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#i hope it doesn't get too compressed
trustymikh · 1 month
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my take on Chip and Arrow in a modern setting :3 I kind of see them as workers at a national park of some sort
Crucnhy
responsible for search and rescue in the park, specializes on the mor mountainous region
always carries first aid and navigation supplies
Cream Wolf has gps tracker and a radio attached to his harness in case he finds someone in need while on his own
Caramel
stationed at a fire watch tower
likes to visit nearby campsite to see if the visitors need anything and are abiding by the rules
women want her, fish fear her
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.
I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.
Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.
Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.
The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.
Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.
I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.
So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.
If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.
Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.
Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.
And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.
And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.
I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.
Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.
Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.
I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.
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nishiyako · 9 months
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Intoxicated (NSFW)
Paring : Incel!Shigaraki x Drunk!Reader
Tags : Drunk sex, Blow Jobs, Hand jobs, Thigh Riding, Riding, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected sex, Creampie, slight voyeurisim (Dabi), Pervy Shiggy, Name calling (Whore & Angel), Gaming sesh, Pre-PLF coded shiggy (Idk, I just like him that way), Happy Ending <33
Summary : The pent-up sexual frustration was building up while drinking with your colleagues, so you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.
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Tomura was the type to stay in his room in the base, doing whatever incels liked to do.
When you'd pass his door, you'd hear the clacking of a keyboard accompanied by various sound effects from video games. Just like tonight, you passed by his room while you heard just that.
You knocked on his door before waiting afew seconds, you pried the door open to see his back turned from you and eyes fixated on his monitors like always.
"Hey boss, y'gonna join us?" You asked, holding the alcohol bottles for him to see. His head only turned enough to see you in the corner of his eye, red crimson eyes seeing the bottles only to look back to the screen.
He wasn't wearing any headphones, so he was obviously ignoring you as a 'no'. You rolled your eyes before heading out of his room, closing the door in front of you.
You sat with the rest of the league. "Where's sigaraki?" Spinner asked when he saw you."He doesn't wanna join, too busy with his game or somethin' " You sighed before sitting down.
It didn't matter to them that he didn't join, but that was to them. You were at least hoping to get close to him yourself.
You'd catch him talking to Spinner about their games or Twice and Toga bothering him while you watched their antics. He avoided conversation when it wasn't needed, but he avoided you constantly. Giving you a quick answer or two if needed, then storming off.
To you, he was mysterious and attractive in a questionable way.
But to him, you were like a drug, something to stay away from. More like an innocent angel, something he shouldn't ruin with his incel bullshit.
The countless times he'd have to run back to his room with his tail in-between his legs and a painfuly hard cock all because you wore shorts that day.
You were adorable and hot. It was so unfair having someone like you on the team right there yet so out of his grasp.
He wouldn't call you a "crush" just a fuckable inconvenience.
So like that the night continued, most of them talking to eachother drunkenly telling their stories with the enthusiasm of a child, yet you we're still getting tired of them, no wonder Shigaraki always hid in that room of his.
You were drunk, the noise of your other drunk colleagues made it worse.
The worst thing was that you were horny. You hoped tonight would fainally be used to get rid of all your pent-up frustrations from the busy month, but once you got the invitation to drink, you couldn't say no.
You considered Dabi. His scars were hot, but he was too much for you. Toga? She's cute, but there's no way you could handle her. Spinner was on another dimension at this point, and Compress already called it a night and retreated to his room.
So you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.
You stood in front of the door, not hearing the clacking keys anymore but some streamer playing in the background. You didn't know which, and you didn't care.
You knocked a few times, waiting a few seconds and entering.
He noticed you enter, of course he didn't pay any mind to you, eyes still on the screen.
You stumbled to him, placing the alcohol bottle on his table, "I told you I'm not drinking." He stated, the rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it was so addictive. turning his squeaky gamer chair to face you.
You didn't even bother to give him a response, getting on your knees with your face in between his legs, already working on the tie on his sweatpants.
"What are you!-" You hushed him, pulling down his boxers and licking the limp shaft until it got hard. you didn't know what excited you more, the fact it doubled its size, or you couldn't even close your fist around it.
You swirled your tounge in circles around the red swollen tip, giving it the occasional kiss to tease.
The door was still slightly pryed open, open enough if someone walked past in front of the door they could see you seducing the boss so drunk on Hennessy you couldn't even think.
The streamer still talking away to their chat, not knowing one of their viewers were about to get sucked off during the stream.
"Hey whore! Cut it out, you're drunk." He called your attention hoping to snap some sense into you, you were unknowingly about to give Tomura his first blowjob.
"So?" You said in a loving tone, a small giggle slipping through your lips as you lowered your head.
"It's Tomura." He said, reminding you like you mistook him for someone else, "I know." You looked up at him, your hooded eyes staring into his, admiring every feature.
The beauty mark near his lips, his deep red eyes, and the fluffy hair almost curtained over his eyes. You never really realized how cute he was out of his uniform.
Tomura swolled anxiously. If this was his fate, then so be it.
Your mouth engulfed him, tounge licking every inch of skin and sensitive gland on his cock, it would occasionally twitch on your moving sloppy tounge.
His left hand clicked the space bar, pausing whatever he was watching as his attention was now greedly stolen by you.
His right hand was placed on your head, mindful of his pinky. Petting your soft hair as your head bobbed up and down.
His raspy moans and groans polluting the room as a bit of the noise slipped through the open door, the praises of "fuck yeah." Slipping through his wounded lips, and his slightly fucked out expression lit up by the monitor.
He watched your cheeks hollow and plump lips move on his girth, tounge teasing every vein you knew was sensitive and your hand stroking whatever you couldn't handle, he was scared he was gonna wake up if he moved too much.
His abdomen tensed from the pleasure, eyes closing shut yet desperate to watch you, struggling to catch his breath in between his moans.
His mind went black, only hoping that he did join you guys for drinks. Maybe he'd find out why out of all the annoyingly hot people on the team, you chose him.
You slipped him out of your mouth, wiping the spit off your chin as you got back on your feet.
His crimson eyes met yours, confused before you straddled him in his chair, sitting over him as you removed your pajama pants, making them puddle on the cold floor.
His mind was racing, miltipule thoughts suriging a storm in his mind but he saw the one thing that could possibly make it stop and not ruin the sight, he took the bottle off the table taking a few swigs before looking back at you.
You seated on his clothed thigh, frilly pink panties against the boring Grey sweatpants he'd sport every day.
Pink fabric already stained with your lust as you grinded against his clothed thigh for friction you only dreamed of.
His finger was under your chin, forcing you to look at him. With your pleading hooded eyes and quivering lips, not to mention the adorable flushed cheeks from the achohol.
All you wanted to do was rub your needy sex against the muscle of his thigh as your hands explored the body under his black hoodie.
His sadistic eyes looked down on you when he'd occasionally jolted his leg up to make your squirm and shiver.
You heard footsteps grow closer, walking more like drunkenly stumbling to the door.
Averting your eyes was a mistake, only to be told off with a demanding "mm-m, eyes on me." From Tomura.
Of course, you complied, even stroking him during it.
The contrast of feeling your soft hands around his length was so much better than his calloused hand he used.
Shuddering breaths inches away from your lips as your hips rocked back and forth, knowing the eyes on you, yet you couldn't see who they belonged to.
Compress is asleep, Spinner? No, he wouldn't stay that long, Toga? Probably would walk away just hearing the sounds. So it was Dabi, that creep.
Even though the embarrassment was painful, it still felt good to know someone's watching you have the privilege to grind on the boss so earnestly.
Stroking his cock as his hands were busy holding your face up so he could examine you and holding the shared alcohol bottle in his other hand.
Tomura let go of your chin, giving you the opportunity to look while he guided your legs to straddle him.
And your guess was correct, you and Dabi were looking at each other as he leaned against the doorframe, giving you a condescending grin as he watched you fall apart on the boss's deadly touch.
You looked back at shigaraki, he was well aware of the captive audience watching the both of you be he didn't care as usual, he didn't care who you'd fuck after this, aslong as he got to right now.
He guided your hips to lower onto him, slowly sinking down on him.
he held you by your hips supporting your movements, controlling your pace as you grinded with him inside, you moand into his ear only to get him harder, twitching against your gummy walls.
It didn't take long before he made you start bouncing, he looked at you so enfacueted, you looked so perfect to him, hair a mess and so intoxicated on his cock, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pleaded for his kisses.
Dabi watched the scene, feeling his cock strain against the fabric of his clothes, watching your adorable expressions while you fucked someone with that kind of power.
It was annoyingly hot.
He could watch all he wanted, but he knew once Tomura was done with you, you were forever off limits.
He closed the door infront of him, giving you both some privacy before leaving to his room, probably just gonna stroke himself to that mental image of you fucking him instead.
Tomura took his fainal drink, placing the empty bottle on his table. Sure, it tasted bad, but at least he was feeling even better now.
His hands fainally explored your body, tracing your curves and stomach before finding their place on your waist, thumbs rubbing against the skin over your ribcage.
Your foreheads pressed together, moaning against his lips as he watched how your warm body moved, tempered by the alcohol it only made everything better and a bit sloppy.
Your insides coating his cock in a white opaque liquid from all your pent up frustrations, all those nights you couldn't get off from the busy schedule.
Your legs tensed, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over again, so painfully good it had you seeing stars every time you rutted against him.
The sudden ego boost getting to his head watching you writhe on his cock, your hands pawing at his soft hair, giving the occasional tug.
Your back arched, his face buried in the crook of your neck, working on a few love bites and hickies to discover in the morning.
He was bigger than expected or you were just more pent up than you knew, regardless of who needed this more you knew this wouldn't be the last.
Your bounces became faster, more needy for the feeling of his tip hitting your gushing cervix, the smug smirk you saw on his face, and the ghostly touches on you skin.
Your movements were animalistic, yet something about his static nature claimed you, watching you get off drunkenly using him.
You were zealous on the pleasure, now pawing at his hoodie, tugging as a sign of your limits before he clicked his tongue stealing your attention.
"Just a bit longer, angel." His raspy voice saying sweet things, maybe it was the alcohol but that meant a lot to you.
He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked, coming into his room to suck and ride him, yet something about you was angelic.
Not to mention the look of bliss you had on your face at that name, 'angel, angel.' His voice ricochet around your head.
"I don't think I can, boss." You managed to slip through your moans, so adorable that you're still calling him that.
"It was an order." His voice low, almost like a growl. His lips met the skin of your jaw, and you tried your best to hold on, savoring the sensations.
Your shakey legs and breaths were so painfuly obvious to him that he had to watch you like this for even a bit longer.
He hasn't felt touch in a while, and now suddenly being flooded with such intimate contact made him berserk.
With one pull on your waist, he thrusted into you, releasing all his pent-up seed inside you, flooding and painting your gummy walls with his warm fluids.
The knot in your stomach shaped with his forceful actions, making you squirm on his lap and grip on his clothing while letting out the most erotic moan he's ever heard.
Far better than whatever porn he used to watch.
•••
You woke up with a pulsing headache, eyes opening to see the familiar room and Shigaraki on his computer set up that was right beside his bed.
He sat there peacefully, headphones in so you wouldn't wake up from the various video game sound effects he'd usually blast.
An empty Hennessy bottle on his desk and your pajama pants nicely folded at the feet of the bed, you sat up, gaining Tomuras attention.
He looked at you, acknowledging your presence for what felt for the first time.
He braced himself for the names you'd call him 'creep, pervert, peice of shit' he was ready for anything except when you stayed quiet, rubbing your eyes adjusting to the harsh light of the monitor.
You didn't care that you were half naked in his bed, just caring about where breakfast is.
"Hey, wanna get pizza?" You said casually, your voice still a bit groggy.
Tomura removed one side of his headphones, "seriously? That's all you're gonna ask." He said in his usual dead tone, his raspy voice with a croak as you guessed he woke up only a few minutes ago.
