#how do you even DESCRIBE how fucking evil this is

[lord-squiggletits]

Saw a tweet online that was like "they've done good guy Megatron what if they tried writing bad guy Optimus (not SG)" and it made me think

My brother in christ IDW1 is the closest we got to bad guy Optimus (there's literally a chapter called "All Hail Optimus" for fuck's sake) and people lost their fucking minds over it and to this day the fandom barely acknowledges that IDW Optimus exists even though he was just morally gray and not even evil.

People SAY they want morally gray/evil Optimus but they actually don't and it's never going to happen lol. Not only is Hasbro never going to let their precious marketing icon turn evil but the fanbase would fucking hate an evil Optimus and call him OOC and not a real Optimus and replace him with some other version

#squiggposting #that being said i feel like you could make optimus work as like... #lawful evil or lawful neutral perhaps #he wouldnt literally be an evil person but it would be via the law and order he would do it #but you know what? i'm literally describing idw optimus lol #like yeah. literally idw op's whole thing is that hes not evil and has the best of intentions #but the actions he takes to do what he thinks is right can verge on tyranny #so yeah i stand by what i said. we already got something close to an evil optimus and fandom fucking hated him #still hates him to this day #god i hate this fandom and how it's full of absolute cowards who probably havent even read half the source material #negativity

[gremlingottoosilly]

Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)

Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation

The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach. 

Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror. 

He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you. 

“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”

You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further. 

“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?” 

You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn���t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base. 

This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building. 

***

Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless. 

No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right? 

They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other. 

— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny. 

— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies. 

— How is she? 

— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much. 

— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago. 

— Good thing I found her, aye? 

Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away. 

You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in. 

You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away. 

The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it. 

Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind. 

— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya. 

You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you. 

God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is. 

— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. 

— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners. 

Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound. 

“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later. 

— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one. 

His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway. 

— Don’t touch me. 

— Can’t help it. You’re pretty. 

You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass. 

Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach. 

It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it. 

— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy. 

— F…fuck you. 

— You will, love. Promise. 

The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room. 

You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again. 

He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen. 

— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock. 

— D…don’t touch me. Please. 

— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up. 

— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…

He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this. 

— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh? 

You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful. 

— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much. 

— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary? 

— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those. 

They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you. 

Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this. 

Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there. 

He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right? 

— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself. 

— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…

It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them. 

— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste. 

— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…

— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it. 

Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used. 

You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue. 

You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit. 

“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?” 

He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals. 

“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”

He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue. 

“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me” 

You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again. 

You feel sick. 

— Fuck. S’ tight for me. 

You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this. 

His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock. 

The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either. 

You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon. 

— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride. 

— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb. 

— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb. 

— I’m…

— It’s alright. We like dumb girls. 

He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm. 

It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild. 

You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent. 

Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist. 

He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling. 

— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today. 

He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing. 

You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #soap x reader #dark ghost #yandere 141 #141 x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #male yandere

[fyodorloveclub]

DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?

★ pairing: husband!fyodor x reader

★ cw: DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! 18+, MINORS DNI. noncon, drugging, forced breeding, lots of breeding/pregnancy talk, vaginal sex, not enough foreplay, fyodor is evil!!

★ notes: breedtober fic #?? sorry the fics have been coming out so late, thank u for ur patience ily all <3

want more of breedtober?

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!

Dizzy – you’re so fucking dizzy. The room is spinning, your vision is dark and fuzzy around the edges, and you have no clue if you’re sitting or standing up currently. Because, worst of all, every part of your body is numb. You can’t move.  

All you can see is the normally gentle, sweet face of your lover that’s now marred with an expression one can only describe as evil.

You want to reach out, ask him what’s wrong, what’s happening, but you can’t. All movement and speech have been rendered impossible, due to the teacup that lay shattered on the ground, bathed in the liquid that made you like this.

It was completely normal, a routine at this point, to sit in the living room with Fyodor in front of the lit fireplace sipping tea out of teacups from his beloved collection of fine china. The tea varied – chamomile, earl gray, mint, oolong, just plain green. And the activities often varied as well. Sometimes teasing and laughing over a card game, sometimes long, difficult discussions about the future with stoic faces, and sometimes just comfortable silence. The night before you had been discussing marriage and children. But it was always just you and Fyodor with cups of tea.

This had been a night like every other, though conversation remained at a minimum. Jasmine tea as the fire roared a little hotter than usual. What differed was how the tea started to make you feel. It was slow enough that you wouldn’t push away the cup or become unable to drink the whole serving, but fast enough that once it came on, you couldn’t stop it – it was too late.

And now you lay limp in Fyodor’s arms as he laid you down on the chaise lounge you had been resting on with your cup of tea – the one had fallen to the ground once your strength had started to fade.

“W-wha-” you manage to get out, your vocal cords and lips fighting against whatever was paralyzing them.

“Shhh,” Fyodor soothes, petting your hair as he hovers over you. “This is for the good of our family, my love.”

Your slack face slightly contorts into a look of confusion as your fuzzy mind tries to make sense of his words, barely noticing the way he tugged down your pants until his fingertips circled around your clit lightly. Somehow you could feel that. You attempted to jerk away from the touch, but your body once again failed you.

“Oh, my love, don’t you remember?” he tuts before spitting on his fingers and prodding at your hole. He had little interest in foreplay right now. “Don’t you understand? How you saying you ‘didn’t want kids anymore’ was completely unacceptable.”

It suddenly starts to click, even in your fucked mind. The way Fyodor’s jaw tightened, and smile faded during your discussion last night when you admitted that you didn’t see kids in your future. You had paid little mind to his disappointed “oh”. But clearly, he hadn’t let go.

One finger pushes past your still tight ring of muscle, making you grunt. “In case you don’t, in case the drug has addled your conscience too much, I shall explain.” Another finger sinks in. “We will be having children. At least three, to be exact. You will be getting pregnant, and hopefully tonight.” His fingers pump in and out of you, faster and faster, scissoring apart to stretch you open. “Even if that means rendering you useless and unable to resist me."

Tugging his own pants down, he spits in the palm of his hand before gripping his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times. “I considered just pulling you ass up for easiest access, but I want you to see me – to watch what happens when you disobey my wishes so severely.”

Since you’re completely dead weight, Fyodor has to manually spread your legs wide in order to slot himself between them, his grip tight underneath your knees. Then his lips are on your as he leans over you, the kiss forceful since you’re unable to reciprocate – not that you would’ve anyway.

The leaky tip of his cock as he revels in your inability to fight back is proof that he’s enjoying this immensely, the sick bastard. You want to scream out, thrash against him as his length slides into your cunt in protest of how unfair this is, how he can’t just decide to get you pregnant, but you can’t. You’re completely stuck just… taking it. Until his balls are pressed all the way against your ass, the puff of hair at the base of his cock tickling against your clit.

And somehow, you can feel it on the inside. You can feel the sting and burn as he pushes in and stretches you out, but can also feel… the pleasure. Maybe it’s the way your slack jaw falls open further at his first thrust, your body twitching, but Fyodor can tell. The way your body is forcing you to feel good against your wishes.

You grunt pathetically with every single thrust, legs hanging loosely around his waist and tongue lolling out of your mouth with drool pooling out of the corner. Fyodor is going mad with how much he loves this, how quickly he’s getting off from just using you without your permission. His violet eyes shine fiercely and the sick smirk on his face only grows as he fucks you harder and harder.

"Going to look so pretty pregnant, my beautiful doll,” he coos, massaging the soft fat of your tits. “So round and so full of my babies, so swollen you can barely walk, can’t even see your feet. You’ll need your darling husband’s help to even walk down the stairs,” he babbles, clearly just talking to himself.

“Do you like it, pretty? The way I’m just using you? It turns you on, doesn’t it? You and your body are mine, you know. I own you. And I own the right to use you however I please, to make you whatever I please.”

Of course, Fyodor had always been a bit possessive, always liked to call you his, but never to this caliber. Never to the point where you thought he’d do something like this.

His thrusts get faster and faster with every sick and twisted sentence, and though your hearing was fuzzy too, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoed through the room. Too wet to only just be his precum… were you wet? From what he was doing to you?

The orange light from the roaring fireplace illuminated Fyodor’s face in the most terrifying way, highlighting his sharp features, and igniting his eyes and sweat that had begun dripping down the sides of his face.

He leans in close, whispering into your ear. “Are you ready for my seed, doll? Ready for me to cum so deep inside you your womb is forced to take all of it?”

You’re able to shake your head a bit, and Fyodor clicks his tongue.

“You’re ready because I say so.”

You can’t feel it, but by the way his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, cock throbbing inside you, you can tell he’s cumming. Filling you up with the seed he promised to get you pregnant with.

After pulling out, he kisses you deeply.

“Before we go again, I will fetch you some more tea, my love. It seems you’ve regained some ability to move, and I can’t have that.”

#fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #bsd smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd x y/n

[shdysders]

the bet

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

summary: in which vada makes a bet, and unfortunately you're the victim to it.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, hints of alcoholism.

author’s note: hope you like! also if y’all feel like following an editing account on tiktok, mine is sdesnk!

Making bets are something everyone did as kids, whether it was about money, candy or chores. Everyone did it.

Vada grew up constantly making bets with her younger sister, which were pretty easy to win since Amelia would accept pretty bad ones without properly thinking them through.

Vada actually thought she was one of the best gamblers amongst everybody she knew. Until she met Nick. In her eyes he was a literal goddess at making bets, but also at winning them. He always came up with the craziest ones, things that Vada couldn't think of even if she tried.

Their friendship was filled with bets, they pushed each other to the limits, coming up with even more daring challenges and scenarios, putting their skills to the test.

Their parents hoped and prayed that they would grow out of it, thinking that all kids did eventually. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Vada and Nick, they kept going even though they had passed the inappropriate age for it.

Not even starting high school stopped them. It was their 'friendship language' as they called it.

"I bet you twenty dollars you won't tell the lunch lady this tastes like fucking shit." Nick spoke, playing around the food with a fork, a grossed out expression on his face.

Vada immediately shook her head, laughing. "Absolutely not!" She could never agree to bets where it involved being rude to someones face, let alone rude to someone in general, she had a filter, unlike Nick; who didn't care if he was hurting someone or not.

Nick smirked, now curiously looking around the cafeteria. A look on his face that only Vada could understand, he was looking for something to make a bet on.

"Okay fine, I bet you fifty dollars.." He started, the big amount of money immediately capturing Vadas attention. "That you won't ask out little Y/n right there."

Nick pointed behind Vada with his fork, an evil smirk placed on his face. She slowly turned to see where his plastic cutlery was pointing. And there you were, sitting all alone at the table a few feet away from them, headphones placed on your head. She could feel her eyes softened as she watched you. Your curious eyes scanning through the pages of the book you were reading.

There was nothing wrong with what you were doing, but in high school, people that sit alone are weird. Vada knew that's why Nick chose you out of all people he could've picked.

People around school used to talk about you, how you were too quiet for your own good, how nobody had heard you speak ever since you were asked to introduce yourself the first day of school, or how some people had forgot you were in their class.

Vada didn't understand quiet people. Growing up, loud was the first word people used to describe her. Her mouth always seemed to be this ocean of words that never seemed to run out. She had never experienced being anything else than talkative, so she would never be able to understand how people didn't like to talk.

She bit her lip as she watched you, actually considering taking the bet. Nick saw her hesitating, "You don't have to stay with her forever, just for like a week or two."

Vada thought hard. She did have to step up her game, Nick had done everything. Every single bet she gave him, and she was starting to grow poor because of it. He had done everything from telling Amelia her outfit looked horrendous, to telling Mrs Cavell that the dinner tasted like vomit.

It was only a week right? Couldn't hurt.

Vada turned back to Nick with a smirk on her face, taking out her hand for him to shake.

"Bet."

***

Vadas stomach was filled with nerves the next day, but she couldn't figure out why; it was just a bet, nothing of it was real feelings, and she had to do it, she couldn't risk loosing fifty bucks.

Nick had been teasing her since first period, telling her what a cute couple you guys would be. Which was making Vada feel uncertain, if she should do it or not.

When the time arrived at lunch Nick had already ran off to his 'second option friends' as he called them, leaving Vada all alone to approach you. You sat alone again; to no surprise, Nick had told her that you always did.

With no hesitation in her bones, she walked up to your table, standing in front of you; waiting for you to look up. And eventually you did, your eyes filled with curiosity scanned her figure, making Vada shift her weight from one leg to another, almost feeling judged.

