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capslocked · 6 months

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.”

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

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hauntingbutch · 2 years

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i fucking love granola. crunch crunch am i right

#just had some granola in my blueberry yogurt it was good #eli.txt

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estesphantom · 1 month

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Midnight Bite | Bucky Barnes & Reader

Summary: It was another one of those nights Bucky spent sleeping on the floor while fighting memories of his past. Conveniently, he had you next to him and some snacks in the kitchen.

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), pre-established “situationship”, unprotected sex, nightmares, age gap (considering Bucky is over a hundred years old), slight dom/sub, not entirely proofread, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Your chest rose and fell intermittently as your eyes were glued on your partner’s resting body. The hardwood floor felt worth sleeping on if it meant Bucky didn’t feel alone sleeping there when you were accompanying him. The TV chattered on low volume and the lights lit up the living room ever so slightly so that it wasn’t pitch black. The house was kept this way when he slept to feel safer while simultaneously preventing his night terrors.

On the contrast, these conditions did everything but help you have peace when you slept. Here you lay unable to sleep, however, you were content with that as you got watching him sleep as a fair trade.

His eyebrows began to scrunch closer together. Yours mirrored his as you watched him in confusion. His body slowly grew restless in small motions such as fingers twitching and tossing and turning. He told you not to wake him for your own safety, so you hoped this was just a vivid dream and not a nightmare. You knew this was wishful thinking.

He continued to progress in stress and fear until he subconsciously broke out in tears and eventually woke himself up. By this time you inched closer to his body to make sure things didn’t get serious. He jolted up and his eyes darted around the room before they met yours. He let out a brief, hard sigh.

You frowned in sympathy. “You’re safe,” you say gently as you place a light hand on his bare arm. His breathing began to return to a normal pace ever so slowly as he slumped against a wall. He was too shocked to speak or process your presence at the moment.

“They won’t go away,” the man sounded childlike and defeated as he stared at the wall. You scooted right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder to bring him back a little more.

It came clear to him that physical strength doesn’t mean a thing when his brain is the most power tool that serves his body, yet poisons any ounce of peace offered to him.

“Maybe that’s the truth for now,” you say, inhaling. “But time heals all wounds. You’ll make it out alive,” you smile at him reassuringly after you lift your head up to see his tired, loving eyes meet yours.

He picked up your hand. His rough, calloused thumb caressed the back of your hand as he raised your hand to give it a kiss. You smiled at him even more. Making you smile was something that made Bucky feel more human. Less killing-machine like.

“Grab a snack with me?” he asks, standing up and lifting you up gently. You giggle as he carries you to the kitchen and sets you down on the counter. He opens his fridge and glances at you. “All right, doll, strawberries? Blueberries? Yogurt?” he listed off things he knew you liked. Your legs swung as you ruminated.

“Yogurt,” you spoke after a few moments of debating.

“Yogurt it is,” he says, grabbing two for the both of you. He peeled yours open and grabbed a spoon, scooping a little out.

Your legs we had enough room in between them so that he could stand between them. He leaned against the counter and placed a gentle hand on your chin, opening your jaw ever so gently and feeding you the yogurt with the other hand. You swallowed it with a hum of satisfaction.

His thumb wiped off the excess yogurt on the side of your mouth. His eyes seemed so calculating. He watched you like a hawk. It made you sort of nervous, how close you were and the look in his eyes. You could recognize that look from anywhere.

“No, Buck, it’s midnight,” you say before he feeds you another scoop of yogurt. He chuckles smugly.

His hand placed the yogurt down and snaked around the back of your neck. You gulped the yogurt down and sharply inhaled as you knew where this was going. His other hand rested on your thigh and remained stationary, waiting for consent.

You sighed and giggled, nodding at him.

“‘Atta girl,” he kissed your chin. “I wasn’t interested in this yogurt anyway.”

He pushed the yogurts out the way and, with both hands, pushed your thighs apart. You gasp in surprise as cold metal laid on your right thigh. Your lips were suddenly shut as they met his. The kiss was feverish and sloppy as he used one hand hooked the waistband of your pajama shorts. You lifted your hips and he slid your shorts off.

He broke the kiss to admire his beautiful doll spread on the counter just for him. All his. You blushed in slight embarrassment, feeling exposed before him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, doll, every bit of you,” he mutters as if he’s saying it to himself. He peppered your face in loving kissed before placing both hands on your waist and pulling you to the edge of the counter, laying you down.

Your chest rose as you gasped for air, feeling his lips on your clit. Your hands grabbed for any nearby surface as you felt his tongue lick across your clit painstakingly slow. A moan escaped your lips as you felt two metal fingers coat itself in your slick and enter your body while his tongue simultaneously explored your core.

His fingers curved inside of you, slowly pulling in and out. Your back arched as his tongue gained a little bit more speed from when it was familiarizing itself. You began to squirm and whimper as the sensation was already a lot for you.

He didn’t allow this, of course, and used his free, warm hand to firmly grab onto your waist. You moaned in agony as you were held in place and had to endure the sensation. There were nothing but butterflies in your stomach.

Once again, his fingers increased in speed. You moaned even louder while your hand clasped onto the one holding your waist down in a desperate attempt to be freed to squirm. To no avail, it stayed.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, princess,” you felt his voice vibrate against your clit. Your walls clenched around his fingers as they incessantly picked up speed.

“Fuck, I might—“ as you spoke, Bucky immediately pulled his fingers out and stood from his position. You groaned in even more agony as the sensation quickly died down in your body.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it,” he tutted, his hand on back to guide you to sit up a little. Your eyes begrudgingly looked into his as you sat up to eye level with him.

His flesh hand opened up your jaw, two of his metal fingers entered your mouth. He had you taste the fresh slick of your core before he slid his fingers out of your mouth and chuckled. Your eyes were big and round while gazing at him.

“So good f’me, not an utter of complaint,” he smirked before guiding your smaller hands to his boxers. You sharply inhaled as you pulled them down low enough before they fell at his ankles.

He laid you back down on his cold counter before spreading your legs once again. You felt his warm tip tease your entrance as it coated itself in your slick. Your eyes squeezed shut. His hands rested firmly on your hips.

“Tell me when you’re ready for me to start moving, okay?” he warns. You felt his cock enter you and you whimpered in pain.

You struggled to even clench as he filled you up. Pain was the first thing you felt as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you. You heard him groan in pleasure above you. The unspoken thing about Super Soliders was that they were large in not only length, but also girth. You struggled as you felt yourself stretch against him.

“So fuckin’ small, you are,” he gritted out as his hips finally met your pelvis. You took a deep, long breath.

“Okay, I’m okay,” you muttered out. His thumb caressed your waist in response and his cock slowly pulled out. You moaned as the pain subsided into pleasure. Delicious, drool-worthy pleasure. He was big, and it felt like he was sculpted just for you.

Beginning at an easy pace, he thrusted in and out of your body, earning moans and groans from the both of you. You clenched around his cock in pleasure as you stretched just so perfectly around him. He felt the same way; Bucky lifted one hand off of your waist to grope your breast through your thin tank top.

Your moans began to increase as he picked up his pace to a perfect speed. He used a thumb to circle on your clit. He grinned at the sight of you; drooling, moaning, your cunt stretched as far as it can for his cock. The perfect view if you asked him.

He fucked you silly.

“I-I’m not lasting for much longer, Buck,” you managed to ease out as you felt your climax coming in quickly.

He picked up the speed as he groaned, not being able to form a response. You were so perfect. Your moans and groans turned to a symphony as you both were in sync, getting closer and closer.

“Cum for me baby,” he pleaded with you as he thrusted in and out of you. You whimpered in response and felt warmth all over your body as you reached your climax, he seemed to do the same as you felt warm seed enter your body. He groaned in pleasure and relief.

He thrusted in and out of you sloppily as you felt your clit throb from exhaustion. He pulled out of you slowly to give your body time to adjust. As he left your body, you felt his cum deep out of you. You groaned in uncomfortableness.

He kissed your damp forehead, grabbing a nearby tissue and wiping the leaked cum off of your skin. He peppered your face in kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and ‘thank you’s to you.

#x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #smut #bucky barnes #james barnes #mcu

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thebiscuitlabryinth · 2 months

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Nowadays, Pure Vanilla has gotten used to his sleep fluctuating wildly between turbulent dreams and sleep like the void itself has swallowed him whole. It seems like a game of chance whenever he rests his head down, and neither option leaves him any less tired the next morning.

Today, his dreams are absurd, swirling and spilling into each other, and vividly upsetting in a way he can't identify. He shut his eyes tight, but that doesn't block out the rest of his senses. He can hear begging, crying, shouting, and the scent of something burning and wilted lilies clashes in the air, creating a suffocating smell that winds around him slow. It is awful, but it is slightly less so, now that he knows how to recognise when he is in a dream. More importantly, he has a question, and he is more than aware of Shadow Milk's lingering presence.