Unlike last night, he was playing a single player game so now he had the privilege to pause so he could actually listen to you.
His headphones dangled around his neck, turning his chair to face you.
He saw you already on your phone, looking through the pizza shops website for new deals.
"Are you ignoring me?" He asked, his voice turning gruff. He could ignore everyone if he wanted to, but he couldn't stand being ignored.
"No." You said clacking away at your phone screen. "I asked you a question, and you didn't answer properly. You're actually ignoring me." You teased.
"Now what do you want." You said placing the phone to your ear, "Anythings fine." He muttered as you spoke to the employee on the other side of the phone.
•••
You sat on the floor of his bedroom, eating slice after slice while he ate beside you having your first conversation together when he suddenly asked a question.
"Do you remember last night?" He asked before swallowing down the food he was eating, "Last night? A couple of things, why?" You asked back, hoping you didn't have anything important you had to do that night.
"Well, we fucked last night. Don't know if you remembered that." He said, a pink hue forming on his cheeks from the embarrassment of having to remind you.
"Yeah, I remember." You said grabbing another slice like it wasn't anything important.
He was honestly stunned how comfortable you were like this, sitting with him on the floor eating pizza while you only wore your panties and top. You were practically strangers last night.
"I'm the one who initiated it dumbass, of course I remember." You said,"Not everything, but I know it was good." You confessed.
It was like a weird dream, remembering fragments of the night every few minutes.
"So, why?" He asked, almost concerned in his sentence. "I was horny, You were cute. You connect the dots." You said with a giggle in your sentence.
"Right.." he said, he never had anyone call him that.
Minutes pass, hours, actually. Yet you willingly stayed in his room listening to him rant about his games, and he'd listen to you rant about your interests.
When night feel you decided to head out, you both spent the whole day talking you lost track of time, Shigaraki watched you walk away opening the door before he spoke.
"Hey," he called out, you looked behind you to see him pulling out a set of controllers for the both of you.
He mentioned he had a few controller friendly games on his PC a few hours ago.
"About those games.." he cut his sentence, trying to find the words until he noticed you shut the door and walked towards him.
He was never the best with words, but you understood him and the awkward language he spoke.
You sat in between his legs, grabbing one of the controllers from his hands.
He memorized every button on the controller already, so he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you seated as his chin rested above your head.
He'd talk to you later about getting a separate chair if this would be a usual occurrence, but right now, it was just you and him with the controllers and monitor.
Finally, replacing your noisy teammates with the peace you found in each other.
A/N : I'm alive!! Sorry I haven't posted, I got my first case of REALLY BAD writers block, but now I got back into my element!
(Solution to Writters block : Get zonked 🍃)
To all of those who sent asks, I SWEAR I DO ALL ASKS JUS GIVE ME SOME TIME <33 :sob:
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satoruoo · 6 months
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✦°. THE COUPLE + THE CASHIER - toji fushiguro
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"‘scuse me, miss?"
the cashier is no more than 15 minutes into her evening shift, and some customer who is almost guaranteed to ask the stupidest question is already bothering her. god, what evil did she do in a past life to deserve this? she quickly sucks in the exasperated sigh that threatens to escape her lips and steels herself for the worst as she turns around.
contrary to her previous beliefs, she's faced with the finest man she's ever seen in her life.
he's tall, towering at least a head above her with broad shoulders and a large frame. the compression shirt he's wearing and the dark sweats that hang low on his waist do no good to help slow her quickening heartbeat. his facial features are sharp, dark eyes and matching dark hair with a scar over his lips.
the only reason he's not intimidating her to the point of tears is the baby he's holding on his hip. a spitting image of him, the child has the same dark hair and eyes, gripping a small plush toy in his tiny fist.
"sorry t’bother," the man says, voice deep and gravelly, "was just wonderin’ where the baby aisle is."
she blinks, not even fully registering what he's saying. of course the big, beefy, incredibly sexy, and possible killer of a man is asking where the baby aisle is. the baby in question babbles loudly as the man adjusts his position on his hip. she swallows thickly, suddenly forgetting how to form coherent sentences.
"oh, uh, yeah, it's-" she doesn't get to finish as a voice as smooth as silk interrupts.
"love?"
his wife, she presumes by the way the man immediately twists his body to follow the voice, is a striking contrast to her husband with her far softer features and more approachable aura. she watches in silent awe as his body visibly relaxes, shoulders sagging in relief. the baby perks up too, his tiny hands making grabby motions toward the woman approaching them.
you're positively gorgeous, probably one of the most beautiful women the cashier ever laid eyes on. you're smiling as you ruffle the baby's hair, placing a quick kiss on his forehead lovingly eliciting a series of sweet giggles.
"toji, it took you less than five minutes to get lost." you scold lightly, biting back the smile that creeps up onto your lips and he places his free hand on the small of your back.
the cashier is struggling to believe her eyes. what a stunning couple the two of you made. she can see the resemblance between you and the baby now too. he may have his father's hair and eyes, but his nose and lips are all yours.
"sorry ma," the man, toji she thinks his name was, says, "megs wanted to look at the toys."
you raise an eyebrow. "megs can't even talk yet, babe."
toji chuckles, his lips tipping up into a lazy grin. he can't refute that one, it seems.
"sorry about him," you say, turning to the cashier as megumi tries to get a grip on your hair before toji pulls him away, "my husband can be on the stupider side. i hope he didn't bother you."
you may have said some harsh words, but the cashier can tell it's all in mirthful adoration when toji grins and presses a kiss to your temple.
"ah, no, it's fine." is all she manages to say through the large lump in her throat.
you smile at her, thanking her for her time as you take toji's hand, guiding him to the correct aisle.
the cashier stands motionless for a moment or two, still dazed from her experience with the crazy attractive man with his insanely attractive wife and their stupidly adorable baby. she doesn't think she'll ever complain about her job again.
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BONUS:
"toji, don't you think that cashier was adorable?" you ask as you browse through the brands of diapers on the shelf.
your husband scoffs, snorting through his nose while he pretends to be useful by looking through the baby wash.
"dunno, my eyes are only ever on you, doll. didn't get a good look." he says, "saw how she was eye-fuckin’ you, though."
you almost drop the pack in your hands at his crude comment.
"not in front of megumi." you remind, "and she was not eye-fucking me."
toji grins, coming up behind you to gently nip your neck, "either way, ‘s too bad for her, ‘cause you're already happily married."
you hum, looking fondly at megumi before tilting your head up to give toji a kiss.
"i suppose."
"hey! the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"
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unmoldeddirectory · 2 years
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虹猫蓝兔七侠传 | Typesetting experiments
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hikarry · 4 months
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Badass Aziraphale is fun. We love to see him with all the divine wrath and playing the protector he was meant to be, blinded by love and duty. Eyes everywhere and flaming sword at hand ready to smite or confront anyone that dares step his way
And that's the version we see the most in the fandom. Vengeful angel Aziraphale Guard of the Eastern Gate raining righteous fury over anyone who dares harm Crowley
It's beautiful. Poetic even. I love it
BUT
There is nothing in this whole fandom that's more powerful and gorgeous than protective Crowley
That man knows what is like to lose the love of his life. He has lived it, for as brief as it might have been. All the despair, the lost of hope, the absolute loneliness. He has been there and that's a place he refuses to go back to
All the fear turned into rage. Ready to burn down Heaven and flood Hell to protect his angel. He might not be the strongest and he might not be a match for more than one archangel at a time, but he would rather die than let anyone take Aziraphale away from him again
He would become so blindsided by terror he wouldn't stop to think about the consequences. His only target is Aziraphale and Aziraphale only and he would pull any stunt to make sure he was safe and, do you wanna know the best part? This is canon
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We have snippets of protective Crowley all throughout season 2 but this scene? Oh boy, this scene
Crowley doesn't trust Gabriel. He tolerates him because he promised Aziraphale he would help, but he is on high alert
As soon as Shax shows up and threatens Aziraphale, he redirects his fear turned rage towards his main target: Gabriel. Because this is his fault. Beelzebub is looking for HIM. They/Heaven indirectly threatened Aziraphale with being erased from the Book of Life because of HIM. If something happens to Aziraphale because of this stupid charade he got himself involved with because he promised to protect Gabriel, Crowley will hold no punches
He's already full to the brim with the stunt Gabriel pulled during Aziraphale's "trial". Oh no, Crowley hasn't forgotten his words and his righteous smile while he condemned the man he loves to death even though some years have gone by and he is still furious about it
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He is a wrong step away from exploding and destroying everything that presents itself as a threat to Aziraphale in the moment.
He is so scared of everything (Gabriel, Beelzebub, Shax, Heaven in general, the Book of Life) that he spends most of the season compressed like a spring ready to pounce at the minimal real show of danger
The only reason he leaves Aziraphale with the demons in the bookshop to go and try to figure out what the absolute fuck is going on is exactly because the demons can't enter said bookshop and he trusts everyone present not to be stupid enough to let them in (I'm sorry, Maggie. I still love you babes)
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The worst part is: all his fury, all his rage and fear are useless in the end because Aziraphale walks into the danger willingly and Crowley would face anyone that tried to hurt his angel, but the angel himself
Don't get me wrong, he sees the danger. Maybe a tad to late. After the demons are gone and so is Gabriel and Beelzebub, he let's his guard down and allows himself to truly relax, planning their little breakfast at the Ritz
Because he thinks it's over. He was completely blindsided by Metatron. He himself says "Go angel. No problem. Can't get weirder than whatever the fuck just happened". Oh my poor sweet summer child
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But he does see the danger eventually and goes on high alert again, but it's too late. He would never hurt Aziraphale, but he pulls all the weapons on his arsenal to try and stop him from going where he can't follow. Where he can't protect him
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And he fails. Like he always feared he would. Not only showing his hand to Aziraphale in a desperate attempt to protect him but also losing him in the process with nothing he can do about it but watch his angel go until the very last second
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cupid-styles · 7 months
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silk and rope 2
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ddlg harry and submissive/little y/n
in which feelings start to grow, y/n is impatient, and harry has to punish her (and someone says something they shouldn't).
word count: 6.7k
content warnings: daddy dom and little/sub y/n dynamics, smut!!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, doggy style, cream pie/a little bit of cum play, use of a collar, y/n in her little space). as stated in the first part, there may be some things pertaining to bdsm/daddy dom relationships that are wrong, but I did my best with researching!!! pls don't hate me if something isn't right!!!!!!
masterlist | read part one
talk to me
. . .
The next morning, Y/N wakes up to an empty bed. 
She's sweating, though, and she realizes it's because her body is covered in almost every fuzzy blanket in her apartment, including her comforter. With her eyes still shut, she stretches her legs out and rolls to the side, only for her face to be met with a piece of paper on the pillow next to hers. 
She hums in confusion as she wiggles her hands out of the burrito of blankets she's encased in, flipping open the note. 
Y/N,
Good morning, I hope you slept well. I had to leave early for work, but I checked your calendar downstairs and saw that you don't have to go in until 2, so I left you sleeping. (Just so you know, I slept on the couch — we hadn't spoken about boundaries after sex so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way.)
I assume your body is probably still sore from last night, so there's a heating pad on the coffee table and a few cold compresses in the freezer I made before leaving. I'm sorry I'm not here to take care of you but please text me when you're awake. I'd like to talk through everything we did and see how you felt about it all. 
Have a good day xx 
Daddy
Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth to avoid a grin from breaking out onto her face. She feels like a teenage girl, the way she clutches the handwritten note to her chest, butterflies readily swarming her stomach as she thinks back to the previous night. Memories start to flood back — she'd allowed herself to go under, further than she'd gone in a really long time, but Harry... he'd gone beyond her wildest dreams. 
