, then turn back to stare at you accusingly with watery eyes.

Well, his father wasn’t home at the moment, and you stare at the clock praying for the minutes to go by quicker. School and extracurricular activities having ended, Sirius and your other two children should be walking through the front door any second.

Your husband would enter your home silently, tuckered out from a long day. He’d take off his shoes and hang up his coat. Round the couch and lean down to peck you gently at the corner of your lips before prying your son from your arms. Wrestling his fat hands loose of your hair which he never failed to get an ironclad grip on. Then you’d stow away in the bathroom for a few quiet minutes after saying hello to your girls. Just to give yourself a little pep talk and allow the headache pulsing behind your eyes to recede. Give yourself some much-needed reassurance that this behaviour couldn’t last forever. At some point he’d warm up to you.

He had to, right?

You’re wretched from your thoughts at the slam of the front door. Followed by a gust of air whisking by you where you were slumped in the living room, thunderous footsteps banging up the stairs. Another door slams in the distance.

From the brief glimpse at the back of a muddy soccer uniform you know it must be Amelia, and that fact has you up on your feet in a panic. Because just as your youngest scorned your existence your eldest adored you. If she wasn’t at school she was virtually glued to your hip. She would never come home without stopping to throw herself at you like you’d been apart for an eternity.

Something was wrong.

You’ve barely placed Emmy into his playpen, a rigorous tussle, and taken a step into the hall when a small body crashes into your middle. Your kindergartner. Backpack, coat and shoes still on.

“Mom!”

“Claire!” you try to match her enthusiasm.

“I’m hungry” she mumbles against your stomach, arms squeezing you tight.

“I made your favourite snack. It’s on the counter for you.”

Sirius appears in the archway just as Claire scurries away. He’s in a flurry, making long strides in the direction of the stairs without so much as acknowledging you. “You get back down here right now young lady!” His voice all but shakes the house, sending your heart scuttling into your throat. Sirius never raises his voice, especially not when angry. Sirius was hardly ever angry to begin with.

Your hand shoots out to grab at him before he can get too far, pulling him to a harsh stop. “Whoa, whoa whoa! What’s going on?”

“Lia got in a fight at school!” Claire calls from the kitchen.

And he’s teetering on you, trying to get you to let him go.

“What? Why didn’t you call me? What’s happened, is she alright?”

“I’d say she’s doing better than Isaac!” Now he’s moving, circling to the other end of the room, dragging you along with him. “I mean parents trust me to look after and teach their children! How does it seem when I can’t even discipline my own? She’s old enough to know not to hit others!”

Sirius was the music teacher at the local elementary school. The one both of your daughters attended. That being the case he usually handled anything pertaining to the girls while on the premises. Didn’t mean you were out of the loop however. If one got so much as a scratch on the playground you were sent a text about it. For the entire day to have elapsed without him informing you on what had happened was odd.

“Sirius” you release his arm in favour of his face, rubbing at the space between his nape and ear in a manner you knew he found soothing “Honey, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

But your attempts to pacify him prove worthless when his roaming eyes finally snap to yours with a steely coldness that has a chill running up your spine. You see none of the sticky affection you’re accustomed to within them. Nothing but distaste. There was no questioning Emmy’ parentage with that gaze.

“I told you the haircut wasn’t a good idea.”

Haircut? Was he still upset about that all these weeks later?

“What’s her hair have to do with anything?”

His eyes roll so hard you fear they’ll be lost in the back of his head. He shakes out of your hold. “Because you undermine me with every little thing when it comes to her! I try to put my foot down and you immediately slag it off!”

“It’s her hair Sirius. She wanted it short and you couldn’t give a good enough reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to have it that way.”

Emmy has finally gone quiet in his play pen. Standing and peeking over the edges at the two of you, gaze flitting back and forth like a ping pong ball whenever someone speaks. Probably wondering why his beloved father hasn’t come to pick him up yet.

“Because she looks like a boy!” Sirius throws his hands up, looking to the sky for some sort of backup he would not be receiving. “She already dresses like a boy, you’ve let her chop all her hair off and now she’s running around getting into trouble like some little delinquent!” With every word his face gets more and more red, voice trembling with raging effort.

You can’t seem to find anything to say for a long moment, just watching him breathe in and out in desperate rags. A minute passes, then two. When he manages to catch his breath and stumble over to the couch you follow closely behind. Leaning down near his ear so you won’t have to speak above a whisper.

“First of all Black, I don’t know who you’re speaking to in that tone but I suggest you check it, right now. Her hair and the way she dresses are nobody’s business but her own and they don’t make her a boy.” The fact those words could even leave his mouth after the childhood he had baffled you “And second I think you should stop and reevaluate the way you talk about your daughter, especially while she’s right upstairs to hear you.”

He turns his head. You’re so far into his space that your noses almost brush but you don’t back away. You would always stand firm when it came to your children. The one’s you two created and set out to raise together in the loving and supporting environment neither of you had gotten growing up.

“Are you guys arguing?”

You straighten up at the squeak of Claire’s question. She stands behind the couch with a slight frown on her round face. Her snack of garlic toast held between two hands.

“No darling of course not,” a smile splits your expression for good measure “why don’t you come with me to check on Lia while Daddy says hello to Emmy hm?”

Claire is not convinced “sounded like arguing.”

You’re at the base of the stairs, swatting the girl up them, when Sirius calls back in a very small manner “I’m sorry.”

He appears more like himself now, the love of your life. Thin, long limbed, warm eyes with a hint of melancholy. Deflated of his anger and replenished with his token skittish composure.

“When I come back there will be no more yelling.”

He nods, and you’re off to discover the root of this grand affair.

Claire stands outside of Lia’ closed door when you arrive. Shifting from foot to foot as if nervous to go in. You reach over her and rap on the sticker covered wood with a firm knuckle. There’s no answer but you turn the knob and enter anyway.

The room is dark, lights off and curtains drawn. The only illumination comes from the device set up on the bedside table that projects stars and planets onto the ceiling. A balled-up form rests in the very corner of the bed, back to you, arms slung over the head.

“Is she crying?” Claire whispers. Well, her version of whispering. Which was just her regular speaking volume but slower.

“No.” Lia grinds out. She twists herself around so you can see her face. She wasn’t crying but she surely had been if the red of her eyes were evidence enough.

You make your way over to the bed, posting yourself up against the headboard. Claire opts to sit at the bottom, gazing up at the light show.

“Want to tell me what happened at school today?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Despite the circumstances a warm fuzzy feeling seeps throughout your chest, always happy to indulge in some physical affection. Lia is still quite small for her age. She crawls over your legs and slots her body against yours, burrowing as close as she can manage, sticking her nose into the material of your shirt and inhaling deeply. Her dark hair tickles your face. Not long enough for a scrunchy and too short for much other styling. It sticks up in amusing ends from sweat.

Claire must feel left out because she wraps a crummy hand around your socked foot.

“Daddy’s disappointed in me,” her voice is hoarse and wobbly. She keeps her eyes shut tight while speaking, nose scrunched.

“He’s not, he’s just…unsettled, stressed maybe.”

“Is there a difference?”

To an eight-year-old there might not be.

“Daddy was yelling” comes a whisper snaking up from the end of the bed.

“Be quiet Claire!” Lia tries to shoo the younger girl out of her room but she refuses to go.

“Loudly.” She continues “His face was all red.”

You fight a giggle “Eat your bread Claire bear.”

“Furious” she finishes around the last mouthful of her treat. She’s always been your chatty baby, forever excited for new vocabulary words.

You return your full attention to Amelia “Tell mom what happened bug.”

She doesn’t start immediately, instead relishing in the feeling of your fingers combing through her damp hair for a while. When she does start speaking the story is much worse than you thought it would be.

The boys in class have been bothering her for the last few months.

One in particular who sits directly behind her by the name of Isaac. He is the reason, she confesses, for originally wanting to cut her hair short despite loving the lack of inches now. It was in hopes of deterring him from yanking it by handfuls.

They apparently dislike her always trying to hang around with them and not the girls. Girls belonged with girls and boys belonged with boys as it went. Not allowed to mix. Cooties too easily spread.

They took to stuffing things down the back of her shirt. Swiping her glasses off her face. Shoving her in the lunch line. Ripping the pages out of her notebooks. Pouring glue in her chair. Scratching mean names into her desk. Cornering her during recess while the teachers were distracted and pulling her pants down in front of everyone. Because if she wouldn’t play with the girls then she must be a boy but if she was a boy then they'd need proof.