"You founded the study of Dark Moon Magic, didn't you?"

It is a soft question, but one that is sure of itself. Instantly, the sounds and smells and sensations that had been plaguing Pure Vanilla disappear. Pure Vanilla keeps both his eyes closed for the time being, just in case. Tonight, his staff is absent like a missing leg, and he misses the added security of being able to look through it.

"Oh, come on! Don't interrupt the scene, we were just getting to the good part!" Shadow Milk's voice responds with frustration, the sound coming from all sides. It is precisely because it comes from all sides that Pure Vanilla keeps his eyes closed, not quite trusting that the shards of his nightmares have been fully swept away. He doesn't want to find out what Shadow Milk could possibly consider to be 'the good part' amidst the sounds of suffering and anguish.

Instead, Pure Vanilla sighs. "It was your choice to stop everything when I asked that, wasn't it? You can't blame me for that."

"Bzzt! Wrong! I can blame you because you did interrupt. It doesn't matter what I did in response, a disruption is a disruption." Shadow Milk declares loudly, voice a little rougher, as if he was daring Pure Vanilla to argue back. But his voice is now only coming from one source, right in front of him, so Pure Vanilla cautiously opens his eyes to check the surroundings.

He finds himself in the library of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, and nostalgia eagerly rears its head within him, somewhat surprised. He's stood beside a littered table, surrounded by the deep blue bookshelves of his youth and the comforting smell of aged paper. The details blur a little past that, some of the shelves lighter, more like the bookshelves in his chambers in the Vanilla Kingdom, leaving it less like a perfect replica and more like a collage made out of bits and pieces of his lifetimes' worth of memories, but it is mostly the Blueberry Yogurt library.

Shadow Milk is across the table from him, tutting when Pure Vanilla takes too long to reply. He leans his elbows on the table, propping his chin on the bridge of his linked fingers. "Sneaky, silly-Vanilly, trying to use me to get out of your funny little nightmares. Very, very sneaky."

"It worked, didn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, a bit stiffly, because that had never been his main intention, mostly because Shadow Milk isn't nice enough for him to think it would work. No, his main intention is genuine curiosity, and that is exactly why he continues to prod. "...You didn't answer my question."

"Because it's a stupid one." Shadow Milk hums back, tilting his head to the side. He tilts it far enough that his cheek is now resting against his hands instead of his chin. "You should be able to figure that out yourself. Didn't I already tell you where my home is?"

Pure Vanilla doesn't answer for a moment, laying a tentative hand on the edge of the table as he tries to squint at the papers across its surface in the dim lamplight. It takes him a second to realise that they're all forbidden texts on Dark Moon Magic, and when he does, he murmurs back. "It's better to clarify than assume, isn't it?"

This time, Shadow Milk is the one who doesn't answer for a moment, instead staring at him with those piercing eyes. Pure Vanilla can feel more around him, behind him, lurking in the shadows pooling in the nooks and crevices and he can't help it – he shivers slightly.

That reaction must be enough for Shadow Milk, because he snorts, and pushes off the table to lean back, kicking his feet up onto the table and right on top of texts, which is already enough to make Pure Vanilla wince. Poor library etiquette aside, the movement is horribly uncanny to watch, partly because he is leaning back onto thin air instead of a chair, partly because he moves so quickly it's like his limbs snap into place, and partly because his smile is stretched far too thin as he does so.

"Of course I did. I'm very talented, you know." Shadow Milk announces smugly, his eyes never leaving him. They narrow slightly, all of them in suspicious synchronisation, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But I must admit, I am crumbling to know why you brought it up."

Whys are always difficult to answer, especially for something as difficult as motives, which can morph and change over time. Pure Vanilla hates lying, but he hates lying in front of Shadow Milk even more, because he seems to recognise every single one and Pure Vanilla doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

But he really can't admit the core of the matter to his face. He can't admit that ever since he glimpsed the ghost of Shadow Milk's past, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He can't admit that he is actively trying to glimpse it again, and what better way to try and draw it out than with any scholar's pride and joy – their work?

"It's impressive. I, myself, have mastered White Magic over the years, and I certainly contributed to its development, but I cannot claim that I created it as a school of magic." Pure Vanilla explains instead, and it isn't a lie either, just lacking all the details. He fidgets a bit, tugging at his own sleeves, adding quieter. "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding."

I want to know more about you.

There is another lapse of silence, and Pure Vanilla is tense with tentative hope. After all, if Shadow Milk was really against the topic altogether, he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of plucking him out of his nightmares.

Shadow Milk's smile is sharp like a knife, clashing with the casual way he folds his arms behind his head, almost languid as he finally muses. "Oh, really? That doesn't sound right. I'm sure there's enough details lying around to get the gist of it. After all, you've used Dark Moon Magic before, so you must know something about it already."

Pure Vanilla flinches back, and it isn't a surprise that he knows about that too, not anymore, but it still leaves him with unstable footing. Regardless, he doesn't let that scare him off the topic, which he suspects is exactly why Shadow Milk said it. "...I've only really used it once, and I don't remember much about what happened. So I may know something, but that something is rather little."

It's a confession, and the truth. His brief tangle with Dark Moon Magic is a complete blur in his own mind, watered down to blinding sensations and a heartache so intense he had felt like he was crumbling. Theoretically, he knows enough about Dark Moon Magic to hold a conversation, but he remembers nothing about it in practise.

"You know who could help you with that?" Shadow Milk asks, seemingly unbothered, but the words curl with open mockery and a smirk. He tilts his head back slightly so he can look down on Pure Vanilla and throws his arms out dramatically. "Our beloved, newly coronated Guardian! She has plenty of experience with–"

Pure Vanilla's heart lurches painfully.

"Don't talk about her!" He interrupts, voice bursting out louder than he expected and panic fluttery in his chest. He doesn't want to hear him tear at her old wounds, even if she can't hear it herself. He knows how vulnerable that cry makes him seem though, and he fumbles to lower his voice to something softer, less shaky. "Don't– please, I'm asking you for a reason."

Shadow Milk giggles, a strange grating sound that climbs higher with each breath, until he is laughing in earnest. He curls into himself, arms wrapped around his middle, and the position looks painful with his feet still planted on the table. Pure Vanilla watches him warily, a little shaken by the mention of White Lily, and wonders if maybe, he was wrong about what he thought he saw in Shadow Milk. He has been seeing more things that aren't there, recently.

His laughter stops abruptly. The stillness that follows is jarring, but doesn't last long.

Slowly – so slowly that it is unnerving, for someone who typically moves as erratically as him – Shadow Milk reaches forward with one hand and plucks a scroll up from the table. He unrolls it with a lazy flick of his wrist, the other end tumbling away over the edge of the table and across the floor. It is a smooth movement, Pure Vanilla notes through the pounding of his heart and his scrambled nerves, a practised motion that speaks of thousands of opened scrolls.

Shadow Milk peers over at the contents of the scroll with an empty, disinterested expression, his legs melting through the table until he appears to be sitting somewhat politely again. The sudden switch to this from his near hysterical laughter leaves Pure Vanilla disturbed, unsure if this is progress or not.

"I wanted to strike a balance between Black and White Magic." Shadow Milk says, his voice a disconcertingly low murmur, almost monotone. While his main eyes remain steadily on the scroll, the rest are eagerly burrowing into Pure Vanilla from all sides. "Black Magic draws from the void, making it unpredictable and destructive by nature, but full of potential. White Magic draws from the moon, primarily, and other celestial sources, making it safer and easier to use, but limited in its purity. If I could find the middle ground, I could harness magic with more flexibility and power but less unpredictability."

Shadow Milk pauses then, his eyes sliding up to stare right at Pure Vanilla, and his lips quirk upwards. When he speaks again, his voice gains a little more character but remains mainly flat, like a poorly-delivered theatrical monologue. "The dark side of the moon was the obvious choice for a source of that kind of power, because it's the natural overlap between the moon and the void. Once you figure out a source for magic, it's simple to find a way to draw from it, and to make it simpler, I had access to the knowledge of the Witches at my fingertips. All I had to do was write everything down, and the school of Dark Moon Magic was born. Easy-peasy!"

Shadow Milk throws the scroll to the side with little fanfare, not even sparing a glance at those ancient texts as they land in a heap of old paper on the floor, uncaring of if they damage or rip. And why would he? They both know this is a dream, and even if it wasn't, he had written that scroll himself.

Pure Vanilla would have cared, dream or not, if he wasn't wholly distracted, reduced to only a wide-eyed blink.

Because Shadow Milk may feign a bored face and voice, as if reading off a report or a particularly uninspiring script, but when their gazes meet, his eyes glitter like shooting stars, sparking with pride and passion and something else.