She's lying if she says she hadn't at least contemplated what he's like in an intimate setting — he's beautiful, for Christ's sake, and Naomi mentioned once that they drunkenly made out once, describing it as "one of the best kisses I've ever had" — but it felt as though he'd been crafted just for her. He had worked her up and up, teasing her, pushing her limits but always making her feel safe and cared for. She'd never came that much with a dominant before either, which certainly wasn't a downside.
And when it was over... when she was still so floaty and moony-eyed over him, he tucked her into the safety of his body. He ran them a warm bath and washed her skin and hair, put new bedding on her mattress, and pulled sweatpants and a tee-shirt over her form. If she's honest, she hardly remembers much of the aftermath, but she does recall feeling completely and utterly peaceful. 
Y/N doesn't know if she's ever felt that way in her entire life. There's a part of her — a rather big one, if she's honest — that wonders how Harry, of all people, the sweet guy in her friend group that's always too busy working to hang out, managed to get her there.
She shakes her head in an effort to rid herself of the thoughts, not wanting to over-think everything so early in the morning. She'd had such a good time last night and she hopes it had been the same for him, so she's eager to leave it at that.
As requested, though, she grabs her phone from her nightstand (she doesn't remember plugging it in last night, but she assumes Harry did) and pulls up their conversation, firing off a quick text to let him know she's awake. It's not even two minutes before she's receiving an incoming call from him. 
"Hello?" Y/N answers, her voice slightly scratchy from using it for the first time that morning. 
"Hey," Harry greets. She knows he's at work, but it sounds like he's outside somewhere, faint sounds of cars going by in the background. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Where are you?"
"Work," he replies easily, then pauses. "Well, I came downstairs to call you. Didn't want everyone to hear my conversation with you."
"Oh. Isn't it cold out?" Y/N hasn't checked the weather yet but there's already a frosty chill in the air of her apartment, and she's sure when her feet touch the floors, her body will immediately recoil. 
"A little. I'm wearing a sweater, I'm fine. Are you feeling alright?"
She hums as she quickly takes inventory of her body, stretching her limbs out, though her movements are softened by the blankets she's under. 
"I'm a little sore, but otherwise good. Someone put like, 20 blankets on top of me so it's a bit hard to tell."
Harry snorts at that, "Yeah, babe, your apartment is fuckin' freezing at night. I think there's something wrong with your thermostat."
"Mhmm. It's been broken for months, I've been bugging the landlord to do something about it."
"I'll take care of it. There's no way I'm letting you go into winter like that."
Her body warms at his assertive tone, her fingers finding a loose thread on her tee-shirt to play with. 
"So, we don't have to talk about this all right now — I know you just got up and probably need some time to digest, but I just want to make sure everything we did last night was alright." Harry says, the sound of a car whizzing by serving as a punctuation to his sentence. 
"It was great," Y/N replies, perhaps far too quickly for her own good, "Really. You were, um... really good."
"Yeah?" he chuckles and it makes her cheeks flush even more. "You were really good, too. I had a nice time with you."
"Do you... would you wanna continue this?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She hasn't really entertained a version of this where Harry doesn't want to be her dominant, but she supposes that she could do with one night if he didn't have an interest in continuing.
"Of course," he murmurs easily, his voice noticeably dropping a lower tone, "Do you?"
"Yes. Yeah. Absolutely."
"Lucky me."
She nearly chokes on her own spit on that, but just manages to keep it together, hoping he didn't hear her visceral reaction over the phone. 
"You go in to work this afternoon, right?" Harry asks, moving on way too quickly that it makes Y/N's head spin just a bit.
"Yeah, I'm 2 to 8 today."
"Okay. I packed you a lunch this morning before I left, it's in the fridge. Do you want me to pick you up again or are you fine getting home on your own?"
Her heart almost bursts at him making her lunch, though she forces herself to focus on his question, contemplating it. She's usually pretty exhausted at the end of a closing shift, even if most of her work doesn't consist of taking customer orders. She'll probably be too tired to do anything sexual, but she now knows that her relationship with Harry stretches beyond the bedroom. It's what she's always wanted, but now that she has it—well, what did she want?
"How about this," Harry interjects her hamster wheel of thinking, "You text me when you get home—I wanna know when you're back safe, anyway—and let me know if you want me to come over or if you wanna be alone, hm? Either one is perfectly fine for me."
Y/N breathes out a sigh of relief (one she didn't even know she was holding) and nods, even if he can't see it. 
"Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thank you."
"'Course, bunny. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Make those big decisions for you."
She swallows at the nickname, instantly transporting back to the previous night. His tone has a teasing lilt to it but it still warms her entire body. 
"Gonna be good for me today?" he continues and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, "No touching, remember? Those orgasms are daddy's."
"Mhm," she squeaks out. "No touching."
"Good girl," she swears she can hear his smirk through the phone, "I have to get back to work, but text or call if you need anything, 'kay?"
"Okay. I will."
"Bye, bunny."
The line goes dead, and Y/N immediately smushes her face into her pillow.
. . .
Y/N doesn't have a good day at work. 
She's basically floating in on pink fluffy clouds when she begins her shift, a dopey smile wiggling its way onto her lips every time she thinks of last night. There's a dull ache between her thighs and her wrists have slight marks from being tied up, but you'd never be able to identify them if you didn't know they're there. It's like her own dirty little secret, and her entire body heats up when she catches a glance at them when she's piping frosting on cakes or kneading dough.
Her rose-tinted glasses fade away within an hour, though, when she accidentally lets a few loaves of sourdough burn because she's taking care of customers in the front while her coworker is on a break. It's a waste of a few days work and ingredients, and the guilt and disappoint creeps up and gnaws at her. 
After that, she messes up on decorating a wedding cake — she's normally aces at making roses, but the buttercream she made splits, and she can't seem to get anything right — but the final straw comes in the form of a father coming in with his bratty kids who press their noses up against the glass displays. Y/N politely asks them to take a step back, that she's more than happy to give them samples of whatever they'd like, but the dad chews her out, calls her incompetent, and leaves Y/N with watery eyes.
Thankfully, she only has 30 minutes left of her shift after that, and she's able to hide in the back and work on peanut butter sandwich cookies by herself. After that, she bids a quiet goodbye to her coworkers, bundles herself up in her jacket, and allows the tears to free fall as she walks the short distance to her car. She just wants to go home, shower off the flour and frosting that she's sure has seeped into her pores, and go to sleep. And really, that's the plan, because Y/N has a bad habit of isolating herself when she's feeling down, until she parks outside of her apartment and glances down at her locked phone to see a message from Harry, received two minutes ago. 
I hope you had a great day at work. Let me know if you need anything. If not, can I come see you this weekend? xx 
And she's just so... not used to anyone checking up on her after work that she bursts into tears on the spot. Sitting in her idle car, clutching her phone to her ear as she listens to the dial tone, awaiting the sound of Harry's voice on the other side. 
"Hello?" 
He picks up after three rings and there's a twinge of surprise apparent in his voice, but it quickly melts to concern when he identifies Y/N's sniffles through the receiver. 
"What's wrong, baby?" He immediately coos, "Did something happen? Are you alright?"
"I had such a shitty day, Harry," she cries into the phone, haphazardly wiping salty tears from her cheeks. 
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. What do you need? Do you just need to vent?"
She sniffs and knuckles at her eye. "Would it be too much to ask you to come over?"
There's some shuffling in the background that Y/N can't make out, but Harry's voice resurfaces quickly. 
"Of course not. I'm bringing you leftovers for dinner, just sit tight until I get there. I won't be more than 10 minutes."
"Thank you," she peeps out, gazing down at her lap, "And... Harry, is it okay that I don't wanna do anything tonight?" 
The background noise stops, a period of quiet overtaking the line. She gnaws at the skin of her bottom lip anxiously until Harry responds not a moment later.
"That will never be a problem with me, Y/N."
Her heart rate slows instantly. 
. . .
There aren't many things that give Harry anxiety. 
If he had to list them out, it would look something like this: Getting stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, a messy home, when someone says "can I talk to you?", and, on the occasion, when he's had to fire people at work. 
Today, he discovers, Y/N calling him crying lands at the very top of that list. The second he heard her teary voice on the line, he threw himself out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats on. He didn't even know if she wanted him there and yet, he knew in that moment that he needed to be close to her, to fuss over and take care of her. 
He tells her he'll be there in 10 but it's really just shy of 7 since he speeds there, a to-go container of eggplant parmesan riding in the passengers seat. He doesn't even bother to text her or knock on the door; somehow, he knows she's left it unlocked for him, and when he finds her defeated, crumpled body slouched over on the couch, his heart breaks. 
"Oh, my sweet little cry baby," Harry murmurs as he takes large strides over to her, instantly wrapping her up in his arms. "Poor baby, had such a shit day at work."
She nods into the crook of his neck as the tears start up again. His face crumbles and he kisses her hair, stroking his palm over her shoulder blades. 
"There you go," he encourages, the sullen sobs from her chest beginning to slow, "That's a good girl. Just breathe. Daddy's got you."
When Y/N is finally done crying, she's embarrassed by the puddle she leaves on Harry's tee-shirt, but he doesn't say a thing. Instead, he scoops her up and fluffs a blanket around her form before pressing a kiss to her forehead. 
"Gonna go heat your dinner up, alright? Pick something good to watch on TV."
Wordlessly, she nods as he hands her the remote. She settles on Jeopardy, which of course makes Harry chuckle when he reappears with a warm plate of homemade food. 
"Who knew you were such an old lady?" He teases, setting it in her lap, "Be careful, okay? It's hot, don't want you to burn yourself."
They sit in silence on Y/N's couch, tuned into Jeopardy with Harry occasionally murmuring out wrong answers. It makes them both laugh, and when Y/N finishes her serving, she crawls into his lap with a full belly and an even fuller heart. 
Neither of them want to admit it in the moment, but they both know there's nowhere else they'd rather be. 
. . .
It's a few weeks more before Harry decides to have an official check-in with Y/N.
"This sounds like I'm receiving a professional review," she grumbles, sitting across one another in Harry's favorite coffee shop. They're both wearing cozy sweaters now that the weather is finally starting to chill, though Y/N still wraps her lips around the straw of an iced matcha. (Harry replied by asking if she was an ice witch.)
"Shush, don't be dramatic," he says, leaning forward and flipping his palm up. He motions for her to place her hand in his, so she does. "I just want to make sure we're both content and happy in this still. If there's anything more I could be doing, I want to know."
"You've gone beyond any of my expectations, you know that," Y/N replies easily as she crosses her legs. "No notes on my end."
"What about in bed?" He asks, lowering his voice to a quiet murmur. "Is there anything you're unhappy with? Anything you want to try?"
She shrugs, thinking back to the many scenes they've had since they began their relationship. She knew from the first night that she trusted Harry implicitly, but that trust only blossomed the deeper they went. She fell into her little space nearly every time they were intimate, even if it was just Harry licking into her at the end of a long day. And while there were soft, slow moments, the intense ones seemed to be more fulfilling for both of them — the evenings when she was gagged and tied up, when he edged her for hours, when she was down on her knees as he fucked her throat and refused to let her swallow his cum until she was drooling down her chin. 
She'll never admit this out loud, but she wonders if Harry was somehow handcrafted just for her.
She clears her throat, playfully rolling her eyes at the knowing smirk on Harry's face — one that says I know what you're thinking about, and she pinches the fleshy part of his hand in response. He chuckles and wrinkles his nose at her before taking a sip of his espresso (it came in a ridiculously small cup, and Y/N had to resist making fun of him of it). 
"I think we can move on to things that would require more trust," she says carefully, casting her eyes down at the table. Harry makes a faint tsk-ing noise with his mouth. 
"Eyes on me, bunny." he instructs softly, "Tell me what you want to try."
Y/N wiggles slightly in her seat, readjusting her position as her thighs clench at the use of his more dominating tone. 
"Um... a collar, maybe," she murmurs, pausing to take a sip of her matcha as Harry nods, "I would like if we experimented with anal."