She tried to tell her homeroom teacher when it first started but the woman didn’t believe her because Isaac is a top student and his family name stood proud on the sign outside of the new gym complex. She must have done something to him to earn such treatment.

“Did you go to your father?”

Lia shakes her head “I started to once but he just told me to try sticking with the girls more.”

“What about me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets between us.”

“You always tell me to be brave and stick up for myself if someone bothers me. I was trying to build up the courage but—” she dissolves into a low whine, struggling to finish around her tears. “I don’t think Daddy likes me.”

Claires eyebrows furrow. Up until then you didn’t think the girl had even been listening “Why would you say that!” she shouts, looking seconds away from bursting into tears herself.

You’re quick to intervene “She doesn’t mean it. Your big sister is just really sad right now.”

“No, I mean it!” Lia insists, sitting up to rub at her eyes “He doesn’t like me! He complains about everything I do!” her head bobbles from side to side as she lists “Sit more lady like. Why don’t you wear any of the dresses grandma bought you. Why don’t you do ballet instead of soccer. Why don’t you grow your hair out like the other girls. Why don’t you have any girl friends”

You take her hands into yours, they’re cold. You feel unprepared to deal with her emotions, she’s so young to even be ruminating over such things. All you want to do is ease her heartache, as her mother. An adult in her life who should have all the answers, but has no clue where to start. What would be saying too much and what would be too little. “Oh, my love, your father had a really hard time growing up with his own dad. He was really strict with him. That’s no excuse for him to take it out on you, but I know he loves you very much”

She deflates back onto your chest “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me.”

She finishes the story.

It was recess. She was climbing up onto the monkey bars and about to go across when Isaac caught her pant leg and tried to yank them down. On instinct she went to kick him off and accidentally struck him in the face.

“I didn’t mean to break his nose. Swear.”

Never in a million years would you think her capable of intentionally hurting some. You placate her with a kiss on the forehead anyway “how about you and mom go out for a treat? Huh? Just the two of us?”

She sniffles in contemplation “Ice cream?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I come?” Claire crawls her way up to the headboard.

“I’ll bring you back some, but Lia’s had a very bad day and that means what?”

“She needs mommy time?”

“Exactly.”

You ease said girl out of your lap gently, laying her out on the pillows, and promising to be back in five minutes. Then you’d go for her treat.

On your way out of the room you notice Claire scooting closer. She sticks her pointer finger right in her sisters’ face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

The aggravated “Claire!” follows you down the stairs.

In the living room Sirius and Emmy sit in comfortable silence, your husband bouncing the now cheerful baby on his knee. His neck nearly snaps at your approach. Eyes already glassy with regret.

“Is she terribly upset?”

“Heartbroken more like” you say, not bothering to sugarcoat it for him “she thinks you don’t like her.”

He lowers his head in shameful anguish when you sit beside him. “I just, she’s so much like me when I was young.” No friends his own gender. Only interested in things typically deemed non-conforming “the things I went through in school, at home, it pains me to imagine that happening to her.”

How much had she told him of the bullying you wonder and why had he kept it from you. You'd been there for so much of his own struggle that it honestly hurts your feelings that he’d allowed himself to spiral so much without seeking you out. The number of times he showed up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The cuts and bruises you’d tended, caused over simplicities like nail polish, the length of his hair, the music he listened to. The way he dressed, acted, spoke.

“Ok, but you can’t just force her to change who she is in the name of protecting her. Just because she isn’t the girliest girl out there doesn’t give anyone the right to bully her, not even you. All you’re doing is teaching her that being herself is not ok. Then to go and blow up on her like that. It’s confusing Sirius. You know better.”

You don't say it, wouldn’t ever go that low, but you know he’s thinking it. He’s acting like his father.

Sirius sits with your words.

“Why did she hit him then?”

“She didn’t really. He tried to pull her pants down on the playset so she kicked out. It was an accident.”

“Pull her pants down?”

A fresh wave of anger rolls over his shoulders. You snatch Emmy from his grasp before planting a kiss onto his temple.

“No more of that. Go upstairs and talk to her before we leave.”

You’d get on him later for keeping secrets from you.

Sirius returns the kiss, lingering for a few seconds too long, pressing his nose into the fat of your cheek. He smells like peppermint.

“I love you.” Her murmurs. And you’re suddenly transported back to your childhood bedroom. The sun just creeping over the horizon and spilling through your window right onto his sleeping face. The lips so like Claires’, ears and brows so like Emersons’, freckles like Amelias’. Hovering your finger over the bridge of his nose, skimming along his throat. Blowing gently at his thick lashes. Poking at the sliver of skin peeking out at his tummy where his shirt had risen up. When you’d fall asleep with him on the floor and always wake up to his breath on the back of your neck, legs tangled in bed with you. The fit of giggles sneaking him out the house before your parents woke up.

“Love you too. Now go!”

You’re once again left with Emmy in the exact same place you’d started. He watches Sirius take the stairs two at a time before turning back to you, frown already forming.

“And you my little man, i love you so much.”

#fem reader #female reader #fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader #thefearedashantis #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black #dad!sirius black #maurauders fanfic #mom!reader #sirius orion black #the marauders era #the marauders #hurt/comfort

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iheartjameshetfield · 8 months

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this has been rotting my brain...

so imagine sucking James dick and while you're down there, he can tell how needy you're getting so he sticks out his boot and you end up riding his boot while sucking his dick

this is just so 🤭🤭

YES YES YES OMGHSHFJSGDJAHD

you’d be getting him off and his moans would drive you insane. seeing the way he just throws his head back, praising you, calling you sweet names as he tugs on your hair while you suck him off, it makes you even wetter.

when he delivers a particularly hard thrust into your mouth, you couldn’t hold back anymore. you started clenching your thighs, looking for any sort of relief but it was fruitless, making you whine over james’ cock. he finds humor in your neediness but after a while it’s just pitiful, the way you start grabbing on to him to find any sort of friction like a dog in heat.

he shifts his leg a little until his boot was right underneath your heat. you look up at him confusedly, your mouth still stuffed with his cock and the sight makes him twitch.

“jesus christ” he hisses before letting out a breathy moan. when he sees that you still don’t get the hint, he taps his foot. “there you go, pretty girl. you’ve earned it” he smiles reassuringly.

the second you understand what he means, you pounce at the chance to ride his boot while you keep sucking him off. the friction that his boot keeps making against your clit was causing you to whimper and whine around him as you try to reach your climax.

james needed to cum so bad. he could die right then and there a happy man just from seeing the way your mouth could barely take him all and the way you keep pathetically rutting against him.

you start crying, frustrated from the overstimulation on your clit, yet you can’t cum. james brings his thumb down to wipe your tears lovingly, but then he has a tight grip on your hair, using it as leverage as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth like you’re nothing but a hole to him.

you feel his balls slapping against your chin, constantly gagging around him as you pitiably bounce on his boot. he tries to help you finish by tapping his boot against the ground, meeting your cunt halfway with your grinds.

“oh fuck, gonna cum in this pretty mouth, shit.”

with one last thrust into your mouth, he holds your head still, not even thinking about the possibility of you not being able to breath or choking around him. he cums deep into your throat as you practically suck him dry, your throat constantly restricting around him. he feels his dick in your throat as he strokes your neck, making you swallow every drop of cum in his system.

after what feels like forever, he finally pulls out of your mouth, making you gasp for air and cough. he doesn’t bother wiping your tears form your cheeks or cleaning up the cum and spit smeared around your mouth and chin.

“there you go, sweet girl, you got it” he pats the side of your cheek, telling you sweet words of encouragement to help you finish.

“i need to cum, james, please” you whine, tears streaming down your face.

“come on baby, you could do it.”

you grip onto his legs for leverage, helping you ride him faster. you pant as you feel your orgasm hit you suddenly. you bite down on his thigh, trying to be careful not to hurt him. you lay limp, resting your head against his thigh as you hug his leg, your chest heaving as you come down from your high. james strokes your hair lovingly, murmuring sweet praises.

“you did so good for me. atta girl” he smiles sweetly at you

oh my fucking god i will SCREAM I NEED THIS I NEED HIM

#i need him so bad #i don’t think you understand #james i need you #i need this #riding your boot while sucking you off will cure my depression just give it a chance #james hetfield #metallica #james hetfield smut #metallica smut #james hetfield fanfic #james hetfield metallica #james hetfield x reader #asks and replies

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kafkacrisis · 1 year

Text

Anything for you

characters: kafka.

warning(s): N.SFW, minors DNI, AFAB fem!reader, dom/sub dynamics (sub!reader & dom!kafka), sadom.asochism, crotch stepping & bootlicking, humiliation k¡nk, unhealthy devotion.

summary: punishments for insubordination are a necessary evil kafka particularly enjoys.