"Do you want me to move? I can go to another table." You spoke rapidly, making Vadas gaze soften, did people really only walk up to you to say that they wanted your table?

Vada shook her head, hesitating before sitting down in front of you. "I'm here to talk to you."

You watched her carefully, as if what she was about so say would be something rude or humiliating.

You had history class with Vada, so you knew she was a very talkative individual, that's why you were so surprised when it looked like she didn't know what to say.

"I just..I–.. I've liked you for quite some time now, and I wanted to...ask you out." She spoke, stuttering and pausing way too much. "On a date." Vada ended, looking up at your shocked face.

Your mouth almost hung open, there was no way this was true. Vada Cavell asking you out on a date?

You couldn't believe it. A part of you was telling yourself that it was probably just a joke, that she was doing this for a laugh with her friends. But the other part of you couldn't help but let a smile creep up on your face.

You had always fancied the girl, but you didn't go anywhere with it since you were known for being too awkward around people, let alone somebody you liked. This could end in many ways, you knew that. Yet there was no hesitation in you when you answered the girl who was sitting in front of you.

"Yeah..Yeah sure." You nodded, "What are you thinking?"

Now that you asked that question, Vada didn't know what to answer. She hadn't thought this through at all. She had approached you without even giving a second thought to what she was about to do.

Vada had half a mind to just walk away and give Nick the fifty bucks. But looking into your eyes; that was filled with expectations and surprise, she decided to give in.

***

"How did it go?" Nick eagerly asked as the pair walked into the school building.

Vada rolled her eyes almost immediately as the question left the boy's mouth. "Fine." She answered simply while trying to flicker the lock to the right code for her locker.

Nick sighed, muttering something Vada couldn't make out. "I need to know details! Don't give me the cold shoulder, it's not my fault you accepted the bet." He ranted, faint frustration lacing his voice.

A sigh escaped from Vada's lips. "It went fine. She's actually really nice."

That was true. You were in fact really nice. You weren't much of a talker, that's why Vada held most of the conversations, which wasn't hard. You were a great listener, Vada went on and on about stuff you probably didn't care about for one bit, but Vada still felt like she was being heard.

Nick let out a snort at that, making Vada shoot him a glare. "Yeah? Because she was quiet the whole time?"

When Vada didn't answer, instead beginning to pick out books from her locker, Nick quietly apologized, realized he might've overstepped. But when she closed it and began walking to class, he caught up and continued.

"Soo.. did you kiss her yet?"

That made Vada spurt to a halt, her shoes making a squeak sound on the tile floor.

"What?" She looked up at him, confusion painted all over her face. "That was not a part of the bet."

Nick just smiled dumbfounded at her. "I know." He started walking again, happy to have brought at least some form of reaction out of the girl. "But I might add another fifty bucks if you do."

Vada walked rapidly to try and keep up with him. Kiss you? Why would she ever do that. Besides, he couldn't just change up the bet after it had already been made. That made no sense.

Although Vada knew that just a few hours back you and her were seconds away from locking lips, the interruption being Mrs Cavell bursting through the door unexpectedly. Which of course made you and Vada jump away from each other.

She didn't know why she thought it would be a good idea to kiss you. It was just in the moment. She didn't like you like that, she just thought there was a bigger chance for you to believe the whole 'feelings' thing if she did.

The date had begun with a dinner at some cheap, yet pretty decent restaurant, later on Vada took you back to her house thinking nobody else would be home; unfortunately she was wrong, but you didn't care. You had given Vada a bunch of compliments about how heartwarming and kind her family seemed, but Vada had just brushed it off.

"Yeah? And how would you know if I kissed her or not?" Vada questioned, her attention shifted towards the present moment.

Nick shrugged, "I don't know, set up a camera or something."

The statement made Vada grimace, but she didn't get enough time to answer him since he had already disappeared into his classroom, leaving Vada alone in the hall. Along with all the other students rushing around, trying to make it to their classes.

Lots of voices could be heard, every single one of them blending into each other so the words were all inaudible. Vada didn't give it any thoughts until she heard her voice being called.

She couldn't hear who it was over all the other voices, but when she turned around and saw that the person calling for her was you, she felt a small smile arriving at her lips.

"Y/n! Hi." Vada smiled at you, eyes flickering to your hands, who seemed to be fiddling with each other.

"So I was wondering.." Your soft voice spoke, "I really enjoyed our date last night, and I was wondering if you'd like to do it again?" You struggled to hold eye contact with her, eyes darting between the floor and Vada's eyes.

Vada bit her lip, thinking hardly. She was starting to feel bad. Did you actually think that the date was a serious thing? Did you actually think that she liked you?

She noticed that the small smile on your face was wiped off quickly, precisely because Vada didn't answer straight away, like you thought she would.

Vada opened her mouth to say that she was busy, but nothing came out. She felt bad. Your big doe eyes that were now filled of insecurity was staring into hers. She couldn't say no, not when you looked crushed at the fact that she hesitated at first.

You let out a sigh of relief when you received a nod from her. "Yeah, yeah absolutely." Vada tried to act as if she wasn't hesitating just seconds before.

"But we're going to your house this time right?" She asked before you had the opportunity to leave.

Now it was your turn to hesitate, but before you knew it your mouth had moved by itself, saying the exact opposite of what you were planning on. "Of course." You nodded.

"Tomorrow? We can walk there after school?" Vada questioned.

You tried to keep the confident look on your face, but it was hard. "Yeah.. Sure." You answered hesitantly.

Vada gave you a small nod and an awkward smile before turning on her heel, walking to class.

You silently cursed to yourself when she was out of your sight. Why didn't you just say no? There were thousands of other places you could've suggested.

You knew something like this would happen. You would either overshare something or say yes to something without thinking first.

You didn't have any friends, hadn't had for a long time either. So your social life wasn't very active, considering you barely talked to your parents at home.

When people don't have much social interaction, they might tend to overshare or be more talkative when meeting someone new, you were a great example of that. And you had learned that the hard way.

People left you all the time, hence to why you stopped making any kind of effort to engage with other people. Known as the reason for why people called you weird. But that's what high schoolers did, picked out people that weren't extroverted or social butterflies and recalled them as weird, starting all kinds of rumors in between.

You couldn't take her to your home. She would leave if she saw it.

***

'Tomorrow' felt sooner than expected.

By the time you walked out of your sixth and final period, when you saw Vada standing next to your locker; waiting for your classes to finish, you had already forgot the date you guys had planned. Being too busy the night before to clean up the mess your step father had made.

Vada looked as if she was debating something in her mind when you approached her, you obviously didn’t ask why, mainly because her expression quickly changed to a small smile when she saw you arriving.

You smiled back, feeling like this was your chance to change your destination to somewhere else. "Hey uhm, don't you think we should go somewhere else instead?" You started, watching as Vada furrowed her eyebrows.

"I just felt like my house won't be super 'romantic' or like..suitable for a date or whatever you want to call it." You rambled, feeling judged under Vada's expression.

Vada just chuckled when you finished talking. "I don't care if it's romantic at all." Because I don't like you the way you’re thinking, she wanted to continue. But of course she couldn't do that.

"We'll just a watch a movie on your laptop or something. You do have a computer right?" She checked.

You nodded unsurely. You weren't good at debating or arguing with people, so unfortunately you just gave in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe Vada would be different than all the other people.

The walk to your house went rather smoothly, Vada did the talking - as usual. This time you didn't ask any questions about what she was talking about, mainly because the nerves were getting to you, but also because you didn't listen to all of it; trying to figure out different scenarios on how it all might go down.

"Well. This is me." You spoke almost shakily, voice cracking with nerves. Vada didn't seem to notice, just inspecting the house from the outside.

Vada looked around for a moment, inspecting the other houses in the neighborhood. The house you were standing in front of looked rather neglected compared to the other ones. While every garden looked like it was taken care of neatly, yours looked like the grass hadn't been mowed for months.

The house was painted white on the brick walls, but tons of it had been peeled or flaked off; revealing the actual color of the stones.

Your gaze was set down to your shoes, not wanting to see Vada judging the shabby house.

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else?" You bit your lip, asking the question while staring down at your feet on the asphalt. You could see Vada's head turn to you in the corner of your eyes, a small smile placed on her face.

Vada could see that you were ashamed, ashamed over the fact that your house probably looked like a junkyard compared to what she had expected.

A part of her wanted to agree with you and go somewhere else, but she also didn't want you to be ashamed. Hence to why she shook her head.

"I'm sure." She replied softly, mentally slapping herself before she took your hand in hers, clasping your fingers. She had to make everything believable.

An electric surge ran through your veins as your skin touched. A form of bravery entering your body, making you take a deep breath before pulling you behind her up the faint path towards the stairs.

When the door opened, a cloud of cigarette smoke exploded in your face, nothing you weren't used to, but Vada on the other hand tried to contain her coughs by swallowing thickly.

Loud shattering from the TV was echoing in the house, which made Vada immediately turn her head towards where the couch was placed.

She could only make out the 'big' man on the couch, dressed in a man beater shirt, beer bottles covering the whole coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.

You tried to walk carefully, hoping he wouldn't hear you over the loud volume on the television. But the creaking of the floor failed you as it made the man on the couch turn his head faintly, not entirely, so he couldn't see Vada; who had now carefully walked further away, basically hiding behind you.

"Is that you Y/n?" His dark and raspy voice almost yelled, making you flinch. His voice sounded as if he hadn't spoken to anyone for a week, having to clear his throat while speaking.

You nodded, but realizing he couldn't see you made you speak up. "Yes.. It's me and a friend." Your voice sounded confident, which surprised Vada, because you surely didn't look so confident.

The word 'friend' made the man turn around fully. His angry gaze scanning Vada's body, making her feel judged in less than a second, feeling herself shrink.

"Sluts like you has friends?" He asked, almost laughing while speaking.

Your expression didn't change much. Although Vada could see the sadness and fear that appeared in your eyes.

You just nodded as a response, not wanting to talk any further; afraid that your voice would fail you.

Vada didn't say anything, she figured that the man didn't want her to introduce herself at all, so she didn't.

When the man kept on chuckling to himself and had returned his attention to the TV, you took the chance to pull Vada in the direction to your room.

"Was that your dad?" Vada asked as you closed the door to your room, carefully looking around.

It looked just like she thought it would, if she had to guess based on your looks and personality.

You had a bookshelf that was filled with books of all kinds, novels, thrillers, romance, you name it, everything was there. Your walls were covered with photographs that looked like they were self taken. You had a few plants placed on different surfaces, even a guitar leaning against a corner of the rooms.

"Step dad." You corrected, putting your hands in the back pockets of your pants. Carefully watching her face expressions as she inspected your room.

"He's a drunk with a short temper.. So.. I'm sorry if he scared you." You carefully spoke, not wanting for Vada to feel scared.

Vada quickly shook her head, her eyes catching your laptop on your bedside table. "Now.." she grabbed the computer with one hand, looking up at you with a smile, trying her hardest to lighten the mood.

"Are we doing this or what?"

***

Vada had done it. She had kissed you. On the lips.

It wouldn't have been a problem when she knew it was just a bet. It would have been fine if she didn't feel butterflies in her stomach when your lips touched hers. Everything would've been fine if she didn’t develop feelings for you.

She didn't know how she was supposed to tell Nick. Obviously she didn't have to, but her ocean of words would eventually expose her when she least expected it.

She had been trying to give Nick hints about it for the whole day, but he just laughed it off; assuming it was jokes about how she felt. Which made Vada feel irritated, it’s not like it’s impossible to catch feelings.

Vada had never excepted to grow fond of a quiet person like you. But you just made it impossible.

You were the greatest listener Vada ever came across. Most of the times when she talked or rambles to Nick, her family or basically anyone, she felt ignored half of the time, like they never payed attention to what she was saying.

But you did. You listened all the time. She didn't have to repeat the things she said or ask if you were listening. You were always nodding when she spoke, always smiling at her, nodding when she needed confirmation.

You didn't have much space to talk, but when you did, Vada felt like she could listen to it for hours.

You were pretty. Every single one of your features was something that Vada admired. She couldn't help it.

She hadn't realized the feelings she had for you until she had kissed you. Which almost made her regret doing it in the first place.

Two days had passed after the kiss, and another date had been planned to happen. Vada laid on her bed, hair sprawling everywhere, phone in her hand directed to her face with Nick on the other line.