"Have you done that before?" 
"Mhm. I like it a lot."
Harry straightens his posture and swallows harshly. She wonders if he decided to have this conversation in public as some sort of test for both of them. They're keeping their voices low enough so only they can hear one another, but Y/N knows it's turning both of them on.
"I have toys and such," she continues when he doesn't reply. He squeezes his eyes shut and she bites her bottom lip, leaning forward over the table. "A few plugs... I have one that's nearly too big, I always have to work it in."
"Enough," he mutters, giving her hand a warning squeeze. "We'll... we'll do that, yeah."
She lets out a giggle and he grumbles, releasing her hand and crossing his arms over his chest. 
"Is there anything else you want to do?"
He rolls his lips into his mouth and she can tell that he's mulling over something, though she doesn't know what. They've always been quite open with one another, so for him to be in a state of contemplation feels silly.
"You know you can tell me anything," Y/N murmurs, occupying her newly freed hand with the condensation leaking from her cup. "No judgement."
Harry nods, matching her posture as he places his elbows on the wood table of the booth. "This is an exclusive relationship, right? You're not sleeping with anyone else."
She nods her head. "Of course."
"Neither am I," he says, glancing up at her, "I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with forgoing condoms."
Y/N's eyebrows shoot up. She's never gone bare with anyone before, not even with people she slept with for long periods of time. It's a big ask — they're both aware of that, otherwise he wouldn't be bringing it up in this context. 
"Can I ask why?" she questions. The thought of feeling Harry without a barrier is... overwhelming at the very least, but in the best way possible. Her stomach flutters at the thought of it, actually, especially considering the trust she has in him. 
"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to or you feel uncomfortable. I just... I was thinking, and I decided that I would really like it. To be with you — inside you — in the closest way possible. Does that make sense?"
It does — it makes a lot of sense, and she's nodding her head in agreement automatically without even giving it much thought. She doesn't need to think about it, but now she's confirmed that her body works on autopilot when it comes to him, giving her away without giving her a chance to overthink it. 
"Yes," Y/N answers, affirmatively and with confidence, "I'm— I'm on birth control and I'm clean. I got tested after Todd ended things."
"Seems like that's the only thing he was good for," he says cheekily, and she gently kicks at his foot under the table, "I'm clean, too."
"Okay. Good."
"Very good."
"Do you... are you free for the rest of the day?" she asks, her eyes moving to the window they're sat next to. Rain is falling steadily, fat drops of water painting the glass. 
They both know what she's asking. It's a more polite way of saying, do you want to come over and have unprotected sex and maybe choke me and play with my bum, too?
Harry chuckles, leaning across to swipe his thumb over her cheek. She revels in his touch. 
"I have to run a few errands, but I can come over this afternoon if you're free. Does that sound okay?" 
"Mhm."
"Alright. Let's get you home, then."
. . .
After Harry drops Y/N at home, she falls into her little space.
It's not even on purpose — it's just the context of the conversation they had at the coffee shop. They'd only played once or twice this past week because she had an opening shifts at the bakery (a 3 a.m. wakeup call simply wasn't enough for her to sleep off her soreness from their most recent scene), so they'd resorted to quickies on Harry's lunch hour. On Monday and Wednesday, he sped over to Y/N's just as she was getting home from her own job, bounced her on his cock, gave her two or three orgasms, and came down her throat. While she peed, he ordered her lunch, then wrapped her up in her favorite blankets, tucked her in on the couch, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading back to work.
So, given all that, it kind of makes sense. She's craving the sweet, floaty feeling and with thoughts of Harry making her his (in every sense of the word), she slips. She doesn't tell Harry that it happens, instead just toddling up to her bedroom to change out of her clothes and into one of her favorite pale blue lingerie sets, complete with thigh high socks to keep her warm while she waits for him. 
But she's not in the right headspace.
And she doesn't know when Harry's coming back, because he didn't say.
She's panicky and teary eyed, missing her dominant, but more than that, she's horny. She's so turned on that she's pacing around the length of her apartment to rub her thighs together and create some type of friction, the arousal leaking from her core creating strings between her legs. And even in her little space, she knows she's not supposed to touch herself, but it's been days since Harry made her cum. 
In a sudden decision, she goes back upstairs and rifles through the box underneath her bed. It's filled with a few butt plugs, vibrators, and dildos. Despite the temptation, she avoids the clit stimulation toys and grabs her mid-sized butt plug. It's not for pleasure, she tells herself — it's because it's been ages since she's had someone fuck her back there and she needs proper stretching. If she puts it in now, by the time Harry gets back, she'll be open enough for his cock.
Y/N lays back against the fluffy pillows and blankets on her bed, propping herself up with her plug and a bottle of lube in hand. All of her plugs have pretty little jewels on the end, but this one in particular is her favorite — it has a pink heart on the end with a glass body, and she's so excited to show it off to Harry. 
She's done this process many times, both on her own and with a partner. When she reaches between her thighs, she's already drenched, unsurprisingly so, and she uses some of her leaking arousal to press a finger into the tight rim of muscles. She initially gasps, pleasure quickly fizzling up inside of her and making her feel fuzzy and warm. 
When she drizzles some lube on to her hole, she gets up to three fingers and by the time it's a comfortable fit, she's craving the plug. With a cautious amount covering the glass orb, she slowly pushes it in, a satisfied moan garbling deep from her chest. It feels so good, a fullness that she's never been able to achieve otherwise, floating her up and up onto cotton candy clouds. 
She resists the overwhelming urge to toy with her pussy while she lays there for however long. Every time she shifts her position, she feels the plug move ever so slightly, eliciting a harsh gasp from her throat, her eyes fluttering closed. She's so gone — so, so gone that she doesn't even notice Harry's text, nor does she realize that he's at her house, knocking on her door and, when she doesn't answer, uses the key he has for emergencies to let himself in. 
(After Y/N accidentally locked herself out one night at the end of a closing shift and the locksmith didn't come until the following morning, forcing her to stay over at his per his demand, the whole key exchange thing was kind of a given.)
She really, truly doesn't realize it until he walks into her bedroom with frazzled eyes, worried that's somethings wrong, only to be met with his sweet little submissive sprawled out on the bed, a plug wedged between her ass cheeks and her gleaming pussy on display. 
"Daddy!" She exclaims, rising to her knees, "When did you get here?"
Harry walks in and sits on the edge of the bed, taking her cheek into his large palm. 
"Just did, sweetheart. How are you?"
"Mm, really good," she giggles, wiggling her bottom, "I did something— nothing bad, I promise, I didn't touch myself." 
"No?" He murmurs, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "What'd you do, angel girl?"
"Can I show you?"
He already knows what she did — he saw it the second he stepped through the doorframe, his throat immediately going dry at the sight. But when he notices how blown out her pupils are, the wide eyes and her high-pitched voice, he realizes that she must've gone to her little space somewhere over the past few hours, and he feels like a shitty dominant. 
As soon as Harry nods, Y/N flips over and pushes her bum towards him, showcasing the pretty jewel. His hands find the thick of her ass, rubbing gently. 
"So pretty, baby doll," he murmurs, and he means it — she looks gorgeous, all stuffed up for him. He taps the plug gently and she whimpers, making him smile. "Did you do this for daddy?"
"Mhmm," she hums, pushing her tummy down to the bed. "Missed you so much, just wanted to get all ready for you."
"I missed you more." Harry says softly, wrapping a hand around her hip and tugging her back up so he can see her face. "Are you feeling little, honey?"
She nods. 
"Yeah? When did that happen?"
She thinks for a moment, trying to remember the hours she spent after he dropped her off at home. "I think a little after you left. I didn't know when you were coming back."
"You know daddy will always come back, right?" He asks, brushing some of her hairs out of her face. "And you can always call or text me if you get nervous."
"I don't wanna bother daddy."
"You're never a bother, baby. You're my princess, hm?" He punctuates his sentiment with a kiss to her nose, making a small smile appear on her lips. "You're my good girl and I'll do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face. Okay?"
Y/N peers up at him through her eyelashes. "Really?"
He smiles. "Of course."
She wiggles into his lap and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist. She hugs him tightly as he presses a series of light kisses to the crown of her head. 
"Got you a present today." He murmurs into her hair. She glances up at him with wide eyes. 
"What'd you get me?"
"Why don't I show you?"
Reluctantly, she moves off of his lap and lays back against the bed, squeezing her thighs at the slight movement of the plug inside her. He jogs downstairs and returns with a dark red box. 
"You mentioned wanting one earlier and I couldn't get the image out of my head," he admits, sitting back down next to her and opening the box. Inside, there's a black leather color attached to a silver hooped leash, the word daddy's embroidered in light pink across the material. "What do you think?"
"'S pretty," she mumbles, reaching out to run her fingers over the leather. "For me?"
"Yeah, baby, it's for you."
A grin breaks out across her face and she sits up, baring her neck to him. "Put it on me, please?"
He nods and complies, a pleasant feeling washing over him at her willingness to immediately wear it. He clips the leather around her neck, tugging gently on the chain. A whimper sounds from her lips and he smirks. 
"Filthy girl," he mutters, wrapping the chain around his knuckles. "Now, I know you said you didn't play with yourself, but that includes toys. You couldn't wait to put your pretty plug in until daddy came back?"
She swallows. "I... I guess I should've."
"You should have," Harry echoes with a nod. "I know you're desperate for me to own your cute little asshole, but you should've waited, bunny."
"I'm sorry, daddy."
He hums, tugging on the chain to bring her head down to the bed. She gasps at the sudden movement as he maneuvers her hips, raising them so her ass is in the air. He can feel himself thickening in his jeans — she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half except for those god forsaken thigh high socks, and they're going straight to his cock. His limits as a dominant have never been tested as hard as they are with Y/N; normally, he's able to control his powerful facade without a blink, but she, of course, makes it difficult. And she does it all without even trying. 
Harry holds in a sigh as he runs his hands over the expanse of her hips, giving them a small squeeze. She's so far under and desperate to be touched that something as minuscule as that has her slowly rocking back into his grasp, yearning for something to take away the persistent ache between her thighs.
"I'm gonna have to punish you," he mumbles, though it's apparent in his tone that he's forcing himself to do this. If he wasn't so hellbent on maintaining a proper dominant-submissive dynamic, he would already have his prick balls deep inside of her. "Nothing too bad since you didn't technically disobey, but you did touch yourself, and I'm sure you got a lot of pleasure from it."
His pants continue to tighten as the image flashes across his brain — his sweet girl spread out on the bed, knees to her chest, two fingers knuckle deep in her ass as she moans and mewls over the prospect of being filled up back there. It's enough to make him shudder, her small and pathetic whimper from below the only thing that takes him out of it.
"It was for you, daddy." she insists, and he notices that her posture has fallen slightly, her face now down in the tufts of her bedding with zipped up thighs to show off the curves of her ass. 
"Mm, but you didn't ask, bunny. You know better, don't you?"
A beat. Then, "Yes, daddy. I know better."
He hums and pinches at the crease of her thighs. She's expecting a spanking — if she has to guess, maybe 15 or 20 — but instead, Harry maneuvers back in front of her and tugs on the chain, lifting her head to look at him. His hand finds her chin and he squeezes gently, his eyes roaming over her warm and sweaty face.
Y/N is patiently waiting to be thrown over his knee and a firm slap to come down on her ass. But much to her surprise, he lets the chain go, stands up from the bed, and makes her watch as he undresses. Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't be as lusty as it currently is, but the tension is thick between them; Y/N feeling incredibly needy and Harry unable to stay away from her.
"Aren't you gonna punish me?" she asks as he pushes his jeans down, palming himself through his briefs. He nods curtly, avoiding her wide eyes.
"This is your punishment, pet," he murmurs, freeing his cock from the confides of the material, pumping once, "You're going to sit there, on your knees, and watch me jerk myself off. I'm not going to tie you up. You have to practice self control."