It captivates Pure Vanilla, the very same shine that comes with a breakthrough for every researcher. It is exactly what he had been hoping to see again, but the sight still leaves him feeling unmoored, even if pleasantly. Intruige and hope swirl within him, and he suddenly finds himself desperate to hold onto this ghost of the past, to make it stay longer and help it spill into the present.

"What does it feel like?" The question comes out before Pure Vanilla can think it through, focused on continuing the conversation before Shadow Milk can pick up his showmanship again in full. "Dark Moon Magic, I mean."

Shadow Milk huffs, a playful grin settling on his face again, and a sickening mix of dread and disappointment trickles through Pure Vanilla as he watches him lean over, crushing more texts beneath his palms. For a scary moment, he expects him to make another quip towards his previous use of the magic, or worse, bring up White Lily again.

He doesn't. Shadow Milk kicks his legs up behind him, so that he is laying on his stomach in mid-air, and cheerfully asks, "How about I show you?"

He doesn't wait for Pure Vanilla to process what he said, let alone reply. He reaches out and ensnares Pure Vanilla's hand, the one normally occupied with his staff, and laces their fingers together. Pure Vanilla doesn't reciprocate the hold, surprised, but only tries a small unsuccessful tug in response.

Shadow Milk's grip is an oppressive pressure, tight but not quite painful. He presses their palms together firmly, and Pure Vanilla gasps.

Magic bursts through the contact, rushing through his jam in a dizzying, warm flood. It is thicker, heavier than the magic Pure Vanilla is used to, thrumming and twisting as if it has a mind of its own, almost scratching at his dough as if trying to consume him, and he can't even concentrate on it because– because–

He can see everything.

Pure Vanilla really, truly can. He can see Shadow Milk's curling smile in front of him, he can see the Faeries having a feast, he can see Black Raisin greeting the moon from one of the Vanilla Castle's towers, he can see Dark Cacao striding through the citadel, he can see White Lily going through her morning routine, he can see his own sleeping body, and places and Cookies he doesn't have the presence of mind to recognise, all simultaneously. He doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't even know how to focus on anything, and his head hurts like it is falling apart.

This is how Shadow Milk has been watching me, he thinks deliriously, the only thought he can manage as he drowns in his sights.

And then, in a snap, he is back in the library with only one scene to see. His vision swims a little at the edges as if it didn't get the message, and he wobbles in place.

Shadow Milk is still holding his hand, but the grip is slightly looser, and the stream of his Dark Moon Magic is gone like a whisper. His grin is sinister and too big for his face, but his eyes still burn like stars.

"Fun, isn't it?" Shadow Milk coos, giddy like it is a shared secret, lifting Pure Vanilla's trembling hand and brushing a kiss to the back that buzzes with Dark Moon Magic. "My very first masterpiece."

Pure Vanilla wakes up disoriented, with a ringing headache and an itch in the back of his hand. White Lily notices his poor state almost immediately when she sees him – wonderful as she is – and she asks if he had a nightmare with that gentle, concerned slope to her brows.

Pure Vanilla adjusts his grip on his staff, leaning against it more than usual.

"No." He assures her lightly, not quite the truth and not quite a lie.

[next]

#oops this was longer than i expected #i mainly just wanted an excuse to wax lyrical about possible interpretations of their magic systems <3 #sm is having the time of his life btw. pv? not so much #writing this is like a tightrope act between pv's idealistic hopes and sm-related psychological disturbance #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pureshadow #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

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kairismess · 2 months

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Hello!! Can I request a kageyama x reader? Where it's just high school fluff they're both crushing on each other :)

I love ur writing btw<33

hearts' day 008.

in which the king of the court has found his better half.

"...i don't have a crush."

he gruffly responded to you as he practiced his tosses, seeming a lot sloppier than how he performed before you asked him that question out of the blue. you chuckled, seeing how the question made him trip up on his feet and throw him off balance for a minute.

"well, what would you say if i told you i had a crush?" you challenged him, making him choke on his breath and forget he was ever practicing in the first place. his open hands received nothing and remained frozen in the air, the ball missing its mark and falling behind him as the blueberry haired boy stared up into the now empty space above him where no ball flew or awaited him any longer.

he slowly retracted back into a normal standing position, his arms falling to his sides, as he slowly turns to look at you, a dark storm cloud over his dark blue eyes as he crinkles up his forehead and nose at your words. "...is that so?" he asks you, a red hue tinting his cheeks a little as you smile and nod, with him not realizing who your crush is.

kageyana retrieves the ball to practice his serves again, all while keeping his ears sharp for hints on who this mystery crush of yours could be.

"he has short, dark hair..."

"uh-huh."

"and dark blue eyes..."

"mhm..."

"and a permanent scowl on his face, but it curls up into a happy, child-like smile when he's eating yogurt or drinking milk."

"o... kay."

you could not be talking about him right now... could you?

you chuckled and walked closer to him, the volleyball he forgot to receive in your hands after you picked it up for him, handing it to him shyly with a smile. "and did i forget to mention, he's very... talented at volleyball. like, crazy talented, i've never met anyone as dedicated to the sport as him. and i love him more and more everyday that i see him working hard to achieve his dreams."

kageyama's dark blue eyes widened, a tint of red strewn across his cheeks. "...hinata, you mean?" he asked you, all those hints you dropped earlier flying over his blueberry head.

you pout and playfully hit his head. "dumbass." you mutter, about to chuckle. kageyama couldn't help but glare at you a little, he wasn't exactly mad at you, but he was a little frustrated at you making him guess who you like instead of you outright telling him.

he captured your cheeks, squishing them with one hand in a tight grip. "spit it out, who is it?" "like i'd tell you, tobio..." "c'mon, get on with telling me, or else... i'll never tell you that i like you–"

oh crap.

your eyes met his, that slight tinge of red on his face shifting to a full blown flustered expression made kageyama let go of your cheeks, withdrawing from you by a few steps, looking away from you as he tried to forget what he just admitted to you, hoping you'd forget what he said, or even didn't get to hear a word of it.

"...you like me back?" you asked him in a shy whisper, making kageyama's ears perk up, his head whipping backwards to face you, his blush remaining on his face. "...like you back?" he repeated involuntarily, making you get a shy and flustered, smiling like a dork as you fiddled with your thumbs. "yeah... you like me, and i... i like you."

"i... i guess i do."

"you guess?"

"i-i mean... dammit." he muttered as he approached you, not even looking at you. and in the blink of an eye, he leaned over and pecked a soft kiss on your forehead, quickly moving away from you as he regret what he just did, while you remained in a blissful shock as a warm fuzziness flooded your entire body, making you smile even wider.

"hey, you can't just run off after giving me a kiss, tobio... lemme return the favor." you offered, grinning sweetly, threatening to make kageyama fall for you even more as he could only freeze up in place and nod slowly to your offer of returning his affections–and to him... this was nice, really, really nice. and fuzzy. and warm. and just so right.

he could get used to it... he was already missing you even though you were right here with him, oh, just what have you done to the blueberry boy's heart?

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neon-zipperooni · 3 months

Text

bit of a theory/headcanon, what if the beasts had different names before their corruption? it's a common theme in cookie run whenever a cookie ascends or gets corrupted or whatever they have some sort of name change, like croissant -> timekeeper, frost -> frost queen, white pearl -> black pearl, octopus -> abyss monarch, white lily -> dark enchantress here's some of my ideas for what their names coulda been shadow milk cookie - blueberry milk cookie, kinda inspired by how he very clearly has ties to the blueberry yogurt academy w/ that design + he's very blue and the shapes of his jester hat thingies and the thing on the end of his staff are kinda blueberry shaped mystic flour cookie - maybe light flour cookie, clearly has a light motif going on in their design and it just has a nice ring to it eternal sugar cookie - this one's kinda tricky tbh, harmonic sugar cookie because of the harp? sweet sugar cookie because happiness? i dunno burning spice cookie - here's the guy who inspired this theory, since remember how when the beasts were accidentally mentioned on the anniversary site earlier they were labelled at red spice cookie? maybe that's why silent salt cookie - much like eternal sugar this one's trickier, but i think stalwart salt cookie has a nice ring to it, fits with the knight theming and stalwart's another word for loyal/reliable and that fits with being the light of solidarity

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk spoilers #shadow milk cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #burning spice cookie #silent salt cookie #beast cookies

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bugs1nmybrain · 7 months

Text

sleeping beauty - L Lawliet x Fem!Reader Voyeur + Somnophilia Smut 🩵💤

Writer's Notes: Well. Yea

Word Count: 2839

18+ Minors Do Not Interact!

Warnings: Cringe title cuz I couldn't think of anything more clever, smut, female reader (she/her pronouns), voyeurism, masturbation (L), somnophilia, dub-con, dom L, ooc L?, L uses "my love" and "darling" and "lovely" (new one!) as pet names, unreciprocated kissing, PRAISE, established relationship, unprotected sex, not proofread yet

Dub-con explanation to avoid triggering: L watches reader sleep on surveillance cameras and jacks off to her, L touches and penetrates the reader in her sleep/while she is sleepy. She's not scared or feels violated, she knows it's L and is horny for him even, but the lack of alertness and being extremely drowsy makes the consent dubious.

