Tumgik
#but tagged correctly so they stay off of it
brsb4hls · 5 months
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Ok, I'm ship neutral, so no ship hate, but I have never seen people absolutely denying reality and facts this hard and as a logic loving person I cannot stand this level of delusion.
Lokius shippers might as well argue the earth is flat in the main tags, that's what it feels like to scroll trough this weirdness.
So it's gonna be this one rant post, correctly tagged of course, to vent and then I'll have to blacklist this tag (which I have never done before with any tag, cause nothing was ever this bad) for my sanity.
Firstly:
Sylki is the canon relationship of the show.
Still, even if they've broken up.
So, if Loki is in love, it's with Sylvie.
That's that Isaac Bauman interview.
It is not in any way confirmation of lokius.
(Oh and the rainbow as a symbol of hope and new beginnings passes over everybodys face. Because Loki gives everyone hope. Rainbows did have symbolic meaning before the creation of the pride flag and by denying that, shippers sound like weird ass Karens claiming the fashion industry is pushing the gay agenda by printing rainbows on kids shirts.)
Now next interview, the Kevin Wright one:
He talks about Sylki as a romantic relationship and how much Loki still cares about her, even if there is no time to focus on that, and mentions that Loki was only able to do what he did 'because he cares about her, he cares about Mobius, more than anyone he's ever cared about.' Both of them!
So shippers actually took a Sylki interview to make it about Lokius.
The 'it's about who': there's an Eric Martin interview, where he explains that losing Sylvie was the last straw for Loki and then he started to control his slipping and it was about all of the people he cared about.
Which is logical, since he can slip if he focuses on a person. If it was about Mobius only, how would he end up in the citadel again.
And Loki does a full turn, then looks at the space where the audience would be, but not directly into the camera. Because it is about everyone in that room. Full turn.
Tom's interviews:
Tom calls both Mobius and Sylvie mirrors in an interview.
He uses 'passionate disagreement' for both of them.
He had to be informed about Lokius, because he wasn't aware of it, but is obvi ship neutral/ positive here, because he's a decent human being. That's still no canon confirmation.
Oh and the scrapped ep 5? There's no way it was simply 'romcom-like', as shippers love to imagine, that would have impressed nobody and Marvel already did that with WandaVision, so it would not have been a 'big conceptual swing.
It was most likely about Loki going back to the New York invasion, which is why B 15 is in 2012. Or slipping further back even.
That would not have fit the tone of the show and blewn the budget, so it got axed.
Now my inner virgo feels better.
I can't stand people spreading misinformation, that has actually nothing to do with shipping, but with my fact-loving self.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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gojo x wife! y/n where megumi slips up and calls y/n mom since she helped raise him and gojo starts thinking about how they would be as parents?
Got ya! Love this request, hope you enjoy <3
Megumi accidentally calling Satoru's wife "mum"
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: basically the request above lol
Warnings: this is pure fluff so enjoy, wrote this on my way to Disneyland so look over any spelling mistakes lol
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul
Megumi always admired your tenderness. Since the day he met you when he was just a kid, you have grown on him like no one else. It seemed like you genuinely cared about him and his sister throughout this entire time, standing up for him when needed while leaving him for rest when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Despite being the longtime girlfriend and now wife of a chaotic person like Gojo Satoru, you never lost your spark, your cool temper, your striking beauty. You are simply always the (y/n) he knows and secretly admires from head to toe. He never truly admitted it, but to him, you are like a mother, one of the most important people in his life, the pivotal point of his decisions.
It shouldn’t have been such a big surprise then when he accidentally called you mom in front of basically everyone.
A brief moment of thoughtlessness in the middle of pure chaos. He didn’t put much thought into his words until they eventually slipped off his tongue with no turning back.
“Can we talk about this later mom?”
Gojo stand right by your side, hand casually placed around your hip like usual when his eyes dart towards Megumi immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Did Megumi-chan just call you “mom”?
“What did you just say, Megumi-chan?”
Fuck fuck fuck. A wave of embarrassment rolls over Megumi immediately, gaze fixed to the ground. He just called you mom. Fuck, he just called you mom! Not only in front of Gojo, but Yuji, Nanami and Nobara. This is bad. Very very bad.
“Megumi…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes immediately.
While you were always keen to give Megumi the best life possible in this cruel world, you never imagined that he’d see you as someone this important in his life. You it’s not always easy, living with Satoru and you. After all, he is the most chaotic person you know while you are the complete opposite of him. It never seemed as if Megumi enjoyed your company this much. While staying with you more than with Satoru, nothing like that ever slipped off his tongue.
But right now, he called you mom. He really called you mom.
“Sorry”, he mumbles, turning away from your widen eyes.
Fuck, how embarrassing. You must think he’s a total freak for saying something like that. Especially given the fact that you and Satoru don’t have any kids yet. Was has gotten into him?
Nanami’s eyes are darted towards him in silence, Nobara and Yuji giggling to themselves while all Megumi is able to do is hiding his blushing face in his uniform. He needs to get away from here. Fast.
Faster than any of you are able to react, he storms out of the room, leaving especially Satoru and you in pure shock.
“I think he really called you mom, darling”, Satoru breathes out.
You wipe your eyes, tears threatening to fall down your eyes.
“I never thought he’d see me like this. It might seem a little stupid, but…Megumi is like a son to me. To know that he feels the same about me is just…so overwhelming…”
Satoru can’t help but admire you. That little blush that creeps up your face, how you smile into yourself like a little child. All these nights you spent by Megumi’s side, caring for him and his sister when sick, having serious conversations with him when he caused trouble.
It dawns to him. You’d be such a good mom. In fact, this is what you already are to Megumi. All this time, Satoru never thought about having his own kids. Still being young, putting you and potential kids in the risk of this cruel world. But seeing you like this, all flustered by Megumi’s innocent words, totally amazed by the word “mum”. Maybe, just maybe…The thought of a baby in your arms crosses his mind, how you hold its tiny hands while humming it to sleep.
“I will look after him”, you announce, fumbling with your hands nervously while everyone around you just stands there bamboozled.
“Hey”, you greet him gently, sitting down beside him on the bench that overlooks the whole area.
His head rests in his hands, gaze fixed on the ground.
“I didn’t mean to say that”, he begins rapidly.
You bring your legs up, hugging them tightly while smiling down at him.
“I don’t have a problem with that at all. It’s just that…I never thought you’d see me as something other than Satoru Gojo’s wife. But I don’t want to interpret too much into it. After all, it was just a slip of your tongue, right? Just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad or something. Don’t worry about it.”
With one gentle rub of his back you get back up, ready to leave when he suddenly grabs your hand.
“This wasn’t an accident. I never got to know my biological mum. And since the day I’ve met Satoru and you, you were always something like a mother to me. I really admire and appreciate you, (y/n).”
Oh. Your eyes begin to water all over again, you can’t help but swallow him with your arms.
“I feel the same, ‘Gumi”, you matter against the crook of his neck, careful not to touch his hair.
“Now now, what’s going on here? Are you stealing my girlfriend, Megumi-chan?” Satoru’s voice suddenly questions from behind, making Megumi jump out of your grasp in an instant.
“You know you have a real talent for ruining someone’s moment, right?”, you comment dryly.
“See you, Megumi.”
With Satoru’s hand holding onto yours tightly, you wander down the way to Jujutsu High. What a precious boy he is. You couldn’t be prouder of Megumi. And knowing that you had such an effect on him…You feel like crying all over again.
“I hope you told them not to make fun of Megumi for saying that”, you break the silence, earning a little chuckle from Satoru.
“Nanami did that for me, don’t worry. What did you talk about earlier?”
“Just wanted to make sure he isn’t embarrassed and that I know it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to put too much thought in. But it seems like he really sees me as something like a…mother figure, I guess.”
“Doesn’t surprise me the slightest.”
Huh? Your eyes dart towards him, feet stopping right in their tracks.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, when he had to draw something, it was always the dogs, you and him. You holding his hand, you cooking, you kicking someone’s ass. Don’t you remember how everyone always thought you are his mother? All those years he looked up to you. It doesn’t surprise me that he sees you as his mum. But I should have seen it sooner, what a great mother you’d be.”
His explanation makes your heart skip a beat. Over the last years, you never lost a word over something like kids or being parents. After all, your situation was clear: you live in a world full of danger and death. No child should have to deal with this right from the start. But the way he looks at you with a warm smile, hand holding onto yours tightly. Does he mean…?
“I don’t know, Megumi’s words made me think about having our own kids.”
“Our own kids?”
You can’t believe your ears. Even though you never admitted it towards Satoru, the thought of having children definitely fills your heart with nothing but joy. And especially his kids…
“You already have been and would be such a great mother. What do you say, (y/n)? Mind if we try it?”
You aren’t able to answer. Instead, you let yourself fall into his already opened arms, giggling like an idiot. A child with Satoru Gojo, the love of your life. Yeah, this doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, this sounds like heaven itself.
“I take this as a yes.”
“I’d love that”, you breathe out, pressing your lips against his longingly.
“You’d be such a great dad. I just know it”, you huff against his mouth, heart jumping up and down in joy.
“Even though I told Nobara and Yuji to make at least a little fun of Megumi-chan?”
“YOU DID WHAT?”
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normansnt · 3 months
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Almost got you, bitch
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(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)
No warnings I think perhaps cursing
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You were a fallen angel.
You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.
When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.
You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??
All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.
*flashback*
Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.
When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.
"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.
Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.
"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.
Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.
"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.
"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.
*end flashback*
"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.
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When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.
"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.
"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."
"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.
"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."
"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.
"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.
"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"
"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"
"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.
"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"
"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"
"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.
"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.
Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.
The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.
Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.
"NO" you yelled
Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.
"(Y/N)...."
He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.
"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.
"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.
"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.
"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.
"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.
"What?" You asked
"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.
"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie
"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.
After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.
It was quite funny to watch.
At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.
Charlie also told his dad to stop.
You stood up from Adams body.
"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.
He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.
"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.
"I Almost got you, bitch"
Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.
"You wish, fucker"
And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.
When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.
"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"
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Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?
Yes.
Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch
Also yes.
BUT YK WHAT.
HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.
HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎
I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡
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cheesit-notes · 9 months
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Abuse of Power
in which Captain Price goes on a fucking power trip over his new recruit, you ♡
tags: MDNI!, power abuse, bdsm, bondage sorta, gags, whips, spanking?, reader giving blowjob as punishment, cum on face, basically Price being a big bully because he has the power to do so
a/n: slight changes to wording, wanna change more but dk what to add you know? hope you guys enjoy this ^^ i don't think reader's gender or any genital body part is specified but i had fem!reader in mind when writing (so watch out for that, pls tell me if there's any)
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you're just a rookie and have so much to learn, it must be soo stressful, yes? don't worry because Captain Price here will guide you all the way. he's your very reliable captain, so trust him won't you?
all those tasks that only you seem to get? the ones that somehow end up with you on his lap or in some odd position that could easily be misinterpreted? don’t worry about it, just listen to him! remember to call him captain or sir when talking to him, he is your superior. he’s teaching you the ropes ‘cause he’s sooo kind. you’ll need what you’ve learned with him later on ;>
monday mornings are now spent on your knees in front of him. you're tied up, hands behind your back, gagged and you have to show him you can break free. oh but the ropes are too thick.. and you can't move... and oww they dig into your skin. it hurts! too bad, Captain Price isn't going to stop practicing this with you until you manage to break free. and even then, more practice doesn’t hurt.
thursday evenings have you half naked, bent over his desk as he whips you. gosh.. you really need to build your pain tolerance, you're a crying, whimpering mess on his desk! how will you handle yourself in case some awful person tortured you for information? Captain Price realizes you need a lot of training, so why don't you come on saturdays too?
oh be careful, don't let your tears spill on the documents... geez, you really had to get the papers soaked, didn't you. guess you need a punishment.
you know how he's always palming himself during your training? well now your punishment is helping him out with that. on your knees, half naked, hands tied behind your back, ropes digging into your skin, and guess what? you're going to stay this way until he says so.
he sits in front of your kneeling body on his office chair. his cock growing harder as he lazily strokes himself. his thumb pressed on your lips telling you to open your mouth, his hand holding the side of your head. he guides you closer until the tip of his cock is touching your lower lip.