Her jaw drops open as he spits into his hand and begins to stroke himself. He's so hard that it hurts a little bit, so he can't imagine how desperate Y/N must be feeling. Her hands are twitching at her sides as she zeroes in on his prick, how thick and long and perfect it is, her stomach stirring as she watches him. 
"That's not nice," she mumbles, swallowing harshly, "Please... I-I've been waiting for you all day."
He can see her eyes beginning to well up and his heart cracks just a tad, but it's not enough to get him to stop. His balls are throbbing, the length of his cock wet with spit and pre-cum as he continues his strokes, top to bottom, over and over again.
"Ah, but you didn't, did you?" he says, dribbling down another bit of spit down to his cock, landing at the base. "You put a plug in that pretty ass. You stretched it out, didn't even let daddy get a taste before you did it."
"I'm s-sorry," Y/N blinks the free-flowing tears away, "Please daddy, I've wanted you all day, please—"
"Keep begging."
She's nervous that he'll cum before she even gets a chance to feel him, but little does she know he has no plan to. He knows how to edge himself, and he plans to do just that — he'd be a true masochist to allow himself to cum all over his fist without sinking inside either one of her holes.
"I need it so bad, please. It aches daddy, it hurts, I feel like I'm gonna explode, please—"
"And what do you want?" he presses, giving his balls a squeeze, "You can pick one hole for my cock to fuck and cum in. Which one is it?"
She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out with teary eyes. He wants to reach across the bed and squeeze her cheeks together, pressing kisses all over them, but he restrains. It's part of the punishment, the dominant part of brain reminds him.
"You have five seconds to decide or you get nothing."
"My pussy," Y/N blurts out, and it looks like she maybe even surprised herself with her answer. "Please. I want you to cum in there for the first time."
His cock twitches just at the words and he nods, taking her chain back into his hand. He shuffles back onto the bed and pulls her down, laying her down against the pillows. 
"Are you gonna take my cock like a good girl?" He asks, spreading her thighs open and hovering over her. 
"Yes, daddy," she answers obediently, licking over her plushy lips, "I— am I allowed to keep the plug in, daddy?"
"Is that what you'd like, baby? All filled up in both of your holes?" He peppers kisses over her chest and up to her neck, and she gasps lightly at he nips the skin. "Tell me now, yes or no."
"Yes," she breathes out, "I want that."
"My dirty girl."
He yanks at the chain again, sitting her up before flipping her onto her tummy. He props her hips up so her ass is high in the air, her face pressed down against the fluffy pillows. 
"You know what word to say if it's too much, right?" Harry asks as he pumps his cock, nearly twitching knowing he's so close to being inside of her. 
"Yes, daddy— p-please, put it in—"
He certainly doesn't need to be told twice. It's but a moment more before he's pressing his cock into her weepy hole, her wetness making a mess between her soft thighs. They both moan in unison when he enters without a barrier for the first time ever, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the pink jewel fitted between her cheeks. He pumps slowly at first with a hand pressed into her lower back, allowing her to get used to the deep angle, her whimpers from below egging him on. 
"What a good little girl," he mutters as he begins to speed up, sliding his hand down to the plug and pulling at it gently. She gasps and mewls, meeting his hips as she rocks back against him. "My little anal whore, yeah? Just love being filled up in both of your pretty holes."
"Yes, daddy!" She squeals beneath him. He already feels her clenching around his cock, her muscles tightening as he continues to pull the plug out in centimeter increments before slowly pushing it back in. 
"Tell me when you're gonna cum," he demands through harsh panting, "You know the rules." 
She winds her hands back around to each of her ass cheeks, spreading them. He groans out loudly and watches as his prick pumps in and out of her pussy, rings of her wet arousal covering his length. 
"Gonna cum, gonna— please!"
Y/N doesn't need anything else for stars to explode between her eyes, and she hardly notices the liquid gushing from her pussy as she comes. Harry withdraws and rubs at her clit, her moans music to his ears as she squirts all over the bed, her hole visibly pulsating. 
"Fucking nasty girl," he grunts when she stops, pushing his cock back inside. She gasps at how quickly he goes back to roughly fucking her, her eyes rolling back into her head at the overstimulation and fullness. 
"I want your cum," she pants out, "Fill me up daddy, please, I need it."
"I know, bunny, daddy's gonna give it to you," he replies through a tight jaw, burying his cock deep inside her pussy. His balls are throbbing at the tightness of her hole, especially with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She's drooling onto the bedsheets, a wet mess beneath him covered in squirt and sweat with a leather collar snapped around her neck — he's never seen anything more beautiful, and the vision itself has him at his end. 
"Fuck— I'm fuckin' coming, baby," he groans, pumping warm ropes deep into her pussy. She moans all the way through, immediately obsessed with the way it feels. She can feel his prick throbbing inside of her as he releases and it's the most delicious sensation. 
"That's my girl," Harry mutters as he slowly pulls his cock out, groaning to himself at the sight of her dripping pussy. "Push out for me, baby, let me see."
She does as she's told, using the little strength left in her muscles as she pushes out the thick cum he pumped into her. It's the first time either of them have done this, but it's apparent that it won't be the last. She whimpers at the sensation, wishing she could see what it looks like, but Harry's already using two fingers to push it back in. It's not enough to make her cum again — she thinks she's finally too sensitive for another orgasm to crawl up her body — but it still feels so good, knowing he wants to keep his load deep inside.
When he's finally done, he works slowly to remove the collar from her neck and lower her down to her stomach.
"You okay?" He asks softly. She hums against the fluff of her bed and he's not sure if it's a yes or a no. "I'm gonna take your plug out, okay? Can you tell me if that's alright?"
She tilts her head to the side and murmurs out an mhm, so he makes quick work to gently remove the butt plug from her hole. He bites his lip at the visual, placing the toy on her nightstand to wash later. 
"Bath time, angel girl," Harry murmurs, rubbing his palm up her back. "Daddy will clean you up."
She nods and he smiles gently, though he knows her brain is melted beyond belief. He tugs her body up and helps guide her to the bathroom on shaky legs, placing her on the toilet to do her regular post-sex pee. As usual, he looks away, but he knows this time will be a bit longer since the scene was messier. As she sits there, he fills the bathtub up with warm water and her favorite bubblebath.
When they lower into the water together, her muscles feel like jelly. He knows it's been a long day for her so he's not surprised at her quietness as he lathers body wash over her skin. Sometimes she slips out of her little space in the bath or when he's feeding her after a scene, but he expects her to maintain a near-silent demeanor from the intensity of the past few hours.
He helps her out and wraps her up in a fluffy towel, drying her skin off as she smiles softly at him. He gives her a granola bar to munch on as he changes the sheets, and when they're finally in bed together, exhausted from the day, he swears he hears her say the faintest words. 
Then, once more, they fall from her lips: "I love you."
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The Damned Pt. 5
Toji Zenin! x fem! reader
Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….
mentions of sexy times :p
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As day turned to night, all of your duties were attended to and now you felt your body beginning to relax these strange sensations Toji was giving you. The man was truly galling in every sense of the word, though you didn't want to think about it now. All you wanted to do now was shower and go to bed.
You enter the bathroom of your servant quarters, you try to turn the shower on but it doesn't work. You raised your eyebrow as you fiddled with the faucet again, but it just makes a janky noise and the water, comes out in unrhythmic spurts. You try and unjam the nozzle but your efforts were fruitless. You thought about not showering but then you'd feel all gross the next day. You thought about heading to the other servant quarters and use their shower but it was late and you didn't want to disturb anyone.
You only had one option left and that was Toji. You knew it would be awkward and weird but you had to grit your teeth and bare it. What kind of servant uses their master's shower? That's just...weird. Yet again, you shared a bed together…
Finding yourself at Toji's door with your towel, clothes and some toiletries- you knock on his door hesitantly, grimacing at the reaction you'll face.
The soft knock on Toji's door stopped him from his reading. He knew who it probably was, and in all honesty, he didn't want to deal with you at the moment. He didn't want to speak to you but here he was, taking a gamble with his own emotions and opening the door to find you standing there, so nervous in your stature.
"Yes?'
You were yanked out of your own head when you felt Toji's figure loom over, you swallowed as you blinked up at him. He was wearing that black compression shirt again...the one that clung to him like glue.
“Hey...I know this is weird and all...but my shower doesn't work and it probably won't be seen too until tomorrow night. Is it okay if I use yours this once?” You ask, grimacing a little.
Toji just glared at you, scowling a little at first but once you explained your situation, he didn't want to make this any worse than it was. “What about the other servant quaters?” He said lowly.
“Those are on the other side of the compound and I don't want to risk waking anyone up at this hour.” You said softly, hoping he would understand that this was a last case scenario.
As much as he wanted to ignore you right now, he decided to take the higher path and responded calmly and politely. “I uh...suppose I could let you. Just try and get it done quickly, I don't want to be disturbed any further, we clear?”
You sigh in relief, so damn thankful he wasn't making this any worse than it had to be. "Yes, of course... Thank you.” You give him a weak smile and Toji thought his knees would buckle if you did that again. He opened the door and let you in, closing it too.
You get into his bathroom and lock the door, just thankful that you could have a shower and feel clean for the next day ahead. Stripping naked, you turn the shower on, letting the water warm up in your palms as you get in. His shower was truly high class, but what else were you expecting? You wet your body and lather your hair with shampoo, letting the suds soak your hair as you rinse it off, taking in the soft apple scent. You eyed the body wash and shampoo that Toji had in his shower, intruiged, you picked it up to inspect it. It was expensive that's for sure, you hesistantly opened up his shampoo and it smelled...intoxicating. It was dark and heady, with hints of vanilla sweetness. For a moment you thought the shampoo was describing Toji directly. Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off.
Toji on the other hand couldn't focus on his book anymore since youinvaded him with your effervescent presence. He grunted to himself, hating the direction in which his thoughts were heading. Your body was naked in his shower, he wondered how the water glided from curve to curve, how your soft hands lathered your body in soap...Your breasts, your neck…inbetween your thighs. The mental image was truly captivating. Too bad he could never have it.
You finish dressing yourself in just a simple silk black nightdress, nothing too out of the ordinary. You open the door and the steam from the bathroom wafted in slightly, casting a glow to your silhouette as you exit the bathroom with a towel and other items in your hand. Toji's eyes were fixed on you entirely, part of him wanted to rub his bare eyeballs with his fists to make sure what he was seeing was in fact real. Your body was glistening under the dim light, your hair was still a little damp- it made Toji's breath instantly catch in his throat. What a fucking sight, it made him want to drool.
You stand there, smiling, staring at the ground then back at him, a light glow to you skin illuminating every facial feature. “Thank you for.. you know, the shower.” His gaze burned into you and you couldn't help the pink blush dusting on your cheeks.
Toji was looking at you and those words of yours caught him off gaurd, it was making him forget about the frustration he was harbouring before, now all he wanted to do was give in. To want to have an intimate moment with his own servant was so stupid...right?
Unable to fight his desire, he sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at his hands, not even looking at you anymore. “You look beautiful...Just wanted you to know that.” He stated coldly, that low voice of his reaching a new level of steely in just a matter of moments.
Your mouth fails you, the words simply wither and die out in your mouth. It felt like your heart sunk and your stomach did a backflip. You swallow thickly as it takes a few seconds to truly comprehend what he just said. He thought you were...beautiful? “I...uh... Thank you.” You gulp down your initial shock and breathlessly let out those words. “You really think that?”
Toji tilted his head and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. He slowly got up and stepped towards you, your heart hammering like an alarm as he stood in front of you. He was just so damn overwhelming, and what made everything even more frstrating was the fact you couldn't read him at all
You let out a sharp exhale when he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, that steely stone cold look still present on his face. “You should dry your hair properly, you'll get sick.” He clipped, and that just made you even more confused, it felt like your legs were about to collapse in on themselves. After a moment of silence as he watched those pretty pupils of yours dialete, he let his tongue slip. “You're so beautiful it's infuriating.” He muttered, playing with your hair even more, he especially enjoyed it when your breath hitched at his touch.