L was bored.

There really wasn't much happening in his current case, at least not at the present moment. There were many things to do but with it being sleeping hours for the countries he was in contact with, getting any of his plans into fruition was going to have to wait until the morning. After all, it was 2 a.m. The only thing L could do was research. He had been keeping his alerts on all night, impending a new lead, but nothing turned up yet. He had been waiting for several hours. Still nothing.

So he sat at his monitors with a blueberry yogurt. He played with his food, swishing the spoon in and out of the yogurt for many seconds before finally taking a bite. He was getting tired of this boredom; it was killing him.

With nothing better to do, he figured it would be a good idea to check on you. He flicked around his computer screen and opened the tab to the camera in your room. You were often invited to L's room when you wanted, even if he didn't join you for bed. You chose your room tonight though.

When L saw your sleeping form, a strange calmness washed over him. What was it that caused this reaction he pondered? Was it as simple as that he loved you? Or maybe it was knowing that you were safe and secure under his supervision. You were lying there with only a snug tank top and panties, a poor excuse for pajamas L thought. It was easy to see how the shirt hugged your breasts and tummy even from the distance the camera was from you. And your panties were cute, frilly white and pink. The ones he bought for you.

He watched as you snuggled your pillow tight. You seemed lonely. Did you miss him? The thought of you craving his embrace and presence caused a peak of possessiveness in L. Or was it arousal? It was likely both, but L was more so distracted by the way you nuzzled your face in the pillow and grinded your groin on it, with your thighs wrapping around it. Oh, how cute you were.

You looked gorgeous. You always did, but you looked especially alluring tonight. So peaceful. He was grateful that he had more than one camera installed because he could see your drifting form from many angles like this.

L sat there and ate his yogurt while he watched you shamelessly. Your continued grinding and snuggling into the pillow was endearing, but then you let out that noise. Yes, he had wiretaps in there as well. You knew about the cameras and bugs; it was an agreed-upon condition.

L turned the volume down quicker than the speed of lightning to avoid anyone in the other rooms hearing his speakers, and just as quickly grabbed his headphones so that he could hear you much more clearly. Now he had full access to your voice. He was disappointed, though, because you weren't making any more sounds.

You turned to lay on your back, which was odd. L knew you didn't typically sleep that way, but he chalked it up to random occurrence. Though, the way your tits were shaping out into your tank top made him almost want to believe that you were doing this on purpose. Your shirt was raised over your stomach from ruffling around, showing the lower area of your stomach.

Uh-oh

L's attention averted only a little when he realized that his pants were becoming a bit tighter in the crotch. He looked down for a second to see his bulge in his pants. Instinctively, his thumb met his lip, but his gaze went back on you. You were now turned on your side, your round ass facing the camera. Fuck.

Without much thinking about it, L began to unbutton his pants. His cock wasn't fully erect yet, but it was starting to pulse, and was begging for some external stimulation. He pulled his slender, pale dick out from his underwear and stroked the entire length as he watched you in your slumber.

Yes! The noises came back. You whined and mewled in your sleep, hips squirming. L had a good hunch you were having a rather impure dream, which worked well for him. Your sounds were so beautiful. You were being so good for him.

His cock quickly grew to its full length as he stroked it in a timely rhythm. He played with himself as he watched you return to cuddling the pillow, and paid attention to your ass and crotch riving against it. Fuck.

It wasn't enough. You looked beautiful and he loved it. He loved you and seeing you like this. However, simply watching you toss and turn wasn't going to satisfy him. He needed to see you in person, to touch you, to fuck you.

L tucked his cock back in his jeans, though it still created a bulge from his erection. Why did you have to be many flights up the stairs? So inconvenient for him right now. He stood up, hunched as always, and made his way to the elevator. He waited impatiently as the elevator transported him up to your floor, yet when it reached it, he took his time walking toward your door.

L slowly turned the doorknob, making as little noise as humanly possible. When he shut the door, he turned his face to look at you. The sight of you made his heart leap in spike and his cock ache in agony. He stepped very slowly toward your bed, raising his head to see the entirety of your body. The curve between your waist and your hips was lovely and your skin looked glowing under the light of the moon from the window. He wanted to touch you instantly, but he held out for a moment.

He decided to just watch for a moment, but you weren't as antsy as you were before. Perhaps your dirty dream had been over by now. Just seeing you sleep, though, was enough to provide L with all the love hormones he needed. The rise and fall of your peaceful breath was soothing, and you even produced little sleepy sounds that didn't exactly snore, but they were cute regardless.

It was time to take action, he reasoned. L quietly made his way to prop himself beside you on the bed, and began running his delicate hands along your waist.

"Hmm.."

Your response made his cock twitch violently. Just from brief contact, you reacted beautifully to him. He raised his hand to stroke your messy hair out of your face. Your sleeping face was so adorable.

Impulse struck L and he acted on instinct. His face descended down to yours. He planted a very gentle kiss on your lips, relishing in their soft texture. Of course, you didn't kiss him back. Your lips curved into a lovely smile, but your eyes didn't open. Interesting, L thought. You have been exerting yourself in your responsibilities lately, so you were absolutely dozed off.

L made a bold move and gently moved your form from its side position to lie on your back. Your body instinctively tried to snuggle back into the fetal position, but L took your hands in his, circling your palm with his thumb. As he lied your hands down at your side, he trailed his hands up your thighs, relishing in their softness.

He knew that maybe this wasn't morally correct. You were asleep. But you responded so invitingly to his touch. You were so pretty like this. L lightly grazed his fingers along your panties and felt a dampness. He knew it! You must've been having a wet dream and were aroused yourself, though unconscious.

L stopped for a moment, calculating his next step. He didn't want to exactly fuck you while you had no knowledge of it. ..Or? Well, in more specific terms, he didn't want to hurt you, quite the contrary. Maybe it would make your dreams more pleasant. Would it make you sleep better? He didn't want to scare you though, and somnophilia wasn't something you two had really talked about before.

Conceding from his moral inhibitions, L trailed his fingers up your arms, hooking them around your spaghetti straps. He paused for a moment to observe your breathing, still heavy from sleeping. He begins to drag the straps down your arms, taking your top along with them. When the skin-tight fabric was removed from your breasts, L insisted that he could feel his heart pumping through his cock. You were always so pretty, so gorgeous, and all for him.

Your tits were so pretty and your nipples seemed flushed. Was it from your arousal?, L pondered. He slowly latched his lips on one of your nipples, tending to it gently before releasing and going to the other. Your body reacts to the stimulation and your hips drive forward while you give out a pleasured moan. L moves his head back quickly, startled by your reaction.

However, instead of being scared out of his next move, L recognizes that perhaps he could make you feel just as safe and cared about even while you were asleep like this. You shouldn't have to fear him, right? L takes the risk and begins trailing kisses along your chest and up your neck. He actually hoped it would wake you up, even for just a moment, so he could get some clearance from you. As if he hadn't already been kissing you unconsciously, undressing you, and sucking your tits.

With a heavy breath and a groan, you begin stretching your arms upwards. Your eyes open only slightly, and you're hit with confusion at first. Your vision was very blurry, and you could only make out blobs of color and shape. After halfway registering the texture of the lips that were kissing you and how their hair felt against your skin, your tension eased. You could tell it was only your lover by the way he was touching and kissing you; gentle, meticulous, and romantic.

"Mmmrr.." is all you could manage to say. You were very tired and groggy and could feel yourself already falling back to sleep. "..L?"

"What is it, my love?"

"I'm wet."

"I already know that. Do you need me to help you?"

"I'm.." you begin drifting but fight it. "I'm very..tired...but I..."

"Shhh...I know, lovely. I'll take care of you, alright? You just relax and look pretty for me, hm?"

You giggle sleepily and relax your head back as L continued to kiss your neck, "Mm..ye..yes..please.."

"Mm..of course, darling..."

L kissed your cheek tenderly, and then to your lips. You did what you could to kiss back, though it was very sloppy because of your drowsiness. You felt your pussy grow wetter as L stroked the side of your face while he kissed you, but soon his hand moved away from your face and down to a more intimate area.

Slowly, he removed your panties from your body. His brows (that weren't there) furrowed in arousal when he witnessed the slick fluid that strung out from the panties as he took them off your pussy. So wet already, and if that wasn't enough for him to tell, the clear, slick substance that glowed on your panties definitely was. "Silly girl, you're not supposed to sleep with underwear on", he thought.