"You went to her house?" Nick spoke, sounding satisfied and confused at the same time. A huge grin was placed on his face, making Vada realize he was going to tease her about this too.

Vada just nodded, scrunching her nose in false disgust; trying to play along with the whole 'you're super weird' thing.

"What was it like? Was her parents all quiet as well?" He kept going, almost making Vada annoyed. Before, his snarky comments about the different kinds of preconceptions he had about people didn't seem to annoy Vada at all, in fact she used to add things to them.

But the prejudices he had about you and your family made her frustrated. It made her think of the sadness and fear in your eyes the whole time you were in your own house, the way your hands almost shook when you had walked her to the door.

"It was fine." She answered simply, not wanting to hear him bash you or your family any further.

Nick seemed to notice that since he didn't ask more about it. But he still had questions, like he always did. About everything.

"When are you going to tell her it's just a bet?" He smiled, clearly enjoying the 'torment' he thought he was putting his friend through.

Vada shifted in her laying position, sitting up. A frown on her face as she spoke. "I don't know yet."

And that was true. Vada had no idea when she was going to tell you. The feelings she realized existed didn't help either. How was she supposed to tell you that the dates were fake? That she didn't actually like you.

"There's only a few days left of the week." The boy continued, putting even more pressure on her. Vada didn't feel the need to answer. She knew well enough that the week was coming to an end.

"She's supposed to come over in a few minutes so I got to go." She said, hinting to the guy on the phone that she didn't want engage in a further conversation with him about the subject.

Nick just laughed; something he seemed to do every moment Vada said something about you.

"Alright bye love bird. Make sure to kiss her today then." Nick waved at the screen, a proud smile painting his face. "I mean, if you want those hundred bucks."

Vada almost blushed at the words. The thoughts of the night not too long ago when your lips met filling her mind.

She hung up before Nick got the chance to see the tint of red that was starting to appear on her face; knowing how much he'd tease her about it if he had seen it.

When Nick's voice could no longer be heard in the room, she dragged both her hands down her face, sighing deeply out of relief. But it was quickly filled with tension again as she turned to check the watch on her bedside table.

You should've been here already.

Her eyes widened as she thought of the worst thing possible.

What if her mom had opened the door and let you in? That would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her. It was embarrassing enough that she had greeted you at the worst time possible the first time you came over; the first time you guys almost kissed.

Vada wasn't embarrassed of her mom, the opposite actually. But the problem was that Mrs Cavell always seemed to find the absolute worst moments to appear in. Always.

"Mom!" Vada shouted out, rapidly climbing out of her bed, almost stumbling on her own feet while landing.

"Mom, If someone knocks on the door it's for-" Vada began to yell again, opening the door to her room; that she had shut with force when Nick had called.

But she harshly interrupted herself when she saw who was standing in front of her.

You stood there. With a bouquet of roses in your left hand, your knuckles white from holding them for too long.

Your expression was unreadable, but Vada could see sadness in your eyes. And she couldn't figure out why. Then it hit her.

"H-how long have you been standing here?" She questioned, praying to all gods above that what she thought had happened, wasn't true.

"It was a bet?" Your voice sounded hollow, trails of shaking could also be heard. Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Vada began to panic. You had heard her. She didn't have a single clue on what she was going to answer. It was a bet before. But Vada was feeling like it wasn't now. That's why she had no idea what was about to come out of her mouth.

"No! I-I mean yes.. but no! It was but I'm starting to really feel like-" Vada rambled, her hands being all over the place as she spoke, trying to speak with her hands, but it didn't help since you interrupted her before she got the chance to finish.

"It's fine..Vada." You said softly. No anger in your voice at all. You shifted your weight from one leg to another before hesitantly moving the bouquet of roses towards the petite brunette, almost shoving it into her chest by the time it reached her figure, which resulted in her slowly taking them into her hands. She looked at the roses with a sad gaze, before she shifted her eyes up to you.

"I'm gonna go." You stated simply. Turning your body half way before making eye contact with Vada again. "I really liked you, Vada." You said, then you rapidly walked away down the hall.

"Y/n. I-" Vada tried, she wanted to chase after you, tell you about the whole situation. Even though the story she would tell you wouldn't be great either, she still wanted you to know how she felt; what she was about to say before you interrupted her with your soft voice that Vada adored. But nothing more came out. Her feet were glued to the floor, making her unable to move.

The last thing she heard was the door shutting. Making Vada grown loudly, cursing to herself at the fact that she allowed this to happen to begin with. She was the one that took this bet. It was all her fault. Maybe a little bit Nicks for making it, but still.

***

You didn't come to school the next day. As expected.

Nick had been asking Vada about the 'date' all throughout first and second period, not knowing that the date didn't happen, it didn't even get a chance to start before it was utterly and completely ruined.

She left the questions unanswered, not feeling the need to share the situation with him.

Vada also didn't feel like telling Nick she had kissed you. She didn't care if that meant she didn't get the added fifty bucks, she had gotten your trust instead of that. And then she ruined it.

She did get fifty bucks from Nick for 'completing the task' as he said it.

But she caused shattered a heart for it.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader

[kpopnstarwars]

NO NEED FOR ME TO HIDE🙏🏾🙏🏾

Bestie, are you going to continue Atonement universe?🥺 I am very curious on how their interactions could look like in the future, now that they have an accurate understanding of their intents

A/N: U ASKED JUST THE RIGHT QUESTION MY FAVOURITE BUNNY, but bc im evil i've made this into a bunch of feyd headcanons even tho no one asked

tw: 18+, smut headcanons (switch feyd ladies and gents), cannibalism (by the harpies), i dropkick everyone with feyd's trauma, therefore mentions of sa and pedophilia (fuck you vladimir), 'who did this to you' because man if that's not one of the yummiest things ever, nightmares, children and pregnancy, also sterility, swearing somewhere probably,

wc: 2.3k

part 1 (this can be read as a stand alone, it's just feyd headcanons)

feyd does everything he can to make up for how he treated you in the first months of your marriage

you assure him that it's fine, that he doesn't have to beat himself up over what he has done, but you still notice the pain in his eyes when he looks at you

he hovers close to you at all times, keeping a hand at the small of your back or pulling you close into his side

it's a strange process, only getting to know your husband in the fourth month of your marriage, but it's a process that you treasure

you'll ask him silly things from his favourite food to his opinions on the carvings on the table over there whenever the questions occur to you

it's late at night, while he's gently cleaning you up after sex or holding you tightly in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, when he tells you the deeper, more painful things

the grief in his voice is so raw as he describes to you how his uncle pitted him and rabban against each other from a young age, how his childhood was stolen from him - you ache for him, for the things that were taken from him before he could even fight for them

you find out about his nightmares soon after that - not because he tells you, but because one happens

you suspect there was something he wasn't quite ready to tell you, but you didn't press; no hands have handled feyd's heart the way he lets you, and you're determined to honour that privilege

a storm howls outside, and you think that the rumbles of thunder were what woke you

you turn over and realise it's feyd, his features contorted with fear even in his sleep, eyes rolling under the lids as he trembles, broken pleas leaving his lips

all you catch is a 'don't' and a 'please, uncle'

something cold slithers down your spine

touching his face, you grab his shoulder, shaking him, whispering his name, trying to wake him gently

a tear leaks down his cheek, and a meek sound leaves him, ripping your heart in two - you need to wake him up, free him from this dream

'feyd.'

his eyes snap open, and in them, you clearly see the expression of a trapped, cornered animal

you say his name again, and he looks at you sharply, unseeing

he's awake and yet somehow he's still trapped in the nightmare; he wraps his hands around your throat, and you gasp, nails digging into his forearms in an effort to wake him up

with precious air, you rasp out his name again, and he blinks, slowly gaining consciousness

his face crumples when he finds his hands around your neck

distress limns his features as he backs away from you, shaking his head, horrified by his own doing

your head spins with lack of air but you reach out to him, refusing to let him slip away - you snare him in your arms, hold him tightly, kiss his face

he doesn't move, afraid to hurt you

you pull back to stare him in the eyes

'i'm okay. i am okay. you hear me, feyd? i'm fine. i'm not hurt.'

he buries his face in your shoulder and when you feel hot tears on your skin, rage simmers and seethes, wrathful in your chest

'who did this to you?'

your voice is dripping with fury; he shakes with a sob, and you run your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him and the anger inside you

eventually, he calms, and you tilt his face up, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks, waiting

he holds out his arms again, and you oblige him, letting him hide his face in your shoulder as he tells you the substances of his nightmares - memories of the baron, eyes rabid, hands reaching, and it makes you tremble with rage

you crush feyd in your grip, and he clings onto you, his eyes wet, letting you anchor his drowning spirit

the two of you fall asleep twined together, feyd cradled in your embrace

in the morning, you cup his face in your hands and tell him that you will protect him, fight for him, love him until your blood stills in your veins

one of the first thing feyd does is dismiss his harpies from their duties

originally, he was going to get rid of them permanently, but you convinced him not to, telling him you wanted to meet them

to be honest, feyd didn't really understand (he thought you wanted to 'use' them for a bit and was kind of taken aback until you reassured him you just wanted to talk to them)

he stayed in the room anyways, knowing that his harpies could be jealous, but he had nothing to fear

all you do is chat to them, and in the same way you charmed him, you charm them

feyd marvels at the way you reach out to them and connect with them with so much ease, laughing and joking with them, complimenting their pretty eyes and tattoos as if they are your long time friends

from then on, they are no longer feyd's harpies, but yours

they accompany you around the palace and sometimes to court

the latter causes quite a stir; none of the nobles can make sense of why the na-baron's feral cannibal troupe are now dressed in fine clothing and following the na-baronness around

you enjoy their company - they brighten your day considerably, and are not afraid to make remarks a little too loudly in front of nobles

you have to hide your laughter when one of them comments on the scruffy facial hair of the duke addressing feyd, even more so when he stares at them wide eyed, a little fearful of them

in a way, they protect you and you protect them

if a noble approaches you with disrespect, they'll joke loudly among themselves about the taste of his flesh

in the same way, if someone makes a snide remark of their presence, you're quick to challenge it

the perplexed look on feyd's face amuses you to no end when he realises they prefer you now

feyd and the harpies teach you about harkonnen culture

feyd especially tells you stories about how he hunted on forests long cut down when he was a boy, and you love to listen to him, watching his face and drinking in the softer, nostalgic tone in his voice

he shows himself to you in little ways

feyd complains to you about the nobles in the court, how he hates their decorum and their entitlement

he talks to you for hours about different fighting forms, occasionally getting up to demonstrate them to you, and you marvel at the accuracy and fluidity of his movements

he takes you to his favourite parts of giedi prime, shows you the volcanoes and the less polluted parts of the capital city

he tells you the story of every scar on his body, and you find yourself captivated by the look in his eyes as he recalls a good fight

he whispers on your skin promises - promises of love, sweet on his tongue but never cloying, always true

in turn he asks you about your old life, about your home planet and your family

you answer happily, loving the way his eyes follow you, their blue tone becoming your favourite colour

you tell him about the time you visited to see him fight, how you saw the fire within him even then, and he chuckles, enthralled by the idea that even when the two of you were too young to really comprehend what your arranged marriage meant, you were still drawn to each other

he tells you how when he raised his knife, victorious, he spotted you in the crowd - a small girl, her back ram rod straight - and thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on

not that you seemed breakable to him; no, he thought you were formidable, too, not even bothering to hide your frown in an arena of cheering, happy faces

it felt right that he would marry a woman who wasn't afraid of him

feyd teaches you how to fight

he delights in the way you grow so bold with him, delivering snarky remarks if he teases you, rising to meet everything he throws at you

you're a good fighter - unpredictable in your moves - and he's immeasurably proud that he was the one who taught you

sometimes, once you're good enough to duel, you'll end up staggering to the nearest somewhat secluded area to fuck

now that you know you're not alone, you're so confident of yourself, confident in the electrifying look in your eyes and confident in the way you make him beg

feyd never thought he'd like to give up control, but with you it's addicting

he trusts you

he lets you ravage him, lets you use him until he's spent, panting, thighs shaking, knowing that you would let him do the same - knowing that you do let him do the same

there's something so raw about letting himself go in your touch

his head spins when you tie him up, your deft fingers checking the knots and tightening the bindings across his torso, making art with his skin as the canvas

feyd is addicted to you in every aspect

he can't get enough of your pussy; he'd spend hours between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that you didn't know you could make

he thinks that the closest he's ever come to heaven is when he's buried balls deep in your cunt while you beg him harder, faster