Your eyes shot open. “Are you saying that just to...flatter me?” You ask gently, glancing at the floor and then back up at his intense forest green eyes, darkening by the very second.
Toji frowned at that, seeming a bit irritated by your response. The way you acted with such disbelief at his obvious compliments made him made and even more turned on than before. That'a why he chose to respond back without being so nice anymore.
“No..I'm not. But you should be flattered. You should be happy.” He clipped before taking a breath. “It's impossible not to gawk at you...It's truly sickening. I want to fuck you...so badly. I want to see whats under this silk...”
He leans in and whispers hotly into your ear, his tone low and cold. You bit your lip at this influx of attention from him, his admissions taking their time to process through your brain. His hand rests on your hip, his fingers toying with the hem of your nightdress. God, you smell like plenty, like longing. Like a fresh apple orchard. “I want to know how you taste...if you taste as sweet as you sound, as you look.” He breathed, his voice becoming more and more husky as he felt your body twitch under his thumb.
“I want it...I want to feel you. I need you to let me.”
-
sorry for the lil break!
the smut i have cooked next chapter is simply delicious omg
Taglist (mwah!) @wo-ming-bai @xduskydollx @chilichopsticks @maskedpacific @kaizxnx @gojoslefttoenail @idreamitski @miraes-world @misscats-mha
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wynnyfryd · 3 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 47
part 1 | part 46 | ao3
cw: recreational drinking; fatal levels of fluffy idiocy
They make their way over to the kitchen, where Eddie snags them two cans of beer off the counter — warm, but unopened, which is really as much as you can hope for at a house party by this time of night.
Steve doesn't mind, anyway. Doesn't want Eddie's hands to be cold.
"You think you're good to step outside for a few minutes?" he asks, tugging at the hem of Eddie's leather jacket. The black hoodie he has layered underneath. They're not nearly thick enough for an extended stroll through the two-inch blanket of snow outside, but he's hoping it'll do for just a few minutes.
Eddie cracks his beer with a grin. "Why? You wanna have a snowball fight?"
"Something like that."
Eddie follows him out back, down the slope of the lawn toward the property's edge. Away from the rest of the party until theirs are the only footprints in the powdery sheet of fresh snow.
It's bright out tonight. Moonlight bounces so fully off the white canvas that Steve doesn't even need to use a flashlight, and Eddie's pale skin shines; dazzles in the moonglow, all shimmer and sparkle and so utterly alive, his limbs in constant motion to keep the cold out of his bones. He's taking these big exaggerated hop-steps, shaking the snow from his shoes with each lift, compressing the fluff beneath his feet with each heavy stomp down so it doesn't creep into the eyelets of his boots and wet his socks.
Steve's gonna thrift him a new jacket. A big, puffy one, he decides. New boots, too, next chance he gets; gonna wrap him up in a big knitted scarf and crocheted mittens and a hat with a silly little pompom on top. He'd look cute like that, all bundled up. Warm and safe.
"What are you smiling so big for?"
"No reason," Steve smiles wider with a shrug. He doesn't bother trying to explain himself, 'cause he never sounds half as eloquent out loud as he thinks he does in his head; shit gets all jumbled up on the way out of his mouth, but he just thinks, "You look cute."
Eddie stops short. "Excuse you!" he squawks, one foot still hovering in the air. Arms out wide to keep his balance on one leg. "I am not cute."
"Uh huh," Steve licks his lip. Your eyes are bigger than the moon and your cheeks get all pink when you're offended, but sure. You're not cute. "Whatever you say."
"That's right," Eddie insists. He sticks his nose up in the air with a little hmph! noise. "I'm mean and big and scary, and you like doing what I say."
"Also true," Steve agrees.
Eddie's face comes back down, expression softening into something sickeningly sweet; desperately so, almost unbearable to look at.
Steve's heart squeezes hard enough in his chest to bruise his lungs.
"Where are you taking us, anyway?"
"Not much further," Steve says. The party’s on a cul-de-sac that backs up to Maple, to Tommy’s old street — weird, considering how much newer and nicer this neighborhood is compared to Tommy's, but that's how all of Hawkins is. The zones stacked on top of each other, new money swooping in and taking over them like kudzu.
In between the neighborhoods there’s a stretch of untouched woods: old trees and tall grass, brambles and dark mulch and the remains of reedy stalks, and through the center of it all runs a massive, winding storm drain. Like the bones of a concrete snake, blanketed by moss and leaves and snow.
Steve and Tommy used to play here. Used to perch where the drain pipe let out to a shallow open groove; dangle their legs over the edge and pretend they were sitting on a lake dock instead of sweating their asses off in the woods beyond Tommy’s yard.
“This one year,” Steve says as he leads Eddie toward the spot, pausing to hold a branch back so it doesn't pop them in the face. “There was this, like- this crazy flood, and the water got so high that we could almost splash our feet in it from the top of the pipe.”
He points out the drain in question. It’s smaller than he remembers; comes up to maybe shoulder height, but it used to be huge. Used to be that he could stand up in the opening and spread his arms out wide and only just scrape the tips of his fingers against the gritty walls.
Now it looks like he’d tweak his back trying to hunch over to crawl in. Guess he was a lot smaller than he remembers then, too.
"Okay..." Eddie says as he takes wide steps toward it, eyeing the curve of snowy concrete. "I can't tell if this is secluded in a romantic way, or if this is just some creepy Stephen King shit."
Before Steve can so much as roll his eyes, Eddie gasps and spins on his heel; snow spraying under his feet, eyes impossibly wide. "Oh, my fucking god," he breathes.
It puts Steve on high alert. "What is it?" he asks as he steps in close; gets Eddie by the elbows, backs him up against the side of the pipe and uses himself as a shield so he can look over his shoulder and scan the undergrowth. Is there an animal out here? Something worse? Did Eddie see something? "What-?"
When he turns back around, Eddie's clamping his lips shut so tight it looks like it hurts. "I just realized..."
His nostrils flare as a snort escapes him.
Oh, goddammit. Steve thought it was something serious! He slouches in relief, letting his hands slip around Eddie's waist; underneath his jacket, to the dip at the small of his back. "Yes?" he sighs, prompting Eddie to spill whatever's got him trying so hard not to laugh.
"Your- your name is Stephen."
Uh. "Yeah?" What the hell...? "I mean, it's Steven with a V, but- yeah?"
Another giggle breaks free. "And- and you're The King."
"...Oh, my god."
He's so stupid. He is so fucking stupid. Eddie's snickering so hard it's making his nose wrinkle up, his whole face flushed a brilliant pink, and there are fireworks going off in the neighborhoods all around them; Steve can hear the countdowns starting, the muted chorus over the hills, people shouting 'ten! nine! eight!' and Eddie's so fucking tickled he can barely get his words out.
"Baby," he gasps as the crowds chant four! and three! "You're Stephen King."
Two!
Steve has to kiss him.
One!
Has to kiss him and never stop.
"You're an idiot, Eddie Munson," he smiles against laughing lips, and their tongues meet in the middle as they ring the new year in.
part 48
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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People Pleaser || b.ch
Summary: In which you can't say no.
Parings: Bull Hybrid! Bang Chan x reader
Warnings: DARK CONTENT, 18+, smut, manipulation, noncon, breeding kink, unprotected sex, manhandling, switch chan, mention of chan lactating, yandere chan, needy chan, chan rambles, pushover y/n, sub y/n, gender neutral y/n,
Minors please DNI
Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.
You always had a hard time saying no.
Whether it was saying no to your parents when they offered you more food or your classmate asking to copy your homework, you couldn't reject them. Just seeing their smiles drop, eyes get downcast, and attitude change was like having a knife twisted into your chest.
That's why it wasn't a surprise that you ended up in your current predicament, in the lap of shirtless Chan on your bed, facing him while massaging his swollen chest.
He was given to you by a coworker who bred bull hybrids you befriended. Chan was deemed 'defective' as a bull hybrid due to him occasionally lactating milk, which unfortunately never was enough to sell. During these episodes, Chan's chest would get swollen and red, which would require a lot of care. Since you lived alone, your coworker had deemed him a nusiance and you had a hard time saying no, she had 'gifted' you the bull hybrid.
Chan let out a groan.
"It's unbearable. Please, do something."
You try to leave to get a warm compress for his chest, hoping that would help to relieve to pain. However, as soon as you gave any indication leaving his lap, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back.
"No, please don't leave me. Your mouth, please. I need your mouth on me. It hurts so much."
You pause, giving him a confused look.
"Chan, I'm sorry but I don't think I should-"
"You said you'd take care of me. Right now, I need your mouth on me. It'll help to distract me from the pain, I promise." Chan urged, clearly becoming impatient.
Chan had never done anything to blur the boundaries of your relationship and he was always so kind towards you, helping you cook, clean, and even helping to pay the bills with a side-gig.
Hesistantly, you shift closer to him and attach your lips to his neck. Kissing and nibbling in the area while continuing to massage his chest to the best of your ability.
"Is this okay?" You ask, feeling unsure of yourself, lips brushing against his neck.
Chans breath hitches. "Yes. Please more. Move around, don't just focus on one area."
Complying with his request, you trace your lips lower, landing on the nape of his neck.
Chans resolve crumbles the minute you kiss his soft spot.
"I'm so so sorry."
You let out a squeak as you were pinned to your mattress.
"Chan...? What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Chan doesn't respond, not giving you much time to process as he rips off you bottoms, your underwear coming off too. He doesn't even remove his pants completely, only tugging it down to free his cock from its confines. He aligns himself to your hole, cock red and drooling.
You freeze as you feel his member against your enterance. "Chan-- wait-- I don't-- it's too big-- I can't-- please stop--" Your brain shortcircuits and you squirm, pushing against his chest. You don't want to hurt him.
"I'm so sorry."
He pushes in, rutting in short motions trying to ease himself into you unprepped.
You let out a sob and weakly hit his chest as you feel him sinking into you. You feel like you're being split in half and the burning sensation won't stop.
Chan shushes you and pins your wrists above your head. "It'll be okay soon. You're being so good to me, yeah? My good owner taking such good care of me."
Chan leans down and kisses away your tears tenderly, as if he wasn't harshly rutting into you at a punishing pace, not even giving you enough time to adjust. You lay there under Chan limp, unable to do anything other than take what he gives you.
"You feel so good, so nice and tight around me. It's like you were made for me. Fuck, I'm so lucky I got such a sweet owner like you. Someone else other than me might've snatched you up if it weren't for me"
Chan changes his angle, hitting a spot in you that instinctively makes you tighten up and your toes curl. He seems to take notice and abuses that spot.
"I've dreamed of this for such a long time. I want to start a family with you. Breed you. You'd make such a good parent with me. You won't need to rely on anyone but me."
Your cry harder as feel your last ounce of the control you had over your body slip away. Chan kisses you and your orgasm hits you. Chan doesn't give you time to rest as he continues his onslaught, putting his weight on your wrists and chasing his high.
"Fuck. Take my cum. Take it like the good owner you are."
You feel it as he stills in you. You can feel it as he throbs inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.
Chan lets out a sigh as he pulls out, cum oozing out of your puffy hole.
He gives you another kiss before flipping you over onto your stomach while pinning your legs down with his. You slump down, eyes fluttering closed, cheek pressed against the mattress. Exhaustion fills your body to the point of which you can't even speak or move. Dread fills you body as you feel his hard member against your hole.
"One round shouldn't be enough to get your pregnant right? Guess we'll have to go a few more times."
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singingcicadas · 2 months
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More thoughts on Cyclonus.
Nova's evaluation of him in this panel is brutally accurate. That last sentence. Ouch.
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On the surface level Cyclonus appears to be portrayed as this stiff proud warrior with an austere, diehard take on his own internal code of honour and patriotism, but the more I think about it his actual character is pretty much the opposite? He doesn't have any hardfast values or stances of his own aside from shallow romanticism for the preachings of others.
His whole life is comprised of hanging onto other people. First it's Nova and his group, despite Nova and Jhiaxius looking down on him and insulting him to his face and being very forthright about the actual purpose of their mission, which Cyclonus apparently had different ideals about. Theoretically. But he didn't say anything after Nova corrected him.
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Then it's Galvatron, after Galvatron backstabbed Nova. Even when Galvatron became increasingly unhinged and violent toward him and also started insulting him to his face, he still continued to follow Galvatron around because Galvatron's powerful, hope he stays on our side.
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Then after he broke off from Galvatron post-Chaos Theory he joined the Lost Light, an Autobot ship, despite not liking Autobots, because it had something that he wanted: the chance to start again.
His defense for murdering all those people in Kimia is literally "he made me do it." That's all he can come up with. He even knows it's a bad excuse.
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And he always corrects people when they assume he's a Decepticon. Here he directly says that he doesn't want to be a Decepticon. Why not, if he clearly admires their ideology?
One possible reason is maybe he doesn't like their ideology that much. Enough to romanticize it from a safe distance but not enough to commit to it himself (since doing that would force him to do actual introspection about his own role in what made the Decepticon ideology so appealing in the first place). Second reason's simpler: Decepticons have to wear inhibitor chips. No thanks. They're the losing side.
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Once on board the Lost Light he followed Rodimus' command fine despite Rodimus accusing him of murdering Red Alert without any proof. Then after he developed a relationship with Tailgate, he put Tailgate up on a pedestal and made Tailgate the center of his universe.
But then there's also this 🔽 after he thought Tailgate dumped him:
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I don't even know what he's trying to do there😂
His lack of true conviction is evident in the little things too: he thinks it's unethical for Rodimus to perform mnemosurgery on Tailgate while he's unconscious and unable to give consent but drops the subject after Rodimus distracted him with fireworks. He thinks that mutiliating an enemy's corpse is appalling but doesn't say anything when Rodimus said they were going to use Skip's corpse as a shuttle to get off Necroworld. It's Nautica who raised ethical objections, not him. He's supposed to be really religious but when the guiding hand did their big reveal at the end of Lost Light, he got nearly zero lines because of compressed screentime except to argue with Epistemus over sending Tailgate into danger.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that Cyclonus is essentially a go-with-the-flow sort of person. Nothing he holds is uncompromisable. Not his ideals, not his values, not his pride, not his faith. To an extent, not even his love for Tailgate, at least not completely, because he left when Tailgate told him to leave even when he suspected that Tailgate was lying about not loving him without making more of an effort to understand why. It all depends on the person he's hanging on to at the moment. And his choice of which leader to follow is ultimately based on self-serving reasons. This pattern is first broken when he turns on Galvatron, then fully subverted after he learns to love Tailgate as a sign of character growth.
He's not an intrinsically cruel or callous person. The way he learns to love Tailgate, befriend Whirl, and being kind and supportive to everyone when Rodimus left him in charge on the Necroworld are all attestments of his better nature. Water takes the shape of the container in which it's kept; surround him with people like Galvatron and Nova and he'll be their murder machine. Put him in the company of people who's mostly decent like the Lost Light crew and he'll grow into a compassionate person and a reliable friend.
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
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alright @mididoodles since you're so determined to absolutely annihilate my psyche every time you press post, here's wonderwall hockey player!satoru x skater!reader
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it couldn't be that bad to go a little later to the rink, right? right?
wrong, so very wrong.
on top of sleeping through your alarm, you couldn't find your skate guards after you carelessly tossed them on your desk the night prior. you ended up having to wrench them from your dog, nearly dropping your car keys in the trash in the process. by the time you were through the double doors and shivering against the frigid air, someone's already occupied your usual timeslot. sure, it was a free skate before doors officially opened, but years of going to the same rink established that you were the one on the ice at the asscrack of dawn. the ticket sellers knew it, the zamboni drivers knew it, even other skaters knew that you had first claim. everyone was aware of your seniority, it seemed, except for the lanky hockey player swinging pucks into a net on the far side of the ice. you lace up your skates and pray for him to leave, grimacing when he doesn't and hopping onto the rink anyway. if he hit you with a puck, the lawsuit would certainly pay for your next program's costume.
you tune him out the best you can and try to ignore the way his muscles stretch against his compression long sleeve, something much too light to be wearing for a typical hockey player. you don't skate close enough to see his face, but the corded muscle on his back was enough to have your face heating. his hair was nearly the same color as the ice, and he flipped it back every so often to get it out of his face. in another world where you weren't sharing the rink with him, you'd have found yourself with a little crush on him. the music in your earbuds isn't enough, however, to drown out the sound of the stick hitting the puck over and over and over again, not to mention the times when he misses the net and the puck ricochets off the walls of the rink. your jumps become messier than usual, as are your spins, and you can only accredit it to the other occupant of the rink. after barely a few minutes of trying to share and run through your drills without using half your space, you give up and make to leave. you'd just have to come back tomorrow and hope he wasn't there.
"hey, wait! i was just leaving," a vaguely familiar voice calls to your back. it's melodic and incredibly confident, borderline arrogant. "sorry i stole your spot; i have a game tonight and i wanted to get some extra practice goals in before class." the crunch of skates sprinting across the ice and power-sliding to a halt floats into your ears and you look at the perpetrator from the corner of your eye, turning fully to look at him when your brain clicks into place who he is. "oh, shit!"
"satoru?" he mirrors the surprise in your tone, throwing his head to the side with a lopsided smile as he states your name tenderly. "oh my god, what are you doing here?" your mouth breaks into a grin, grateful to be free from the scowl you were wearing a few minutes prior. your eyes flick down to his lips as his tongue runs absentmindedly over a sparkling canine.
"i had to come in a little earlier than i usually do; i didn't know that it's during the time you're here. it's really good to see you," he says warmly and you feel your face warm. "you went pro, yeah?" you nod, casually leaning a shoulder against the plexiglass walls of the rink. he crosses his toned arms across his chest and you fight the urge to stare. it's rude to ogle the arms of your childhood crush turned hot hockey player bad boy, you scold yourself. "how's that going?"
"mmm, i just got back from russia a few weeks ago. holiday intensives and such."
"wow, that's incredible. not like i'm surprised, though. you were always the best skater in our group."
"not true. i had to use you as a walker a few times when we were first starting out," you remind him and he laughs at the memory. "you made me hold your hand while i shimmied around the perimeter."
"and you asked if i was born with skates on my feet, i remember."
"how's suguru?"
"he's great. he's usually here with me but i couldn't drag him out of his house this early in the morning."
"in true suguru fashion, really," you joke. you feel like you're seven again, staring up at satoru's bright blue eyes absolutely lovestruck. he still makes you feel butterflies, even over a decade later. "you said you had a game later?"
"yeah, here at 6:00. you should come if you're free. watch me kick ass on the ice for old time's sake."
"i'll do my best. i'm meeting a new ballet teacher who's coaching us on musicality later this afternoon."
"i don't know what any of those words mean," he states plainly and you snort. "i never understood your world."
"and i never understood yours," you confess. "yet, here we are."
"here we are, indeed," he murmurs, looking at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before. it has your heart racing like an idiot. "well, i'll let you have your rink back. thanks for letting me borrow it." he carefully steps past you and heads for the benches, throwing back his snowy hair in a way that has you gripping the edge of the wall for stability. it takes all of your willpower to keep your voice from shaking.
"i'd say come use it anytime, but i am very protective of my timeslot." he sends you a smile over his shoulder. holy shit, were his shoulders always that broad? and was he always that tall? was he always this fucking hot?
"i'll respect it, though i might pop in to watch you skate. you're mesmerizing, you know?"
"careful, any more sweet words and i'll think you have a crush on me." the words slip from your mouth faster than you can stop them and he looks at you curiously, and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look amused at your jab. you'd learned to flirt from him, after all.
when he's slipped out of his skates and re-approached you, you're barely tall enough to look him in the eyes. "it was good to see you," he murmurs.
"feeling's mutual." he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo and you resist the urge to touch his undercut.
"i missed you." his three words have you feeling weak in the knees and slightly breathless. "a lot." despite the chill, you feel your palms start to sweat.
"i missed you too."
"keep your eyes on me tonight?" you roll your eyes at his familiar, comforting self-assurance.
"like i would look at anyone else." his eyes are sparkling and time seems to slow down to a honey-covered crawl. "what number should i be watching?" he cracks a mischievous smirk, shrugging and walking to the exit. you're speechless on the ice until he turns back a final time.
to tell you that his number is your birthday.
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I CALL WRITING THE GAME I'M GONNA WRITE THE GAME I WANNA WRITE THE GAME SOON I JUST FEEL SO AWKWARD WRITING WITHOUT ANY FIRST MEET/CONTEXT
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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galactiquest · 9 months
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We all know how touch starved Knives is but what if his s/o was also touch starved to the point of clinging on to him like a kola or a backpack. Just thought it may be funny that he's just acts like it's just the norm walking around with his s/o hanging off him.
Touch-starved Knives? I'm already there. I'm in the theater, Anon. I've got my popcorn and my large drink and I'm ready.
This idea was so cute to me I decided to write you some little imagines and a bite-sized ficlet, too! Hope you enjoy!
Millions Knives x Reader: Touchy
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Content Warnings: None again, just tooth-rotting fluff. Doesn't have any specific Knives incarnation in mind, since they're all ever-so untouched and in need of touching.
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First off, don't expect him to outright admit anything, ever. Knives is very much a "if I don't think about it, it'll go away" kind of guy. So there's no way he'll ever come up to you and be like hey, guess who didn't get enough skin-to-skin contact as a growing youth, this guyyyy. But do expect him to start getting clingy once he realizes he can.
It's like getting your first taste of your new favorite food. Now that you've had it, you can't get enough. Suddenly he's pressing his hand up to yours while standing next to you (not handholding, he tried this once and got overwhelmed and had to go bite something for a while). Or he's hovering behind you, resting his head on yours. Or he's laying next to you, tracing patterns across your arm/shoulder/back/whatever's available and allowed to be touched.
It's one thing if you're fine with touch. But if you're touch-starved like him, on the other hand? You're trying to sap that same affection from him. Since he's quick to overwhelm (as previously stated) it can be hard at times, but he slowly, surely, gets used to the sensations of pressure and touch that aren't violent or painful, just kind and pleasurable.
So, the touch becomes more constant, more level, more in-tune with each other. It starts feeling very natural. And that natural-ness feels great.
Hugs. So many hugs. That feeling of pressure between the two of you is relaxing and reassuring. (Also you totally get pressed into those "airbags" of his if you know what I mean.) He's so precise with his movements that he can hold you at the exact tightness that makes you feel the best. Who needs a weighted blanket when you have the Compression Boyfriend?
Koala backpacking? Absolutely. 100%. Crawl all over this man. Crawl up him like a vine. He's so used to it by now, he just lets it happen, even in the middle of work. Sometimes he'll pretend you're not there, just for the giggles. Completely straight-faced, but makes you laugh like mad.
If this is Stampede Knives we're specifically talking about (though I personally think the other Knives do this too) then you get to sit next to him, or even on his lap, while he's at the piano. No naughty business--just being close to each other while he plays the keys. Or maybe he'll ghost his hands over yours and show you how to play/follow your playing, if you already know how.
Alright, a little ficlet below the cut just for you.
"...My liege."
"What?"
Legato frowned at the sight before him. There was important business to be done, and here Master Knives was, fooling around. Letting you, the human he'd bonded with, crawl all over him like an insect.