Captain Price starts slow, he's pretty lenient about your punishment, at first. but god, he's getting more and more frustrated. you are not doing it correctly. the only thing happening is his cock slipping in and out of your mouth. god, you really are dumb. well, that means he just has to teach you, so listen up. he barks out orders between groans; "suck it, rookie. just fucking- ugh, don't use your teeth" but you're a little slow on understanding his verbal orders so he has to start getting physical.
a hand on the back of your head pushing you to take his cock deeper and deeper, until your nose is in his pubic hair. you're gagging and tears begin forming in your eyes. you look up at him, teary faced and you're moaning around his cock. he grunts out a string of curses before letting you go and cumming all over your pretty face.
he'll take off your restraints, look at the bruises and red markings caused by the ropes, tells you to clean yourself up and go to med bay. how will you even explain the marks? ah, doesn't really matter either way. if they find out, that's fine by Price. he doesn't mind if others see his handiwork.
"... next week, same day, my office, at 5."
"yes sir,"
is all you say, because what else can you do? he is your captain, afterall.
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rapunzelbro · 3 months
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Imagine Lucifer and Adam fighting over you
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I would like to start off by saying sorry in advance. I have no clue about religion, if purgatory is the right term or if I’m understanding this correctly. This was what term showed when I asked in between hell and heaven. If I am not accurate please please correct me. Request: would u do a adam x reader x lucifer where basically there fighting over the reader to try and win them over to be in hell or heaven
Master list Tag request
When you died you never thought you’d end up in fucking purgatory of all things
You did you not want to deal with any of that shit? You just died and now this?
You had the option to follow through on correcting your small sins you had left, or honestly say fuck it and go live your life in hell.
You couldn’t give one less of a fuck but two specific people did and it confused the fuck out of you
Lucifer and Adam
Adam was the first to meet you since you were technically one step in the door but also at the same time not. You appeared at his doorstep practically
He explained a lot of what happened, and why you couldn’t exactly stay in heaven or hell.
He shared the remaining sins that remained for you, and how to get them forgiven,
Bud actually was willing to help someone for once?
Wtf did you do get him to help someone who is not himself? Holy shit
You only had a 4 or so left by the time you found the Hazbin hotel..
Now Lucifer was intrigued by your situation. Not many people got to that state, to his knowledge
He knew a lot about you already to begin with he totally didn’t stalk you and was pissed about the time you spent with Adam
Found out you ended up at the Hazbin hotel, since you had no real space to stay since you could go to heaven if you pleased, but not looked well upon
Charlie told him about the whole situation to try and get his advice on it all since she really didn’t know how to go about it but she desperately wanted to help you
He didn’t want to help you with your final sins though, he wanted you to stay for himself. He would never let his daughter know that.
He spent time with you often encouraging your ass to do stuff that sinners would do but you’re just so stuck on what to do so you often don’t do the things.
Lucifer and you bonded more than you and Adam
Dude just told you constantly about how horrible it sucks down there in hell
Annoyed you even more since he didn’t let you stay in heaven after saying that?
But oh yeah it’s fine because he goes down to see you🥰
What the fuck man
If you ever needed a place to stay Lucifer was always there. Even if you didn’t feel like staying at the hotel
If wanted to talk about the shit you have left to do to get into heaven he will listen
While he didn’t agree with your initial decision to finish your sins, that doesn’t mean he didn’t still care about you regardless of what you end up doing
When you got to your final sin to pass through the gates of heaven, that’s when Lucifer stepped in
“What the actual FUCK are you doing here sinner?”
“Bitch you know why I’m here”
Lucifer and then arguing over your ass while you’re just there chilling like wtf?
“Y/n do you really want to be stuck up there with this douchebag”
“Do you really wanna be with The Most Hated Being in All of Creation!”
Those two screaming at each other while you are just watching the two trying to debate on what you should do
The people of heaven who knew of you, didn’t like you in the slightest because you were never going to be a true angel in their eyes
The people in Hell couldn’t give one less fuck about your situation. You had so many friends down there who you considered practically family now.
Both giving you the most desperate looks both wanting you to go with them
“Lucifer.. I’m going with you”
The second you say that your appearance goes from the weird hybrid you were stuck in to being a full blown demon.
Adam is fucking crushed and pissed sending you two the fuck out insantly
Lucifer is so happy
“Wow you must be a mega turnoff since even all girls like what have to offer more than you~”
Gladly takes you back to his place, he has yet to explain to Charlie that you gave up on redemption.
He doesn’t want to break it to her but knows he will have to soon
But for now you picked him over that bitch and that’s honestly worth it.
Lucifer/All Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations
@aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @mixplara
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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Hallowed
Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k
Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.
Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.
Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.
It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.
She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.
“Michael…” she whines.
He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”
His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”
She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”
“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”
She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”
His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”
“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”
“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”
“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.
“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”
“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”
His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.
“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”
Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.
“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”
The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written. 
They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.
It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.
By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.
Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.
A first.
She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.
“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.
“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”
“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.
“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.
She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.
“Come here,” he commands softly.
She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.
“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”
He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.
His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.
She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.
His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.
She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.
He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.
“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”
She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.
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sugarnspice630 · 6 months
Text
Dark Room - Wooyoung
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"Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore."
•pairing: photographer!wooyoung x fem!photographer!reader
•word count: 1.9k
•tags: mdni, nonidol, dark room sex, wooyoung and reader are photographers, sensory deprivation(?), praise, fingering, wooyoung and reader have secretly liked each other for a long time, dirty talk, slight choking, ...did I miss anything?
Summary: Wooyoung and you work late shift at a photography studio and things gets a little risque in the dark room.
A/N: Inspired by my job honestly. Had this fantasy while working late one day and thought..mm yes Wooyoung would do this. I would like to preface that the dark room where I work is NOT the traditional, red lit, dark room. It's literally pitch black when you shut the door. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆───
“Ah shit,” You curse out as you see the message on one of the printer computers. “Wooyoung, can you grab a Color Developer chemical for me? I need to change paper real quick, and my hands are kinda full!” Softly shouting from across the studio in hopes he could hear you from his desk.
“Yeah, I got it Y/N!” 
“Awesome! Thank you!”
Both you and Wooyoung have been working the late shift at your photography job for a couple weeks now. You’ve been behind on processing orders because you were understaffed or everyone else had kids to take care of and had to be home by a certain time. This year has been crazy for school and sports pictures; taking on more schools and leagues, needing to train the new hires that only stay about a month and then leave, managing two printers that constantly need either paper changed or chemicals added to the bins, or the printer deciding to eat the photographs, causing you to have to reprint them—it was hell. You and Wooyoung however, were the perfect combination to take on night shifts! Naturally being night owls, not having kids to take care of, and working well together, you got more done than anyone else in the office could from their 7-3 shift. Hell, for the amount of work you do, you should be getting a raise or double pay, but alas, your boss doesn’t think that way. 
Taking the empty paper cartridge back to the dark room, you snuck back out and browsed the shelf for the correct roll of paper, grabbing it before you turned around. You snuck a glance at Wooyoung grabbing the chemical off the shelf just down the hall. You shot him a quick smile before going into the room. Setting the paper down on the ground and moving the chair close to the wall so you could get a feel of your surroundings before entering complete darkness. The seal on the door wasn’t the best, so slamming it was the only way to ensure no light would get into the room. You flipped the lightswitch off and sat down in the chair.
While opening the paper case, you couldn’t help but think of the way Wooyoung’s long, black hair framed his face perfectly, when his bangs would occasionally get in his eyes, and the way he would tossle his head to move the pieces out of his way. Sometimes, when it was hot outside on a sports shoot, he would tie it up into a cute ponytail with such ease. The way he interacted with kids while on shoots, seeing his childlike nature come out and the kids getting along with him, was great. It absolutely melted your heart to see him so good with the kids. Always getting the best smiles out of them and staying on schedule while making the kids feel comfortable. On the opposite side of the spectrum, he really knew how to run the show. The way his voice commanded all the other employees on the job, telling them exactly what to do and making sure they were doing everything correctly. He hated to see people getting yelled at for taking “bad” photographs, but really it’s just the head photographer having a stick up his ass and being hard on everyone else while he does the same level of work, so he just wanted to make sure he appeased everyone. 
Being in your own head, thinking about Wooyoung while changing the paper, you hear three knocks on the door.
“Helloooo? Y/N? You alright in there? Did you get swallowed by the dark abyss?” Wooyoung’s voice rang out from the other side.
“Shit.” You mutter to yourself. “N-No Wooyoung, I’m fine and perfectly alive! I just uh..had trouble closing the…lid.” You faked slamming the “lid” shut to make your statement seem believable.
“Oh gotcha, yeah, that thing is a bitch sometimes. Well, could you hurry up? I haven’t been able to finish the chemical cause I have to grab water and well uh…you’re in the room with the sink.”
“Oh right! Sorry!” You scrambled to clean the area up, almost forgetting there is a giant box in front of you and hitting your foot against the top of it, causing you to almost fall forward onto the door handle, but you caught your balance just in time. You pick up the cartridge and set it on the chair you were just sitting in to make room to open the door. You grabbed the handle, slowly turned it, and pulled the door towards you, hoping not to scare Wooyoung. You peaked your head around the side of the door and smiled.
“She’s all your’s~!” You stepped into the light and looked at Wooyoung to see his hands were empty and not carrying the water jugs. Your eyebrows contorted. “Uh.. your hands are empt-.” Your words were cut off by Wooyoung pushing you back into the room, grabbing the door from your hands, and slamming it behind him. The darkness of the room settled in, and you felt uneasy, not knowing where Wooyoung was. “W-Woo?”
“I’m right here~.” He said lowly and you felt his breath against the side of your neck. His hands softly trailing down your side and stopping right above your waist.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You protested and tried to squirm your way out of his grasp. His grasp on you only tightened as he had no intention of letting you go.
“Y/N I can’t help myself. Ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore.” You felt your cheeks get hot and your thighs clench together. Did he really think about you this way?
“W-Wooyoung..” Your voice trailed off, not knowing how to feel about his confession.
“I think about you every night before I go to bed. Perhaps in ways that I…shouldn’t, but you’re just so beautiful.” Wooyoung brushes the stray hairs off your face and tucks them behind your ear. His breath feels warm against you and sends chills down your spine. You feel Wooyoung lean closer to you and his lips are right against your ear. “I touch myself to the thought of you. My name coming out of those precious lips of yours. I want you so bad Y/N. Please.” 
“Fuck.” You mutter softly. His hands playfully sliding up and down your waist. You couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of Wooyoung thinking about you this way. 
“If I may have your permission, Y/N.” You softly nodded your head, allowing him to touch you in whatever way he wanted to. “I can’t see you love; I need you to use your words for me.”
“Y-yes Wooyoung…please.” You beg, and not a moment later, Wooyoung is kissing down your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin, causing you to groan. You tilt your head back so it is resting on his right shoulder. The feeling of his lips against your neck is intoxicating and you couldn’t get enough. He continues to kiss and suck at your neck, making sure to mark you up nice and pretty. A few kisses later, he grabs your hips, giving you a heads-up.