A/N: i couldn't choose between these two scenarios so have both

EITHER after almost a year, you begin to wonder why you haven't pregnant

especially with the way feyd fucks you

so you seek the help of a doctor - the test results come back a week after, accusatory, damning

you're sterile

your first reaction is to tell feyd, but once you find yourself face to face with him, his gaze concerned as he holds your waist, you can't tell him

you just fall into his arms, staying your tears, doubts crawling into your skull and gnawing at the edges of your mind

you can't give him an heir

there's no way around it

what if he takes a concubine? what if he realises you serve no purpose to him? what if he stops loving you?

feyd doesn't pry about the tests results until the next day when he finds you in the shower, hands trembling and head bowed

he tips your chin up so he can look you in the eye

'tell me what troubles you, my love.'

so you do, with his fingers curled around your waist, the shower water running over your skin

he kisses you once you finish, and it tears at his heart the way you're looking up at him, trying to hide the worry in your eyes as you wait for his reply

feyd doesn't mince his words when he tells you that he doesn't care if you cannot give him an heir, that all he asks of you is to let him love you - it's then that the tears fall, and he kisses them away, holding you close to him

you grieve for the children you can never have, but feyd remains by you, almost supernatural with the way he senses your pain

your gaze might fall upon one of the servant's children, causing an ache in your heart, and within a few seconds his fingers will twine with yours and he'll tuck you into his side, kissing your hair

OR you have twins: one girl, one boy

the girl is three minutes older than the boy

feyd is obssessed with your pregnant body; he always has his hands on you in some way

he gets more protective, if that's possible

sometimes he lies between your thighs, his palms spread over your stomach as he talks to the two of them, and the softness and wonder in his eyes brings a warmth to your chest

feyd is with you when you feel the first contraction and promptly carries you to the midwives

he lets you crush his hand in your grip as you give birth to the lives you've made together, wiping the sweat off your forehead and quietly encouraging you

the first time you hand them to him to hold, he's hesitant, hands fluttering over you as he figures out what to do, but he's a fast learner

there's a fierce protective glint in his eyes when he cradles them in his arms, one that you glimpse when he looks at you too, and within it there's a deep, pure joy

he teaches them how to fight, and yet he's still so gentle with them, laughing as they giggle and cling to him, one latched onto each leg

the girl is how you'd imagine feyd was as a boy: half feral, yet charming when she wants to be, while the boy is a little calmer, more unflappable, and happy to entertain his sister's mischievous endeavours

both love the harpies, and there have been multiple times when you walk in on the twins gaping wide eyed at the harpies as they regale them with old tales

sometimes, feyd will scoop them up, one in each arm, so they can reach up and give you a little kiss on the cheek before he pecks your lips

you think it's beautiful, the family that you've made with him

feyd loves the way you look at him, with that mischief in your eyes, as if you're sharing a secret with him

he loves your sweet laughter, the softness in your hands when you touch him and how you don't shy away from protecting him, defiant even in his uncle's presence

he knows he would kill for you, die for you - he'd do anything for you

you would do the same: it makes feyd's head fuzzy, when you get so fiercely protective over him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you glare at the baron, lacing your words with venom when you address him

you'd stop at nothing, just to protect his honour

when you're after something, nothing stands in your way, and yet you can handle him with such soft, gentle hands, banishing his nightmares with the light tracing of your fingertips on his back

feyd heals in your presence, and you grow in his

your love is eternal

#bald freak supremacy #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #dune #dune two #dune part two #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune ii #dune part ii #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha fanfiction #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune smut #atreides #house harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #dune x you #feyd oneshot #feyd x y/n #dune x y/n #feyd angst #feyd fluff

[erwinsvow]

when rafe meets you for the first time, he feels something he’s never felt before. you’re surrounded by your pogue friends and his stupid sister, laughing at a joke jj says, pushing pope’s arm gently, making a face at kie. he stares, lost in his own mind, wondering what the hell they’re saying to make you laugh like that, make you smile like that. 

he’s leering, he knows—wishing he could pull his gaze away but having more trouble doing so than he expected. you smile all pretty at your friends, lips pink and glossy, shining in the sun enough that he can see from where’s sitting. a beer rests in his hand, droplets of condensation gathering on his fingers. he can’t drink though, he’s too distracted. 

the way you twist your hair up and clip it with something silver. the sweat gathering on your neck, along your hairline, how you wipe it with the back of your hand. one of the boys—he can’t tell which one, and he’s glad, otherwise he’d probably go over there and start throwing punches—offers you a hand to guide you into the water, presumably to cool off. 

you shake your head to say no, and sweetly is the only word he can think of to describe how you do it. to describe you, everything about you—it’s so fucking sweet, he can taste it from over here. some of the others go into the water. you stay sprawled out on your beach chair, book resting on your stomach. you fiddle with the straps of your bikini top, yellow—that’s all he can make out—before you stand up, settling the book on the chair and walking towards him. 

he’s under the shade of the little bar on the beach, watching shamelessly, thinking he should look away now that you’re walking over, at least try to play it cool. he doesn’t. he takes a long sip of his beer, putting it down with a slam, harder than he intended.

as soon as you enter the cool shade, you sigh with relief. you take out the clip and let your hair fall down how it was, strands sticking to your neck where he wishes he could lick it off. you’re not two feet from him now, can’t really ignore how he’s staring at you either. 

“can i get a lemonade, please?” you ask the bartender politely, glancing over quickly at rafe. he’s still looking, making you flush and feel even hotter all over. you turn away within a few seconds.

“spiked?” the man behind the counter asks. rafe does move his gaze, finally, to stare at the guy—trying to make sure he’s not making you feel uncomfortable. 

you shake your head and the bartender turns back to get your drink. your eyes keep wandering back to rafe—big, bad, evil rafe. the one your friends always talk about. he’s cruel, they say, violent and angry and treats them badly. just for the principle of the thing, you should hate him. so why can’t you stop your eyes from flitting back to him every few seconds?

“that’s a good idea,” rafe starts. he’s quiet, just so the two of you can hear him, but you have to lean in further. the gap is shortened to just a foot now.

“hm?” you question innocently, not hearing exactly what he said. you’re surprised he’s even talking to you. 

“s’good idea, not to get it spiked. with this sun, you’ll get sick an' tired.”

“but you’re drinking,” you comment, gesturing to the beer in his hand. it looks almost empty.

“i’m not a fucking lightweight, though, that’s the difference.” he turns to see the bartender, chopping up a lemon for your drink. he thinks he has another minute, maybe two, with you.

“how d’you figure that? you don’t even know me.”

“you can just tell.”

“yeah?”

“yeah, kid.” he holds eye contact for a second too long, and you turn away smiling, face feeling so hot, like you’ve been basking in the sun for hours. rafe thinks mission accomplished for a second, smirking, but it dissipates quickly—your drink is ready and he sees jj walking up to where you are.

“can i get a straw?” you ask again, smiling all friendly at the bartender. he grabs you one from behind the counter and peels the wrapper for you.

“kie’s not gonna like that,” jj says, smiling down at you. you look at rafe though, which makes his heart thud in his chest. he likes that, a lot, more than he should.

“well it’ll just be our little secret, then,” you say, thanking the bartender and then taking a sip of the cold drink. 

“you ready?” jj asks, ignoring the entire situation in front of him. 

“yeah, just need to pay-”

“i got it, kid,” rafe says, grabbing his wallet before you can move. you look at him curiously for a second, eyes big, pretty smile shining again. 

“wow, how generous from the millionaire. c’mon,” jj says, and you get up but you don’t want to.

“thanks, rafe,” you say, even sweeter than before. he enjoys how your name rolls off his tongue, wishes he could hear you say it again. 

“no problem,” he says quietly. jj puts his arm around your waist to guide you away, which would normally be enough to warrant at least a single punch, but you look back once, then twice, sneaking a glance back at rafe, still smiling big, bringing the straw to your mouth and sipping. “i’ll be seeing you around," he says, under his breath, just to himself.

#hmmm what is this? who knows #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #the implication of the clip is that reader has hair long enough for it im sorry! #please ignore if this doesnt apply to u. in that case it's a barrette. rafe just doesnt know what that is.

[yourlocaljonghoe]

Unspoken Desires. || Song Mingi.

Summary: You find out about your boyfriend's secret fantasy and suggest trying it out immediately, wanting your man to feel as good as possible. Who would've thought it would bring you as much pleasure as him...

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: Dom!Reader x Sub!Mingi (kinda?), Reader is described to have big boobs, Tit fuck, teasing, both degrading & praise (Mingi receiving), cum on chest, cum eating, fingering, oral, edging, squirting

A/N: Not me posting twice a week?!?! Yeah, it will never happen again, lol. Anyways, this is my first full smut! Had this fantasy with Mingi for so long, it's about time I finally wrote it. Hope it isn't too bad, but I actually kinda like this very innocent drabble🥰 Thanks a lot to my lovely beta @wingsofimagery, you're such a blessing. Divider credits to @firefly-graphics.

Taglist: @yunho-mp3 @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie

“You are so fucking pathetic, aren't you? So obsessed with my boobs, hm? Why did you never tell me how badly you wanted to fuck them, Mingi? Tell me,” you whispered, pushing your tits together, making the man before you groan and whine, “how badly do you want your fat cock in between them, big boy?”

He swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing crimson red as he struggled to find the right words to respond to your teasing.

“I... I don't know,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze, unable to meet your intense stare, “I never thought you'd be interested in... that.”

You couldn't help but smirk at his flustered response, a surge of satisfaction rushing through you as you watched him squirm under your scrutiny. With a teasing glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, pressing your breasts together enticingly as you whispered, “But you are interested, aren't you? Tell me, Mingi. How badly do you want your cock between my tits? I heard you moaning earlier, Min. Don't you dare lie to me now.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your provocative words, his eyes darkening with desire as he met your gaze once more.

“More than anything,” he admitted, his voice hoarse, filled with need and eagerness, “I've dreamt about it for so long, but I- I never thought-”

“Don't think too much, big boy. Do it instead. Now's your chance,” you murmured, seizing the opportunity to take control once more, guiding Mingi's hands to your breasts as you pushed them together, creating a tight, inviting crevice for his big, throbbing cock.

“Show me what you've been dreaming about.”

With a wicked, almost evil smile, you watched as Mingi took the bait, his hands eagerly grasping your breasts as he positioned himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, pressed against your soft flesh, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine.

As Mingi's cock slid between your big breasts, you let out a soft moan of pleasure, relishing in the sensation of his hard length pressing against your skin. Fuck, you were starting to enjoy this yourself, and not just because of your eager, boob-obsessed boyfriend.

His hands, firm yet gentle, squeezed your breasts firmly together as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that sent waves of desire through your body.

“F-fuck babe, do you like that too?” Mingi whined. You loved to see this big, strong man being such a mess for you and your tits, and you had to agree; seeing his fat cock between your boobs made you almost cum on the spot.

You couldn't help but grin at his words, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the obvious effect you were having on him.

“I've been thinking about this too,” you admitted, your voice filled with need as you arched your back, pressing your breasts even closer together, “I want to feel every inch of you, Mingi.”

“You've been driving me crazy with those tits of yours. I-it's about time I got to enjoy them properly,” your boyfriend said, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Cum on my tits, Mingi, please,” you begged him breathlessly.

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his movements becoming more and more sloppy as he sought to please you.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire as he quickened his pace, his cock sliding effortlessly between your slick breasts.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, and the fire of desire within you reached entirely new heights.

“I love it when you fuck my tits like this, Mingi,” you moaned, your voice dripping with arousal, “You're such a good boy for me, aren't you? Such a filthy whore and all that just to get your stupid, fat cock between my tits.”

Mingi's breath caught in his throat at your words, his movements faltering for a moment before he regained his rhythm with renewed determination. The primal sound of his grunts and groans filled the air, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you urged him on.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encouraged, your voice a desperate plea for more, “I want you to use my tits however you like, Mingi. Fuck them until you can't hold back any longer.”

Mingi's pace quickened at your command, his cock driving relentlessly between your breasts. The tension in the room grew with each passing moment, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and desire.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he chased his release.

But you weren't ready to let him finish just yet. You wanted to draw out the pleasure, to savor every moment of this intense intimacy with Mingi. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to keep him on the brink without pushing him over.