L's fingers met your pussy, stroking up from your labia up to your achingly sensitive clitoris. Your juices were already coating his fingers. L firmly began to rub two pads of his fingers on your clitoris, wasting no time to circle around in perfect motion. Your body was already completely submitting to his touch. Your hips bucked against his hand, and thank god L knew how to adapt to your sudden movements because he kept fingering your clitoris as you squirmed for him. It felt so incredible with your body feeling intoxicated by all those feel-good emotions he was producing from you. As great as his fingers felt physically, the knowledge of his care and love for you without expecting anything in return made you infinitely more aroused.

Your clit was starting to feel the rolling sensation you were familiar with. "Already?" L snickered in his head. He couldn't feel what you were, but he noticed how your pussy was contracting and moving on his fingers. He knew these movements of the onset of your submission to pleasure.

"There we go..."

"Mmm!" The feeling was almost unbearable. Somehow being halfway asleep made this pleasure better. Perhaps it was the lack of autonomy over yourself in this moment? L kept rolling his fingers along your clit and you felt your orgasm on the verge of exploding.

"A-a-ah!"

"That's it. Don't hold back.." L cooed at you for comfort, though you weren't registering anything he said; they only sounded muffled.

Your clitoris erupts in pleasure and you begin thrusting your hips as your orgasm overtook you. L made sure to stimulate your clitoris for every moment of your orgasm, and you made the prettiest noises for him while he did so.

"Awhhhh~ hmm.."

"You're doing so well for me, lovely. Could I maybe feel how wet and warm you are for me? Would that be ok?"

"So wordy", you thought in your drowsy mind. You hummed in approval for him, much to his delight. L had been wanting to feel you for so long, but he had to make sure you were taken care of, too. Besides, you feel the best when you're properly ready for him.

L took off his pants and underwear, both attached as he did so. His cock was painfully hard and he winced when his fingers grazed it. He himself wasn't immune to overwhelming sensitivity. He adjusted into a position where he could see you as you moved to his thrusts, though it was still very much a branch of missionary.

He pulled your thighs closer and lifted your legs to wrap around him. He placed the tip of his cock before your vagina without inserting it and already felt the heat of your pussy at the touch. Finally, he pushed his cock inside of you, already sighing from only halfway in. L slowly began penetrating you in and out, rolling his hips to meet your G-spot inside.

((fun fact: the g-spot isn't an individual gland or part of the anatomy, it's actually an extension of the clitoris! I'm using the term "g-spot" for easier comprehension because I'm not teaching a sex education class; this is smut))

His long cock rubbed your sensitive sleeve so perfectly, and you somehow produce even sexier sounds than you did when he was focusing on you alone.

"Aawhh~"

"Mmm...you feel so incredible.."

His thrusts were deep and gentle. Not slow, per se, but calculated. It was as if he was trying to savor your pussy, which was true. His penis made slick sounds when it would enter and exited your wet, slobbery cunt. His dick and hands were the only sensations you could process right now, and they felt so good.

"Ah..L.."

"You're doing so good, baby."

L couldn't help his male instincts as his cock grew hungrier by the visual sensations in front of him. The way your lips parted slightly and how your tits would move to his thrusts made him leak. His thrusts become more eager and less restrained, desperate.

"Ah...you're such a pretty girl..so perfect..."

You whined adorably, making him begin to feel his own orgasm approaching. He holds your waist firmly to be able to control his thrusts better, pumping you full as you squealed for him.

"F-*sigh*-fuck. Y/N...I'm so close.."

His hips bucked against you as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. His cock throbbed inside of you for a few split seconds as he finally came inside of you, his own body losing its rigidity as he slumped forward. He rested his forehead on yours, panting with you in unison. You looked like you were on the verge of passing out. He almost felt bad, but he could tell by your pleasant face and relaxation that you enjoyed him making love to you, even if you weren't properly engaged for it.

He pulled out of you, needing to shake the extra seminal residue off of himself before he rested next to you. Messes like this typically bother L's need for cleanliness, but you were exhausted and he was sort of as well. So instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pulled you in to snuggle him. He hadn't slept for many days, he thought that maybe he could afford some slumber with you. He slept the soundest when you were with him, after all.

But as he started drifting off, he contemplated how the situation before would have been if the roles were reversed...

Requested tag: @graceful-disaster

#l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet smut

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Fell in love with quirky murderbot so here's a quirky murderbot Yan that may or may not just want to kill you (tw: death mentions/idolization)

A bath at six in the morning.

You never had the time or energy for it before...

The water was nice. Not too hot, not too cold; pealing the spell of sleep off you at a temperature ideal for a peaceful rise. Enmeshed with first light of the waking sun, the water captures its amber glow - sunken petals at your feet shaded in the afterglow. It smelled faintly of lavender, and a colleague of lesser offenders you couldn't tell. Citrus?... Vanilla? You can't recall a time when your skin has felt smoother - so you don't bother to ask. You know better than to.

The door opens. You lower your knees as the latching stand of a tray attaches to the arms of the tub. Yogurt peers up at you from its bowl with a blueberry smile and sliced banana eyes. A flower vase, and a pair of headphones are its offering to you. A yellow smiley face sticker is plastered to the glass' side.... It shines your spoon before setting it on the tray.

"Brought you leetle snack to keep you steady til you get out. Studies show everything in it boosts mood and happiness levels in humans. I also brought you some headphones so that my outbursts don't effect you while I'm preparing breakfast."

You blow air into the water as you sink deep. "Mhm...."

Your observer gasps. "By my calculations, you seem more relaxed than usual this morning." Does that mean my services have acceptable this morning?"

Here it comes. "I guess."

"You are... satisfied with my work and efforts?"

"Yes."

"... Gonna smile for me?"

"nah."

A knife clatters to the floor.

"I spent nine hours.... "

You put on the headphones as you ease against the floor of the tub.

"9 FUCKING HOURS GETTING THAT PANSY SCHTICK DOWN PACK. DO U KNOW HOW FUCKIN' HARD THAT IS FOUR ME?!?! I GET ROBOT PTSD EVERYTIME I LOOK AT THOSE MANUALS."

"At least you spoke proper English."

"I ran you a bath and didn't plant one of my eyes in the cabinet this time .... BE HAPPY FOUR ONE SEC AND LET ME KILL YOU ALREADY GOD DAMN IT!"

The world is full of too many unfortunate people. Scornful and bitter; miserable and hopeless. It much be such a pain for those people to exist in place unfit for them - when a solution was right around the corner, but they're too damaged to ever see it. You can't be down, if The moto engraved into the mechanized heart of every bot sent out by the Happy Dayz corporation to this prevalent threat to society. They could be anyone you know.

"DOWN3R 4L3RT!!!!!! THR0UGH M0D3R4T10N 4ND H34VY CONSIDERATION, Y0U [Y/n], H4V3 B33N T4RG3T3D 4S 4 D0WN3R. TH3 0NLY CUR3 1S IMM3DIATE T3RM1N4T10N AS T0 4V01D WIDESPREAD INF3CT10N OF THE DISEASE. IF YOU BELIEVE THIS IS AN ERROR, PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL WITHIN 4 HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES OF RECEIVING. TH4NKS. XOXO]

Downer - level three in their classifications and the "incurables" People who will drag themselves and everyone around them down for a crumb of self gratification. Those who drown in the rain when the sun is a reach away; never to come back to shore. Orders were to execute these individuals on sight - but everyone deserves one last chance to smile. And that's how you met D.Kay

In your utmost defense, it was nearly three when you received the email. Even if you were awake, you probably would've written it off as spam and tossed it away all the same. You didn't think of yourself as a negative person, just one with not alot to be happy for. Within those few hours before dawn came a knock at the door and your worse nightmare unveiled - wearing that damned yellow mask.

"Hiya! Name'z D.Kay! Short for somethin' I kno, but U won't be alive long nuff for me to remember. I should be slammin' ur head through a wall, but it'z ur right as a living human to get one more smile in before u croak and my job to make it happen."

That was five months ago. Five long months. Given, there were some benefits. It was their goal to make your life better after all - before ending it. They helped you get a raise, cleaned up messed they mostly made, and a slew of efforts to bring out that smile. Sure your lips may quirk up or you'll smirk a bit - but that isn't a smile. They've also thrown knives into your walls, taken over your bed and refuse to let you sleep elsewhere, and snores. There's also the whole killing you thing, but that's minor at this point.

"Aw, come on- Dyin' cain't be that bad. I'd do it if I could. U'll feel better once ur in the grave." "Smiling feels so good, u' kno. The best way to use ur muscles. Besides slitting someone's throat." "This is my first mission....I was hoping to see gutz by now."

That was as far as your relationship went until one month ago. They've been acting.. strange. They wish you good morning more days than they ask if you're ready to smile. You often wake up with their arms around you and your clothes laid out. They refuse to let you dress yourself if you're going out. They stare for hours, jumping out windows if needed to get when you notice. You didn't have many friends before, but with them around they were ghosts. If you didn't know any better it was almost like they-

"LET ME KISS YOU - WHY ARE U MAKING THIS SO HARD!"