You can't imagine how you must look right now, wearing your dirtied uniform and leaned down on your knees in some dingy hotel room. Your legs ache from the pressure of them against the hard wood floors, specks of dust falling from the opened window onto your skin. Anyone could peer in and see you like this—completely at the mercy of your superior.

Kafka is above you, sat on the edge of the hotel bed, her arms and legs crossed. Her elegance looks out of place in the little run down room you're both camping out in for this mission. Her face trained into perfect boredom, and if you didn't know better, you truly would believe she was trying not to fall asleep.

"I really do not understand how you think sometimes," she finally speaks, the harsh sound of her voice almost making you wince.

You look up at her, eyes probably shining in anticipation. You see her jaw clench harder.

"You risked the entire mission, and for what? Are you just that—" her voice lowers as she stands to her full height, grabbing your face with a painful intensity, "—damn stupid?"

It's rare for Kafka to show any real emotion at all, much less the bone chilling rage she's trying and failing to contain now. In some sick, twisted way, you feel proud of yourself for getting her to react like this.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off with a harsh slap against your cheek, the force of it knocking your head to the side. You let out a small gasp of surprise, mouth hanging open stupidly. She grabs your face again by the chin, pulling it up and to the side so you could lock eyes. Her expression is positively dangerous.

"I should know better than to count on your help," she rasps. "After all, you're just a useless moron who would do anything to get my attention—even if will get you killed."

Her foot raises, the heel of her boot pressing into your clothed thigh. You bite your lip, trying not to let out a cry of pain. She only continues, never releasing her harsh grip on your chin. Your lips wobble with the desire to babble obscenities, to tell her Yes, Kafka, I'd do anything for this, Kafka, please—

"I have to punish you for that stunt you pulled, you know that," Kafka mumbles, her fingers briefly relaxing, running along the curve of your jaw. "I can't do with everyone disobeying me. If you want me to do this, sit you down and hit you until you're coming untouched..."

She pauses, reaching to hold your face delicately with both of her gloved hands. Her thumb wipes away an errant tear from your eye, gentle in a way that almost makes you forget about her heel digging into your leg.

"Then just ask me, instead of doing those pitiful things to make me hurt you. I will welcome you into my arms every time, my sweet girl. You don't even need to ask."

You're crying now, for reasons you can't even begin to name. You've wanted your superior for so long, throwing yourself into danger to protect her, all so you could hear her scold you afterwards for being so reckless.

Kafka is everything to you. She has to know that.

"I will be yours for as long as you want me." Your words come out watery and choked up, remnants of your tears falling into your opened mouth. "Kafka, I—"

"Shh, shh, I know. It's alright," she leans down, her lips just barely brushing against your own, the kiss as chaste as could be. Her eyes are close to yours, the color so deep you could get lost in them forever. "Let me take care of you now, I promise I'll show you how much I desire you, too."

The toe of her boot pries open your legs, pushing against the seam of your pants, and you let out a scream. Kafka looks pleased with herself, her painted lips turning upwards into a familiar wry smile.

Your squeals eventually break off into broken pants, your breath escaping you in short bursts. The pressure feels so good, it feels even better knowing its Kafka doing this to you—but the pain of her boot against your clit is making your vision blacken at the edges.

"You're shaking like a leaf, but isn't this what you wanted?" Her mocking tone lights your blood on fire, and you cry out in disappointment when her boot leaves you. She leans back, her ankles crossed as she once again sits down on the edge of the bed. She leaves you there, choking and wheezing on the floor, painfully wet in the confines of your pants and underwear.

You look up at her, an attempt at pleading that Kafka only laughs at. She's enjoying every second of this, watching her beloved devotee squirm at every denial of pleasure.

She snaps her fingers and directs you forward, as if you were a dog meant to follow her every command. You're flushed down to your chest, with watery eyes and bruises on your arms from a previous battle—but Kafka doesn't seem to care if you're hurting or not. It feels so good to be treated this way, and you wonder (not for the first time), what wires got crossed in your brain to make you feel like this.

"My precious girl," she smiles, pushing your head down to the floor so you're eye level with her shoes. "Won't you clean my boots for me? I can't go out knowing they were up against you like that—isn't it much too vulgar?"

Your throat bobs as you swallow. She is having too much fun with this. You wish you wanted to say no, that the idea of being at Kafka's mercy and being a disgusting bootlicker upset you.

But it doesn't. And so you lower yourself down, and listen to Kafka's voice as you run your tongue along the top of her boot. The taste is inconsequential, it means nothing compared to the sound of Kafka breathing in sharply above you.

"You really would do anything if I asked you to, huh?" Kafka says, almost in disbelief herself. You can feel your heart aching, your eyes shut tightly as you think of how embarrassing this is. Its so fucking embarrassing to be doing this, you can't even think straight. You feel your clit throbbing against your tight pants, your hand itching to reach down and absolve yourself of the pressure.

She suddenly pulls her foot away, and in your embarrassment you can't even find it in yourself to look up and meet her eyes. You really just did that. She probably thinks you're gross. This could be it now—she's going to tell you to get up and leave.

"Get up here, now," she calls, holding her hand out for you to grab. With hesitancy, you reach to take her hand—your breath hitching when she yanks you up on top of the bed. She pushes you down with an urgency you just don't get, scrambling to unbutton your pants as you writhe and cry for it above her.

"Kafka, Kafka, please," you pant, chanting her name without pause. It hurts. You're so desperate for her, and it hurts more than any pain or humiliation she's subjected you to in the past hour.

"You're too good. Too willing to do anything for me," Kafka whispers into your neck as she rubs fingers against your now exposed cunt, rough and fast in their movements. Her gloves hurt, but the sensation of them is also so unbearably good it makes you want to screech. "I will keep you here, fuck you all the time til I'm the only person you care to remember. I promise."

You come after that, loud and messy—your face flushing once you realize how it had gotten everywhere. Kafka doesn't seem to mind though, watching the way you start to drift off into a deep sleep as she licks the remnants from her gloved fingers.

this was so nasty i'm sorry everyone. the demons took over and they wouldn't leave me be.

#kafka x reader #kafka x you #kafka x reader smut #kafka smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr kafka #honkai star rail #!~lie is writing

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 9 months

Note

Just imagine Reader taking care of Din’s injuries after he was in a big fight and got lots of cuts and bruises on his chest and back. Of course it starts to turn intimate and Din wants some, but Reader reminds him he’s hurt. It would be steamy, sweet, and funny all at once.

Like You Do | Din Djarin x f!Reader

"You're the one I can't lose, no one loves me like you do" - Joji, Like You Do

summary: Din comes back to the crest hurt and her heart just breaks at the sight of her strong Mandalorian crumbling to his knees. warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, descriptions of blood, cuts, and needles, his name is din not djarin (i'm sorry he is 4ever din<3), razor crest lives forever, mando'a use, no grogu, reader is so in love with, din is a simp, mando's helmet comes off (i'm sorry), sexual tension, touching, groping, kissing, din begging to be fucked AN: I have had this request in my drafts forever because i kept re writing it so here is the final product. I want to clarify that Din Djarin is my #1 man, i know it's shocking because I write about Joel mostly. But Din is my soulmate and I'm a little embarrassed to share my thoughts about Din. Like my room color scheme is grey, silver, and black I re did my room back when The Mandalorian came out. That's my little secret<3 anyways enjoy my little fantasy<3333 masterlist

translations: cyar’ika- darling, beloved, sweetheart Udesii- "take it easy" Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum- "I love you/I know you forver"

Din could feel the sliced skin stretch with each step he took, all he could smell is blood, blaster smoke, and sweat. His breathing was uneven and his body trembling when he made it to the crest, falling to his knees as he heard your sweet honey voice calling out to him.

"Din! Maker! I don't know where you're bleeding from!" You slide to your knees taking the large Mandalorian into your arms, laying him against your chest, your hands working quickly removing his armor except for his helmet. His flight suit was torn on his left side at the waist, his flesh gashed, red bleeding into the meat of his skin. He needs bacta but the hard stuff.

Din said he will only use it if you were the one hurt; your mind replayed that whole argument when you guys finally gave in and fell through the thin wire of tension cutting it when he thrust himself into your hot core.