“Please,” Mingi whimpered, his voice pleading as he rocked against you, his cock aching, precum already oozing out of his sensitive tip, “I need to... I need to cum.”

“Not yet, big boy,” you teased, your voice dripping with wicked delight, “I'm not finished with you.”

With that, you took full control, setting a slower, more deliberate pace as you guided Mingi's movements. You reveled in the power you held over him, the way this big, strong man entirely surrendered to your touch, nothing but shameless moans and whimpers leaving his plush lips.

Mingi's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with anticipation as you brought him to the brink again and again, teasing him with the promise of release yet never fulfilling his wish.

“I can't,” Mingi cried out, desperate to finally cum, “C-can't hold it in any longer- shit!”

“Do it,” you ordered, your breasts jiggling as you made yourself bounce on the soft bed, “paint me in your cum, babe.”

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Mingi finally reached his peak, his hot seed erupting from his cock in thick, creamy ribbons that splattered across your breasts. You watched in awe as he came undone, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself between your tits. With trembling hands, you reached out to scoop up some of his cum, bringing it to your lips with a wicked smile.

You savored the taste of Mingi's essence, reveling in the salty sweetness that danced across your tongue. It was a heady, intoxicating flavor that left you craving more, your desire for him only intensifying with each delicious drop.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Min,” you purred, your sultry voice lulling him in completely, and all Mingi could do was watch you continue licking his cum from your fingers, making him slowly go insane. He couldn't believe how bold and shameless you were, and yet, he found himself utterly captivated by your uninhibited display of desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice filled with lust as he watched you, “You... you're incredible.”

You met his gaze with a grin on your face, your lips glistening with his release as you continued to tease him with your tongue swirling around your cum soaked fingers. The sight of you enjoying his cum sent an entire new surge of pleasure right through Mingi's body, his cock already twitching with renewed arousal.

“You like that, Mingi?” you purred, your voice dripping with seduction as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, “Do you like seeing me taste you like this?”

Mingi could only nod in response; his mind clouded with desire as he watched you. He had never felt so desired, so wanted, and it was driving him wild and crazy.

“God, yes,” he groaned, his voice hoarse as he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your lips, “I love it. I love everything about you.”

You smirked at his admission, feeling immense satisfaction at your effect on him. Mingi may have been the big, strong man on the outside, but on the inside, he was just as vulnerable and needy as you were, if not even more.

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe, adoration, and lust. He couldn't believe what had just happened, couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be with you like this.

“You... you're amazing,” he stammered, his voice still shaky from the intensity of his climax “I've never... I've never felt anything like that before.”

You smiled at him, dropping the act of the dom persona he loved, your heart swelling with affection at his words.

“You were pretty amazing yourself,” you replied, your voice soft with affection as you reached out to stroke his cheek, “I've never met anyone who could fuck my tits like you do.”

Mingi's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at your words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't believe he was hearing such words from you, couldn't believe that you actually enjoyed being with him like this.

“I... I'm glad you liked it,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned into your touch, big, doe eyes staring up at you, “I've been... I've been dreaming about this for so long. Thanks for fulfilling that wish of mine.”

“You're welcome. But babe,” you whined, a pout appearing on your face, “I haven't cum yet. Don't you think that's a little unfair, big boy?”

Mingi's eyes widened at your words, a mixture of surprise and concern flashing across his face. He hadn't even realized that you hadn't reached your own climax yet, busy consumed in his own pleasure.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine remorse as he realized his mistake, “I got carried away; I didn't mean to…”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his earnest response.

“It's okay, Mingi,” you reassured him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips, “But now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

Mingi's eyes sparkled eagerly as he met your gaze, a newfound confidence rushing through his body.

“I'm going to make you cum, babe,” he declared, his voice filled with conviction as he leaned in closer, “I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel good.”

With that, Mingi set to work, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of your body with skill and determination. He kissed and licked his way down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he made his way to your throbbing core.

You whined and begged, eager for your own release after waiting so long, but despite your boyfriend's skilled tongue and long fingers, which usually got the job done pretty quickly, your orgasm continued to stay out of reach.

Because there was one thing and one thing only on your mind: his big, fat cock sliding between your tits, and how much he loved it, looking all pathetic and hungry as he practically humped you.

“Mingi,” you cried out, a tear rolling down your cheek out of frustration, “It's not working!”

Helplessly, he looked up from between your legs, and you saw a hint of self-consciousness flickering in his eyes.

“Babe, what am I doing wrong? Y-you usually cum with my tongue and fingers.”

“It's not you, Mingi,” you reassured him, your voice thick with emotion as you reached out to stroke his hair lovingly, “You're doing everything right. It's just…”

You blushed deeply, hiding your face in the pillow out of shame.

“Hey, you can be honest with me, babe. Don't hide from me,” your boyfriend whispered.

“Please fuck my tits again!”, you practically screamed into the pillow. Mingi's eyes widened in surprise at your confession, a mixture of disbelief and arousal flickering across his features.

“You mean... that's what you need?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “B-but how is this pleasurable for you, babe?”

“I can't stop thinking about it,” you admitted, “please, Min, please do it again. J-just like earlier.” A surge of desire swept through you at the thought, your body trembling with anticipation as Mingi's eyes darkened with desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his voice rough with need as he crawled up your body, his cock twitching with anticipation. “I can do that. I can give you what you need, babe.”

Mingi couldn't fucking believe his luck, the thought of how you enjoyed the tit fuck just as much as he did made him hard immediately.

He remembered the way he had moaned and begged for more just minutes earlier, and now, seeing you wanting it as much as he did, the man was determined to give you exactly that.

With that, he positioned himself between your breasts once again, his cock throbbing with need as he pressed it against your soft flesh. You gasped at the sensation, the heat of his arousal searing through you as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm almost immediately. The friction of his hard length against your skin sent shivers of pleasure racing through your veins, building the fire of desire within you to new heights.

You moaned and whimpered, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body as Mingi pounded your tits with increasing fervor.

The sight of him lost in pleasure; his face contorted with concentration as he sought to please you, only served to fuel your own desire. You reached up to cup your breasts, guiding Mingi's movements as you urged him on, desperate for more of the exquisite pleasure only he could provide.

“Mingi,” you gasped, your voice filled with need as you rocked against him, your body trembling with anticipation, “Fuck me harder, big boy. I need to feel you deep between my tits.”

Mingi's breath hitched in his throat at your words, his eyes darkening with desire as he quickened his pace, the bedframe crashing against the wall with each of his hard thrusts.

You could feel your climax slowly building, and just a few seconds earlier, waves of pure ecstasy were crashing over you, sending you spiraling into bliss as Mingi's cock pounded relentlessly between your breasts.

“W-wait Min, s-something isn't right-”

Without warning, a powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, and you felt a gush of fluid erupt from your body, soaking both you and Mingi in a warm, sticky spray. You cried out, whimpering and moaning and screaming while Mingi watched in awe as you came apart beneath him, his own arousal reaching its peak as he continued his pace relentlessly. But for you, his eager movements faded into the background completely. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as you realized what had just happened. You just squirted for the first time.

“O-oh my god,” you gasped, your cheeks flushing crimson as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation, “I'm so sorry, Mingi. I didn't mean to-”

But before you could finish your sentence, Mingi reached his high, his hot seed erupting once again from his cock in thick, creamy spurts that landed on your breasts and stomach.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes wide open, watching your pussy release more and more fluid. “That's so hot, babe. I had no idea you could do that.”

“Me neither”, you said.

Despite your initial embarrassment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at Mingi's reaction. He wasn't repulsed or disgusted by your body's natural response; instead, he found it incredibly arousing and exciting.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you reached out to pull Mingi closer, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“Does that mean I can fuck your tits every time I want, babe? Since you loved it so much, you even fucking squirted?”, Mingi asked breathlessly, a huge grin on his swollen lips.

“Maybe, since you're such a good boy. You'd like that, huh?” you teased, your voice hoarse from all the screaming, “You really like seeing me enjoy a quick tit fuck this much, huh— dude, don’t tell me you're getting hard again?!”

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #mingi #song mingi

[dazai-ritualist]

Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3

- rose anon 🌹

AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.

— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA

a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.

living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.

yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.

and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.

when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.

you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.

in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.

when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.

after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.

your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.

your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.

you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.

did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.

the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.

his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.

why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.

word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.

convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.

and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.

all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.

as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.

oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor the radio demon #human alastor #yandere alastor #yandere

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

RANDOM COD HC’S FOR MY GIRLS.

- König it’s, how do I even describe him, like, nothing about your body disgusts him. Nothing. He will fuck you sweaty, he will fuck you clean, in a tent, in the middle of a forest, unwashed for who knows how long, at the base, he really doesn’t give a fuck, his love for you is really greater then some unexpected impossibility to be clean and perfect. He loves his little wife in each and every aspect of life <3

- König is dirty and he doesn’t give a fuck. He will eat your pussy, eat your ass, lick your thighs, bite, spit and kiss whatever and whenever he feels like. He’s just a man I guess, and he’ll moan and bitch about it! “Why not!! Please, I’ll eat your ass after if you let me fuck it! Please it’ll feel so good!” And he’ll ask and plead, knowing that you’re not giving it to him on purpose, you want him to either take it himself or just want to overwhelm and overstimulate him so much that he’ll literally ask you on his knees! Such evil little wife he found for himself! Give him your ass please :( he needs it! He wants to be dirty with it.

- König is getting old, his stamina is probably not near as high as it used to be, but he still manages, and if you’re particularly horny and he just can’t meet your needs, he’ll gladly let you use him as a human sex toy. He doesn’t care, ride him till he cries and begs no more, straddle his face and use it to get off until you’re satisfied! Bonus points if you stick a vibrating dildo inside, forcing him to lap at your clit till you cum on his face (forcing? He’s never forced, he’d live between your thighs if you’d let him). He is just a silly little man enjoying his wifey. (Ahem whore ahem)

- Y’all know who else is a whore? Yes, GHOST! Don’t let his mask fool you, don’t let his voice and his body language tell you otherwise, he whines and moans like a bitch the moment you get on top. He enjoys getting trashed around too! Slap him a bit, praise him but not too much, remind him he’s still a whore for letting his silly little wife treating him like this! He will only get harder tho, pleading you to treat him like a bad boy and teach him manners! Grab his chin and force him to look you in the eyes while you ride his cock, he’ll be done in 5 minutes, his cock overstimed and his balls EMPTY!

- Simon may love giving you control, mainly because he lives a live where he always needs to be in control, always aware and attentive, so he likes to be able to leave it all to you, not being the one in charge from time to time feels good, and he’s not scared about it, because he knows that his sweet wife will take care of him… but he does enjoy the power imbalance between you two. He will get hard thinking about you as a soldier, how he’d make you his favorite and use you whenever he feels like it. He’d have you prettily taking his cock from under his desk as he revises documents, or in his private bedroom where he’d eat your pussy and fuck your tits, making you all nice and dirty! He’d fuck you in the communal showers too! Full Nelson while you face the main door, the ecstasy and adrenaline coming from the fear of being seen making the experience lot more exiting. He actually brings you to the base, finds you a pretty uniform and keeps you with him for two weeks. You’re happy about spending time with your hubby, but by the time you both come back home, your pussy’s already sore and used! Poor Simon couldn’t pass upon this chance.

- Simon will use the rare opportunities you shower together to make you squirt. This man invested in the shower installation! You better believe he’s USING IT! He’ll play with your pussy, making you stand while he kneels between your legs, eating and biting your pretty clit, then turning the shower head on, regulating it on a particular pattern for the water to come out, and using it to stimulate your clit while he fingers your and kisses you pelvic area <3

- Listen Price enjoys his blowjobs/handjobs! He enjoys you all fucked up and crying on his cock, still not giving up because you want to pleasure him by all means! Such sweet pretty thing like you, you’d be on your knees for hours if it means making him feel good! He likes to reciprocate tho, that’s why 69 is his favorite and his to go position from when he just wants to savor your lips on his cock, but still wants you to feel good too.