"If nothing's amiss, Legato, then let's get to work." Knives huffed and picked up the paperwork from the table.
You shifted around slightly on his back, head resting on his shoulder, watching as he shuffled through the papers. This was one of your little games with him--you'd hang out on his back, literally, and he'd pretend you weren't there. He didn't care about the game, really, but it made you laugh. And if it made you laugh (one of his favorite sounds, if he had any), it was worth it.
"...Master Knives."
"Spit it out."
"Get that human off your back."
Knives growled. "That human has a name, you know. Besides, there's no human on my back."
You stifled a laugh as you looked at Legato, mouth twisting downwards in a frown.
"Yes, there is." Legato pointed. "They're right there!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Knives shook his head, then turned around to procure some more files from a shelf. As he turned, you looked back to Legato and stuck your tongue out at him.
"You arrogant little--"
"Legato," Knives grunted. "If you mean to insult me, I'll gladly slice you open."
Legato fumed, then finally spoke again. "Not at all, my liege."
"Good." Knives leaned over to rub his head against yours for just a moment, then returned towards Legato. "Then, let's get to work."
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End Notes: I have a soft spot for Knives. And a soft spot for Knives learning to love, well, love. This is also dedicated to my friend who lets me shout about Knives at them. You're the best, K!
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its4am-pal · 5 months
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So,, this is my first ever post! I'm usually just a lurker. But the other day I was listening to this playlist and I just kept imagining Cody and the other Clone Troopers singing this around a campfire. The album art for Big Iron is so iconic, so I got inspired to make this! This was my first time drawing a clone trooper so I hope it turned out okay! (idk how shadows work, nor do I understand feet,, and do they really just wear glorified crocs??) I did a quick re-read over the Aurebesh but my apologies if I made any typos. Annddd idk how image compression on here works so I hope it doesn't get too fried,, but I'm trying to post before I chicken out lol
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rstarsims3 · 6 months
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4t3 - The Tragic Clown - CAS stuff
Happy Halloween!!! It's my first time doing something specifically for simblreen (unofficially, as I wasn't sure I'll be able to finish it in time) so I hope you'll enjoy this set.
As this is a conversion, meshes and textures belong to EA/Maxis!!! Everything comes with custom thumbnails, normal maps (where possible) and available in .package and .sims3pack formats (compressed).
Available for both genders, from child to elders.
Programs used: S4Studio, Blender, Milkshape, Photoshop, TSRW.
The Tragic Clown Set contains:
Outfit
Poly: around 6k, for all ages and genders;
Presets: 2, with different UV maps;
Fully recolorable, 4 recolorable channels;
Categories: Everyday, Formal, Swimwear, Sleepwear, Athletic, Outerwear;
Valid for maternity (females, from teen to adult).
2. Shoes:
Poly: 0.7k ;
Presets: 5;
Fully recolorable, 4 recolorable channels (only for the first present, the other 4 are non--recolorable);
Categories: Everyday, Formal, Swimwear, Athletic, Outerwear;
Valid for maternity (females, from teen to adult).
3. Costume Makeup:
Found in: Makeup / Costume Makeup;
Presets: 3 (in one file);
Fully recolorable, 4 recolorable channels;
Categories: Everyday, Formal, Swimwear, Sleepwear, Athletic, Outerwear;
Valid for maternity.
4. Clown Nose:
Found in: Accessories / Earrings;
Poly: 0.5k;
Presets: 1;
Fully recolorable, 1 recolorable channel;
Categories: Everyday, Formal, Swimwear, Sleepwear, Athletic, Outerwear;
Valid for maternity.
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Notes:
You may notice some blurriness on the collar in game. It's because TS3 doesn't deal well with stuff painted on meshes and also due to my choice to keep the textures at their original size.
The outfit might get blurred altogether if you use it with very high poly hairs. Not noticeable in CAS, but in game it might end up looking odd. In this case, the solution is to go back in CAS and change the hair.
I wanted to make a toddler version too, but the meshes got distorted too much.
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Download :
Mediafire
SimFileShare
Patreon
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Thank you to my supporters on Patreon & Ko-fi!
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TOU 🔊 Do not re-upload my creations. Do not claim as your own. Do not put them anywhere up for download and don’t add adfly to my links.
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 9 months
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Could you do a Fem reader x Bellatrix Lestrange whereby, Reader is hanging out with Narcissa after not seeing for years and their at the Malfoy Manor. Apparently Narcissa's sister was visiting for a few months before she would go away, Y/n is introduced to Bellatrix and something within her can't get enough of Bellatrix and she doesn't get why. After a week has passed by, Y/n was desperate to see Bellatrix again, her aching core was making it hard to do anything. She decides to visit Narcissa as an excuse to possibly get a glimpse of her stunning sister but she's greeted by Bellatrix who tells her that the Malfoy's have gone out for a whole week but she let's Y/n in regardless. After a while, Y/n and Bellatrix started to get to know each other a little better in fact they sat next to each other on the same couch as well, with Bellatrix caressing Y/n's knee and lifting it up to her thighs slowly yet enough to increase the ache in Y/n's heated and wet core. Bellatrix finger fucks her right there and then making it hard for Y/n to compress her screams. This was exactly what she's been aching for. To bad it was all a dream and she had been masturbating herself this whole time.
:)
Warning(s)- NSFW, Fingering, Masturbating, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink etc if needed.
Heyyy there @itzvintagevibez !! Thanks for the request 💞 I would love to write this for you <33 I’m excited, as I’ve only written a little for Bellatrix! Hope you are well, darling & Hope you Enjoy ♥️
Merely a Daydream ~Bellatrix Lestrange xFem Reader
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Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, daydreaming, wet dreams, masturbation, fingering, teasing, mommy kink, praise kink, etc.
Enjoy (;
“Y/N, Darling, it’s so good to see you, do come in!” Narcissa cheerfully invited you into the Manor.
You smiled at your long time friend and entered into the gigantic mansion. You two kissed each others cheeks as a hello, before she led you into the lounge area.
“I can’t believe it’s been far too long…” you pondered aloud.
“It certainly has.” Narcissa sighed.
The two of you chatted, catching up over tea, and after a few hours, you were wrapping up. Narcissa lead you to the main entrance, but before you could reach the door, there was a sudden pop!. Both your heads swiveled to the source of the sound, the chimney. From out of the dark hole stepped a mysterious, darkly dressed, intriguing woman.
“Woo!” The curly haired brunette exclaimed, before turning her attention to the two of you.
The woman stepped forward into the light, and you gasped. It was Bellatrix. In all the time of being friends with Narcissa, you had never actually met her infamous sister…
“Well hello there…!” Bellatrix quipped, cocking her head at you slightly and taking you in.
Narcissa cleared her throat a little to draw you both out of your spiraling minds.
“Bella, this is my old friend, Y/N. Y/N this is my sister, Bellatrix.” Narcissa spoke,“Bella, I apologize, I did not know you were coming this early.”
“Ehh, decided that I was too bored so I thought I’d pop in early.” The dark haired witch casually explained.
You nodded nervously in recognition of Bellatrix. The curly haired witch stalked toward you, but instead of shaking your hand or holding a greeting, she circles your figure slowly, her eyes taking you in. She then backs away again with a light hum of satisfaction. You felt blush creep up your cheeks at the witches wandering eyes. Narcissa cleared her throat.
“Anyways, it was lovely seeing you again, Y/N.” She spoke to you.
Her words snapped you out of the trance that the crazy brunette had you in.
“Yes…! Thank you for having me, I really must be off…!” You exclaimed.
Narcissa led you to the door and said her good byes. And as you left, Bellatrix managed to get one last word in.
“Nice knowing ya’, Y/N…!!” She exclaiemd, putting special emphasis on your name and making you blush even harder.
~~~
Seeing Narcissa again had gotten you excited and all chipper, but after your afternoon at Malfoy Manor, your mind constantly came back to one thing…
Bellatrix.
At first the thoughts were minor and passing. You wondered about her mysterious and dark past. Thought about her looks and figure. But day by day, your mind fell deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole that was Bellatrix Lestrange. By the end of the week, you were in such a state of pain, your core was throbbing so hard it made your ears ring.
The only thing that managed to sate your reeling mind and aching heat was the thought of the curly haired brunette. You couldn’t get enough of her, you couldn’t function without sating yourself to the thought of the witch. You’d be sprawled out in your bed, your hand wandering down to were you so desperately needed relief. A sigh would leave your body as your fingers started to circle your clit. And when you couldn’t wait anymore, you’d slip a finger or two into your drenched hole, whimpers and mewls flowing from your lips as you fucked yourself to the fantasy of her.
~~~
You’d been so desperate to see the curly haired witch again that you’d reached out to Narcissa once more, proposing a tea time get together at Malfoy Manor. You’d gotten no response for a another whole week, making you only more desperate and needy. So you resolved to just go to the Manor and talk with Narcissa there. And maybe even possibly run into a certain witch…
You knocked on the door to the expansive Malfoy Manor. You waited a few minutes, before the door suddenly swung open. Your eyes widened and you gasped slightly when none other than Bellatrix Lestrange stood in front of you…
“I… You’re not Narcissa…” you stammered.
“I most certainly am not, am I…!” The witch exclaimed with a smaller cackle.
“I was… hoping to talk to her.”
“She’s out. On holiday or something… I’m watching the Manor.” Bellatrix hummed, leaning against the door and smirking her signature smirk.
“Oh right…” you stammered, standing still and not knowing what to do.
“Why don’t you come in anyway…?” The curly haired brunette suggested, swinging the door open dramatically and all the way.
You blushed and nodded, entering the Manor. Bellatrix led you to the Manor living room, where you sat. She ordered some tea from the house elves, before sitting down right next to you. Your throat went dry at the close contact, her thighs touching yours…
“So… tell me about yourself… Y/N…” The witch wickedly purred, emphasizing your name once more.
As you were about to speak, or at least attempt to, you felt the woman’s hand on your knee, teasingly caressing your figure. Your breath hitched and your eyes widened.
“I… uh… um…” you stuttered, your face flushed red and your breathing completely erratic.
Her hand slowly moved up and up your thigh. This only added to the intensity of your pounding core. You clenched your thighs together in neediness. Bellatrix kept eye contact with your gaze the entire time, as she awaited your response with a wicked smirk. She began opening your thighs just enough for her hand to snake it’s way under your skirt. Her fingers grazed your clothes clit.
“My my… you’re soaked, pretty girl…” she tauntingly mused aloud.
You bucked your hips into her hand as her fingers teased and caressed your clothed core. She then finally moved your knickers to the side, swiping a finger through your folds teasingly before pulling away. A pathetic whimper escaped your throat, which made the woman chuckle.
“Tell me what you want, sweet girl…” she taunted.
“I… Want… want your fingers… please…” you whimpered.
“Good girl…”
With that, Bellatrix hummed in delight and slid two of her fingers into your throbbing cunt. She set a fast and harsh pace, finger fucking you with skill and ease. Your whimpers and moans grew louder and louder, and you bit your lip, trying desperately to stifle your leud noises. She added another finger, pumping and curling into your core while watching you intently with the biggest fucking grin.
“Fuck shit—Mommy!!” You screamed out in pleasure.
“Shhhh, Mommy’s got you…” she cooed wickedly.
Your sounds were getting too loud, so Bellatrix silenced your mouth with her other hand, as you finally clenched around her fingers and saw stars. You sighed in relief. The aching in your core was finally sated.
~~~
And then your eyes fluttered open. And you saw your heaving frame, splayed across your own bed, as you panted heavily. You groaned to yourself lightly.
It had seemed so real…
You pulled your fingers out of your wet pussy, sticking them in your mouth and licking all your slick off. You sighed, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed. God, you needed a shower…
It had felt so real… all of it…
But alas, merely a daydream.
~~~
Bellatrix Lestrange Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;
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