Nevermind. Wait- "Did you say...."

D.kay's impossibly side eyes shrink, mask bleeding red. "I SAID KILL. K-I-L-L. WHY WOULD I EVER BE DOWN BAD FOR A DOWNER?"

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

All at once their tantrum stops. It's the shortest to date. Their head dips back as if pulling the most dramatic of eye rolls. "Protocol.. U know that."

"I read the manual. If a downer refuses your olive branch you have permission to kill them and return immediately."

D.kay doesn't say a word, face still beat red from their slip up. Their hands twitch. Seething, they snatch the spoon from the tray. "Good luck without this. Enjoy your bath."

They slam the door as they leave, sinking again it. Hearing the water remain still, they pull their legs to their chest and kick the wall, hold back enough to prevent another hole. They always come when you're upset - why can't you do anything right? They pull a photo from their pocket. The photo. A picture of someone who looks so much like you it's scary, but they could never be you. They're smiling. It's small - a blip compared to the cheesy grins of everyone surrounding them, but it's still a smile. The best they've ever seen. Something feels wrong whenever they look between you and that person. Maybe they're broken too.

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere android #yandere robot #D.kay my oc

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history-of-walking-upright · 2 years

Text

220cal Fruit (ice)cream bars

(i made two portions ,16 pieces in total, the calories are for 8 pieces, about 30 per piece)

okay first of all…sorry that i was gone so long! depressions got a bit worse and i also found some new hobbies that took a lot of my attention but i try to post every once in a while:)

and nowwww these kinda icecream bars are actually soo good for the summer i absolutely love them!

you need:

-60g of fruit (doesn’t really matter which one, couls change the texture tho)

-2tbsp of yogurt (i used skyr) |22cals|

-2tsp coconut oil |90cals|

-1tbsp cream cheese |90cals|

how to:

just combine everything in a blender,blend until snooth and then just freeze for about three hours:)

i made mine with strawberries and blueberries and i must say that the blueberries made the whole thing a bit more „icy“ becaue they had more juice!

i let them freeze overnight but 3hours should be fine as well:) i also think a chocolate kind would be tasty.

cals might be a bit off because i forgot to weight correctly but ut shouldn’t be too much! maybe 10cals +/-

#low cal #ana #loosing weight #ana recipes #ed recipes #ed #skinny #low calorie #ed things #low calorie recipes #ed breakfast #ana things #eating disorder #losing weight #low cal meal #proana #low cal ideas #ana breakfast

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z0mbi3k1d · 27 days

Text

Romanticizing life Part 4

Food ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

This is just gonna be abt healthy food swaps and things different foods can do for you, I'm not promoting Ed at all!!

Note‼️‼️

Only do these if you want to, you should enjoy your life. That means don't do food swaps all the time, treat yourself! To be honest I probably won't do any of these because I'm happy with my body and don't have too, you should be happy with yourself too!

Eating Healthy 🍓

It is important to eat healthy! It can do lots for your body, skin, and mood, I'm going to give you some healthy food swaps and tasty snacks to help!

Toxic things to get out of your head 🐇

Before I'm going to share these it's important to me that you don't use this unhealthy, stop telling yourself these things

"I need to eat healthy to loose weight"

No, you don't. All bodies are shaped different and process food differently, allergies for example. Not everyone has allergies so what makes you think everyone processes all food the same? You can still be healthy without 'looking healthy'

"I'll only eat for energy, not taste"

Man just enjoy your life 😭 I see ppl say this a lot but it doesn't make sense. Break your shell and try more foods and flavors, enjoy yourself

"I have to look like them"

Nuh uh! You're hotter 💋

Remember if you wouldn't say it to a bunny DO NOT SAY IT TO YOUR SELF‼️‼️

Food swaps 🍡

Here's some food swaps for you!

Sugary cereal ~ Oats with fruit

Ice cream ~ acai bowl

Coffee ~ matcha/Chai

Chips ~ Popcorn

White bread ~ sourdough

My personal favorite healthy foods 🧁

I'd consider myself a pretty picky eater so when it comes to healthy foods this is what I eat

I love all fruits strawberries, blueberries, bananas ect. Fruits are great bc you can do lots with them, you can make smoothies, put them in yogurt or just eat them normally

Peanut butter, okay so I'm not a huge fan but there's a lot you can do with peanut butter and you an make really healthy stuff with it

Granola, guys granola is soooo good I used to eat the bars and they had honey on them too it was so good

Honey is also good but yk

Hummus.. Lowkey feel like a nerd for saying I like it but I do. If you wanna be healthy with it you could use cucumbers!

Cucumbers>>> squash (I hate squash it's so disgusting :p)

Tuna, it has like Idk it's good for you in some ways I wasn't really listening to my father when he was talking abt it

I love nuts!! I think they're a good quick snack

I'd you don't like water get some of the flavors things, they have energy and low cal ones

Apparently dark chocolate is gold for you too sooo

Salmon is also healthy hehe >:)

Chia seeds barley taste like anything so put them in your yogurt or something

TEA TEA IS SOOOOOO GOOD

Things foods can do for you 🍮

Idk how much of this is true but I'm not gonna gatekeep just in case

Dark chocolate can

Holy crap apparently it can protect against UV rays?? 😭😭

It fights tooth decay

And it's a brain food

More brain food

Nuts

Avocados

Eggs

Chia seeds

Fruits

I'm telling you fruits are good for anything and they're sweet!!! They are perfect!!! (If you don't like fruit consider yourself an opp)

Thanks for reading!! 🩷🩷

Thanks for reading!! Have a great day, remember to eat what you want and stay happy!! I love you my sweet angels!! 🩷🩷

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ashuribbon · 3 months

Note

How would Wilted Pure Vanilla feel about White Lily?

Gonna make a few comics about some of the stuff I mentioned, but for now I'll just give a full summary! All under the cut!

In short, before Pure Vanilla became Wilted Vanilla, as a kid in the Blueberry Yogurt Magic Academy, he was friends with White Lily, but it was slightly rocky at times...

Since he is Shadow Milk Cookie but reborn and he didn't know until years later, Pure Vanilla was an outcast at a young age. He would always do that evil laugh that can give any Cookie a fright, mean-spirited pranks on other students that he always got away with (with White Lily always finding out), mildly concerning remarks towards other Cookies when they say anything negative, either saying it's funny or teasing them about it. Pure Vanilla KNEW it's immoral to do these things since it'll only make other students stay away from him, but he kept doing it and didn't know why.

White Lily would be the one who became pals with Pure Vanilla, hoping she can get him to at least get along with the others in the academy despite knowing he was trouble (she nearly got banned from entering the library because he got the book before her but she ended up caught). She tried to get him to fit in, pointing out the problems and teaching him the rights and wrongs. Sure, she had to put up with him from time-to-time and Pure Vanilla had trouble trying to behave himself, but she tried to help him get rid of those "bad habits." After a while the two became really good friends (alongside the other Heroes), even when Pure Vanilla founded the Vanilla Kingdom!

Unfortunately, as years passed, Pure Vanilla went on to discover more about the Beasts, and finally realized why he was the odd one out his whole life... And ultimately, the realization corrupted him into the new Shadow Milk Cookie.

As Wilted Vanilla, he has since cut ties with a lot of the Heroes and refuses to read any letters from them or hear from any messengers, but he only makes White Lily the exception to a small extent. He is too far gone to go back to how things were, but it's nice to hear from her... when she isn't trying to get him to come back to his sense, of course. Even then, White Lily just wants the old Pure Vanilla back...

Yet it's already too late.

#shush it asher #Born Evil AU #Enjoy the angst y'all!

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heyitsspiders · 3 months

Text

Lucifer x Transmasc! Reader -Falling for the Fallen Angel - Chapter 9

Upsetting Thoughts

Lucifer is missing from your normal routine and you figure out why.

a/n: AHHHHHHH THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TAKE FOREVER i've just been really busy with things and also scrolling through tumblr and i didn't have the constant motivation needed to write everything quickly anyways, enjoy!

After that day the two of you began practicing everyday. You’d get up, get ready, join Lucifer in the kitchen, make breakfast and then the two of you would go to the roof and fly. Well, Lucifer would fly and you’d thrash around in the sky as graceful as a plastic bag in the wind.

Look, flying was hard.

However, when you walked through the dining room and opened the kitchen doors you were surprised to see no one there. It was empty. No bright yellow eyes rummaging through the kitchen, no smile greeting you as you walked in. A frown tugged your corners of your mouth down. You quite enjoyed the morning routine the two of you had started. You sighed, maybe he wanted to sleep in today.

This morning you were making lemon blueberry scones, yogurt parfait and french toast. You couldn’t help but have a sadden expression on your face as you got ready, you missed having Lucifer’s arms around you as he pressed soft kisses against you. You shook your head.