- Price is innocent looking, his smile always sweet and bright, but having him home is always a challenge! He’ll grab, slap and manhandle you around whenever he wants to! Just to show you how easily he can take you everywhere he wants (all consensual ofc). He is for free use, something you agreed upon seeing how high your libidos were. He will rile you up, purposely getting you all wet and heated up, then he’d suddenly let you go and proceed with his tasks. Let’s just say that one day he got on your nerves with his teasing, touching you inappropriately and talking to you like you were a little slut (his slut!), then purposely leaving you there in the living room, horny and pathetic. You found him in the kitchen, completely laid on the floor, his upper body under the kitchen sink, checking the tube. You could not pass upon such rare chance, you get on top of him, and in 3 seconds his cock is out of his pants and pressing against your wet and hot entrance. He is confused for a bit and when you take him inside with one fast thrust, he can’t do anything but let you, he lets you fuck him like that, milking him dry while his torso and head are still under the fucking sink! He can’t even properly see you, just your pussy taking his cock and your tits bouncing! Tsk, he’s love to see your pretty face, all contorted in pleasure, well that’s his punishment for doing this to you I guess! All he had to do was be a good hubby and fuck you when he had the chance to :(

#cod x reader #cod #cod mwii #ghost cod #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader smut #captain price #price x reader #ghost smut #price smut

[rosiesmuts]

After Dark

BLACKPINK Rosé  Words: 3,000  Tags: 🍑

Whoever said nothing good happens past 2AM has clearly never met one Park Chaeyoung. An unexpected knock on your door brought upon the greatest present a man could ask for.

"Hello Rosie."

"Fuck you. You know I hate when you call me that." A side eye reserved for only the most despicable is thrown your way.

"Oh I know. Why do you think I keep doing it?"

Rosé sucks her teeth, scoffing in your direction as she pushes you out of the way to invade your living space.

"So why are you here? Didn't you just get back from your tour?" You already knew the answer, but you wanted her to say the words out loud.

"What are you? Some kind of fucking stalker?" She's always the quick witted one, never making it easy with a game of cat and mouse.

"I'm the stalker? I'm not the one who shows up unannounced at people's houses in the middle of the night."

An idol with multiple talents, one of them lesser known to the general public–able to switch from devil to angel in a blink of an eye. She stares you down, her hips swaying side to side as the distance between the two of you dwindles. Your back is against the wall, her tight little body is pressed against yours, her knee raised up right under your crotch to trap you in place. Both hands roam underneath your shirt, her nails harshly digging in as she feels around your chest.

"Oh? You don't want me here? I can take a hint, just tell me to leave and I'll get out of your hair…" 

Her angelic voice didn't match her devilish actions, her fingers nimbly trail down your chest and stomach. She works her left hand into the elastic of your sweatpants–wrapping her delicate fingers around your shaft, squeezing it tightly but refusing to stroke. Her other hand cups your face, you’re left wondering how the situation flipped so quickly.

“So should I leave?” 

Fuck. You shake your head, which brings the divine feeling of her hand methodically pumping away. It's an incredible thing. How a woman so tiny could have you wrapped around the palm of her hand. In an instant, your pants are wrapped around your ankles, she's on her knees, her gaze staring into your soul looking up into your eyes. 

Her soft fingertips gently graze against your balls, her warm breath lingering around the tip of your cock. You're left speechless, completely enamored by the gorgeous face nearly pressed against you. She spits on your cock, using slow agonizing strokes, and repeating this process until it's completely lathered in saliva. 

Rosé continuously teases, little flicks of her tongue gathering up every drop of precum. Her eye contact never breaks, opening up her mouth, merely seconds away from her lips wrapped around. The power of her seductive eyes was too strong, your eyes closed, head leaned back, already imagining the heavenly embrace of her warm mouth.

Your eyes pop wide open. ‘What the fuck?’ Your immediate thought when what was supposed to be immeasurable pleasure is instead met with great pain. She lets out an evil laugh, her grip on your balls ever tightening.

"You think I came all the way here to suck your cock?" She spits on your cock again, this time any sense of seduction gone and replaced with only disgust. Your face contorted in displeasure, the stranglehold of your precious jewels solely left to her whims. 

A groan of frustration as Rosé pops back to her feet, dragging you by the cock into the bedroom. Even in the shroud of darkness, she’s easily able to navigate your quarters, instinctively finding her way onto your bed. 

“Don’t waste my time.”

Her voice could only be described as a cold and emotionless jeer. But that couldn’t take away what was presented right in front of you. A beautiful sight that no words could ever sully: Rosé bent over on all fours, her delectable body just waiting to be taken. 

How easy it would be to go dive right in. But that's exactly what she wants. A little bit of payback was required. She needed to be teased, tested, to be shown who was in charge. 

Simple light kisses on the nape of her neck causes her whole body to tense up with light moans fluttering about. The flimsy fabric separating you from greatness stands no chance, easily torn in half and tossed away, the cost of the designer garment not even in consideration. Your lips trail down covering every surface of her slim back with gentle kisses, reaching your hands around, small sensitive nubs hardening in between two fingers. When you reach the small of her back, there’s a lingering pause for two different reasons:  taking in the visual perfection of her body and to leave her longing for more. 

The second obstacle. Another piece of flimsy fabric standing in your way, but this time you keep them on for one simple reason–they needed to be soaked through with her juices. Through the most frustrating barrier, two fingers gently graze against her outer lips, her moistness already seeping through to coat your fingertips and down her thighs.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask, feeling the warmth radiating off of her. 

She's clearly enjoying it, letting out light moans, but she shakes her head, wagging her butt back and forth.

Every fiber in your being was telling you to stop, to torture her as she did to you just a moment ago. But her cute little ass was simply too irresistible. Too delicious to even think about stopping now, pulling down her panties just enough to expose that cute little ass. 

“Oh my gosh!”

She screams out from just the first light lick–an unexpectedly cute response to this otherwise depraved activity. This was your specialty, the thing that set you apart from all the nobodies who didn’t have Park Chaeyoung bent over in their bed. Rosé moans softly as your tongue explores her innermost depths. Each flick of your tongue soft and gentle, yet sending waves of pleasure through her body. She’s caught under your spell, your tongue like a magic wand, caressing her most intimate and sensitive areas with a skill that leaves her trembling and wanting more.

Every lick and caress sends her further into the abyss of bliss, completely at your mercy and you knew it. Her body tenses as you continue your ministrations–your tongue alternates from circles and figure eights, teasing and tantalizing her in ways like your life depended on it. The plan coming into great fruition, her panties completely soaked through, steady streams of delicious liquid flowing down her legs.

“Feels so good…” she let out, unable to catch her words until it was too late.

“What was that?” you pause, taking great pleasure in seeing Rosé quiver beneath you.

She’s close, it’s painfully obvious, you know her body more than she likes to admit. Her fingers dig into the sheets, tethering on the cusp of release–her heavy moans grow louder and louder as you worship her ass. Her inhibitions melting away with each passing second of your warm tongue tracing circles around her most sensitive hole. But then you remembered how cruel she could be. Her budding orgasm is only met with disappointment when you take your tongue away, gasping out in shock as you rip her panties into pieces, placing your hand firmly across her ass. 

"Tell me what you are Rosie." You command, your voice low, yet authoritative, your hand rubbing her ass with wicked intent. 

Again that name. You knew what response it would invoke, each party fighting for just the slightest edge of control. The look of anger in her eyes tells the whole story, her gaze piercing your soul while looking back at you with vitriol. She knows exactly what you want to hear, but refuses to give in, gritting her teeth as she shakes her head. What comes next is something she hates, yet strangely desires.

A harsh spank sends jolts of electricity through her entire body. The initial feeling of pain is chased by an overwhelming desire to be dominated. The harsh slap of your hand on her ass is followed by another. Then another, her cheeks getting redder with each subsequent spank. 

"Say it Rosie!"

Rosé screams in pain, each harsh spank on her supple ass stripping away her resilience. While she secretly loved this treatment, her tolerance can only go so far; her face is flushed with shame as she forces herself to say the words out loud. 

"I'm your little fuck doll…" it was hard to think a voice that could fill stadiums could also sound so timid.

There's nothing more satisfying than hearing her say those words–knowing that she hated herself for saying it makes it doubly so. Here she was, a world famous idol with literal tens of millions of fans reduced to nothing more than a personal plaything in your hands. She was your toy, your possession, and you could do with her as you pleased. The tension in her torso releases, thinking it was finally over with her admitting defeat.

"I couldn't hear you!" One more swift slap against her ass and she screams out as the shock, pain, and pleasure reverberates from the top of her head all the way down to her toes.

"I'm your little fuck doll!"

"Good girl," you cheekily respond, your hands tenderly soothing the spots where you slapped her skin. For just a brief moment Rosé thought you were actually a decent human being. However that thought is quickly forgotten, your hands spreading apart her cheeks and she remembers what a piece of shit you really are.

"Are you ready for what you came here for?" 

Rosé has no time to respond. She gasps, her head spinning as you push the tip of your cock against her asshole–slowly stretching her out as you push further in. 

And there it was, the confusing satisfaction of pain as you stretched out her tight little hole. The entire reason Rosé loses all logical sense with you. She hated herself for being here, laying in your bed, willing to do whatever you asked. She hated herself for being addicted to you, your cock–her discovery of how good pain can feel has been her downfall.

Yet she still let out low moans, her body betraying her mind, slowly submitting to your every demand. Her ass is tight, perhaps too tight, bordering on the line of it painfully gripping your shaft. Pain is what's part of the fun, taking a fair bit of effort to push in and out, but something that's completely worth it.

But then it gets easier, her tight little hole adjusting, stretching out to take in more and more of your length. Beforelong, her body starts shaking underneath your rough pounding, each thrust harder than the last. Rosé bites her lip, a desperate attempt to contain her moans, but it's an impossible task–the sensation of your thick cock completely filling her up makes her scream out. It becomes a personal mission to hear her honey moans even more. 

Her sensitive nipples harden underneath your touch and just the lightest touch of her clit elicits an immediate response when you graze it with your thumb.

Now stimulated from multiple points, Rosé is quickly becoming undone, the pressure of your thumb increases while it circles her clit, your other hand full on groping either of her tiny tits. Endless moans echo the room with growing frequency–losing any sense of decency with her body succumbing to the pleasure.

"I'm gonna make you squirt all over these fucking sheets."

Rosé shudders at those words, knowing her fate was inevitable. Regretfully enjoying your rough treatment, an impending eruption started to build within her core and she could do nothing to stop it. Like a prophecy coming true, her body tenses up, the euphoric feeling in the pit of her stomach threatens to release at any moment.

Somewhere in between a moan and a scream, she lets out a deafening cry, losing all strength, her arms giving out, her body flopping on the bed. A warm viscous fluid flowing out of her pussy as her orgasm rips through her entire body. She almost starts to feel embarrassed at the amount of fluid that continues to flow out of her, but that feeling is quickly taken over by something else.

A swift slap of her ass snaps her back to reality. 

"Did you just cum all over my bed?"

Rosé nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Now laying in a prone position, her body is on full display: her slim elegant body covered in a thin layer of sweat, legs that never seemed to end, and to top it all off is an ass that was way too shapely to belong to someone so slim. 

Seeing her squirt gives you a much needed second wind. Rosé has no escape from your almost animalistic desire for her body. Chasing after the blonde haired beauty, your thrusts continue with a renewed vigor, her entire body quivering as you fuck her with such force that she practically embeds into the sheets. Her first orgasm still felt throughout her body, she's helpless in your grasp, her face buried in a pillow, a last ditch effort to stifle her moans. 

Hearing her carnal noises was the best part; you tug on her long blonde hair and her beautiful moans once again echo in the air. Her upper body arching back while you continue to pound her ass gives you the perfect opportunity. "Do you ever let anyone else fuck you in the ass?" Your voice practically growls into her ears.

Rosé shakes her head, her brain tortures itself at the unbelievable amount of pleasure coursing through her.

"Use your voice Rosie," you tug at her hair even harder. She shudders in disgust hearing you call her this name, but she's in no position to argue–pushed far past the point of caring. She's been through this before and knows what you want to hear.

"Naur! You're the only one allowed to fuck my ass!" Rosé screams out, her lack of restraint on full display, willing to say or do anything to continue this incredible feeling.

"That's right." An evil laugh escapes, letting go of her long locks to grab two handfuls of hot idol ass–your fingers digging into her flesh as you relentlessly thrust into her.  "That's because this ass belongs to me." 

Seemingly something inside Rosé snapped. Thinking about nothing else besides the thick cock stretching her out to her limits. She looked back, her eyes practically begging. 

"Fuck me harder! Give your little fuck doll everything you've got!"