You asked him, 'Why can't we use it on you if it ever comes down to it?'

'I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive...you're the one I can't lose.'

You scoffed at him and just spat 'So I can lose you and feel the exact same pain you would feel for me'

'You're so much stronger than me in every single way, cyar’ika' Din chokes up and it broke your heart seeing be so emotional. He was a cold-hearted person until you came along as another recuse he collected. You brought your sunshine and melted away the winter in his heart.

The movie in your head clears when you grabbed the needle of bacta and pinched his skin near the gash and pushed the medicine into his muscles. Din's screams were so visceral and his hands grip your thighs, bruising them to a deep purple. "Udesii! Udesii!" You cry out as you throw the empty syringe across the hull.

His body jolts while the bacta runs through his body, you composed yourself and grab the medpack pulling out the field cauterizer. You laid him on his right side while you fused his skin back together. Burning flesh filled the air making your bile come up your throat burning it and leaving a sour taste in your mouth, your hands slick from sweating and his blood.

Din going limp and taking shallows breaths submitting to you saving him. You wiped your hands on your pants and laying him on his back, you sobbed as you cupped the cheek of his helmet with your hands.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum" Din strangles to say holding your wrist in his hand, pressing your hand closer to the beskar. You collapsed on top of him, your body jerking from the hiccups and sobs leaving your mouth. Din wraps his arms around holding you like a child holding his favorite toy close so it won't leave his sight.

"You're so dramatic, little girl" Din takes a deep breath and laughs it out. You craned your neck to him without his helmet. You quickly turned away, you panic and guilt slamming into your heart. "I want you to see me, cyar’ika" Din grabs your chin and tilts your head where your eyes are burning into his brown eyes.

You swallow as your eyes dance around his face, taking his eyes, the scruff on his face, patchy in a few spots, his mustache bringing attention to his plump lips, so pink and kissable.

"You were crafted by the maker, din" You trace his nose with your fingertip, taking in how his skin feels on yours. "Kiss me, little girl, please" He whimpers while you thumb over his bottom lip. The need in his voice made you ache between your thighs. You carefully straddle his waist and bring your lips to his, Din sits up groaning while he licked in your mouth, his hands exploring up and down your back, his hands grabbing your ass and squeezing so hard.

You gasp and moan "Din...you're h-" he cuts you off and bites your lip. He grabs your hand and places it on top of the outline of his hard cock. "C'mon baby, let's fuck," his words entice you as you tighten your grip around his clothed length, and he winces and whimpers and you remembered you're the stronger one and need to stop this so he could rest.

"Din, no you need to rest," he kisses your neck and bites at the thin skin. "Little girl, let's have fun..." That damn name made you want to say screw it. "Let's sleep, I'm tired and you have to be too," You helped Din to the steel slab that he calls a bed and lays down holding out his arms for you to be his human-weighted blanket.

"We will talk about the bacta when we wake up" Din mumbles as sleep takes over him and relaxes with you on top of him.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #pedro pascal is the mandalorian

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creedslove · 11 months

Text

DESERVE IT - PART FIFTEEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier does his best to apologize to you, which isn't a lot but it is enough, especially when he decides he needs an important answer from you

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff

A/N: Hi besties this is a very short chapter compared to the ones I've written before but I covered everything I needed to in this one. It is not my best work but it is not my worst either, I hope you guys will like it because I loved it and it's soooo cute 🥺🥺🥺

• PART ONE TO FOURTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

2.5k words

If you had the guess the cause of your death, you would have guessed: Javier Peña

Because that devilish man, was indeed, the death of you.

He chewed you up and spat you out and you didn't even complain about it because he could make you cry and whimper and beg you for more.

And that was exactly what happened. After nearly giving you a heartache, of pretty much breaking up with you, disappearing for several hours at night and making you sure you would be alone, Javier got into his apartment, fell onto his knees, your knees, called himself a dog at your feet and then started eating you out.

You barely reacted other than throwing your back against the wall for balance and whimpered. Loud. And then you moaned and called your name. And a part of you had a petty desire of screaming his name as loud as you could, so you could get in the way of Steve's and Connie's fight because there was no way he could get away with that behavior without being scolded by his wife, and then, in case they had already finished their argument and went to bed, you wanted to wake them up, by showing them unlike what Steve had said, you and Javier were going strong, that you were a real couple, that your relationship was for real, no matter what Steve, or anything thought of it, you loved Javi and he loved you.

"Fuck you Javier" you whimpered as he only raised his brown eyes at you, but didn't stop his mouth from wrapping around your clit, suckling on it and dragging another moan from you.

You gripped his hair, the same forceful grip he had on your hair when you blew his cock, he often fucked your face, so it was only fair you fucked his face.

You looked at him and bit your lips ``listen to me, Javier'' you managed to mumble between moans and pulled his head away from your cunt, watching as he swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips, smearing with your wetness. Javi had the puppiest eyes in the world as his thumb wiped a drop of your honey and he paid close attention to what you had to say "you don't get to do shit like that and then come back here, so if you wanna make it up to me, you gotta do it good, Javier. You got me? You gotta make me scream'' you said, staring daggers at him.

He swallowed again and nodded once more, he would do anything you asked him, commanded him, demanded him if it meant you would stay with him. He was so into you it was pathetic and now he couldn't even hide it anymore, you were a necessity, an obsession, something he craved and begged for every day and night.

You gripped his hair again and pulled it rather painfully "me has dicho que eres como un perro a mis pies, ¿No? Entonces, muéstrame"

You didn't often speak Spanish with him, but when you did it was enough to drive Javier Peña insane, it was like adding the code and pressing the buttons to set off a bomb.

He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your center closer to his mouth. Your back was against the wall, at the same time he leaned forwards, his big hands guiding your legs to his shoulders, and his face back deep into your core.

His jeans were tight and his cock throbbed inside of his pants, but at that moment Javier was so hungry for you, he was at your feet, savoring your sweet, juicy cunt and he wanted that forever.

His hands went from the side of your thighs to your lower belly, your skin always felt like butter under his rough touches and he carefully used them to spread your lips open, revealing you entirely for him.

Javi could see your clit hard and sensitive, twitching at the air as he stopped to watch his work of art. He smirked softly and gently kissed it, drawing whimpers from you.

"Don't tease me, perro" you gripped his hair again, feeling a little annoyed and gasped as you felt Javier's teeth scraping softly against your bare clit. He very softly placed a love bite on it, making you squeal and immediately suckled on it, as air escaped your lungs and you moved your hips against his face.

His knees hurt and his shoulders burned but he didn't give one single fuck, he was having his time with you and even if he had to take all the painkillers in the world it would be completely worth it. The way he devoured you was something else, Javier had always been a great pussy eater, but at that moment he wanted to blow your mind and he was achieving his goal as your legs shook and you tried as best as you could to sustain your own weight.

Javi's tongue explored your pussy, sliding it up and down and finding your pouring hole, your sweet juices floating his mouth as he tongue fucked you, going as deep as he could, feeling your internal walls squeezing it at the same time his perfect curved nose brushed against your clit, driving you insane.

You were so caught up in your pleasure, calling his name like a prayer and never wanting it to stop, but the urgent knot on your lower belly sent shivers down your spine and before you could even warn Javi you were cumming.

Hard.

For him, on him.

Javi couldn't sustain your weight any longer and as you came and convulsed in his mouth he pulled you to his lap, the two of you on the floor, tiredly as you stared into his eyes, you leaned in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and wrapping yourself around him, wanting him so close to you, your bodies tangled together, his scent on you. You broke the kiss and cupped his cheek, staring into his eyes, as he helped you get your dress off, revealing your naked form for him.

Javi's lips latched onto your nipples, one at a time, licking them and suckling on it, as your hands ran through his hair, softly now, gentle even.

Javi was still completely silent, he hadn't dared say a word, but one simple command escaped his lips.

"On all fours now, cariño" he whispered against your ear and watched as you got in position for him, which you gladly did, spreading your legs wide for him. Your sex glistening with your cum, all for him again.

Javi gave you one last lick, his tongue running through your slit, flicking your sensitive clit and going to your asshole, circling it gently before he smacked your cheek with one hand.

The other unzipping his jeans and freeing his cock, pre cum glistened on his tip, as he was so ready for you.

He didn't take long to get inside of you, getting his length as deep as he could and moving his hips, fucking you as hard and fast as he wanted, on the floor, like the two animals you were.

When you finally got off the floor, Javi held you by the waist, taking you to bed, throwing his body heavily against the mattress and pulling you for a kiss. Just as he predicted, his entire body ached, but it was worth every second of it. He still hadn't explained or apologized, he didn't know how to start. What was he supposed to say?

That he went nuts when Steve mistreated you? That the guilt he felt from his past actions almost cost him his relationship with you because for a moment he really thought you'd be better off without him and that he should leave you alone to live your life with someone who actually was worth of your love? Or should he start by telling you about how he broke into Judy Moncada's house and the only reason why he wasn't a dead body being dumped in some shallow grave in the middle of woods was because she thought his attitude was actually amusing?

No, he couldn't do that, he couldn't say those things. It would be just a mix of embarrassing and stupid, but you read him like a book and you just knew he was avoiding talking to you.

"Javi… we need to talk" you said but he frowned as he looked at your knees and saw the bruise forming on them from being on the floor while he railed you "shit, princesa, let me take care of it…" he got up and went to the bathroom, returning some moments later with a bottle of lotion you'd left there sometime shortly after you'd started dating and squirted something onto his hand, sitting next to you and applying it to your knees, massaging them gently along with your thighs.

"You do know we need to talk, Javier" you broke the silence though you could feel yourself melting onto the couch at your boyfriend's ministrations on your skin. You had just had a real tiring day, too many emotions all at once, and to finalize things, you had orgasmed hard, more than once, so it was a fair assumption his little massage was making you less and less willing to have a serious talk with him.

You knew it was his intention all along, but at that point, it felt like it didn't even matter. You closed your eyes and relaxed but opened them again as your felt Javi's fingers on your clit, circling it and making your legs twitch

"No amor, please… it's too sensitive now" you bit your lips and stared at him, who nodded and kissed his way up your thighs, getting on your stomach and resting his head on it. Javier's arms wrapped around your figure and snuggled there, falling into a comfortable silence. He let his thoughts run freely and forget all about what happened earlier. He was taken back to the warmth of the weather in Laredo, the green of the fields, the small city and the familiarity of it. He liked picturing you there, always dressed beautiful in summer dresses, not so different from Colombia after all, he liked imagining you running along with him, going to the stables and petting the horses, because Javier was sure you would be the kind of girl who would love to pet the horses, and he was also sure the horses would gladly let you pet them, because you were impossible to resist, and that, he knew for a fact.

He sighed as his dreams were so sweet, he loved daydreaming about that, and when you began playing with his hair, then he felt he had died and gone straight to heaven.

You loved to feel him nuzzling your womb, he looked like a lazy old cat sprawled all over you, and it warmed your heart. It was something so simple, so domestic and once it seemed so out of reach, when you thought you and Javier would never be able to have that, you even thought you would never be able to be more than just a lay for Javier, but there you were. You were with your man, in a sweet moment, late at night, giving him all the affection he needed, he craved but he thought he didn't deserve it.

He was relaxed and kept his eyes closed, but you knew he wasn't asleep, so you thought it was time to bring things up.

"Javi… we need to talk about tonight… I'm so sorry I acted that way, but I wasn't expecting Steve being such a dick, and I know I told you many times I don't hold your past against you, but I can't help being jealous of you, because you are attractive and handsome and even hookers want you" you sighed "but I know you are mine just as I am yours, but it still makes me jealous" you admitted as Javi opened his eyes and looked at you. He gave you a sad look, and you knew what he meant. He couldn't erase his past, and he couldn't undo those things. God knew he would have if he had the chance, but he was already thankful you loved him without judgment.

Javi licked his lips softly and stroked your hand, as you continued

"And I got also very worried about you and what he said about Los Pepes, please Javi, be careful, don't do anything stupid because if something happens to you I am sure I'm gonna die"

He swallowed hard and got even closer, cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours, heart heavy in his chest at your words. Javier Peña almost sacrificed himself so many times at work, but it wasn't just because he cared about his job, about the people and the country he was currently living in. But it wasn't just because of that, he was also lost, personally lost, he had nothing to actually live for, nothing that held him back, but he was tired of it. He was tired of screwing things up, of endangering himself like that, he wanted to be safe for once, because now he had something good, he didn't want that life any longer and above all, he didn't want to make you suffer.

"Y/N I'm gonna ask you something and I want you to know that I ain't joking, I need an answer, a real one" he said as he licked his lips once more and rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded, both on curiosity but also anxiety. You had no idea what he wanted.

"Will you marry me?" He asked and you felt your heart was bursting out of ribcage. You couldn't even believe your ears and if he hadn't warned you he wasn't joking or if he wasn't staring at you apprehensively, you would have been sure it was just a joke.

"What?" It was all you could whisper at him, tears slowly flooding your eyes, as the emotions were getting more and more intense.

"Not right now, cariño and it doesn't have to be in Colombia, it can be when we get our beautiful life in the ranch, and I get if you are afraid of answering me, I know you've had your heart broken by someone you loved once and that you were left at the altar and fuck, I also know I am a walking red flag but I need to know if we have a chance, I need to know if I will have something to fight for, something to-"

You interrupted him by placing your lips against his, closing the distance between you two as you cupped his cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't need him to say anything else, it wasn't even necessary and you didn't want him to fall into another round of self-deprecating thoughts.

You broke the kiss, smiling as you stared into his eyes and nodded, feeling the happiness overflowing you. Absolutely nothing else mattered in the world but you and Javier, who was going to become of soon-to-be husband.

"Of course I'll marry you Javi"

_____

A/N: hey besties, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter, our story is almost over and well, I want Javi and reader to have their happy ending soon 😍🥺 😍🥺😍🥺

I mean, would you say no to marrying this mf?

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hoonichi · 2 years

Text

kinktober ‘22 - day six

pairing: fem!reader x intak

words: 732

warnings: mirror sex, dirty talking, usage of baby nicknames, ? that’s all me thinks

a/n: let’s ignore the fact that i missed day five, let’s also ignore that today should be day nine, i have zero motivation

tags: @tanzju & @v0relino <3

kinktober ‘22 masterlist

—

“look at yourself,“ intak growls into your ear, his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. his fingers move up the side of your neck, till he reaches your chin, roughly grasping at your skin forcing you to tilt your head so you can‘t look anywhere other than into your reflection in the mirror, that covers up most of the wall, “look how pretty you look, all stuffed up with my cock“ intak smirks, lowering his head onto your shoulder, while watching the act unfold.

honestly, if you could, you would, but you can barely keep your eyes open from the intense feeling that is intak’s cock driving crazily into you. even so, watching yourself get ruined is making you feel more flustered than before. this newly found position has been already so naughty in the first place.

intak has been thrusting his cock into you, holding your legs open wide and refusing to let them go, proud thoughts of having you under his control being the only thing in his mind. intak wants to ruin you, absolutely fuck your brains out and how else would you know that other than intak showing you?

you reluctantly watch the ruined mascara running down your cheeks, all your preparation for a date with intak going down the drain. your eyes lock with intak’s in the mirror, “won’t look?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, “i can easily make you, you know..”

you shake your head and give in, knowing that intak won’t hesitate to do everything in his power if you refuse. you break the eye contact and slowly look down the mirror. you can see everything; the way intak’s cock moves in and out, and the way you’re clenching around him, some of your juices running down your legs.

the mirror makes everything look more erotic. and you can’t help but moan out loud at that.

intak scoffs in a mocking manner, “does this turn you on baby? you’re getting so fucking wet,”

all you can do is just nod your head. even if it’s embarrassing, you can’t help but feel some kind of way, “keep watching baby, i want you to remember this forever”

with that intak becomes feral, driving his hips into yours, enjoying the way loud and strained moans leave your throat. he grips your legs harder, not wanting to let you fall and rams his cock in and out, making loud squelching sounds every time it meets with your pussy.

“t-too much! inta-aak please!,” you throw your head back on his shoulder, not getting a single minute to catch up on your breaths.

“i told you to watch yourself,” intak growls, voice so deep it makes you instantly look up again.

it even begins to look like the mirror is getting foggy itself. no wonder though, both of your haste breaths been filling up the room for awhile now. soon you begin to lose yourself. it’s all getting too much for you to handle. your legs hurt from being held up for so long and you whine out from the pain.

“fuck, fine,” intak groans out, dropping your legs but pushing you forward instead. you fall down but manage to steady yourself with your arms. intak grabs your legs and makes you kneel before ramming his cock back into you which makes you scream. he’s balls deep again except now you’re being fucked in doggy style.

intak doesn’t waste a moment to grip your hair and force your head up. you look straight into the mirror and the only thing you can see is the way intak is pushing into you, his thrusts hard and fast.

you cry out when his cock hits that one particular spot. it was a bad idea to do so because now intak keeps thrusting continuously into it after hearing your expressive moans.

his hands grip the soft flesh of your waist, “i will cum soon baby” he warns you in advance and all you can do is just nod. you’re nearing your orgasm too.

few more thrusts and intak is cumming, letting out the hottest groans you’ve ever heard. you follow right after him, not being able to hold yourself up anymore and collapsing on the floor. intak still keeps on thrusting into you, this time slowly as if milking out everything that’s left.

he pulls himself out and then slaps your ass with a chuckle, “you did great baby”

#p1harmony smut #intak smut #p1harmony intak smut

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romeulusroy · 11 months

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Sever (Kendall Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Kendall, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,515

Inspired By: Absence by Rio Romeo

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Nervous to post!!! I thought I might try writing like I used to with my absolute favorite trope lol. I don't know how it'll go and tbh I expect this not to go well, but what can ya do? I didn't make it as dark as I used to write, but I'm definitely up to giving it a try! Let me know what you think my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Resentment sleeps between you. Like a baby, its breath is slow and deep. Peaceful. Blissfully unaware. It pushes you to the opposing edges. There is an ever growing abyss in the middle of the mattress. One wrong move, and you’ll slip. Sometimes, in moments of bravery, you’ll hold your hand out. Pebbles will crack off, falling down, and you hold your breath. You never hear the eventual plop of it hitting the bottom. It goes on forever, the only infinite you can count on. You’ll grip the side, watching the inky black as it stares back at you, and you’ll wonder where it all went wrong. When the crack, so small, so insignificant, tore itself in two, into this. He remains incurious. While he sleeps his body is unmoving, unphased by what lies between you. He remains still, content, his back turned to the cavity, to the truth. This is not a feeling of dread or fate, merely a glimpse. A recurring nightmare that you will fall in. beneath you will collapse. You’ll call for help, but he will choose not to hear you. Lately, it seems, you're going unheard. Your concerns, your fears, your feelings, your screams. You will cry out and no one will be there to grab you, pull you up, hold you. No one will be there to tell you it’s okay, you’re okay. Instead you will fall for forever. One day, however long that takes, centuries later, you will land next to those pebbles and every bone in your body will shatter. They will combust. Turn to dust. You will be a pool of yourself all because he is choosing not to see reality for what it is. Because he thinks this is okay. Because he thinks you’ll get through this. You can’t get through this. It’s too late. It’s always been too late.

It’s not only resentment. Resentment is the product. The product of ignorance, of anger, of dismissiveness and stupidity. His own ego. A perfect concoction. A deadly poison you drank with enthusiasm. Everyone in your life knew before you did. They could see that crack, that hairline fracture, but you didn’t listen. He wasn’t always like this, you’d tell yourself. Maybe, maybe not, but it’s what you have to say, over and over, until the words are carved into your skull. Part of you is still fighting for him. Making empty promises to yourself. If he comes home, if he comes home and flashes that familiar smile, you’ll give it another try. If he remembers those flowers you like from that one shop. If he brings you coffee in your mug, the only mug you drink it from. If, if, if. He never does any of this. He never will. You’re trying to resuscitate something that is already dead. Dead and buried, you throw yourself on to the casket. Begging him, it, anyone who will listen: please, this one time, this one time let him show you that you are more important than any of this. All of this. This whole world. Instead he is door slamming and muffled screaming and highs and lows that are unpredictable. He is kissing young, hot strangers and drinking into oblivion. He is exactly the man you married. He always has been. You’ve been fooling yourself the whole time.

You pretend to be asleep, pulling the covers over your head. His alarm is loud and furious, like his father. He dresses and redresses, caught in a loop. Forever burdened to live the same morning over and over. Insecure, unsure, there is a pile of dress shirts on the floor. A pile you used to pick up, rehang. A pile that used to disappear before he came home. A pile you’d like to set fire to. Forever trying to impress blood that wouldn’t care if he swam or drowned. He hums to himself, tying his tie, checking himself over. You count the minutes until he is gone. Dressed, shaved, cologne so thick you could choke on it. He picks up coffee on the way when there is a perfectly good, perfectly expensive machine, sitting in the kitchen. His phone, fully charged, is already vibrating with missed calls, missed texts, missed connections. You used to wonder if he had your number blocked or muted, every opportunity to reach out going straight to voicemail. Now you don’t wonder. Now you don’t call. Now you wait for him to leave, for the front door to carelessly bang shut before you start your day. You step over the pile of clothes in the walk in closet. You ignore the double sinks in the master bathroom. You leave the bed unmade. Instead, you make your coffee. From the machine. With your favorite mug. You linger in the kitchen, living room, what would have been the nursery. All the places untouched by his presence. This is more your home than his, but it is both your names on the paperwork. Both your names in the engraved wine glasses. Both your names in those vows. You sip and sit and picture a life much happier than this one.

Maybe in another lifetime.

When you’re done, you wash it by hand, leaving it in the sink to dry. It remains the only proof of your existence. Undisturbed the rest of the house remains. Even the cushions you curled into have resumed their correct place. This house isn’t the only thing rejecting you. Like a foreign organ, a transplant, everything and everyone knows you don’t belong. He doesn’t want you here, why should they? Back in the bedroom you dress. The clothes wait and watch, but you can’t stand to touch them, look at them. More proof of his failings. You could tell him all the ways he was important and impactful until your lips were blue. He wouldn’t listen. He needed to hear it from them, from him. Your side of the walk-in closet is pristine. You take down a few shirts, a few pairs of pants, moving mindlessly. You remember first moving in, wondering how you could fill this huge space? Now it felt cluttered, suffocating. His things were everywhere. He was everywhere. You found it in the corner, unused. He always promised a big getaway, wherever you wanted, just the two of you. How many years was that? You hoped against hope, every anniversary, every birthday. He had the means, just not the care. You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. The dreams you had for your marriage, your life, they’re still alive. Naive, stupid, it didn’t matter. You were both. You don’t have time to fold them all, the want. You never expected it to go like this. You never wanted it to. But one more night in that bed would kill you. Your spirits, your desires, every foolish idea and notion about what love is and was and will be. One more night against that drop and you might just fall in.

Toothbrush, toothpaste, soaps and conditioners and scrubs. You live two totally separate lives. You only seem at the beginning and the end. He is the sun. Sunrise, sunset. You grab everything you can, zipping it shut. On the edge of the mattress you wonder if you should leave a note, to explain. Explain what? Haven’t you said everything you can? Haven’t you cried and asked and put it every possible way and still, still he has not done one thing to show you that he is listening, that what you say matters. Absorbed in bloodlines and successors and medieval rituals his father loves, the bloodshed. You can’t do it anymore. You can’t be second, or third, or fourth in line for his attention, his priority list. You’ve put up with it for far too long. You know your silence, the absence, will be more impactful than anything you have ever or will ever say. You gave him his ultimatum and he refused to change. Now it is your turn to act. Rolling the suitcase out, you turn off the light. If you didn’t know it, if you were a stranger looking in, you’d never even know you existed. The things you’d need were packed away. The only thing that remained of you was your mug. That he could keep, as a reminder. Next time he chose them over someone he was supposed to spend his lifetime loving, caring, hearing. Next time, when he tripped over himself to impress his father. If there was a next time, that mug would stand for everything he ruined. He messed up. He ignored. Next time, he should think twice. You leave your keys on the table, watching the crack in the mattress shrink just a bit. It can’t be fixed, this can’t be fixed, but it knows you’re doing the right thing.

So many years you spent married to Kendall. So many years you could never get back. But you’d have more after. After him. After this, you’d find real love. Whatever this was, whatever it had been, you were kidding yourself. You know this now. Will he?

#writing #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #kendall roy oneshot #succession oneshot

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diacripticcomplex · 6 months

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Laito x Yui Smutfic

Laito’s POV:

"I want us to be bound by blood." I say and trace her blood with my finger all on her soft juicy lips. I shove them down her throat to the point she gags and throws up, she throws up my blood. "Laito please..I can't do this..." she told me, her complexion looked quite sickly, vampire blood is toxic after all, did I inform her beforehand? No. If I would have told her she wouldn't have been so bold. I force my dear little bitch every day to prove her undying devotion to me. Today she drank my blood, I made her do it while she was indulging me in oral sex. I train her mouth everyday so she's getting better. I love my precious little bitch. I love making love to her and testing her limits, and I make sure to do so, she doesn't deserve any breaks from me. She threw up some more blood and looked at me, she was all sweaty from both the sex and her not feeling good. Her sweat shined so beautifully, she was glowing, looking at her again I'm getting even more turned on. I think she's going to die, her body and state do not look good. "Perhaps I did drive you to the brink of death this time, my little bitch." I sing it to her, then I grab her by her soft hair and take a blade to her throat. "Laito..what are you..." she began to say but I kissed her, it was a disgusting kiss I could taste my bloody throwup residue on her. I handed the blade to her then pulled away and began trailing light kisses down her nape. "Cut your throat for me my love" I purr to her. She hesitates. Why wasn't she doing it? Does she not love me?

"I'll die..." she whispered out, the look of despair on her face was amazing. I'd take a picture and frame it. "But you'll be mine forever, isn't that what you want too ?" I ask her, "I want to be with you..I want to be alive with you.." she expresses, I don't think she understands me, I'll kill her human soul and make her into an immortal like those Mukami brothers. I cup her cheek and bring her into another kiss, this time locking it in and she was kissing passionately back, she wants me, I can tell by the desire of that kiss. While kissing I take the blade from her hand and stab her thigh, she breaks away from the kiss and lets out a sharp gasp. Her eyes widen as she looks at the blade jabbed into her creamy thigh. She attempts to take it out but I do it before her, I chuckled at her slow attempt, I then lick the blade clean. Her sweet blood should never be wasted. "Please no more.." she said crying, her tears brought me such pleasure. I licked the gashing wound on her thigh, the blood started to not leak anymore so I jabbed my fingers into her wound and it spurted out more and more blood, she was flowing again, it leaked down her leg and inner thigh as well. I made sure to lick it all up, catch every drop of her blood.

I felt drunk off her blood, I didn't want to stop drinking it. Normally I would but I'm going to kill her tonight. She will be reborn into my perfect vampire bride. She gripped my wrist very hard, and screamed no. I know exactly what to do. I took her hand, and licked her fingers, sucking on them gently, then I crawled on top of her. I lifted her legs all the way up to her head and held them before going down on her and slurping her tasty fruit, even if she has mixed feelings about me, her body desires me, she was practically an ocean with how wet she was. She panted out very sinful things. "Yes Laito...I'm your little bitch.~" and "You can have my soul...my soul is yours.." things she would only say to me, because I trained this body and mind. I kept devouring her sweet fruit, she began to grip my hair, she does this always, right before her intense orgasms. But I stop, I don't want her to climax from my tongue right now. I take out my hardened sword and tease her with it, she puts it in her mouth but I pull away, she looks confused, I smirk then turn her around, pushing her face first down on her stomach, gripping her hips tightly, I put it in, using her hips to keep myself balanced during my strokes. She was throwing her butt back to me, fucking me back in the process, it was lovely I taught her so much. Her moans began to get higher so I knew it was climax time, I kept going, but I made sure to yank her hair back bringing her closer to me and exposing her pale throat, once she started leaking like a faucet I took my blade and sliced her throat and she began gurgling on her blood, in a few seconds she fell and died. It was so beautiful, I truly do love this bitch. I hold her humanless body now, and kiss her lips.

"Now you are mine forever, wake up my precious little bitch."

#diabolik lovers #diabolik boys #dialovers #yui komori #diabolik brothers #diahell #smut fiction #smut fic #smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #vampire #blood #laito sakamaki #laito x yui #yui x laito #bloodlust #death

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eashmo · 9 months

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Bloodlust part 1 💋 (Vampire Eddie x y/n)

-Saudade-

Rating: R

Warnings: filthy reunion smut to start of this story, This storyline is going to have a lot of smut and fluff with Augst, of course

A/n: picture by me.

Saudade- a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Losing my boyfriend in the Upside Down a year ago has been hell on earth. People would whisper “that was the freaks girlfriend.” or will bully me with “I can see why your murdering boyfriend left you” tears always fell when I hear them because Eddie sacrificed himself to save these people but they will never know how much of a hero he really is. Eddie was never coming back to me, so I thought.

~~~~~~~~

A nightmare of not being able to save Eddie causes me to wake up screaming, tears pouring down my face. I curled into myself as I looked over towards my clock, seeing it read 12AM. I sigh. This was the 10th nightmare this week. I moved to the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands. The images of his soft brown eyes turning dull as life leaves them. The last words he said to me still ring in my ears “I love you forever.”..... I started to hyperventilate. The pain in my chest was getting overwhelming. I did my breathing exercises. A loud crash was heard from downstairs, snapped me out of my episode.

“What the hell?”

Slowly, I rose from the bed, grabbing my nail bat that sat next to my bed. slowly opening the bedroom door, tiptoeing down the stairs. The stairs creaked slightly with every step, causing me to wince at any slight noise. reaching the last step, i peered in the living room. Someone was definitely inside. The place was slightly a mess. like someone made themselves at home. Holding my bat higher, I'm ready to swing at the intruder.

“W-who is there?”

Suddenly, a cold body was against my back. a hand snaked around my waist, I froze when I smelled a familiar scent of earthy musk and cigarettes. an icy breath whispered in my ear, giving me goosebumps.

“Miss me, baby?”

“E-Eddie, is that you?” I started to cry.

”It's me, kitten. i'm back” He replies. Nuzzling his face in my hair neck inhaling my scent that he missed so much his left hand grips my hip hard as his face trails down to the crook of my neck inhaling deeply making us both moan, his other hand takes the bat from my hand and throws it to the floor, a loud clang breaks through my heavy breathing. How was he here? And why was he freezing?

He spun me around gently. We were face to face ,he wiped away the tears that have fallin with a thumb , slowly opening my eyes from my blissfully state of being touched by him again, my Eddie was here. However, he was paler than usual. His smile that made me fall in love with him each time now held sharp and vampire-like canines, and his brown eyes were now crimson. I stood there stunned.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. But, you really do look and smell good enough to eat. I'm starving” he smirks, licking his lips.

“what's stopping you?” I whispered.

I didn't care that he was a vampire now, I didn't want to be without him anymore. He's finally home. Eddie pulled me in, capturing my lips to his. The kiss felt hungry and desperate. He turned into an animal with his actions, hands gripping to my waist roughly, his long nails digging into your skin, growling in my lips. He picked me up suddenly, my legs wrapped around his slender waist as he walked up the stairs, never breaking the kiss. Finding our room, he slams me into one of the walls. I gasped at the sensation, which allowed his tongue to enter my mouth. My tongue also explored his mouth, feeling his sharp canines made me shiver. He broke the kiss and made his way down to my neck, kissing and lightly biting. He walked us to the bed and threw me on top of it. He crawled up to me slowly like the predator he now was. This made my legs clinch together.

“Now kitten, don't be shy” he purrs as he slowly spreads my legs. Kissing my feet and traveling up my right leg as his hand slid up my left. pulling down my sleep shorts, leaving me only in my black lace underwear. It was always his favorite. He let out an animalistic growl when he saw it.

~Fuck vampirism made him even hotter ~ i thought.

He chuckles “who knew that turning into a vampire was going to turn you on so much.” I looked into his crimson eyes in shock.

~How did he know?~

“I can now read your pretty thoughts, kitten.” he smirks.

“fuck me.” I hid my face in embarrassment.

“Oh, I plan on it, kitten.” he slowly pulled my underwear off. He smiled at the beautiful sight and pulled me towards him before going in. He gripped onto my thick thighs as he flattened his tongue against my core.

You gasped, with every touch and flick of his tongue, you squirmed, causing him to look up and lick his lips, “keep moving, and see what happens."

“E-Eddie, please” I whined.

“Did you forget how to address me?” his voice stern.

“N-no S-sir” I breathed out. causing him to smirk before attaching his lips onto my core once more. Gasping at the sudden impact, gripping onto his hair with both hands. Eddie continued, smirking against my skin as I moaned louder and louder with each movement. Sticking his tongue in my entrance he began to fuck me with his tongue. He moved to my clit while adding a ringed finger. Then another. He kisses my thighs and bites down, drawing blood. I gasped in pain and pleasure.

”Right there, sir, please keep going,” I begged.

With every moan, Eddie's hand went faster and faster. “I'm about to cum. Sir” he stops suddenly causing me to whine from being edged. looking down at Eddie, He licked the blood off his lips slowly while staring you in the eyes intensely red eyes now black. Grabbing the collar of his shirt pulling him up to attach my lips to his, tasting copper in my mouth. I moan to the taste.

“I want you inside of me” I say into the kiss.

“As you wish, kitten.” he undid his spiked belt, pulling down his black skinny jeans and then his boxers. He teased my entrance with his tip for a second before roughly entering me, his cock stretching me, I grit my teeth in pain, tears start to slowly surface, it's been too long.

“You ok kitten?” He noticed my discomfort.

“Yes, it's just been too long. I haven't been with anyone, I couldn't, I wanted only you.”

“I'm sorry kitten for taking so long to get back, but you have me forever now.”

He continues but at a slower pace to help me adjust. My body started to want more, thrusting myself on his cock. This executes a long, low growl from him. He pushes my thighs down firmly. His pace now faster each thrust he goes deep into me. He moaned into my neck, left hand gripping my hip and the other threads itself into my left hand, wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed around him digging my nails with my free hand into his back, causing him to fuck me harder. Moans and whines filled the room, which only gave him more energy. His sharp teeth grazed my neck.

“You smell so good” he groans. I can feel him hesitating on biting me, but I trust him.

“Bite me, Eddie, feed off me.” As soon as I gave him permission, I instantly felt pain in my neck. But the pain was quickly replaced by ecstasy. My body felt like it was on fire. As he fed I could tell he was about to cum we both came at the same time, I felt his warm cum shooting in every corner in me filling me up. I almost blacked out from loss of blood and the overwhelming pleasure. gripping him harder as he moans into my neck.

He detached his teeth from my neck. My blood falls from the corners of his lips. as I stare at him in awe. Like he was the most creature that ever walked this earth. His eyes stared back into mine.

“You look beautiful with blood on your face. ” I breathed still dazed. Holding his face in my hands. He chuckles as he licks his lips clean.

“I've missed you, baby girl”

“I've missed you too.. So, so much.”

Part 2

Masterlist

2023

#Spotify #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #vampire eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson scenarios #stranger things #joseph quinn

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

♡ o'children - r.l ♡

starstruckwillows 🂱

requested by @flamey-0 💗

platonic!remus lupin x reader, hurt/comfort, slytherin!reader, spy!reader, suggestions of torture, description of pain and tiredness, mention of throwing up

dumbledore and his child army

your face was harrowed and slightly sunken, skin clinging to the bones as you folded your arms around yourself, trembling all over.

stumbling back from the kitchen door, the weasley twins raised their wands, shouting for everyone to come downstairs now.

a deatheater was on the premises.

the tears choked you as you shook your head, sinking to your knees and rolling your wand across the ground as a sign of peace.

"no, m'not." was all you could manage through your split lip and aching exhaustion.

as the walls of the room swirled into patterns through your dazed eyes, you vaguely registered your cheek pressed onto the chilling floor before you were gone.

waking later that evening to find yourself in a bed was no easy task. peeling your eyelids open made your jaw clench to prevent from screaming.

the transition from laying to sitting felt like playing drums on your spinal cord.

you noticed remus lupin, your defence against the dark arts professor from sixth year, observing you from the corner. assigned to keep watch.

"how did you get in here?" the question was hard and unsympathetic.

why wouldn't it be? they think you kill muggles and muggleborns and support you-know-who.

the thought of him sent a ripple effect over your body. fast breathing, heart dropping, hands shaking, his icy cold stare forever embedded into your mind, the feel of his inhuman fingers gripping your shoulder.

"dumbledore told me."

lupin raised his brows, "dumbledore told you. a deatheater."

you winced harshly at the word, the violent reaction causing blood from your broken lip to slide down your chin.

"i'm not a deatheater," you all but sobbed.

the man approached you without fear. probably because your wand was nowhere in sight and you didn't look like you were in a state to punch. he grabbed your arm none too gently and pulled your sleeve back.

the grotesque snake writhing across your skin made you cry out, tugging it back to your chest as you shook your head.

"stop, stop."

you didn't look up at your old professor, afraid to see disappointment. everyone you knew from your old life was either disappointed or terrified now. it made you want to throw up.

it was two days into solitary confinement, during which someone stayed posted outside your door at all times, and the house elf kreacher brought in your food. he seemed to like you, at least. for all the wrong reasons.

two days before dumbledore sent back a letter confirming you were a spy, and it was he who had asked you to become a deatheater in the first place. he made a loose comment on your bravery and said you should be treated with care, as if you had returned to grimmauld place, it likely meant you had been found out.

he was correct.

even though you were allowed to leave your new room now, you didn't. the other order members brought your food now, trying to coax conversation from you, but you did not reciprocate.

over the course of a week, you wrote down everything you'd discovered in your eight months as a deatheater. that information was then passed along, and you didn't try to communicate past that.

everytime you wanted to speak, you could only remember the desperate croak of your voice as you begged a masked deatheater to stop. to stop with his crucio and assorted spells you couldn't even remember.

pathetic. weak. dumb.

"may i come in?"

you recognized this as remus lupin, now, and you said he could. if he heard you or not was a different matter, but he entered the room and cautiously took a seat on the chair before you.

"i apologize for my accusations when you first arrived."

you shrugged. he had to do his job, but that sentence seemed too long to speak without breaking down.

he continued, "what you've done for the order was incredibly brave. you'll never be thanked enough for what you've gone through to get us the intel we have now."

hearing him say that, whether true or not, you had made a difference, you had done something to aid the war efforts, it almost made it seem worth it.

the silence covered the room as you felt your old professor scan you. everyone else had pity rolling off of them in waves when they came to see you. lupin had something else.

"when i was your age, during the first war, i had to go undercover too."

that made you look up, at least. listening.

"i'm sure you're aware by now of my... lycanthropy."

there had been rumours, when he left. you weren't sure they were true at the time.

"dumbledore asked me to go into the ranks of you-know-who's werewolfs. to the root of all my problems, the one who turned me, ones who'd eaten people i knew, the ones who would never touch a drop of wolfsbane because they liked it. they liked the power of being a monster. i lived with them for a year."

tears welled in your eyes. angry tears. how dare dumbledore ask such a thing of professor lupin? how dare he ask such a thing of you?

how dare he?

you pinched the bridge of your nose, "so he's on his third generation of child soldiers."

remus lupin surveyed you warily, and you knew he was questioning your loyalty. he wanted to tell you to trust dumbledore, but how could he do that? how could he do that when you had trusted the man and ended up here?

"dumbledore is a man burdened with too much knowledge-"

you finished his sentence for him, "and not enough empathy?"

lupin sighed, and in true gryffindor manner decided to ask you straight out, "are you still loyal to the order?"

you didn't respond for a moment. initally, you felt the white hot iron of anger squeeze your heart - after what you'd sacrificed, he dared doubt you? then, though, you understood. maybe he thought the deatheaters had slightly entranced you with the notion of selfishness.

but at the end of a day, one subtle tyrant to one unsubtle tyrant, your choice was clear.

you'd follow the one not murdering and torturing, and trying to commit a cleanse of muggles and their magic children.

"do you ask because i'm a slytherin?"

"no. maybe. it's not unreasonable to assume years of isolation from your peers based on your house wouldn't ignite anger. i imagine being branded now won't help that either."

you shrugged, and it sent electrical pain throughout your body, "you're right. but no amount of bullying or intolerance could make me become one of them."

lupin pressed on, "most extremists don't start as extremists, indoctrination works on those made vulnerable by years of separation and abandonment."

"that may be so, but it hasn't happened here and it won't happen here."

he stopped. he was convinced. and a part of him was seething.

"i am sorry for what you went through."

"many people have suffered for the order. i won't be the last."

"someone will."

you understood what he meant. someone will be the last to suffer because you will win the war.

"i see that."

"good."

he gave you space then. but you heard him linger outside your door for a few minutes, and were unsurprised when he re-entered the room.

with a sigh, "you may be right about dumbledore, i don't know. but what i do know is nothing can take away from the bravery of what you did, and nothing can take away from the fact you were part of this war effort, a massive part. you've prevented hundreds of deaths and kidnappings. thank you."

there wasn't much to say, but you hoped he saw your appreciation in your face.

hey little train, wait for me. i once was blind but now i see.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly

#starstruckwillows #marauders #marauders era #hurt/comfort #platonic remus lupin #platonic!remus lupin #x reader #remus lupin x reader #slytherin!reader #spy!reader #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #fluff #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt to comfort #remus lupin htc #htc #paternal!remus lupin #platonic!remus lupin x spy!reader

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