“Turn around baby.” His hands allow you to spin in place, not leaving your side and once you are fully turned around, he places them back onto your hips and you feel him lean into you again. Your lips search for his through the darkness, bumping into his cheek accidentally, and you let out a soft giggle. Soon your lips meet and you are passionately making out in the dark. His hands continue to feel up and down your body, one hand snaking its way to your ass and he grips it harshly. A soft moan leaves your mouth into the kiss. You feel Wooyoung’s lips form a smirk and he continues to grip onto your ass.
“You like that, huh?”
“Fuck, y-yes I do~.” You pant out, slightly out of breath. Wooyoung’s other hand, not playing with your ass, begins to toy its way down your waistband and slips through down to your underwear. His fingers tease the wet patch in your underwear that has been forming since he slammed the door, causing you to moan and tilt your head back against the door.
“So wet for me already babygirl~. You’ve wanted this to happen for a while, haven’t you?” You can only moan in response, his fingers pressing into you and you hear Wooyoung groan softly, his hips rutting against your thigh as he fingers you. “Making me so…fuck…fucking hard.” 
“Woo..p-please stop teasing m-me. I need you.”
“As you wish~.” He wastes no time pushing your underwear to the side and slipping his fingers inside you.
“Fuck!” You cry out. His fingers stretching you more than your own or any toy ever has. You bite your lip and grind against his hand.
“H-Holy shit you do need me.” He chuckles at your body reacting this way to him. You’re absolutely driving him insane. “Wish I could see that pretty face of yours. Watch your face as I fuck you nice and good with my fingers.”
“W-Wooyoung~.” The dirty talk was getting you to your climax faster than you thought. His voice ringing through your ear like a melody you wanted to listen to on repeat forever.
“Fuck Y/N, you’re taking them so well.” You can’t see his face, but the way that sentence came out sounded like he was gritting his teeth together. You could feel your head spinning and you knew you were close to your release.
“Wooyoung, I-.” Your words are cut off by a moan slipping from your throat. “I need your hand on my neck.”
“Ho hoh~ kinky are we~? I always knew you were a whore.” Wooyoung quickly takes the hand that was playing with your ass and grabs your neck—not too hard, applying just enough pressure that you were seeing static.
“Y-Yes! Just like that.” You manage to choke out and feel the knot forming in your stomach. Your pussy clenches around Wooyoung’s fingers.
“Want you to cum on my fingers princess. I know you can do it.” Wooyoung’s demanding encouragement was all you needed to hear for the knot in your stomach to release. Wooyoung’s grip on your neck lessens, and a string of curses mixed with his name come out of your mouth. "Fuck, you sound so beautiful. Exactly how I pictured it.” Wooyoung pulls his hand out of your pants and kisses your lips gently.
“W-Wooyoung~.” Your voice is no louder than a whisper.
“Sshhh sh sh darling, I know~. Take your time recovering.” Wooyoung caresses the side of your face and wraps his other hand around your waist. He gently moves you out of the way and opens the door slowly, letting the light from the hallway come in, and you squint your eyes from being in the dark for so long. Wooyoung turns around and looks at you. "Fuck, you’re gorgeous even after your insides get rearranged by my hand.” You softly chuckle at his remark and lift your hand to swat at his shoulder.
“Not my fault; you know your way around~.”
“Guess working these late shifts together helped me get to know you better~.” A soft smile forms on his face. You feel yourself blush, and you shy away from looking at him. “Come on. Let’s get back to business.” He offers his hand for you to grab and you gladly take it. He walks you out of the room and down the hallway into the main area of the building.
“So…you working tomorrow~?” You ask playfully.
“I most definitely will be if you’re here.”
“Always.”
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
Note
Getting this off my chest:
Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.
I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.
And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…
I am beyond confused here.
Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???
This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?
It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)
Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.
Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.
--
Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.
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1-800-c3dr1c · 5 months
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Sooo, let's try this ask thing haha. I was wondering if u cute write a super fluff where reader is friends with coryo and tigris and they let reader into the secret that they've almost got no food at home. Reader then brings them food or invites them over regularly and coriolanus is super thankful + embarrassed at the same time and reader assures him that its alright and happy to help and over time they both confess they like each other more than just friends?
YOUNG! CORIOLANUS SNOW FLUFF ONESHOT.
spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes. spoilers for coriolanus’ backstory. gender-neutral reader. friends with mutuals feelings to lovers.
requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in m tag list for whenever i post anything related to young! coriolanus snow under this post as well, or in my inbox.
i hope you liked this oneshot! i love love LOVE writing fluff, so thank you so much for requesting it!!
word count: 541
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it had surprised you when one of your best friends, coriolanus snow, had asked you if he could tell you a secret. he nearly pleaded with you not to tell anyone else about it before he did, and when you promised over and over again that you wouldn’t, he finally took you to his house.
due to his family having been very popular and seemingly well-liked back during the war, this had been a stark contrast to what you had been expecting. he lived with tigris and his grandma’am, which you had known. however, what you hadn’t known was the fact that his fridge was nearly empty every single night, if not completely empty.
it was as if tigris had known you were coming, based upon the solemn expression she wore when you and coriolanus walked through the door. she could only smile sadly at you, and you could only walk over to her and place your hand on her shoulder, quietly reassuring her and coriolanus that you would help them.
and you did. you consistently invited them (including the grandma’am) to your house for dinner, making them delicious food and making sure that all three of them were well-fed. they would always profusely thank you, unable to do much else. sometimes, the grandma’am would slip a white rose behind your ear when you walked them to the door after dinner, and it always made you smile softly.
until that changed. one day, it hadn’t been the grandma’am to step forward again to slip a rose behind your ear as you had expected. it was coriolanus. you blinked at him, unspeaking as he carefully caught your chin with two fingers, angling your head slightly so that it was easier for him to slip the rose right behind your ear.
you didn’t move as he stepped back, looking behind him at tigris and the grandma’am. they both nodded to him before beginning to walk off, whereas he stayed right in front of you, just a few steps away. he swallowed thickly, and suddenly you could see how.. nervous he seemed to be?
“i have something to tell you,” he blurted out, his face flushing slightly in embarrassment.
“hm? what’s wrong, corio?” you asked softly. “are you guys running low on food again? i can start making more-” you started to say quickly, before he quickly cupped your cheek with a hand.
“that’s not what i wanted to talk about.” his voice was quiet, his nerves seeping through the words.
“..then what did you want to talk about?” now you were confused.
“i told you i had something to tell you. well.. i’m just going to outright say it. i like you.” he inhaled deeply, and it looked as if he was preparing himself for a rejection.
however, the opposite happened. you leaned forward, kissing his cheek softly. “i like you too, corio.”
coriolanus froze where he was. had he just heard you correctly? you liked him too. a sudden giddy feeling erupted in his stomach, a stupid smile on his face. “can i..”
he didn’t finish his question, as you kissed him softly, already knowing that had been what he wanted to ask. before you pulled away, you whispered a soft. “yes.”
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nilefreemans · 18 days
Text
literally just typed this on my phone without my glasses, but here is a quick bucktommy thing featuring Tommy's cat and Buck's curls
...
They're lazing on the coach on a day they both have off when Tommy notices it.
The TV is on, some HGTV show that Buck likes to watch because he actually has an appreciation for design that Tommy can't relate to, but doesn't mind watching if it's what Buck likes to watch. He's not paying attention to it, instead he's paying attention to Buck as he rants on about an article he read about deep sea diving, and how Buck's whole person seems to grow with passion as he gets deeper into the topic.
Buck's head is rested on Tommy's lap, his body stretched out on the rest of the couch with his feet hanging off the side because the couch is too small for two men their size to fully spread out. He doesn't complain though, and Tommy feels warmed by how domestic everything feels.
It's nice having Buck in his space.
Kira is on the back of the couch in her usual spot, sleeping softly. She purrs on occasion when Buck will randomly reach out and pet her and Tommy likes how easy Buck has slotted himself into Tommy's life. It helps that Buck spoils Tommy's cat as much as he does.
As Buck is scratching behind Kira's fluffy ears, Tommy is doing the same with Buck. His fingers card through Buck's hair, occasionally applying pressure to massage his scalp. Buck has mentioned before how much he likes it, and Tommy had teased that he was just like Kira and Buck didn't deny it. He was tactile and enjoyed the simple intimacy, and Tommy really couldn't deny Buck that. Especially when Buck would look up at him with a dopey smile.
His fingers catch slightly and Tommy looks down and realizes that a lock of Buck's hair is curling around one of Tommy's fingers.
Buck stops his speech about megamouth sharks and squints up at Tommy, trying to figure out why his boyfriend had stopped petting through his hair.
"My hairstylist is taking two months off," Buck bemoans, correctly guessing why Tommy had stopped. "I dont really trust anyone else to cut my hair so you're going to be dealing with a shaggy boyfriend till she gets back."
"I like curls," Tommy blurts out afterwards. He flushes slightly, his fingers still in Buck's hair. All he can think about is what Buck's hair might look like a few weeks from now, how his hair will look curled around his strong features.
Tommy thinks about how good the soft strands will feel when he runs his fingers through it-
How good it might feel to grip-
"You don't seem sympathetic to my hair woes." Buck teases with a soft laugh, taking Tommy away from his thoughts about Buck and his hair. It's then that Tommy realizes his grip had tightened on Buck's hair ever so slightly.
"Maybe it's not the worst thing," Tommy starts carefully, as he leans down and kisses the teasing smile from Buck's face.
"Maybe not," Buck concedes and if he moans when Tommy tugs at his hair as their kisses, that stays between him and Tommy.
Meanwhile, Kira just jumps off the top of the coach and moves to a different room. She knows when her human needs space.
tagging- @tommykinrd @tommy-evan @buckttommy @lesbiankinard
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markster666 · 3 months
Text
KINKTOBER (Except in February) - ALASTOR X READER - DAY #14 (Roleplay)
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Kinktober, One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, smut with a little plot, pet names, Dom!Alastor, Sub!Reader, breeding, comedy, roleplay, Alastor is the pizza guy, yes you read that correctly..., etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 853
A/N: I really do not know what to do for this one but part of me REALLY wanted to make this partially comedic SO LMFAOOO I CANT STOP LAUGHING IM SORRY LOL Enjoy! I put some more effort into this one than most of the other ones. MDNI, please. Not edited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. NSFW under the cut.
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You were laying stomach down on the couch in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, your feet kicking in the air while typing away at your phone, texting your friends and scrolling through social media. You had on a silky black nightgown and your hair was put up in a claw clip. You had just taken an "everything shower" and finally were settling in for the night.
Until you heard a knock on the front entrance doors. You looked up, pretending to be puzzled. You glanced at the clock on the wall, which read close to midnight. Who could POSSIBLY be knocking on those doors at THIS hour?
You slumped off the couch and strutted your way towards the front doors. You pushed your front hairs out of the way as you slowly opened the front door, leaning against the door frame in the most seductive way you can.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"Yes my Dear, um... Pizza for Y/N?"
Alastor was standing there in a stereotypical pizza bus boy shirt and dress pants. You can't even recall the last time you saw Alastor without at LEAST long sleeve. He had a large pizza box in his hands, which you both knew didn't actually have any pizza in it, and he was wearing a snapback cap with a random pizza place's logo on it.
We'll just go with Pizza Hut.
You raised your eyebrow at him, a little smirk forming on your face. You can tell he was embarassed to be wearing what he was wearing, ears pinned to the sides of his head and his eyes darting around making sure nobody was around the two of you. You almost couldn't contain your laughter but you suppressed it down as well as you could.
You tried to sound as sexy and seductive as you could and your eyes gazed up and down his body.
"Oh my goodness, Sir, thank you so much! Let me grab my wallet real quick."
You pulled out your wallet from your nightgown pocket and started swiping through it. You didn't have any cash (shocker).
"Um... Sir, I don't appear to have cash on me. Do you take card?"
He gave you a faux sympathetic look and shook his head.
"I'm afraid not, my Dear, cash only."
You sighed and rubbed your temples to think. You both knew where this was going already but you tried to play the part as well as you could.
"Well... is there anyway else I can repay you?"
Alastor pretended to think for a second before throwing the pizza box on the ground and grabbing you by the throat, forcing you back into the hotel and slamming the doors shut behind him, pinning you to the wall next to the doors. He took off the snapback cap and threw it super far away.
His lips crashed into yours needily, drinking up your saliva. He removed himself from your mouth, his hand still locked around your throat. His ears were still pinned to his side, trying his best to stay serious to play the role.
"THIS is how you can repay me, my Dear."
He spun you around and quickly freed his cock from his pants. With one hand, he forced your head against the wall and with his other hand, he rode your nightgown up to expose every part of you. He then gripped your hips so you were more bent over for him and proceeded to shove his entire length inside your walls.
You moaned out at the sudden sensation of feeling full. You could tell that his cock was throbbing inside of his pants for awhile before all of this, feeling the wet stain of his pants every time his skin collided with yours. You whimpered at how rough he was pounding you.
He removed his hand pushing your head against the wall and instead gripped your thighs, digging his claws into them as he continued his assault on you. You were a moaning whimpering mess and he was partially angry you made him roleplay LOL.
This went on for a longgg while, until finally, you both felt yourself reaching your climaxes. Your moans got louder and louder and he wrapped his hand around your throat, bringing you up against his chest and whispering sweet little nothings in your ear.
"Such a good girl for me... cum for me my little fawn."
THAT did it for you. You felt the rubber band snap in your stomach, a warm sensation filling your senses and seeing stars. As you rode out your orgasm, he rode out his, releasing his seed inside of you and coating your insides. You both stayed like that for awhile, trying to catch your breathes, before he pulled out of you and put his cock back in his pants, rubbing himself off.
He then gave you a kiss on the temple before turning away and walking out the front doors.
"Thank you for your business my Dear! My name is Alastor, and if you could leave me 5 stars on Yelp then I would be eternally grateful!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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201 notes · View notes
noroi1000 · 11 months
Note
Hi! It's me ...again hahaha.
I hope you're ok, I'm really glad see your updates again.
I see you have open request and I want to try it. I'm in love with werewolf Suguru...what about a mating and heat cycle with his lovely mate? And jelousy scene because other werewolf it's just nice with Y/N, not in romantic way, just being nice.
Basically shameless smut. Hahaha I'm really sorry if it's uncomfortable for you, my apologies. But I'm in ovulation week so... I'm just hot v: and I love Suguru so much.
Really my apologies if it's make you uncomfortable.
Please stay healthy and have a lovely week!!good luck in school!!
I'm in heat
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•°-Shameless smut-°• +18
Werewolf Geto in heat cycle x mate reader
NSFW: breeding, rut, pussy eating, possessive sex, knot fucking, marking
Words:3k
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His body was sweaty when you touched him. And he just woke up. Was he too hot at night?
Maybe werewolves have different temperature needs?
After all, werewolves stand out even in appearance from other people.
For example, your partner and his best friend. And others too.
If he has any other temperature needs, why aren't you informed? You are his mate!
"Suguru? Are you too hot?" you asked, rubbing his bare back gently.
He was sweating.
"Hot..." he muttered as he sat on the bed with his back to you. "I'm going to take a cold shower."
"Are you okay?” you asked, placing your hand on his muscles. You ran your fingers over his skin, gently scratching his back because he liked it.
His low ponytail lay loose on his back.
He turned his head to the side to look at you.
You smiled slightly at him. Your hair in a mess as your soft thighs were clearly accentuated by the fact that the sleeping shorts he bought you were really short.
A camisole hugged your breasts and one strap fell off your shoulder.
He forgot he started the heat cycle today...
Why did he forget again...
Last time he lied to you that he was going to another city for a few days. And at the time he was in his apartment trying to survive his heat.
Since he's with you, his heat comes on so intensely. That's what happens when you have a partner.
You have been his mate for two months, but the first month you managed to avoid his several-day rut.
Last month, because he didn't want to hurt you, he went on a trip to wait it out.
And this month? He can't... He can't come up with an excuse to go anywhere.
In addition, your smell intensifies what is happening in his body.
Your neck looks so pretty and appetizing. Bite that spot and tag you again. Just like he did for the first time during sex. However, he didn't have a heat cycle back then. So he could control himself.
And now he knew it wouldn't work.
Your appearance was so striking to his eyes. His pupils dilated so much, swallowing the violet in his eyes.
My heart sped up. His body was so eager to pounce on you, and mark his mate again. To cover you with its scent. To mark yourself as his.
Your scent entered his nostrils, and he thought he was drooling.
Your scent so intense and sweet.
He failed to calculate everything correctly.
Because you also ovulated.
His body reacted to his partner's body.
That's why his heat kicked off very intensely because your heats were in sync.
Damn werewolf body...
His body lines up with your cycle only to impregnate you at your most fertile time.
And since your cycles were close in time, his body aligned itself with yours.
Your scent signaled it to him.
Because every werewolf in heat would like to have a sweet and fertile mate under him that he can breed so much.
That's why werewolves are so flexible about this sort of thing.
And since you are his mate, his body has become so used to you. Now his heat will always be when you ovulate.
A partner for life...
However, your rut synchronized very quickly.
And because he lives with you, and is beside you daily, he will no longer escape your cycles.
Although werewolf cycles run much more intensely than human ones.
Because if you were a werewolf too, and you were in heat, you'd be jumping on him to breed you by now. Especially if you felt he was in heat too.
The longer you've been with a werewolf as a human, the more you'll get used to the pheromones he gives off.
And as your body gets used to it, your body will respond.
You will be like his little partner.
You may not react as much to the smell, but it will be stronger for you than it is now.
His mind veered very quickly to think about how you'd be moaning when you asked him to come inside you.
„My Alpha... Please..."
"I want you now... Please... Breed me..."
He would love to hear his mate beg him for it.
If so, he'll probably jump on you in a few days anyway and fuck you into oblivion when your smell becomes unbearable to him.
As his hormones take possession of his body.
When all he has in mind is how soft your thighs look. Same with breasts.
He will only think about stroking that soft pussy and listening to you purr for him.
To put his cock in your tiny tight hole and stretch his shape inside you.
Because there is no werewolf who does not think about having sex with a partner during the heat as if the world was about to end.
He thought of it at first as something that's probably not pleasant, because you only think about sex and you only want sex.
But when he experiences it, he feels how pleasant it is. So very pleasant.
Even though he feels an irresistible urge to strip you now and fuck you until you're dripping with his scent. His body tells him to put his puppies inside you.
"Are you okay?" You asked him, hugging him lightly.
Your slightest touch made him feel like you were only touching his cock.
He was more sensitive. Your tiny touch was so pleasant to him.
It made him want more of that touch.
The lower your hands were, the more he felt pleasant shivers as your scent also reached his nose stronger.
You may not notice that right now his pheromones are attacking your body to show you that your alpha wants you now, but you clearly felt something between your legs. Your neck was a little irritating where he last bit you.
Your cute body, even if you're a human, next to him, which is a powerful alpha, you too can very easily start to act like a little omega.
Werewolves are not much different from humans.
Its pheromones act as an aphrodisiac for you.
A few more months or a year and you will be like his little omega when his pheromones get you.
"Sugu... Don't ignore me... Are you okay?"
"I'm fine..." He replied with a small smile.
His hand reached for his erection that had formed in his sweatpants.
It was so hot... Outside and inside.
He wanted your warmth to soothe his warmth.
Do what his body wants.
Mark you and breed you.
"Really? You're sweating." You said.
"I'm just in heat." He laughed as if it was something to joke about.
The heat cycle has never been something to laugh at, especially between partners.
Because heat for partners is endless sex for almost several days.
"Heat?" you murmured. "Oh, rut yes?"
"Yep." he laughed.
He really wanted to laugh about it, because maybe you will laugh about it too?
"Are you... are you..." you pulled away from him blushing.
Everyone had biology in school.
Everyone knows that rut is the period when creatures reproduce.
You sat behind him with your knees bent on one side of your body.
You felt warmth between your legs and also on your cheeks.
You feel the sexy heat emanating from his. His scent is so erotic.
Well, you ovulated. Maybe that's why you found it sexy that he was sitting next to you shirtless...
But you felt something pulling you towards Him.
Is it because he's in heat as a werewolf?
"Do I what?" he asked with a smile. Roses on his cheeks.
Not because he was ashamed.
Only his blood flow is so fast that his skin is pink.
Blood flowing to his crotch.
The veins on his body are starting to become more visible.
"Do you want to... you know..." You muttered rubbing your hand over your thigh.
"Haha... I look like I don't want to?"
Suddenly, he turned completely sideways to you, and showed you the taut muscles of his torso, as well as his taut pants underneath which his hard erection stands, waiting for his partner's touch.
Your face was red when you saw it.
But you couldn't help the fact that the sight of him so lecherously made you feel wet between your legs.
"So I'm going to take a shower. I need to get some rest." He said as he stood up.
"Suguru." you called him.
Your finger between your teeth as you briefly wonder if this is a good idea.
He told you that werewolf heat is no small thing. Because it lasts almost up to one week, and it's an intense period, both for the body and for the emotions. Because it's thinking about your partner and about sex all the time. Taking care of your partner and sex. And then there are the periods of possessiveness. The alpha partner does everything to keep the omega partner with him. In your case, you are the omega partner and Suguru the alpha. And that means he'll be jealous of everything for a few days, he'll be so needy of touch, he'll drive any other "alpha" away from his mate, and will always be somewhere with you to take care of you. And every day he'll think about pinning you under him and fucking you.
What will your few days look like?
You've been his girlfriend for a long time, but you've been his "mate" for over two months.
Which means he just tagged you as his lifelong partner recently. Even though he already felt you as a potential mate he would love to have. But he preferred to wait for your permission so he could mark you as his.
Since you've agreed to be the alpha werewolf's mate, you must attend to his needs.
Besides, if his estrus affects you like that when you're ovulating, you can't ignore it.
He was looking at you, waiting for what you would say.
He was so hard to control himself not to throw himself at you now. You were so lovely.
So fertile~.
He could very easily keep you in bed and mean so much. Shove his cum inside you.
However, this will be your first time together when his heat reacts to his partner. This will be your first time with him so wild.
Even more than it was every time you had sex.
There's also a chance you'll say no and he'll spend a few days fucking his hand...
The heat cycle activates when the werewolf gets a mate.
There is always rut.
But the heat comes when you have a partner.
Once a month.
His heat is here because you are in heat.
So he's in heat, his heat, because he's feeling your body.
Theoretically, alphas don't have the same as omegas that get heat and wait for their partner.
Alphas have an estrus once a month, which is simply associated with a great desire for sex.
But when the alpha heat synchronizes with the heat omega, then it's like heat. That's why he is like this now.
Alphas go crazy when they feel their partner is fertile and willing.
Just as internally there is a war within him. Control yourself and also pounce on you.
His body wants to pounce on you, but his wits stop him because this would be your first time he's like this.
During estrus, alphas are more brutal, but not so much as to hurt their partner.
He's more like a hungry animal.
You let him once, and he'll be like this for a month.
When he knows your body can handle it.
And he knows your body will last forever.
"Come, if you want..." you said spreading your arms. By inviting him to you.
Your face was red as you looked to the side.
You still knew his dick was stuck in his pants so tight.
"Are you sure?" He asked. "Once you agree, there's no going back."
"I'm your mate... right?"
"Are you not afraid?" He asked smiling as he knelt in front of you on the bed.
"Why should I be afraid of you?"
"I'm unpredictable at a time like this. You don't know what I would love to do right now."
"My partner won't hurt me. After all, a partner never wants to do anything bad for a mate, right?"
His body suddenly towered over you, his fingers digging into the softness of your thighs.
His lips were immediately pressed against your throat.
He ripped your shorts off your legs, doing it with your panties. They landed in tatters on the floor.
As his fingers dug into your pussy without warning, stretching you.
A sweet scent reached his nose, and he felt his cock throbbing in his pants.
Keeping his fingers inside you in one place, he felt your soft, hot walls tighten around his fingers.
Moisture trickled down his palm as he pressed the palm of his hand against your clit.
Your body really reacts so sweetly to his estrus. And your rut is so beautiful. That nice smell.
He moved his mouth to the side of your neck and sank his teeth in.
He groaned at the sweet scent that enveloped his sense of smell.
He unconsciously moved his fingers inside you lightly, massaging your g-spot. Listening to your sweet moans as he didn't stop.
He felt like he could come just by listening to your noises.
His mind was clouded by his instincts, so he was surprised when more of your juices spilled onto his hand moments later. And your walls squeezed his fingers.
With a wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of you, feeling the one thigh he was holding shake.
He put his wet fingers to his lips and licked everything clean, savoring the taste of his mate.
He wanted more.
Without warning, he dived between your legs and began to lap up your folds aggressively.
Your legs jumped in susceptibility to the sudden attack.
"S-Suguru...!" You groaned as you grabbed his hair.
Causing a pleasant burning sensation in his head.
It was so good.
His hand reached for his cock, stroking it, keeping his hand under his pants.
His hips moved on their own, swaying his length in between his fingers.
You saw the very lascivious sight of his tongue leaving your pussy, with a thin line of sticky fluid connecting your sensitive body to his wet muscle.
His fingers tightened around its broad base.
His long fangs began to bite your thigh, savoring the softness of his mouth.
"I can't hold back anymore." He said in an intense voice.
The purple of his eyes was completely devoured by his dilated pupil.
You didn't want him to hold back.
Since you were his mate, you had to do everything for him to help him with his rut.
He's so crazy about how cute you are. How much you got his attention with your body and smell. Because your ovulation was showing him how willing and tasty you are.
Your short shorts digging into the fat of your soft thighs. Ah... That was all that made him go crazy right away.
He stood up, hastily lowering his pants.
If he took it off, it would take too long. He wanted to be in his tight mate right now. Feel yourself sucking it inside. Feel how nicely you take all of him, trying to contain every inch of him.
To watch later as his wick spreads inside you, ensuring not a drop of his cum comes out of you.
You saw a furious red tip that cried a lot of precum. Pulsating thick shaft. Certainly long and thick enough to destroy your pussy.
Especially since you know who that heavy dick belongs to.
As he quickly moved closer to you, he tore off your shirt with his hand. You felt him pull on the fabric and then suddenly your chest was exposed to him. Your nipples are stiff from everything he does to you.
With a sigh, he immediately placed his mouth on your tit, biting your nipple lightly with his sharper teeth.
His hips thrust blindly into yours and your wetness running down your skin very quickly led him to your willing hole, which greeted him with a very pleasant hug.
He didn't even have to enter you slowly because your walls offered no resistance whatsoever. Letting him find the bottom right away. His balls pressed tightly against you.
Its tip was releasing precum inside you to facilitate the breeding process, but that wasn't necessary at all because you were dripping.
His hips quickly settled into the rhythm of hitting you. His pubic bone was pressed against your clit, and his pubic hair gave an extra prickly and soft touching sensation as he thrust into you.
He was in a hurry, chasing to fill you up.
He didn't try to make you moan the loudest, he didn't change the rhythm. Because he just wanted to fill you up.
Every move he made made your body squirm. Waves of quivering pleasure ran down your spine.
His lips reached for yours, catching your tongue to kiss you deeply.
He caught all your moans that came out of your mouth like music.
As he felt your moans increase, he didn't slow down. You felt his knot slowly forming, a sign of his forming orgasm.
Your pussy was getting more and more stretched. But the pinching disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
Particularly when his knot brushed against your g-spot, pressing it hard you clenched his entire cock. Feeling that way, his body squeezes your clit between your bodies.
Your head throbbed as he bit your neck, inhaling the ethereal scent.
Sucking your pussy as well as the feeling of you stretching around his knot made him shoot copious amounts of cum into you.
Your legs trembled around his hips as his dick extension ensured nothing would leak out of you.
But at some point he pulled out of you and your pussy spat out a wider chunk of his flesh with a loud sound.
But what is it supposed to be? Why isn't he soft?
Is that how his rut ​​works?
Why did you have to be in the heat?
"S-Sugu... How long is your rut...?" You asked quietly, breathing to calm yourself down.
He chuckled briefly with a heavy breath before thrusting into you again.
"Five days." He whispered against your lips before kissing you.
____
"Wow, Suguru, I know you can have rut or whatever now, but don't be so aggressive towards me. I'm not going to take your mate." Laughed the White-haired man with whom you were talking a moment ago.
Your alpha wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him.
His nose rested on your shoulder, inhaling your scent, mixed with his.
"I'm not taking your partner. Even though she smells pretty sweet. She's not an omega, is she? Is she human?" he asked with a smile. "(y/n), how long will he keep doing this?"
"A bit more. Sugu, do you want to go home?" You asked, stroking his head.
You moaned as he squeezed you tighter.
"Fine... Sorry (y/n), we'll talk when his rut ​​is over, okay?" Your friend waved to you.
"Bye." You waved at him. "Suguru what's up?"
"He's a werewolf too..." he said kissing your neck.
"But we are friends."
"He is the alpha. And you are my omega."
"I guess you're too used to be a werewolf." You laughed quietly. "I'm a human, not an omega werewolf."
Suddenly his tongue licked your ear.
"But you are my omega partner~. And as an alpha partner, I want my mate for me. That's why I will mark you."
1K notes · View notes
fairlyang · 4 months
Text
Easy money II 🕷️
asked to do yet another shoot but with a plot twist
w/c: 2.4K
pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. teasing, making out, handjob, blowjob
part one — part three
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Two weeks had passed and it was almost as if that shoot never happened.
We both went back to normal, only talking when we walked past each other or offered each other dinner.
But besides that it'd be fairly quiet.
Well obviously besides when he'd bring other girls over for more shoots.
Almost every. damn. night.
It drove me insane because I kinda wanted to do another with him but wasn't sure how to ask or offer myself up.
So instead I dealt with the fact that I'd probably not get another chance and just listened to him at work every night with my toys between my legs because I couldn't help myself and I was growing more jealous with every new girl he'd bring in.
I just wanted him to fuck me like he'd fuck them-
Or even suck him off.
But alas it looked like that wasn't gonna happen so I lost all hope until I got a notification from my bank that left me thinking I was dreaming. Or dead.
"MIGUEL O'HARA sent you $5,000"
What. The. Fuck.
I open up my bank app and sure enough I now have $8K. My eyes almost bulged out of my eyes and I cover my mouth, utterly shocked.
I immediately get up from my bed and practically sprinted to his room banging on his door like a psychopath.
"COME IN!" He yelled and I burst through the door, holding out my phone.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!!?" I yell, doing extra theatrics with my hands to accentuate my confusion.
"It's your half of the video." He says matter of factly making me gasp.
"That video made $10,000?!?" I exclaim and a smirk tugs on his lips.
"What can I say the people liked it." He says and sits up from his bed.
"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, I was thinking we should do another...." He continues then mumbles the last part but I heard him clearly.
I kept my excitement hidden but inside I felt giddy and wanted to jump up and down. But maybe then he'd change his mind so staying calm it is.
"Oh yeah?" I ask and he shrugs, trying to act casual as if it hasn't been on his mind since he noticed the success and that he's been wanting to have you in his videos before you filled in.
"If you'd want to that is." He says and you shrug.
My heart was racing, palms sweaty, it was getting much harder to act cool now that he was awaiting my response. I clear my throat and nod, "I'm down."
Miguel nodded and stood up, "are you busy tonight?"
I laugh, shaking my head not too surprised he wanted to film already. "Let's do it."
He grins and gets up from his bed, walking over to his chest in front of his bed and grabs his tripods. He then grabs the masks we used last time, throwing the pink one at me which I made sure to quickly catch. "So what do you have in mind?" I ask and play with the mask between my fingers.
"Well the people," he starts walking over to the couch he had by his window, "really wanted to see you in action."
"Me?" I ask and raise an eyebrow, could I be so lucky...
He nods and places the tripod in front of couch, positioning it correctly before taking out his phone out of his pocket. "We could do a handjob if you'd like." He says looking down at his phone and typing.
"Or if you want more money..." he coos making me chuckle.
Only for the money....
Of course...
"Should I change?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"Well actually just take off those horrendous pj pants." He teases making me snort.
"You're wearing batman pants-"
"Batman is cool-"
"At your grown ass age-"
"Better than dinosaurs." He snorts and I gasp.
"Take that back! We literally watched Jurassic Park after the first shoot..." I say and playfully glare at him as he finally looks up at me.
Only he could rock those ugly pants.
Only you could rock dino pjs, he thought to himself before shaking his head. Focus.
"So oral hm?" I mumble and walk over to him as he places his phone on the tripod.
"Mhm if you want." He responds making me chuckle.
I move my hair back and slip the mask over my head then fixing it so I could see right and my mouth was out. Then I groan and shake my head, "this thing is gonna be a fucking mess by the end of this."
"It'll be worth it." He says with a smirk sending a shiver down my spine.
Finally.
"And I'm honestly thinking no more collabs after this." He mutters making me scoff.
"Yeah right-"
"No seriously." He replies sincerely and shrugs.
"Well maybe besides with you.. it would be easier since you're already here..." he says looking back at his phone, avoiding my gaze.
Huh-
"Plus I know this kind of money could help us both. You work so hard and don't get paid nearly enough for all you do." He says now finally looking up and into my eyes.
I bite my lip and breathe in through my nose then exhale, should I?
It was a much bigger step, technically like being partners in a way. And surely this way he'd fuck me eventually-
"And I mean this sincerely, the 'fans' loved you out of all the girls I've worked with. Said our 'connection was unmatched.'" He says in quotation marks which stung a little, but I ignored it.
He then presses on his phone and walks toward me, "and I think I agree with them." He sighs and I could feel my heart racing.
"Really?" I whisper as he steps in front of me.
He nods and brings his hands up to cup my jaw, "Really." He breathes out and I almost immediately melted into his touch.
He then did the unexpected and made this sweet little moment even sweeter by leaning in and kissing me softly. It was so gentle and it had me questioning if he did this with the other girls. Or to show he really wanted to do this with me and not just this shoot but future ones.
I shook my thoughts away and kissed back, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He moved us to the right so we'd be on camera then sits us both down on the couch with me on his left. I could feel my heart thumping and it made me so nervous thinking he could feel it too. But he was too focused on this sweet kiss there was no way that'd be something he's paying attention to.
Surely.
Meanwhile in Miguel's head all he could think of was hoping you couldn't tell how overexcited he was. Hell after the first shoot he's just missed your touch, your body, your sounds.
But he didn't want to overstep so he kept his distance and stayed to himself.
Then after every shoot after that one it just didn't feel the same. With you it felt natural, it didn't feel like you were putting on a show but actually caring about your pleasure.
But in todays case, it'd be his pleasure. Which he was so ecstatic about. Every time a girl would be sucking him off he'd just close his eyes and imagine it were you. And now it was finally going to happen and he didn't have to pretend anymore.
Finally.
His hands were tracing my body slowly which made me realize I should be the one doing that. This whole scenario was gonna be about him technically.
I deepen the kiss and move my left hand to his hair, playing around with the curls at the back of his neck. With my right hand I graze against his collarbone softly while I slide my tongue into his mouth.
He moaned into my mouth making me squeeze my thighs together then move my hand, trailing down his body.
I lightly grazed his abs but my hands stayed put on the waistband of his pants. I pull away from the kiss that left us both breathless but then bring my face down to his neck, leaving soft kisses on his warm skin before toying with the waistband.
He bucked his hips up but I just moved my hand away, up to his stomach. I let it sit there while I leave a few marks on his neck, making sure it'd last a handful of days.
I move up a little and nibble on his ear before moving my hand down and on his already hard bulge. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel the thickness then take a look down and that was when I noticed he was breathing heavy.
I turned to look at him and his eyes were shut and his lips were shaking. I smile and bring my hand down, palming him over his pants as I watch him let out a small moan.
I was already starting to feel my panties getting soaked which only surprised me that it didn't happen sooner.
I rub the outline of his dick gently, which earns me breathy moans that were music to my ears. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me and was about to say something when i slipped my hand down his pants and stroked him over his boxers.
He moaned again and it only gave me motivation to keep going, to hear those moans that were because of me. Not another girl. But me.
I then couldn't help myself nor how quickly I took the pj pants off him but he didn't seem to mind. I then grabbed his dick and slipped it out of the hole of his boxers. I look down at it on my hands and gulp, he was so thick and leaking so much precum.
I open my mouth and spit on his angry tip, watching as it dribbles down then start stroking it with my right hand before it could go all the way down. He lets out a loud moan and bucks his hips up, thrusting himself into my hand which only made more wet because he looks so good.
I stroke him faster and continue watching his face, his cheeks were rosy and there were beads of sweat along his forehead and he laid his head back against the couch. "Feel good Mig?" I murmur and he brings his head up nodding.
He then looks down at my hand and groans, "so fucking good baby."
I hum and continue my pace, then moving my face closer to his and leave a kiss on his cheek before kissing along his jaw. "Oh fuck baby-“
I then pull away and drop to my knees in front of him. I continue stroking him, staring up at him with big doe eyes before moving closer and leaving a little kiss on his tip making him groan.
I squeezed my thighs together and smiled up at him before leaving kitten licks on his tip and lightly circle around it earning myself a deep moan. "Just like that pretty girl-"
"Oh shit!" He moans as I slip him inside my mouth, bringing my head down as he tilts his head back.
I move my head down as much as I could, barely able to take half before pulling back and letting the drool drip out of my mouth and back onto his tip. I slip him back in my mouth and try to take more than the first time, already gagging on it but I wanted to take it all.
I pull back with no luck then try once more, taking him in my mouth and then go down as far as possible until I'm gagging on him and then going down further, finally able to take all of him down my throat.
"Fuck! God baby you're taking it s-so fucking good." Miguel moans and I feel myself clench around nothing.
I pull out then immediately go back down again, having him hit my throat some more. I then feel his hands hold onto my head so I freely let him guide me.
With teary eyes I look up at him and moaning at the sight of him rolls his eyes back, moaning louder and louder the more I take him. "So fucking good to me-" he moans and forces me to move my head harder.
"Take that fucking dick pretty girl- fuck- I know you can take it." He groans and slowly starts thrusting up into me.
I close my eyes and let him take full control which he was clearly, very appreciative of. He began thrusting his hips up then shoved my head down as deep as it could go then thrust down.
"Such a dirty fucking girl for me- taking all that cock-" he breathes out and starts thrusting his hips up faster but his grip on my head loosened.
"Oh baby- you have no idea how long I've needed that pretty mouth of yours. Too fucking long-" he moans making me whimper against him and I feel his cock begin to twitch in my mouth.
"Mmm gonna give you a load you deserve-" he murmurs and I squeeze my thighs feeling my arousal dripping to my inner thighs.
"All this cum just for you baby. Fuck!" And with one final deep thrust he came down my throat, I quickly swallowed and then pulled away, taking a deep breath before trying to control my breathing.
He then reaches down and grabs me, pulling me up and smashing our lips together. He places me on his lap as I kiss back and let him taste himself in my mouth. He then pulls away and gives me a small smile which I returned with pleasure.
But he then gave me a goofy grin which only made me laugh and playfully slap his shoulder. He rolls his eyes then pecks my lips softly before placing my head on his chest.
His heart was thumping clear as day.
"Only you cause this, with or without a shoot." He admits quietly and I quickly look up at him with wide eyes.
"I really would love to make content with just you." He says then quickly adds, "not just out of convenience."
I smile and feel my whole body grow warm, "so when's a good time to have the 'what are we' chat?" I joke and he bursts out laughing.
"We can be whatever you want us to be." He says and brings a hand to my cheek, lightly stroking it making me melt into his touch.
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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 4861
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
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Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.
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Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
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11. Palmiers
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Bucky
Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.
They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”
“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”
Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.
Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.
The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.
As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take). 
He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?” 
Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go. 
“Thanks babe.”
“Uh huh.” 
It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”
“Babe? What’s wrong?”
Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout. 
Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?” 
“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen. 
Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.
“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”
“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body. 
“What’s going on?” 
Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.
“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.
“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”
Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.” 
“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”
“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?” 
“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”
“Your muscles?”
Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”
“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.” 
“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.
“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”
Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”
“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue  “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”
“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”
“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”
Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.” 
Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains. 
“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.
“I must’a slept on it wrong.”
Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch. 
The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.
He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.
She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.
“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”
“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”
“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.
“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway. 
“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”
“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.
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Steve
Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”
“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.
“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”
She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 
“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?” 
“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.” 
“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.
She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.
"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.
Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"
"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"
"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."
She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."
They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn’t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,
“So: His arm.”
Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”
“What happened?”
Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”
“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”
Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”
Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”
“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.” 
Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.
“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”
She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”
“Jeez.”
“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”
Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”
“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?” 
“Yeah.”
"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”
Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”
“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”
She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”
“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.
(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)
(“Duh.”)
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In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,
“What’s the holdup?” 
“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”
“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.
Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.
“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”
“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”
Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”
“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay. 
“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.
She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.
“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.
She freezes. “Bad?” 
“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”
“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”
(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)
“Riiight here? and … here?"
Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.
“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”
“Mmrr.”
“And here: your rhomboid.”
“Ooh!”
“Tender?” 
“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”
Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.
“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”
“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.
“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”
Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).
“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”
“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”
Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.
“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”
“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder. 
“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”
Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.
“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.
“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”
“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods. 
“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”
“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”
She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here? 
Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out. 
Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”
When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”
Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”
It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”
“Yep.”
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*This chapter would've had the "breaking point," but I don't like to post chapters of more than 4-5000 wordcounts on Tumblr. So the next part will be up in a bit once I fine tune and add to it.
**And to anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.
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This has been a fill for:
@anyfandomdarkbingo
Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky
Square N3: Body Swap
@matchat3a @bethexo07
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forlorn-crows · 3 months
Text
And You Know That It Takes Two
Rating: E for Explicit
Relationship(s): Copia/Dewdrop
Tags: transitional period between era iv and era v, banter, slice of life, first time, first kiss, handjobs. beta'd AND correctly translated italian!
Words: 3731
Summary: “Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”
When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.
special thanks to @miasmaghoul for beta'ing and @foxybouquet for the italian translations ♡
EDIT: now with ART from the fabulous @noahl-art. merci beaucoup, nono!! find his full artwork here
Read on AO3 or under the cut:
Caro: dear
Stai bene?: (Are) you okay?
Ti piace?: Do you like this?/Does this feel good?
Merdaccia infernale: (roughly) infernal fucking shit. Closest to "unholy shit".
Proprio così: That’s it.
“D’you think Lucifer would want us to have black mass every Saturday?” Dew pokes the wooden arm of Copia’s chair with the toe of his boot. “Shouldn’t we be exercising our sinful wiles instead of listening to you drone on about the Dark One?” 
Copia tugs on a scrap of paper trapped beneath the ghoul’s thigh. “You do plenty of that on your off time, my ghoul,” he teases. He looks over his reading glasses, offering a smirk. Dew can hear the unspoken eh? at the end of his sentence, so much so he can’t help rolling his eyes and smirking back. 
“How would you know, old man?” Dew fires back, flicking the hem of Copia’s trousers with his tail. He leans in closer. Elbows resting on his slightly spread knees until his face is level with the anti-pope’s. “Listening in on your free time?” The fire ghoul smiles wickedly, giving him an obvious once over. He cocks his head and bites his tongue between his teeth, waiting for an answer. 
Copia’s face rosies a bit, but he returns to his chicken scratch. He jots down a few words before he mutters: “I am sure you do not fantasize your Papa spying on you, caro.” 
“Maybe I don’t.” A lie. “Anyway, I think Rain’s loud enough to hear across the fuckin’ abbey. Probably have a soundtrack of water ghoul moans to lull you to sleep every other night,” Dew snickers. 
Copia just shakes his head with an amused sigh and continues taking notes. Little chunks of writing in the margins of photocopies of Latin texts, scrawling in both Italian and English in a little notebook off to the side. Dew’s struck with just how patient this man is, endlessly so. He can get crabby on tour, just like any of them, restless and tired, but he really is kind to him and his pack. 
The fire ghoul hums thoughtfully and returns to his upright position. Leaning back into the circles of bare desk he cleared earlier for his hands. “Do you get tired of putting up with us, Papa?” he asks casually. 
“Dewdrop,” Copia says with a measured tone. He puts his pen down, and his glasses too, looking up at his lead guitarist and steepling his fingers. They’re devoid of gloves, Dew notices in passing, his nails neatly trimmed and his skin smooth and humanly wrinkly. “We have been working together for how many years now?”
Dew shrugs. “A few.”
“Si, quite a few, hm?” Copia agrees. He swivels his chair so his body faces Dew more directly and places a gentle hand on his knee. “Why then, my ghoul, would you think I am ‘putting up with you,’ as you put it?”
“Don’t tell me you actually like us,” Dew says sarcastically. But Copia’s hand is warm on his knee, and he’s trying not to focus too much on how he’s looking at him right now, all soft eyes and a worried crease in his brow. 
“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”
When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar. 
He’s quiet for so long that Copia clears his throat and gives his knee a polite pat before taking his hand away. He makes to go back to his notes, but Dew mourns the loss of his hand immediately. His pen barely touches the pages before the fire ghoul sobers up and inhales sharply. 
“Uh,” he blurts out stupidly, shaking his head and squinting his eyes at Copia. Unsure what to say but determined to say something. “You mean that?” Immediately he wants to crawl back into himself—back into the Pit, even—for sounding so small. Vulnerable. 
“Yes, I do,” Copia says quietly, genuinely. He taps his pen against the paper, little dots of black littering the line beneath his skip this? note. Instead of resuming his annotations, he sets the pen down once more, looking up at the ghoul perched atop his desk. His white eye is suddenly piercing in the lamplight, and he’s looking at him like he can see more than just the ghoul sitting in front of him.
“Well, I guess we’re . . . fond of you too, or whatever you wanna call it,” he mocks, aiming for levity. Dew’s tail flicks, ruffling the hem of Copia’s pants again.
Copia chuckles. “Well, that is good then,” he smiles.
Dew hums. Offers a one-sided smile in return. Easy. He could leave it at that; resume the relaxed banter about sermons and his new duties as Papa while Copia gets increasingly tired and/or annoyed and shoos him away with a chocolate truffle in hand (the ones he keeps stashed in his desk drawer for evenings like this). 
He could. But in the same moment, he decides he’s tired of tip-toeing around the idea of what this man is to him. He wades out into the waters, throwing a line.
“Is that . . . the only thing you feel for us?” he says at length, quieter. He scoots his thigh closer to the anti-pope’s hand. Encouraging him to touch again, if he wants. The sudden heat in his belly hoping he does. He wades a little deeper. “For me?” 
Now it’s Copia’s turn to falter, fingers twitching at the fabric of Dew’s trousers. He looks down at Dew’s thigh, then back up to his face. Searching his copper eyes for something, anything, his thoughts as loud as if Dew were a quintessence ghoul. 
“I . . .” he trails off, a failed start. He clears his throat. “I am, as they say, only human. So there are, perhaps, other . . . things. Si.” 
Dew grabs his hand gently, placing it just above where it was moments ago, confidence building. “Fantasies, maybe?” 
“Dewdrop—”
“For how bold you are on stage, you sure are fuckin’ shy in private, Papa.”
Copia huffs a laugh, moving his hand tentatively along Dew’s thigh. “Eh . . . reserved, maybe. But I don’t know about shy, my ghoul.” He shuffles his chair so he’s situated back between the fire ghoul’s dangling legs. 
Dew smirks. “See? Can call me motherfucker in front of thousands of screaming girls, but it’s my ghoul in here.”
“Ah, but that is the difference. They do not get the privilege of seeing you offstage.” A beat.  “Though, I imagine they would do a lot of things for that privilege,” he mutters. 
Dew bites his tongue in asserting that he is, in fact, a motherfucker offstage too. Instead, he tilts his head so his ashy hair cascades over his shoulder and spreads his legs further, hooking a foot in the arm of Copia’s chair and tugging it closer. He’s baring all of himself now, literally and figuratively. Potentially risking his position, too, if this goes south. 
But by the look on the anti-pope’s face, they’re both too deep to swim back now. 
“And what’re you gonna do with that privilege, Papa?”
“You’re asking?” he deflects, putting the other hand on the opposite thigh.
“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, old man, I swear to Satan—”
“Like this?” Copia smooths his hand up the inside of Dew’s thigh, running along the seam of his pants until he reaches where the ghoul’s started to chub up. His breath hitches, head tilting back. 
“Yeah,” he breathes. He looks back down at his hand, tucking chin to chest as he watches those fingers press just so, right where the tip of his dick sits already sticky in his boxers. He bites his lip with a stifled noise.
“Long time we’ve danced around each other, I think,” Copia says. Dew just nods, flexing his hips into his fingers to get more friction. Copia presses more firmly, taking the hint. Drawing a firm line down the ridge of his clothed shaft. 
“Humans and ghouls, well . . .” he trails off, looking up at Dew.
“You’ve thought about it,” he replies simply. 
“Of course. Of course I have, caro. I–” he laughs, shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, look at you.” He stops himself, color rising to his cheeks. He drops his gaze, focusing back on the hand on Dew’s fly.
The fire ghoul watches him trace a finger around the button before reaching down himself, popping it open. “What about me?” he asks softly, inviting. Shifting his hips again to encourage him to continue. 
“Not just fishing for compliments, I hope,” Copia teases lightly, a little bit of that stage persona shining through as he drags the zipper down.
“That’s not what—hh-oh.” He cuts himself off with a stuttered breath of a moan, Copia’s hand having reached past his fly and into his pants to pet at the dot of wetness sticking his boxers to his tip. The look of pure curiosity—wonder, really—on the man’s face as he feels him up has his stomach flipping. “Fuck, keep doing that.”
“You tell me what you like, my ghoul, and I will do it,” he whispers. 
Dew groans as another bead of precum blurts out into his boxers, wet at just his words. “Keep teasing it,” he breathes. “Shit, see how wet you can get it.” He twitches under Copia’s fingers as he wraps his hand around his clothed cock, thumb swiping back and forth over the head. Firm, but just light enough that it makes Dew keen for more. 
Copia continues the little motions, over and over until Dew’s underwear clings to him, saturated with pre. The friction of it and the intensity of Copia’s gaze on him has him dizzy, wanting. The man’s thumb presses over his slit, and he can’t help his eyes rolling back, thighs twitching towards each other. 
“F-fuck,” he stutters. 
Copia rubs his other hand over Dew’s thigh, soothing. “Stai bene? Good?” 
The fire ghoul nods, hair falling off his shoulders to frame his face. “More than,” he groans. He bites his lip, bucking into Copia’s hand. “Again—do it agai—yes, Satanas, yes.”
The anti-pope presses into his slit again, this time dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge with even pressure. Humming as he works it back and forth. It’s so sensitive, so instantly overwhelming that Dew has to consciously restrain himself from gouging his claws into the wood. He lets his head drop back, facing the ceiling and biting his lip to stave off the rush of arousal that threatens to make him spill in his pants. 
Below him, Copia sighs. “Beautiful, caro,” he comments. 
Dew half-snorts, half-groans, bringing his chin back down to his chest. “You flatter me,” he says with an eye roll. 
“They say it gets one everywhere, no?” 
“If by ‘everywhere’ you mean ‘in my pants’.”
“If that is where you want me.”
Dew sucks his teeth, scoffs a little in disbelief. Eyebrows twitching upwards when Copia fingers the elastic of his boxers, blunt nails scratching at the peach fuzz on his stomach. He can’t get a grasp on the anti-pope’s tone, switching so fast between charming and soft it makes his head spin. He’s seen both moods separately, of course, fired back his own quips with a silver tongue or begrudgingly accepted praise and a head pat for a productive rehearsal. But having a cocktail of both leaves him with mental whiplash.
The hand making his dick wet probably isn’t helping in that department.
So he nods instead, helping the man shimmy down the waistband of his boxers to snuggle it under his balls, freeing his aching length. Dew hisses at the cool air of the room breezing over the slick-coated head—though, it’s replaced with a puff of hot air when Copia breathes: 
“May I?” 
Dew nods again, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows as a silent duh. Copia chuckles at that, scooting a little closer. He smooths his other hand up the fire ghoul’s thigh, up, up, up until he stops at his hip and rests his palm there, forearm dropping to sit on top of his leg. Dew’s stuck watching its ascent and misses the moment the anti-pope reaches for him, wrapping his fingers gently around the base of his cock and stroking upwards. 
“Lucifer,” he chokes out. He snaps his gaze to where their skin meets and watches his dick kick hard in Copia’s fist, more precum welling up in the slit. 
“Ti piace?” Copia continues to stroke slowly, not immediately translating as earlier. His accent curls around Dew’s eardrums, the Italian twisting with foreignness and short-circuiting his language synapses. He shakes his head, begging the small box of Italian in his brain labeled ‘Papa’s Nonsense Words’ to make sense of the phrase.  
He blinks at Copia’s expectant gaze. “Huh?” he asks eloquently, forcing the word through an embarrassing moan.
“Does this feel good?” he supplies, nodding toward his hand. 
The fire ghoul stares at the man’s hand, now wet with his own slick as it glides up and down. When his brain finally catches up to him, he barks a bewildered laugh. “I’m gonna have to learn more fuckin’ Italian for this,” he mumbles.
“Oh.” Copia laughs too, realizing his little slip-up. Dew’s shoulders shake with his own renewed laughter. Giggles passing between the two as if they were twelve-year-olds who just pulled off a prank on their teacher, not a fifty-something leader of a Satanic church jerking off a near immortal hellbeast turned quasi-human. 
But the shared laughter is familiar. Comforting, in a way. Something to dissolve that final layer of caution that sat like oil on water between them. 
“You are an endless delight, my ghoul,” Copia sighs, huffing out a last chuckle. 
“I’ll give you an endless—uuh-nholy ff–fuck.” Copia runs his thumb over the slit of Dew’s cock, and his sentence is reduced to an eye-rolling moan. He grabs hold of the anti-pope’s forearm that rests on his leg, fingers digging into the muscle as he drools out a fat roll of precum. 
Copia hums and smears it around the head, pulling down the foreskin to rub at the sensitive underside. It’s all the courtesy he’s granted before the man goes back to stroking him in earnest, skirting over the head with each downward pass and tightening around the base when he pulls up.  
Dew grips his forearm tighter, thighs jumping with each tease of his frenulum. “Faster,” he begs. “And tighter. Fuck, feels s’ good.” 
“Merdaccia infernale, are you always so . . .” Copia shakes his head, letting the room fill with the lewd, creamy sounds of Dew’s slick-soaked cock.
“Wet?” Dew supplies as a choked-off noise. “Not al–hah–always. Not since—” his eyes roll back again, too caught in pleasure to be completely coherent. “The–shit–the—” Dew flails his hand in some nonsensical gesture. 
“Si, si.” The man understands without further elaboration that he means his elemental transition. That, despite the effective evaporation of his water, the born-again fire ghoul still carries traits from his original alignment—including dribbling pre like a leaky tap.
But Copia knows, doesn’t need him to explain or elaborate. Just tightens his grip and speeds his hand, looking up at Dew with a gaze that cuts him right down to the core. Intense, yet soft and admiring. Desire flickering just behind that. 
“Shit,” Dew hisses, letting his eyes close fully. Sinking into it. His hips are moving of their own accord now, little twitches that meet each downstroke, just barely fucking into Copia’s fist. It’s so much better than it has right to be, but Dew doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way Copia’s hand feels on his dick, the way his other hand grips his hip, the way his breathing grows heavier and tickles the fine hairs at the base of his dick, how it chills the wetness at the tip only to be warmed by his fingers within the same second. 
“Oh, oh, ohhhh fuck, Papa, fuck.” His pleasure heightens suddenly, the backs of his thighs going pleasantly tingly and his toes curling in his boots. He can feel it starting to build, balls drawing closer to his body with every stroke. 
“Close?” Copia whispers, gripping Dew’s hip tighter and shifting in his chair. He grunts a little, no doubt filled out in his slacks too. Dew can’t confirm from this angle, especially not with the way his vision blurs, doubles even. But he has to be, if his wavering voice is anything to go by. 
Dew throbs at just the idea of his cock straining against his zipper, balls heavy and squished between his thighs as he watches the fire ghoul come apart. Neglecting it as he showers Dew with undivided attention. He’s assaulted with the mental image of Copia in those tight, white pants from his Cardinal days, absolutely everything on display, and he groans. 
He’s shaking now, stomach jumping as his breath starts to quicken. He’s sure his eyes are wild as he looks at the man below him, whining through his teeth as his hand moves faster, faster. Dew watches Copia bite his lip and look down at the movements of his hand, and the sudden fantasy image of that mouth kissing the tip of his cock makes him grip the anti-pope’s forearm until it threatens to bruise, nearly doubling over with the swell of impending orgasm.
Dew needs him. He needs him so badly. 
“Gonna cum—fuck, please,” he moans, breath quickening to shortened gasps. “Kiss me—please, m’ gonna—Papa—” Dew grasps at the man’s shirt collar, pulling at it to get him to stand. Dragging him in by the shoulders and kissing him fiercely, whining when Copia groans into his mouth and pumps him even faster. The scent on him is instantly intoxicating; notes of neroli and patchouli, dull wax from the black patches of makeup, the barest hint of incense smoke underneath. All pressed directly into his nostrils where Dew’s nose smushes against his. 
“Proprio così,” Copia mumbles, encouraging. His other arm loops around to cradle him between the shoulder blades, hand threading through his hair to grasp and hold as he kisses him deeply. That little bit of tension on Dew’s scalp sends a zing of heat right to his dick, and he’s moaning like a whore as he scrabbles at Copia’s shirt, ready to fall over the edge.
“Fucking. Fu–uhh, uh, uhh—” Dew loses all sense of words as he clings to him, mouth dropping open and tongue drooling over Copia’s lips. He cums hard, spilling over his hand with a shuddering groan, bucking into that wet fist until he’s risking sliding off the edge of the desk. He doesn’t, of course, braced and embraced by Copia’s body as he is. 
Dew’s head drops to his shoulder as he rides out the seemingly endless spasms. Far too many for a handy, if he’s being honest. But the anti-pope works him over until he’s milked dry, whispering more words into his hair that he doesn’t understand and rubbing a soothing hand over his back. 
“Shit,” he rasps. After a few more moments he peeks down at his lap—lucid enough now to mind his horns—where his black pants are now streaked with white, Copia’s hand resting on his fly also coated in the stuff. He shakes his head softly and laughs. 
“Got me good, old man.”
“Dewdrop . . .” His tone is pleading, breathless. Dew lifts his head and the hand on his back migrates to the side of his face, caressing softly. He leans into it as he looks at Copia, his face flushed and a look of pure want and adoration in his eyes. “Please, caro.”
He doesn’t need to ask what he needs, eyes flicking down to the tent in his pants and back up again. Dew nods. Moves the hands around Copia’s neck to the back of his head, pulling him in. 
It’s less feverish this time. Softer and slower, but far from chaste. Idly he wonders if any of the others have had him like this: privately in his office, a mere exchange of something fleeting, or hot and heavy in a storage closet after a show, frantic and adrenaline-fueled. 
If any of them have, they’ve never told. He’ll go back to the ghoul wing smelling of him, unless he runs straight to the shower. Douse himself in scalding hot water until he can barely smell himself.
But he won’t. 
Dew slides into the space in front of Copia, ignoring the mess on his dick as he presses close to the man. Licking into his mouth and sliding their tongues together as Copia’s hands start to roam. The fire ghoul slots a thigh between his legs as his palms reach his waist, pressing against his crotch. 
Copia whines in his throat, twisting his fingers into the fabric of Dew’s shirt. He’s hard as steel against his leg, throbbing when Dew presses harder and tugging at him like he could still get closer than he already is. 
“Sit down,” Dew rumbles. He breaks the kiss and holds his gaze as he presses on his shoulders, easing him back into the desk chair. Down, down, down until Dew looms over him. He smirks slightly, confidence and ease returning to him as their positions switch. Running his thumb along the painted upper lip then dragging down to the bare one. 
Wordlessly, the fire ghoul sinks to his knees. Scoots Copia to the edge of his chair so he can spread his legs. He smooths his palms up his thighs, his infernal heat seeping through the trousers. He watches Copia’s face as he pets at him, cupping and rubbing at his cock through the layers of fabric. The man’s chest heaves. Hands gripping the wooden arms of his chair. Exhaling shakily as Dew traces a claw around the button on his fly.
“Allow me,” Dew purrs.
145 notes · View notes
fubu18writes · 2 months
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❧the forbidden tale of a prince and a mermaid are only told in the dark, moonlit waters
♢regular tags: prince!kurokawa izana, mermaid princess!reader, fem!reader, royalty au ♢mature tags: exhibitionism (y'all fuck in a beach), unprotected sex (be responsible!), reader is called "princess", izana is called "master", nipple play, fingering, pussy worship, orgasm denial handjob, cowgirl position (you kinda ride him so...) ♢all characters are 18+ and above unless stated otherwise
a/n: this mostly inspired from an asmr so this isn't really mythology accurate... and yes, this is my first time writing for izana...
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A misty night hangs low over the harbor, clouding even the stars from the sky. The ships creak and moan, bobbing slowly in the calm water. It is nearly the midnight hour, and no one could be seen outside.
Except for one, lone prince. Holding up a lantern.
This was Kurokawa Izana's only time to be free of any sort of responsibility. Izana is the youngest prince, and ever since his parents and older brother died, he became heir to the thrown at fourteen.
He was eighteen now. A suitable age to find a bride. But he had no interest in finding anyone as of now. He had to enjoy a little bit of his freedom somehow.
He walks down to the end of the dock, setting his lamp down on one of the posts, easing himself down to sit over the edge. He takes a deep breath. "It's darker than usual," He says to himself. "I'm surprised no one wanted to stay for the night shift... I would enjoy the privacy if I was part of the sailors..."
There was a moment of silence before Izana starts to hear something over in the distance. Someone was humming a tune, and it echoed throughout the harbor. It was an alluring voice, but Izana kept up his guard, sheathing his rapier as he stood up.
There was a few seconds before a woman's head pops out of the water. "What on..." His eyebrows furrow before he puts his rapier on the ground, holding the lantern just to see her more clearly. "Are you alright?" Izana asks as he kneels down on the dock. "You shouldn't be swimming in the midnight hour, something might happen." He reprimanded as he extends his out to you. "Take my hand, come on."
The woman just swims closer, and that's when Izana could make out the faint, iridescent-colored scales in the water. And to top it all off, there was a fin.
A mermaid's fin.
Izana's hand recoils suddenly, his face showing complete shock. This couldn't be real, right? There was no way that a mermaid was there in front of him, right? But there was living proof: You.
"Hmm?" You suddenly say, making Izana widen his eyes more. "I thought you wanted to help me up." You say, tilting your head a little to the side. Izana blinked. Your voice... was alluring, in a way. And you were just talking. He visibly flinches when he sees that you were the one extending your hand to him.
You raise an eyebrow. Maybe you weren't addressing him correctly? You had been peeking up to the surface every now and then, and oftentimes you would hear the other women (and occasionally men) call their partners "master" or anything similar to that. "Master?" You say afterwards and that's when something in Izana snaps a little.
"...you won't lure me to my death or something?" Izana then asks suspsciously.
"You believe in those tales?" You ask and let out a chuckle. "I believe you're referring to a different type of mermaid."
Izana kneels back down, a bit amused. He extends his hand to hold yours, and his skin roams around your own. Your skin was soft, which was surprising. You prop your tail out of the water again, allowing his other hand to look and feel at your iridescent scales. "...what is your name?" He asks after a while, his purple eyes meeting your own.
"y/n". You answer.
"y/n," Izana repeats. As if he was practicing how the name rolls off his tongue. "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful creature... I would say woman but I can't really..."
"Oh, I don't have to be a creature of the water." You say with a smile. Though, Izana couldn't see that your smile was that of... seduction.
Izana raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"
"Why don't you pull me up to find out?" You say with a soft laugh. Izana ponders for a moment, before managing a nod as he helps you up onto the dock.
As you sit there, Izana could see a small light emitting from your tail, and it begins to split. Scales smoothing out into soft skin. In a moment, you sit across from Izana, water glistening from your soft, human legs.
"Oh my god." Izana looks at you, shock returning to his face. He snaps back to reality when he decides to take off his jacket. "Hold on, you should put this on." He says, about to place it on your shoulders but you stop him. "I won't need it, master." You say with a seductive undertone. There was that snapping feeling again.
"What do you mean by this?" He asks again. But your response was to lean forward to catch his lips under your silky soft ones, kissing him gently. This action catches him by surprise, but slowly, he sinks into the kiss. You start to untie his dress shirt and that's when Izana pulls away, panting heavily. "This is... do you want this?" He asks, his eyes looking at you intently. You could only stare back, your hands still on his shirt as you whisper, "I do, master." And you didn't hide the seduction in your voice. "I may not know what you are, but I can sense a heat in you." You say to him. "So... allow me to return the same, master."
That was already an approval, so Izana's arms wrap around your waist as he straddles you, kissing you again. You kiss back eagerly as his hands roam around your naked skin, leaving no crevice untouched. You lay your passion deep in the kiss, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. In a way, the both of you were hoping this would happen.
"I can't keep my hands off you," Izana says through the kiss, before pulling away. "Tell me with your voice, princess." His tone was dominating, and you could feel the heat pool in once again. And who were you to deny this? "Touch me, master..." You moan out, and you moan again when one of Izana's hands go in between your legs to caress your thighs and wet clit. His tongue plays around with your nipple and you could only squirm and moan in pleasure.
"Is this what you need as well, princess?" He asks after playing with your nipple and looks up at you with a smirk. He doesn't wait for your answer though as he continues to play with your clit and devour your other nipple.
Izana decides to test the waters, slipping a finger in your pussy and you let out a loud moan. It was a sound that Izana hadn't heard, especially from a woman such as beautiful as you were. He didn't stop, still his tongue sucking on your nipple and his fingers caressing your wetness.
Once he left his marks on your breasts, still giving you a smirk as he decides to thrust his finger in and out of your pussy. "This is exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks. "My touch on your body, giving your pussy the attention it deserves..." He chuckles as he sees you squirm. "But I won't make it easy for you, princess. You're going to have to earn it."
Just as your legs begin to shake, Izana stops. The tent in his pants becomes more evident as he sees your wet cunt clenching over nothing. "Fuck me like you mean it, princess." He commanded, and who were you to decline an offer?
You untie his pants, pulling them down to see his hard cock, standing erect. Your eyes widen in awe. "Master, your cock..." You whisper, and Izana only chuckles. "Why so surprised? You haven't seen a cock before?" He asks.
"Not like this..." You admitted. Sure, you had seen some... sights, of the humans doing their activities nearby in the caves or on the rocks. And you have seen some of the men's hardened erections. But Izana's? Oh, it was nothing like the others that you've seen.
Izana didn't know if he should be flattered or not, but he'll go for the former rather than the latter. You didn't wait for any response from Izana as you begin to touch his cock. Izana visibly flinches, throwing his head back as he lets out a moan. His control fades away the moment your hands move up and down on his cock. "Oh my... master, it's better than I ever imagined..." You don't hide the fact that you're aching for this, moving your hands faster.
"Oh, fuck-" Izana looks at you now. "That feels good, keep going-" His control visibly fades. Your hands feel like silk on his cock. Your touch feels like a gift from the sea, and he thinks that he can cum just from your hands alone. "Fuck me, please-" He lets out another moan when you squeeze his cock. "I can't take it, please-"
You consider denying him. But that isn't what you came here for.
You move, hovering over him as you slowly slide your pussy onto his cock. Izana inhales a sharp breath, his hands now going to hold your waist. You raise your hips slowly before sinking down back onto his cock, holding onto his shoulders to give yourself leverage. You moan along with him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.
"This is nothing like the fantasies I've had," You moan out as you move faster, your breasts bouncing and Izana moves his hand to squeeze your breast. "Let me fuck you, let me feel your heat inside me,"
Izana couldn't take this anymore. He could feel the same heat emitting from her. The way your breasts bounce like that as he squeezes one of them, pinching and twisting your nipples with ease. "Are you gonna cum, princess?" He manages to ask as you only nod eagerly. "Cum inside, master," You beg, your eyes pleading for him to do so. "Please, I want to feel master's seed inside..."
"Then take it all," Izana's voice becomes raspy as he finally digs his nails into your hips. You feel your climax reaching and it does, along with Izana's own. But somehow, you don't stop. You only grind on him and he squeezes both of your breasts now. "If this is a dream, then I won't wake up..."
"Who said that it can only be a dream?" You ask him with a smile. "I can be your real princess, master. Just make it happen."
"Then I'll make it happen, just keep fucking me like you mean it." Izana then cups your cheeks as his lips capture yours, the both of your tongues colliding with one another.
That night, the prince had already binded his body and soul with a mermaid, starting the forbidden romance that can only be told under the misty night...
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