There were no words that could be more beautiful. Rosé has given up any sense of pride–fully embracing her role as your personal fuck doll. She feels so small in your hands, her entire waist being engulfed in your hands. So delicate and so small, seemingly possible to snap in two at any given moment. And yet here she was, begging you to fuck her even harder. You give her exactly what she asked for, pulling up her hips, her tight pert ass now up in the air. Rosé is the first to act, rocking her hips back and forth, her tight, fleshy paradise threatening to already milk you for everything you're worth.

There was no way you could give up control, holding her hips in place while driving her into the bed. Rosé's given up all sense of restraint, her moans come freely and in abundance. A rough rhythm is found, the exploration of her svelte physique could never truly be satisfied. 

Just when she thought her body was already pushed to its limits, endorphins continue to rush into Rosé’s brain, her asshole filling up with ecstasy as she receives the fucking of her life. She screams out, another orgasm flowing through her–her body writhing and squirmy, her mind a complete mess wracked with a combination of pain and pleasure.

The tightness of her ass increased, seemingly begging to milk you dry. Your thrusting continues even as her ass constricts until you could take no more. Rosé gasps out loud, almost in relief, feeling a new flood of hot cum unloading deep into her ass with every thrust. 

Completely spent, you collapse onto the bed. Your faces now merely inches apart, her beauty actually takes you by surprise as she lays there with lidded eyes and heaving chest trying to catch her breath–her moaning continuing even after you pulled out.

While you were too busy admiring her, the realization of what just transpired has come rushing back to her. The feeling of your cum leaking out of her for the countless time takes over her. She catches you staring and looks at you with her legendary bombastic side eye.

"I really fucking hate you," she says in a low exhausted voice.

You couldn't help but laugh, her cold callous words simply feeding into your ego.

"And yet you just begged me to fuck you in the ass. It's not my fault how much you need this dick." 

Rosé yelps when you give her ass one final slap.

"What, no smartass comeback? You're usually so feisty. It's what I love the most about you."

She lays there feeling dirty and ashamed, wondering how she ended up letting you fuck her yet again. But she also knew you were right, she was addicted and would come crawling back for more

A/N: Hi

#blackpink rose smut #blackpink rosé smut #male reader

[samwinchesterism]

in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down  

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I’ve seen a few metas now that describe Crowley as self-loathing and…that’s not quite it to me.

Crowley for sure has Issues. He has a lot of anger and doesn’t always deal with it in constructive ways. He is hypervigilant as all fuck, and the fact that he is almost always correct about the amount of danger he and Aziraphale are in at a given moment just reinforces that hypervigilance feedback loop.

He has the hair-trigger flight response of someone who has spent millennia dodging oppressive forces that are more powerful than him, and this makes him default to RUN even when on some level he knows that is not the right response to a situation. He’s very aware that there are a lot of people out there who can hurt him, and there is no one coming to protect him. The only option is to try to avoid the blow.

And he is absolutely terrified of rejection, for very understandable reasons. This also encourages him to have one foot out the door of a situation, to pretend he doesn’t care, because if you leave first and actually never cared at all then you can’t be hurt. He is painfully aware that good things can be taken away from him without warning, that love that looks absolute can turn out to be conditional, because that already happened to him.

But. As much as I love a self-loathing blorbo, I don’t think Crowley hates himself.

Sure he talks a good game about how he’s not nice. But I don’t think, for example, that he thinks he is unworthy of Aziraphale’s love, that he is not good enough for Aziraphale because he is a demon or for any other reason. Because as far as Crowley is concerned, angels and demons are the same! All that good and evil stuff is just names for sides. I think he is afraid, because he’s still not sure, after all this time, if Aziraphale feels the same way he does, and broaching that topic is an enormous risk compared to just staying in the ambiguously-defined status quo they have now. (And then he works up the courage to do it anyway, and seems to have his worst fears confirmed.)

FWIW, I don’t think Aziraphale thinks that Crowley is not good enough for him either. Not at all. But I think Crowley might think that Aziraphale thinks that after the end of s2. And that really stings, because as much as they both gave lip service to the idea of “I’m good, you’re evil,” I think Crowley always assumed that Aziraphale saw through that when it came to him as a person, that it was just something Azirphale said and not something he really believed about Crowley, and now he’s not so sure.

I also think Crowley believes he did not deserve his fall (hot take: none of them did) not because he is extra-special Good, but because that’s a fucked-up thing for someone who said they loved you to do. While he is clearly still dealing with the trauma of it, I think he knows by now: I shouldn’t have been hurt like that. I didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t my fault.

And so the horror of Aziraphale accepting the offer of going back to Heaven is partially I thought we both understood how this system works; I thought we were on our own side together and partially I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt you and at least a little bit I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt me. Do you think they were right?

(And Aziraphale doesn’t! He doesn’t think that! He thinks they were wrong, but he thinks they were wrong about Crowley, that it was an individual mistake and not a feature of a system that squashes questioning and nonconformity of any kind.)

I wrote a whole meta about “I won’t be forgiven, not ever” and “unforgivable, that’s what I am” in 2019 that I won’t rehash here, but tl;dr, I don’t think Crowley is saying that as a statement of his self-worth. I think he is saying, Heaven would never let me back in, and if they did, I wouldn’t go. Because I don’t want or trust the “acceptance” of people who don’t value me as I am.

And it’s part of the cruel dramatic irony of the Final Fifteen that one of the things that breaks them apart is that Crowley values himself enough not to go back to Heaven. Crowley, who we’ve seen will do almost anything for Aziraphale, says, No. I am not putting myself back in that abusive situation. You shouldn’t either; I really wish you wouldn’t; but if you do, I am still not going back there. Not even for you.

#good omens #good omens s2 #crowley #heaven #to be clear! crowley does not have a solution to their problems! #but he’s not wrong to hold on to that boundary and i’m proud of him #my good omens meta

[bigfatbimbo]

THE TROPHY WIFE VOX ONE PLEASE 🙏

I get misty just holding your hand —

Vox x reader,, 1.4k words

a/n — the prompt was this, but if you want to educate yourself on this little au of mine, here and here!

warnings — Vox being a whiny bitch about his situation, mainly just fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationship

summary — After the fall of the Vees, Vox has resorts to being what can only be described as your trophy wife, who gets paraded around at one of your work parties.

“Oh fuck no, I’m not going to that party,” Vox practically cackled, hands coming to his stomach as he laughed.

You rolled your eyes from across the room and walked over to him with a small smile, “Vox, it really won’t be that bad—”

Your comment went unnoticed, “I mean, bringing your ex-overlord boyfriend who’s famous for exploiting workers to a work party.” 

His laughter died down into small breathy chuckles as he continued folding the laundry, “Yeah, babe, I’m sure your coworkers would love me.” 

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he’d denied the idea so heavily. It was true, he was desperately ashamed of his current situation, and it wasn’t like he’d seen much of the public lately. 

Over the course of a few months, ever since the fall of the Vees, Vox had made the terrible discovery that hell never really needed him. Sure, electricity was a hassle for a few days, but it wasn’t like all of the other rings of hell relied on the Vees for anything. It didn’t take long at all for the citizens of the Pride Ring to continue they’re life, using the same electricity, socials, and porn as all the other rings, without any help from the Vees, or more specifically, Vox.

And yes, this had brought a fair amount of shame to Vox, whose only usefulness depended on how well he could do your dishes. The idea of facing the public eye, who most likely wanted him dead and buried, only appearing as your little housewife was positively unthinkable.

Until tonight, of course. You sat down on the couch next to him, and picked up a shirt to begin folding it, assisting him in the process.

“I’m not saying you have to go,” you begin, putting the shirt on a pile of folded clothes and picking up a pair of pants. Vox scoffs at your comment, but you continue, “But I do want you there. Vox, I need you there.”

The last comment might not have been technically true, but just as you hoped, it did bring a silence to the room. Vox’s hands had stopped working on the laundry, and yours followed soon. 

“Fine, i’ll go,” He finally sighed, “But if they don’t have the wine I like, i’m fucking leaving.”

And so he went. 

If Vox was being honest, he did miss getting all dressed up. He couldn’t even tell you how long it’s been since he put one of his precious bow ties on. As for his suit jacket, he decided to ditch it. Although he liked the look of it, it felt far too ‘evil overlord-y,’ and in the light of being totally powerless, he’d rather not provoke anyone with bad memories of his rain or terror.

Oh well, plain button up and sweater vest it is. The party was more of a casual-formal vibe. And besides, strangely, it felt in bad taste to take too much of the attention away from you.

Wow, Vox thought, that’s gotta be an original thought from me. For the first time in his life, and death, he didn’t feel his usual deep craving for attention. Yes, because he didn’t want to get assaulted by an angry ex-worker of his, but in a sense, he’d grown used to the normalcy of life around the house. You were the breadwinner, and his job was to simply be on your arm. He sighed, what a dull thought. 

“You ready, Vox?” You questioned as you stood outside of the studio apartment the party was being held at. In all honesty, you weren’t exactly excited either. 

Your ideal Friday night was not going to your prissy bosses house, and drinking shitty whine while you see the unfortunate drunken side of many of your coworkers. All the more reason you were glad Vox was here.

“Of course, can you not see how happy I am to be here?” He spoke tightly and through gritted teeth, a sweat working up on his upper neck while his screen brightness dulled. 

You didn’t say anything back, you just slipped your hand into his as you opened the door to the apartment. The inside was as expected, needlessly classy, decorated with chic and pointy furniture, and irritating smooth jazz playing in the background. You roll your eyes at the surroundings, god, upperclass sinners always love to pretend they aren’t in hell.

Vox’s hand tightened around yours when people started noticing the two of you. He was extremely recognizable, I mean, not a lot of people have TV for a head. But it was undeniable the murmurs heard around the room when you walked further into the loft. 

You look over to Vox and frown slightly. His shoulders were tense, and his posture was uncharacteristically bad. In truth, you’d never seen him look quite so out of place. Jesus, even at rock bottom he usually never acted so self conscious. 

“I should have brought something,” He remarked to himself, “Food, or something. Fucksake, people always get more comfortable when eating. Damn, I’m rusty.”

“And have them suffer your terrible cooking,” you take the opportunity to lighten the mood, “Jesus, these people would crack your screen in half. Hell, I want too whenever I eat your food—“ 

A small laugh was earned from the clearly joking comment. Thank god, you think as his shoulders relax slightly, but his eyes still dart around suspiciously.

The party is all together pretty mundane. You were surprised at how close Vox stuck to your side. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had been out in public together since he was a famous CEO, but you’d definitely expected him to shmooze more.

There seemed to be an understanding that these were absolutely not his people. Although he didn’t recognize some of them, they recognized him. Lots of ex-voxtech workers had to get different jobs after the crash, which meant of course, some were bound to work in the same place as you. 

“Oh y/n, so glad you could make it,” a coworker of yours had approached you, mid-thought, “And you brought… uhm, who’s this you have with you?”

Vox raised his finger as if to speak, but you interrupted, feeling irritated by your acquaintance’s judging eyes, “You know who he is, my boyfriend, Vox.”

Your smile had grown into a showboating grin that Vox knew all too well. Your words were proud, and you placed your hand on his lower back while speaking. 

He was thankful for your charm, it not only made him feel more familiar with the social circumstance, but it gave him an entrance. 

“Yes, Vox, very nice to meet you,” he leaned down, extending his hand and smiling his, now rusty, customer service smile, feeling comforted by way your hand slinked around his waist. 

The demon looked weary, but the conversation continued relatively easily, as did all the conversations for the rest of the night. You oversold Vox whenever you could, he’s such a great chef, he keeps the apartment so well, you couldn’t imagine not having him to come home too at the end of the day. 

Vox happily played into it, each comment from you being met with a witty joke from him, or a charming flick of his wrist and then, “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” 

He felt good. In fact, for the first time in months, he felt didn’t feel an overt lack of control in life. What he was doing, he knew for a fact he was good at; smooth talking the crowd.

What did he even have to worry about in the first place? Classy parties were something he had immense knowledge about. And here, he felt great, being paraded around as your trophy and gawked at, like he really meant something. Dear god, has he missed that, meaning something.

A few months had passed since the beginning of his stay-at-home life, and not once had he’d entertained the idea of liking this form of existence. But now he had to admit, he always thought of himself as a gift to gods green earth, but truly being shown off as your prize, that did something to him. 

The purpose he felt he lacked at the beginning of the evening, and for months on end, had been filled. He was yours, and he was something to brag about.

Although many of the things you were saying, him being a great house keeper, weren’t true, they very well could be. 