You had a job to do. As much as you loved Lucifer, breakfast wasn’t going to make itself. You’d check up on him afterwards but for now, you started with the french toast. You opened your mouth to ask Lucifer if he could grab the milk and egg needed but then closed it.

Right.

He wasn’t here.

Your frown deepened as you continued, grabbing a loaf of bread, ground cinnamon, vanilla extract, an egg and milk. You took out the measuring utensils and began measuring out everything into its proper amounts. You couldn’t help it as your mind kept returning back to Lucifer. It reminded you a lot of the day after he kissed you, except this time you weren’t distracted by the glee and excitement of a kiss, instead it was replaced by the pure and overwhelming feeling of worry.

You were on autopilot as you set the first few bread slices dipped in the egg mixture on the skillet. You watched them cook with glazed over eyes. You were almost completely lost in your mind, anxiety eating at your insides.

If you're being honest, you don’t really remember anything about making breakfast, all of it was a blur. You faintly remember working the floured dough on the counters and scooping yogurt and fruit into clear cups. It was honestly a miracle nothing was burned. You hoped, at least.

As you grabbed the plates of french toast and scones you realized how the plates wobbled. There wasn’t an Earthquake – or, Hellquake? – as far as you knew, why were they shaking so badly? You looked a little lower.

Oh.

Right, of course.

It was just your hands – how long had you been shaking this hard? You took a few deep breaths and tried to still your trembling hands. It worked, a little bit. It’d have to do for now as you continued to the dining room. You set the plates of food at the center of the table before starting your multi-trip venture of bringing all the yogurt parfait over. You placed a cup in front of each chair, as well as plates, utensils and napkins.

You sighed as the table was set, everything in its rightful place. Alright, time to get everyone in here. Your shaky hands tugged open the dining room doors and called out.

“Breakfast’s done!” You shouted. You usually said it in a more sing-songy tone but you weren’t feeling it today.

You were quiet as you leaned against the wall, silently observing the other residents sit down and chatter amongst each other in between bites of the food in front of them. Luckily, no one complained about the food tasting bad or being under/over cooked. So at least you had that going for you.

It took everything in you to not run up all the stairs in the hotel and burst into Lucifer’s room, but it’d be rude to leave. Plus, what if it really was just as simple as him wanting to sleep in and you rush in and wake him up? What if he gets mad at you?

That thought made you swallow hard. Maybe you should leave him alone? You weren’t sure. He was the King of Hell, he could handle himself – however he was also your lover, boyfriend if you will. Surely he’ll understand if you go check on him.

Though, he never really opened up to you. Occasionally you’d catch him lost in his thoughts with a sad look in his eyes and when you ask him about it he’d just smile and tell you it's nothing. You never pushed him for more information, he’d tell you when he felt comfortable, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from growing inside you.

One time after Lucifer had looked particularly upset you had caved and asked Charlie if she knew what might be up. However she didn’t know, confirming he didn’t open up in general. The look on her pale face showed she also had a deep concern for her father and you had the feeling she had tried to get him to open up to her multiple times – and as far as you knew that only worked on the first day he was at the hotel. You thanked her anyway and told her you’d figure it out and she relaxed a little bit at the idea of someone helping her dad.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by someone talking to you, “Hey, bat boy.”

You turned your head to the voice, your eyes settling on Angel Dust, who had a lemon blueberry scone in one of his many hands, “Yeah?”

“You good? You look like you’re really thinkin’,'' a smirk spread across his lips. “You thinkin’ about fu-”

Your face brightened and you shook your hands back and forth as if to wave away his words, “No- nope, no- stop that sentence right there.”

Angel raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “What? I was just going to ask an innocent question!”

You gave him a look, “Yeah, okay.”

Charlie coughed awkwardly, a nervous smile on her face, “Uhm, anyways. Angel has a point.”

“What?” Your head sharply turned to her, a look of confusion and surprise written clearly on your face.

Her eyes widened and she put up her hands, “Not like that! I just meant that you’ve seemed really sucked into your mind.” She explained frantically.

Angel laughed after swallowing another bite of a scone, “I don't know, I think I was pretty spot on!”

You glared at him before you sighed, shoulder slumping, “Just been thinking is all-” Angel opened his mouth “- about where Lucifer is.” You said the last part through gritted teeth as you stared at the spider demon. His mouth closed with a frown.

Charlie looked at you with a reassuring smile, “Ah, he’s probably sleeping in. He was helping me with a few things last night.”

You sighed with relief. Maybe you were overthinking this and just needed to let the poor king rest. You nodded to yourself. Yeah, maybe he just wanted some time to himself. You’d check up on him before dinner instead.

The rest of breakfast went by smoothly and once everyone had walked out the doors you reached for the empty, dirty plates that littered the table. You made a neat stack of plates, setting the various empty cups on top and the used utensils inside of those. You held the unstable tower with both hands and walked backwards into the kitchen doors, using your back to push them open. You squeezed through the crack you had created before heaving the heavy stack onto the counter next to the sink.

You began to mindless clean the numerous dishes as you missed how easily this task was usually whisked away by Lucifer. Everything reminded you of him, including the warmth of the water that lapped at your hands as you scrubbed the dishes that made you wish that it was instead Lucifer holding you. His warmth was addicting, in both his body heat and the way he talked as if he was a drug that you could never get enough of. You used your wrists to rub your eyes as your hands were currently soaking wet and you didn’t feel like wiping them dry. You could feel your fingertips become wrinkly underwater and grimaced. Not your favorite feeling.

There was still a sinking hole in your stomach as you finished up, setting the last cup in the cupboard and closing the door. Your wings flexed and folded repeatedly in a self-soothing manner as you lazily pulled the kitchen then dining room doors open, slipping out and into the hallway. You retreated back into your thoughts as you mindlessly walked to the lobby. You weren’t sure why, maybe the lack of company was getting to you.

You sat at one of the bar stools, resting your elbows on the counter and your head on your hands. Husk raised a red eyebrow with a slightly less bored expression. You asked for the drink that had quickly become your favorite; apple juice. What could you say? It reminded you of the demon king and right now you needed it. You were missing his company and you needed the sweet taste of the juice to soothe you. Husk made a noise that was a mix between a cough and a laugh as he grabbed a bottle from behind him and poured you a glass of translucent yellow beverage.

You grasped the drink, your fingers sliding against the cool glass and pulled it to your lips and took small sips. You wanted to savor it, let the taste fully settle on your tongue before swallowing and repeating the process. It was cold as it went down your throat, leaving the taste of apples in its wake.

Once you finished it you wiped your mouth of any drops that fell on your lips and down your chin. You sighed and moved the glass closer to Husk before pushing yourself up and away from the empty bar and the feline demon.

You checked the time. It wasn’t really that close to dinner but you really couldn’t wait any longer. You mentally hoped to yourself that he wouldn’t be pissed at you. Each step you took made your stomach drop further and further, your throat feeling like a desert as you finally reached the top. Your hands were restless as you fiddled with them, walking unsteadily down the empty hallway to that damned door with an apple on it.

You swallowed hard on nothing as you softly rapped on the door. Your ears were perked, listening intensely for any sound that came from beyond your vision. You heard the shuffling of some sheets and… Sniffling? Your heart dropped. Was he okay?

“Honey.. It’s me, can-... can I come in?” You asked softly before waiting quietly for an answer.

There was an affirmative groan and you gripped the doorknob, twisting it and gently pushing the door open. Your eyes widened at the sight. The room was a mess – to say the least. There were various rubber ducks all over the floor as well as a few tools from his workbench. The room was dark and you squinted as your eyes readjusted and saw your love in a nest of blankets and pillow. His normally bright yellow eyes were dull, barely letting off any light as a tired and sad expression ruled his face. Lucifer’s six usually gorgeous wings – which were a mess as his wings desperately needed to be preened – hugged his small frame on the bed.

He didn’t look up at you, instead opting to continue absently gazing at a duck plush he held in his clawed hands. You carefully walked over and around the ducks and tools as if any sudden movement would startle him and send him running to a place you couldn’t reach him. When you got close enough you reached out a hand before returning it to your side as Lucifer’s wings puffed up.

You sat on his lavish bed a few feet away to give him space. The room was quiet other than the sniffling that Lucifer tried to stifle as he wiped away any tears that remained from previous sobbing. Faint light illuminated the room and you could see the usually neat and presteen king was now in tatters. His golden blonde hair was a mess of tangles and loose strands and his cheeks gleaned in the light – not to mention his puffy and red eyes. You did your best to fight the urge to cuddle and console him to give him enough space.

“What’s wrong?” You spoke barely above a whisper as you observed his face for any details.

You swore you could see his lip quiver for a moment before he took a deep breath in and out before stupidly trying to feign a smile, “Nothing, dear.”

“Lucifer, darling, I mean this in the nicest way possible – I’m not stupid.” You said in a teasing, playful tone. “You have clearly been crying.”

You dared to move closer and when he didn’t react negatively you continued, “I’m here for you, Luci. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You were within reach and carefully rested a hand on Lucifer’s back. His body stiffened before relaxing against your touch. He sighed, closing his eyes.

“I… I’m just- Ugh,” He groaned, throwing his head into the plush in his hands, his words were now muffled, “This is stupid. I’m the King of Hell! I shouldn’t need to talk about my feelings.”

“Darling, even the most powerful people – or demons – need a support group. Let me be that for you and share what is plaguing your mind,” You said with a soft smile despite him not looking at you.

He groaned again before lifting his head, “I’m worried and quite honestly scared.”

Your eyes widened. Him? Scared? “About what?” You began rubbing his back comfortingly.

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the duck tighter, “That-” he swallowed, “that you’ll leave me too.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he continued, “That you’ll realize I’m not really ‘all that’. I can’t even teach you how to fly!” He curled further into himself and whispered, “Lilith left me, why wouldn’t you?”

You couldn’t stop yourself as you embraced Lucifer, your arms wrapping around his curled frame and wings, “Oh Luci- I’m never going anywhere.”

“I’m going to be here until my soul is erased from this universe, until I’m forcefully taken away, until I physically can’t anymore. I love you so much and I want to be by your side as long as you allow me to,” You held him tightly against yourself.

Lucifer was still as he processed your words, he looked up at you, his eyes glowing a bit brighter than they had been before. Tears were welling in his eyes again.

“Do-.. Do you actually mean that?” He asked hesitantly as if he didn’t actually wanna know the answer.

A sincere and warm smile spread across your face as you looked at him with soft eyes, “Of course, my dear.” You pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

His lip quivered once more before he returned your embrace, his body shaking. He buried his face in your neck, the warmth of tears flowing down you as Lucifer’s body shook.

“I- I’m –– I’m so lucky to- to have you,” He gasped in between choked sobs.

You held him tighter, your hands running gently up and down his back, “I’m very lucky to have you too. You mean so much to me. Lilith has no idea how much she messed up by leaving you.”

Logically you knew Lilith would kick your ass but God you wanted to beat the shit out of her. How could she just leave him like this? Not to mention their only child too. It’s one thing to leave a partner but your child too? The idea of her made you grit your teeth but you forced yourself to calm down. Now was not the time for anger.

Lucifer sobbed into your shirt as you held him. Eventually, his crying died down and he caught his breath. You could feel as he swallowed and shifted in your hold.

“I’m sorry for- uhm, that.” He said as he tried to wiggle out of your grasp.

“Don’t apologize, you needed that, I could tell. Not to mention, talking to people is good for you.” You looked at him, he looked both worse and better than before.

It took him a minute to respond but he eventually whispered, “Thank you.”

You planted another kiss on his head, “It’s no problem, I’ll always be right here for you.”

You looked at his wings and frowned. “You should really take better care of your wings.”

Lucifer snorted, his wings flexing slightly, “Yeah yeah, maybe I could teach you how to preen so you could do it for me.” He said it smoothly but you knew there was the added layer of intimacy that act held.

“I’d be delighted.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #reader insert #x reader #transmasc reader #no y/n #angst with a happy ending #angst

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hoe4sports · 2 months

Text

Ruesha Littlejohn | “Leave it all on the field”

A/n: No trigger warnings detected.

Ruesha had camped in my apartment for the rest of camp, and I didn’t usually mind but it was getting very depressing. She was not her usually bubbly self, and I was trying everything in my power to brighten her mood. I had told jokes, danced or jugged, sang and made food. When I woke up the last morning of camp before we headed to Australia, The land of Caitlin Foord, I decided that I needed to do something to try and bring the old Ruesha back. “Okay pretty girl” I said as I opened the blinds while she was still sleeping. “Today is the day” I said and she huffed from under the cover. It was not my dream scenario to live with her, sleep next to her and spend ever awake moment of my life next to her as her bestfriend, but life has a funny way of making things play out just as it wasn’t supposed too.

Ruesha threw her pillow at me, and I decided to change my tactics. If there was one thing she loved, then it was a good breakfast. I made sure to leave her alone in her, or rather mine, depression room as I whipped up easy breakfast. Toast, eggs, paprika and watermelon. I made sure to make her favourite kind of blueberry tea, and then I went back into the bedroom. This time, I was more settled. She was going to get up. I grabbed her covers by the corner, and yanked it off of her. “Shite, Benedicte, won’t you leave a mournin to woman rest” she hissed. “Yes, I would. But you are not a mourning woman nor do you need to rest anymore. If you rest anymore then I’m worried that you will become one with my bed.” she sighted loudly and tossed around. I walked around the bed and hunched down on her level. “Ruesh, I’ve made breakfast. Your favourite kind, I’ve even made tea. You would never let a good tea go to waste now would yah?” I said as I stroke her hair, she sniffled as she sat up. “Okay, but only because I don’t like to let a pretty woman down.” she said as she marched to the kitchen. In my house, from my bed, in my clothes. Yet somehow, all she could talk about was Katie McAss.

I sat down next to her as a i bottomed a sugar free red bull while eating a protein yogurt. “Are yah ever gonna learn to eat real foods?” Ruesha teased me, and I shrugged. “Why would I? Nobody is seeing what am shoving down my throat when I’m alone.” I said and winked. She just shook her head as she devoured the breakfast. I examined my garmin watch for a hot second only to realise that we were running late. I threw on my jersey, and Ruesha threw on hers as we panicked our way to the arena. “Jesus, if yah would’ve gotten that pretty butt up from bed the first 23 times I asked, then Maybe we wouldnt have this issue.” I said as I tied my cleats next to her. She laughed, but was quickly take back by the view of Katie. Her now ex girlfriend.

“Ruesha, stop droolin’ would you, it’s not a good look” I teased as we walked out on the field. The coach shot us a weird look, which had me confused. “Is there a reason for your shenanigans now?” she asked as she raised her brow. Me and ruesha would often do dumb stuff to lift the spirits of the group, but this time I was confused. I shot her an even more confused look, as she pointed to the number on my jersey. “Is this yet another joke about mi number?” asked as the girls earlier had teased me for my high number, asking if it was my number or the amounts of yellow cards I had. I looked at Ruesha confused, and realised that she was wearing my number 30. I looked down to see that I was wearing her number 8. “Well, I suppose yah there is only one thing left to do.” I stated as I got into a weird stance with my phone in my pocket. It was already connected to the team speaker as i was the designated DJ. I then slapped on some “Tell me ma” and did a classic Ruesha jig across the circle the team was standing in. Everyone knew Ruesha was famous for her jig, so naturally that was the easiest way to resemble her.

Everyone including Ruesha was laughing hysterically, almost practically crying. Well, everyone excluding McCabe. She looked furious, but I gave no flying fuck as I went towards her and jigged around her in a circle as she tried to stumble me. “Yah have to work harder then that” I sang as I skipped over her legs. I then giggled my way over to Ruesha as I pulled my jersey of mid jig, showcasing my visibly toned arms and six pack. I did a last high kick and spun around going out in an extravagant pose as I held the jersey out to Ruesha. She was now hysterically laughing and her eyes were watering, some of the girls were even laying on the ground laughing. “Alright alright, miss comedian over there, let’s practice now shall we.” The coach said as she too dried off her eyes after my little show.

“Yah mad woman” Ruesha stated as she was still trying to compose herself. I waited for my jersey but it became clear as day that I wasn’t going to get it anytime soon. “I know you love a good view, Ruesh.” I smirked. Instead I warmed up without my jersey as we ran across the field and did our static stretching. Eventually, I put her shirt back on as I was boiling and was not too excited to be burned by the sun. I caught Ruesha looking on more than one occasion, and honestly I didn’t mind.

As warm up was getting close to being over I could see Ruesha visibly struggling with her focus as she kept losing the ball. I went over to her as she whacked the ball in the ground. “Aye, ruesh, what did that poor ball do to you?” I exclaimed as I catched the ball before it bounced away to never land. “I can’t focus, B, I keep thinking about things I shouldnt think about, and then I drop it.” She complained as I listened carefully. “Alright” I said, “let’s try to use this to your advantage. Use all that negative energy to work your hardest. Use it to proving why you are going to be the one on the starting roster.” I said as I dropped the ball down and kicked it up high to her. “Leave it all on the field, love”. She nodded and catched the ball as she started juggling it.

“Yeees, Ruesh!!!” I cheered as she kept tapping the ball showing her incredible ability to control the ball like no other. As she dropped the ball, I nudged her. “You are totally gonna get your spot in the roster. Believe me babe.” I winked as we continued practicing.

#woso imagine #ruesha littlejohn #republic of ireland #katie mccabe

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