As he engaged in conversation after conversation with your uselessly classy coworkers, he basked in your attention and indirect praise. 

Maybe, after all, he could get used to this.

a/n — Song lyric title is misty by lesley gore by the way because 50s housewife music !!

Anyways, I think I went to ham on this one gang. I don’t know how much I like it—

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x reader #vox x y/n #vox x reader fluff #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order.

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(Part three baby!!)

“It would be easier if we went together,” Damian offered, saving him from a half hour of wandering through the halls like a bumbling idiot.

Danny beamed, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” 

“Likewise, administration is pitifully incompetent when it comes to keeping students informed,” He replied promptly.

Harsh but true. He’s ninety percent sure the map they gave him was for a different school, and the braille on his schedule was just a menu for a local fast food chain. If he’d been fully blind, this would’ve fucked him over. Lawsuit levels of fucked over. The lady at the front desk was either making a messed up joke or having a very bad day.

“Yeah… Incompetent is one word I’d use to describe it” He muttered. At least the written words on his schedule were correct. 

“…” His seatmate stares at him, piercing green eyes studying the paper in his hands.

“Your map is outdated,”

“Hhm?”

“That map’s fifty years outdated,” Of course it was, Fenton’s luck strikes again.

“I figured something was wrong with it,” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“You don’t happen to have a spare map on you? This is the only one they gave me,” He chuckled awkwardly, ancients he must look like a moron. 

“You’re very calm for the situation you’ve been put in,” 

 “I’ve experienced worse than a faulty map, this is child’s play!” He reassured.

“I suppose you’re right, but a mistake like this shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” 

“Probably not, but at least you’re here so I’m not alone in my confusion,” He smiled, and Damian gave him a curt nod before glancing away. 

The two of them continued their walk to class in relative silence. Students passed them by in the hall, a shocked look on their faces as they stole a second glance at the two of them. He’s used to it, his face looks fucking awesome!

When the two of them reached their math class Danny quickly took his spot at the front, Damian taking the seat beside him. The teacher had a lanyard hanging from his neck and a small badge with what he could only guess was the teacher’s name scrawled out on the front. Letters in a font far too small for him to read as the teacher paced back and forth through the classroom. 

Other students continued to file into the classroom, but the teacher's gaze lingered on him. Insuring his necklace was still hidden beneath his collar, Danny had a mental sigh of relief. It was, there’s no proof he was breaking any rule of any kind, no reason for a teacher to burn a hole into his skull with their stare. 

“Okay!” Their teacher started voice almost shouting as he smacked a ruler onto his desk. It hurt him to admit how hard he flinched at the loud “Thwack!” it made as it hit his desk, only a few inches away from his face. 

“As you can see,” He gestured to Danny. “We have a transfer student joining us this year,”

“You are to be kind and respectful to him,” 

Oh, Danny hated this already. This teacher wanted him dead. No, this teacher just dug him a grave. Not even a high-quality grave either, it's unmarked and two feet deep. The coffin was just a trash can taped shut.

 It may seem dramatic, but a teacher instructing a roomful of teenagers to be “nice and respectful,” to anyone was just begging them to do the opposite, especially if you said it with the same attitude you’d take when addressing a room full of toddlers. 

His fate was sealed; he would be single this entire trip.

The worst thing about it was the dude stared down Damian as he said it! The death glare his new friend was giving the adult could curdle milk instantly. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked my ass to spite him,” Danny whispered.

It’d be a necessary evil he’d accept with open arms.

“If I wanted to pursue revenge, I’d target him directly, not you,” Damien replied with a burning determination in his eyes.

“Metal,” Danny nodded.

A worksheet was placed on his desk, the teacher approached from his blind side. 

Oh, he was certain, this teacher already didn’t like him. It’s like he’s cursed or something. He’ll never be a straight-A student! Danny glanced over to his glaring seatmate. At least he’d have a witness for this bullcrap.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #deadserious #dead serious #deadseriousship #I don't have cannon names for any classmates or teachers #So i'm basically winging it

[plutonianeris]

pick a pile: how you secretly intimidate others ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. ⛓️

♱☾pile one☽

“don’t call me baby! im not your baby!”

you intimidate others with your individuality. There’s something about you that’s very weird or kind of quirky. not in the “oh im not like other gwurls 🤪” cringey way. but rather you’re kind of blunt even when you don’t mean to be other people might think that what you say is too harsh or direct. This seems to be some thing that might throw off men as well but at the same time it’s also make some desire you. That free spirit can be seen as something that other people want in their life but it’s not always with the best intentions. It’s kind of like they want you to fulfill something for them. Kind of like to conquer you in a way. But it seems like that literally never happens because instead, you’re literally a tower moment for other people in their lives.

Just by being you, you unconsciously force other people to reflect on certain things in their life. you guys people specifically to reflect on their insecurities, and also their childhood. You could find that people, especially women project onto you. they could look at you and mumble under their breath or too each other like “what the fuck is their problem” or talk about how you think you “know it all”

it seems like people are just really intimidated by your knowledge and what you have to share with other people. you might have some Aquarius placements. Whether what you share with others is topics about religion or spirituality or “taboo” subjects, other people could be thrown off by your words, while at the same time secretly want to hear more.

this pile, gave off a lot of scorpio and/or aries and/ or libra & taurus energy and 8th house/ pluto aspects energy. when I asked about qualities people associate with you I got “ regeneration, suspicion, passion, beautiful, art, experimentation, intelligent, creativity, wisdom.” 🕯️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile two☽

“no, I’m killing boys.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you can rise from the ashes and transform completely after going through super traumatic shit. The way you seem to be able to recover from stuff that can be straight out of someone’s nightmare and manage to come out on top is inspiring but also it makes other people feel insecure. pile two, other people seem to think that you somehow just “get lucky” when something really good happens to you. People might think that you didn’t have to work that hard for it. They could secretly send you evil eye and think oh I wish that would’ve happened to me instead..

shit I’m not gonna lie I feel in awe and a little shook reading these cards describing your energy. you are literally an alchemist. You transform everything you touch and you transform after every experience with a lot of grace and harmony. lmfaoo the quote from “what? like its hard” from legally blonde popped up. The thing is that it actually is hard but you’ve been doing it for so long. There’s no other way for you to really function. You manage to continuously strengthen your spirituality over and over again.

and there’s a certain element of privacy that you also keep when it comes to your home life and the space you live in and also in regards to what you’re even thinking. It kind of leaves people in constant speculation of who you are what you actually do or where you even live. but this privacy seems necessary to you, sacred to you actually. Your personality, ego, and the way you view yourself are in a constant state of fluctuation. But never in a way that ends up being super detrimental to you. even when you “mess up” you learn something and get better.

you are someone that is very strong and I don’t wanna say that like in a corny “omg ur saiuuir strong u went through so much :(“ pity way. I literally mean just a very unique kind of perseverance within your spirit where time after time you just can’t be knocked down. And other people wonder about that, but they’re not even close to being able to dissect it & that intimidates them.

You could be someone that has a lot of 12th house or fourth house placements, as well as Jupiter, Sagittarius, or Pluto prominent in the chart. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “independent, knowledgeable, transformation, roots, subconscious, potential, hope” 🔐

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile three☽

“how do you feel about yourself now stupid motherfucker? you couldve had some pussy.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you run shit. You have a very straightforward and innovative, and out of the box solution for many of the obstacles you face in life. Similar to pile 2 there is resentment in response to the way you succeed. But when it comes to you it’s more because of the way you do things. people might think “oh it’s not fair that they did it that way and won..” but in reality, you have a unique power being able to bounce back really fast from shit. you don’t mind being someone brand new every single day or changing your habits or routines, or the way you connect with people were your resources very quickly.

In fact, you’re constantly flowing in these spaces of rebirth and attatchment and security. and that intimidate people because they wonder well how is it possible that you’re changing your character and your appearance and your own self all the time and YOU dont care if people label it as a fake or weird. Like I’m not gonna lie this piles giving off someone who has such a range of random aesthetics that ppl r like seeing u as someone who dresses up or is wearing a costume when in reality you just feel transformed by your experiences so frequently.

its giving “im not the person who i was yesterday” so don’t try it today energy. it intimidates people that you’re not ashamed of changing your mind and being like “ well actually I used to like that and now I don’t like it anymore, so can you please respect the boundaries I set up now.”

you TRUST yourself. and not only does that intimidate people but it also makes them MAD. chiron aka trauma, wounds, healing, pain etc popped up, so it doesn’t mean that all your life you had this confidence or ability to listen to yourself and your intuition. If anything you suffered a lot and had a period of time (especially in childhood) were you were taught to not listen to yourself or your intuition. where you were told that if you showed leadership and willpower, and if you used your anger and embraces your anger, that bad things would happen.

But then, finally, you did and you realized that you get so much more from life when you show people how to treat you from the start. And other people want to be able to do that. And you securely inspire them to do that but it’s also a mixture of envy as well thats included in those feelings toward you. oh well. protect your peace! you could be someone that has aries, first house, 8th house and 2nd house placements. 888 also popped up if that has any significance to you. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “secure, possessive, leader, warrior, loyal.”⚖️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

© plutonianeris 🕷

#pac #pick a deck #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #astro tarot #astrology #intuitive reading #pick a pile reading #pick an image reading #astrology readings #astro reading #plutonianeris #tarot reading

[strwberri-milk]

Just read one of your ao3 fics and immediately came here. Could you possibly do Kaeya's first reaction to reader squirting for the first time?

ooo nice!! i didnt konw if people would really see my tumblr from my ao3 so im glad to hear that <33 also i. literally just accidentally posted this so people who sent asks before this/a few days ago YES i have your asks i just forgot to save this as a draft im sorry ;-;

One thing about Kaeya is he is incredibly diligent in whatever he does. He does everything to 100%, even if it doesn't seem like it. What his priorities are is an entirely different matter.

This is doubly so whenever it comes to you. He adores you with every fiber of his being, loving to be around you and spend time with you and learn what makes you laugh and smile. Making you happy is the only thing he thinks he's okay with doing for the rest of his life.

When you first began to spend nights at his place he liked to try and rile you up, see what kinds of things get you going and how to make you a flustered mess. It was a fun past time of his and he really quite enjoyed it.

Once you started having sex with him you realised fully the true extent of his devotion to you. He used his body to make you melt under his hold, desperate for more and more of him. It didn't matter how much you pushed against him, as long as you didn't tell him no, he had no issues working over the edge over and over again.

His favourite was to see how much overstimulation you could take after a bout of edging before the only thing you could say was his name, body shaking as sweat ran down your skin that he couldn't help but kiss. The way your hands trembled in his as he held you could make him rock hard in an instant, gently nosing against you with the light ask of "again?" in that soft husky voice you could never resist.

All of his experimentation paid off one night in a big way, and the only way you could describe his reaction was excited. You knew in you'd never rest again after this joint discovery, but the way he pulled you into his chest made you not mind too much.

"Fuck, you're doing so good," Kaeya pants into your ear, ramming into your used hole over and over.

Your nails are scratching against his chest, pressed up against him in a way that would be uncomfortable were it not for him stealing any coherent thought you could have with the way he's fucking you. It's endless, almost maddening but you can't help the way your body reacts. His hands hold your hips still, forcing you to take whatever it is he wants to give you as your knees weakly rest against his waist.

"Mmn, Kaeya -" you keen, feeling another orgasm beginning to crest.

He was fighting for this one, feeling you on the precipice for a while now but for some reason, he wasn't yet able to push you over the edge. Now that it was coming again, he had to just have it. Your walls were clenching so tightly over him and you were biting your lip again, trying to hide your moans from him but he would just have to ignore it for now.

Kaeya is relentless, sitting up and pushing your thigh towards your chest so he can mount you better, watching as your body bounces against the sheets hungrily. There's nothing he loves the sight of more and when your expression begins to shift he knows he has you.

He fucks you through the orgasm, chasing his own peak as he feels your arousal soak his pelvis. The sound you make and the feeling is so erotic it makes him cum on the spot, almost collapsing onto you as his hips continue grinding into you slowly.

"You fucking squirted," he huffs into your ear, almost offended you held out on him.

"Why are you mad at me?!" you retort, brain too fuzzy to think right as you smack his face in retaliation.

"Have you never done that before?" You shake your head and an evil grin spreads across his face as he flips you over, pulling your back into an arch as he manages to get his half-hard cock inside of you.

"Really? I'll see how many times I can make you do it then," he practically growls at you, brutal pace starting up again.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut