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#just thinking about it is making me want to sob
ambermeh · 2 days
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Tough Matt Headcannons
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just something that I was thinking about
⋆ who will kiss you sloppily while his beard is scratching your face creating a bit of friction and redness after 'you can take it though sweatheart, right?' after you nagged him about trying not to make it as obvious as you stand at the mirror touching the new redness
⋆who lets his chain dangle while fucking you in missionary because he wants to see your eyes water just that little bit as the pleasure overwhelms you 'not crying already, are you y/n?'
⋆ he taunts you all the time whether it be in public or even while you two are just watching a movie and he innocently grinds into you causing a little moan while he smirks a little
⋆will not let your hand go in any situations because he wants to be near you
⋆will leave you sobbing after only letting you ride his thigh after being in an argument you had started over nothing 'maybe you should start thinking before you opened that mouth accusing me of bullshit'
⋆ whispers how much of a good girl you are and how well you are taking him as you lay limp after the third orgasm as he chases his 'I know baby, but I swear I am nearly there and you look so good just wanna give you one last one'
⋆ but at the end of the day he will still cuddle up to you and will talk about anything and wonders how on earth someone as kind and beautiful is his girlfriend
ie tough matt is just as sweet and soppy as regular matt
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fraugwinska · 1 day
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I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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d10nyx · 2 days
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promise i'm working on content right now but here's a drabble because uhh... it came to me x
corrupt cop leon !! 18+ content
tw: non-con, lil mysogyny and filming. fem!reader
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Leon thinks you're cute. Real cute. He'd happily take you out to dinner and treat you real nice if Irons wasn't working his ass to the bone. He barely has enough time to eat or sleep as of late, let alone take the time out of his day to take a pretty girl to a fancy dinner. Not that he could afford to on his payroll, even if he wanted to. City life sure wasn't cheap, something he had to learn the hard way.
He's not a scary cop, not on the surface. He can see the way you instantly relax as you see his face after he pulls up next to you. He's still all baby-faced and bright-eyed, his gaze shining as he looks over you.
"Late night for a pretty girl like you to be out," he had said, shooting you a disarming smile. He'd gotten you to talk for a while, nodding and acting all interested until he got your guard down enough. He didn't have to sweet talk you, but he was nice enough to at least try and get the girl compliant enough to go along with him.
Didn't last long, though. You really started to kick up a fuss as he got a little too touchy with you. All girls like you were so stuck-up. How many dates did a guy have to splurge on to get into some panties? What ever happened to a good old-fashioned backseat blowie? The Internet really fucking ruined women. They all thought they were 'too good' for a quick fuck. Like that'd stop him.
He has you pushed over the hood of his car in a few seconds flat. Cop training came in handy, made him real good at restraining the pretty girls he wanted to stick his dick into. Had you cuffed with his hand cupping your mouth before you could even think about screaming, fumbling with his belt for about 30 seconds before he's hiking your skirt up and tugging your panties to the side.
He thrusts into you with one quick snap of his hips, groaning loudly as your tight heat wraps around his cock. You're not really wet, but the warmth and snugness makes up for your lack of arousal. It makes his cock twitch as you cry out into his hand, the feeling of tears gathering against the skin as they trickle down your cheeks making him grin. He always loved it when they cried, made him feel like his cock was really doing some damage.
"Can you do me a favour, sweetheart?" He murmurs, pressing wet kisses down your neck as he thrusts into you, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. Still not enough to get you dripping for him. Jeez, you were a picky one, huh? He had a pretty cock, most girls at least had the decency to get wet after a while. You're lucky you're just his type, or he would've dumped you on the side of the road by now.
"See that light right there?" He breathes out after a beat, his free hand tapping the window right where his dashboard camera sits, recording his every move. He grins against your neck, pretty blues peeking through his lashes as he stares at the camera. "Look at it for me, baby. Wanna be able to watch your pretty face on video when I fill you up."
His words seem to make you panic a little, your cunt clenching around his dick as you start to sob, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe against his palm. You're drooling all over him, and he's starting to wish he decided to fuck that pretty throat of yours rather than your cunt, cause that's the only thing on you that seems to know how to get wet. Oh, well. He's too close now to bother pulling out.
It only takes him a few more thrusts before he spills his seed deep inside of you with a whimper, his eyes squeezing shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He pulls out a minute later, tucking himself back into his pants, leaving your trembling body bent over his patrol car. Takes him a moment to catch his breath, then he unlocks your cuffs and rubs your wrists - all sweet and gentle.
"Up you get, sweetheart." He pats your ass before helping you up, straightening out your skirt with a sweet smile on his face - like his cum wasn't dripping down the inside of your thighs. He pulls out a wad of cash, stuffing it down your top just to get an excuse to peek at the tits he never got around to touching.
"Money for a taxi, cutie. There's some really nasty men lurking around this time of night."
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cw: drunk sex, car sex, casual intercourse, not proof read
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Simon - a man intimidating on several different levels - did not know how to handle a crying girl. Especially not one of your caliber, drunk, babbling to him about god knows what. All he could do was sip his shitty liquor, stare at you and your group of friends giggling behind you. And of course you just had to blurt out magic fucking words: "Do you think I'm ugly?" He took a moment, not out of hesitance, but consideration; you and your big glossy eyes, flushed face, even the messy hair somehow you-
"No." Simon's voice was a low rumble, and for a moment it comforted you, made you shut your eyes and nod for a bit. Only a bit, before you choked out another sob.
"Then why does he not wanna fuck me?" It was immature, really. Simon shouldn't enlighten your bold behavior, but he couldn't help it. You were cute. But that didn't change anything. You were still sobbing before him, rubbing your face raw of steaming hot tears and drunken frustration. Ruining your pretty face. Simon leaned back for a moment, considering your words. Whoever broke your heart was a real, damn idiot.
Sure, you were a bit whiny, annoying; but it was easily overlooked with how sweet you seemed. Maybe it was the drinks Simon had indulged in himself, because he was actually considering this.
Another choked cry from you rushed him to blurt out his next words, "I'll fuck ya."
Something about your silence said more than words did. God, forgive him for relishing in this small victory - you were a virgin. Evident by your slight hesitance in his words, the flinch, the cute quivering lip like you really wanted it. But you were scared. Smart girl, should honestly know better than to fuck this big, scary man. And still -
"Okay." You nodded, huffed. Your friends by now had wandered off to do whatever the fuck drunk gals do. Looked just about as broken up as you were. Simon chuckled a bit, pocketed his keys, wallet, and offered your hand a place in his.
It was shocking, the moment you felt the scarred callouses along his palms. It made him laugh breathily, "Like it, do ya?"
"Mhm..!" Such a puppy. You practically scooted a snuggle against his arm, wrapping around his muscles while he led you out. Didn't deserve to be fucked in a bar like a common whore; he'd give you the benefit of some privacy with his darkened windows, turn the cooler on so the heat of the moment didn't overwhelm you so much.
You were so compliant, something he'd be sure to correct if this ever went anywhere; couldn't have you seeking cock from just anyone. But Simon understood, poor thing. You needed your pussy to be filled up, and he was willing to help you out. Let you cry on his cock, tighten up just a bit as your arousal drooled down and stained his pants with your fast orgasm.
Your hands attempting to cover your face, which Simon just couldn't have. He'd correct that with a single hand, tightening your wrist in his grip and holding them behind you. His freehand guiding your hips, while he tutted praises against your breasts. Panting roughly, either he was out of shape, or you felt much better than he anticipated.
Regardless, you were reduced to nothing but a mewling bitch. Burying your face against him while be babied you with each thrust. "Poor doll, needed someone to show your place. mm?"
"Don't worry, bird, Simon's gonna make ya feel real good."
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queer-n-here · 2 days
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Hiya! Can I please request a Fyodor x m! reader? Plot? Pfft- I just wanna edge Fyodor until he turns from this confident mastermind to a smiley, pleading mess LMAO-
Bahahahaha I got you. Hope you like it!
Contents: Edging Fyodor.
Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, marking, edging.
Ugh, Fyodor.
Look at him, crying and sobbing on your bed as his fingers clutch the sheets beneath him, chest heaving with each breath as more tears fall down his face. Look at his body, pale legs trembling with exhaustion, the marks you left vivid on his thighs.
"Please..." He sobs. "F-ngh! Please, [Name]..."
Another shudder passes through his body as you thrust into him, one hand blocking his cock and the other holding his wrists above his head. You smirk.
"Please what, Fyodor?" You tilt your head, rolling your hips to hit his sweet spot, making him cry out. "What do you want, hmm?"
"Let me-hah! Lemme c-cum, ple-ugh! Please, please, [Name]!"
"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow, drinking up the sight of that mess of a man in front of you. "You wanna cum?"
He nods furiously, back arching right off the bed as you continue fucking into him, your own cock throbbing with want.
"We've... Ah! We've been doing this for ho-Mmh! Hours... [Name]..."
"Hours?" Without warning, your hips stop, and Fyodor whines.
You let go of his wrists, sitting up slightly to turn and look at the wall clock. "Ah, you're right. It has been hours. Funny, I didn't even realise it, haha."
You chuckle, and he whimpers, sniffling. "Please, [Name]..."
"Hmm... Let's see..." You lift his legs, exposing his twitching cock, tip so red it's almost purple, and stuffed hole to your eyes. "D'you think you deserve to cum, hmm?"
Fyodor nods pathetically. "I'll- I'll be good, I swear, baby, please..."
You soften at the pet name, dropping his legs back down. "Hmm... You will?"
He nods again. "I'll be obedient, I'll listen to whatever, sniff, whatever you say..."
"Mn," You let go of his cock, press his thighs up against his chest, and continue fucking him.
Released, Fyodor cums from the first thrust, white liquid splattering onto his abdomen as he cries out so loud you worry about his throat. As you fuck him through his orgasm and slow to a stop at the end of it, he looks up at you with wet eyes.
His cheeks are red and there's a coating of saliva on his lips, which have been bitten bloody and swollen. His entire neck is red, not from blushing but from your teeth biting. His chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath.
Leaning down, you pepper chaste kisses on his face, ignoring the sheen of sweat all over him. "You okay, baby?"
He nods, slightly dazed.
"... I love you."
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 days
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Hey and how about this... That Chūya gives the reader a blowjob for the first time while he praises him 😮
Hey…how about I steal your brain for that sweet idea. But sorry if it’s a little short
Dom!reader x sub!chuuya
Warning: blowjob, praise kink, i use dick, read it however you want
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“Good boy,” you showed him an approving smirk, hands wandering down to caress his cheeks. His soft skin was heating up at your touch, eyes melting as a smitten expression spread across his features. Lips spread and tongue stuck out, licking your shaft carefully. With a gentle pinch, you brought him out of his trance, making him nudge his head a little. He furrowed his brows, still trying to pleasure you. Then you dismissed him and said, “that’s enough, time for something else.”
Once again his cheeks darkened, his eyes widened a little too. The hesitation was basically written all over his face as he wrapped his hands around your length, still deciding to give you kitten licks first. His wet muscle brushed around the tip, not sure if what he was doing was correct. Suddenly he turned his head to the side, covering his face with his hands and taking a moment to calm down. To think he’d be this embarrassed, how cute.
Your hand reached out for him for a second time, but this time you settled for his red locks. Fumbling with his hair as well as gently scraping his scalp. The gaze you wore was filled with patience and affection, whispering softly, “take your time, chuuya.” Now his heart won’t calm down, drumming inside him as if it was playing a special rhythm for you. After a while, he took your tip inside his mouth, wrapping those pretty lips around you. “Good job, use your tongue and avoid teeth, alright?”
He tried, he didn’t want to displease you. All he wanted was to make you feel good and proud. You watched his eyes start to get watery with every inch he takes, until his nose hit your pelvis. The sight was so beautiful, how the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, how he looked up at you through strains of hair, and how good he looked choking on your cock. His cheeks tightened, and he sucked viciously, all while trying to use his tongue for anything good.
“Haha~” you laughed a little, at how hopeless pathetic but adorable he was. Chuuya was a little offended by that and started bobbing his head back and forth, slowly though to not gag. The hand in his hair was still stroking him, the look in your eyes unchanging as you looked down at him. God, he felt so small in this position, kneeling beneath you like this. While he lost himself in your eyes, he accidentally took your dick too fast and started coughing. The poor boy immediately tried to pulled back, but you stopped him, shushing him and saying, “shhh, try to calm your breathing. Just like that.. so good for me.”
It took a while, but he eventually came down. Now sobbing quietly as his hair stuck to his forehead. “Such a pretty boy, you did a good job for your first time, sweetie.” How he loved to hear your praise, that alone was enough to keep him motivated. Resuming to his previous movements, he continued to use his tongue to roll it around the tip. Drool hung out of his lips, a blissful expression on his face. The bulge in his own pants grew, and now the spot got darker, obviously wet now. You adored him so much, he was getting this aroused just by sucking you off? Too adorable. He looked so beautiful that you just had to praise him again, fawning over him as you said, “you look so stunning right now. Simply gorgeous.”
His entire body shuddered at your words, hands bawled into fists and knuckles turning white. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his eyes rolling back and lips trembled around your dick. Shoulders were also raised to his ears, thighs clenched shut in a tight manner. Then, when he opened them again, you couldn’t hide the grin on your face. “Chuuya, you really just came now? Just how adorable do you want to be?”
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@nvllxiety
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elllisaaa · 3 days
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imagine sub jungwon tied up and the reader playing with his body, riding him till he comes again n again. his body writhing and jerking off uncontrollably due to the excessive overstimulation, tears spilling from his eyes as he cries at the intense rush of pleasure. mewling tiredly when u force the last orgasm from his body...
(u can ignore this if ur not comfy)
SUB!JUNGWON who knows that whenever he comes home tired and stressed as hell, he can count on you to treat him well and take care of him so that he can let out all the pressure.
you often start by massaging his spent body, asking him to tell you about his day and let out his frustration with words first. then, you carefully kiss every exposed part of his skin, and each time your lips are touching him, a satisfied sigh escapes him. you praise him for doing so good, and you even let him touch your body too before you tie him up to the bed because it's the only way for jungwon to completely let go.
and then, the real fun starts. your favourite way to get jungwon in the mood is to make out with him first. that always gets him rock hard and by the time you separate and you start stroking his dick in your hand, he's already so turned on that he comes very quickly. "'m sorry, just feels too good." but you just smile at him, kissing his cheek when you take his cock in your hand again. "don't worry baby, you know i'm just starting right ?"
you always make him cum one or two times with your hand or mouth, and let the sticky substance gather on his abdomen. when you have enough of playing with him like that, you dip your finger in the little pool of cum and bring them to his lips. and jungwon always obeys like a good boy by licking them clean. "you're doing so good for me baby, i think you earned my pussy, don't you ?" - "yes, please ! i need you…"
when you sink down on his already swollen member, his hips jerk up on their own, forcing you to pin them to the mattress so you can have your fun. jungwon is always extra sensitive when you ride him, because the sinful sight of your pretty body milking him dry is too tempting to resist the intense pleasure running in his veins. "please, please… i-i can't take it anymore…" but you still bounce on his cock, relishing in his loud whines and whimpers, in the way his fists are clenched around the ropes tying him up, in the way tears are spilling out from his eyes. "i know you can won, you want to be my good boy right ? so you can give me a last one, yeah ?" he nods his head as best as he can, his mind so far away he feels like he could pass out.
the last orgasm you pull out of him is always the most intense, making him cry out and sob uncontrollably due to the overstimulation, but it's always this last rush that makes him feel completely satisfied. "you did so good for me baby, i love you so much." - "love you too y/n, you're the best."
the aftercare after you untie his hand is the sweetest thing ever, and that's also the part that both of you prefer.
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wosoxwriterrr · 2 days
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awfc x teen reader
request: Travelling on the team bus to Manchester, R starts to feel really ill and the team take care of her.
a/n- i’m aware my fics are pretty short atm but bare with me :) requests are open!!
485 words———
Travel sickness was your worst nightmare, comes at the most inconvenient times ever! Today travelling up to Manchester you knew it would be bad. “You okay kid?” Kim asks as you sit on the coach next to Kyra, eyes closed and headphones on. “Not feeling too good” you’re able to whisper back before a wave of nausea hit you. Before you are able to warn anyone, your lunch was splattered all over the table as tears start streaming down your face, a mixture of embarrassment and sickness. The bus stopped at the next service stop and you were escorted off the bus by a comforting Stina. “Oh sweetheart it’s okay don’t cry” she says while you’re sobbing into your puke covered arsenal hoodie. The bus was cleaned up while you and Stina were in the petrol station bathroom getting cleaned up. The bus was then stocked up with a few emesis bags just incase. After you get all cleaned up you walk back onto the bus quietly, embarrassment taking over you. The embarrassment was quickly wiped from you as all the girls assured you that it’s okay and it happens to the best of us. The bus got back on the road, now sat with Kim, Leah, and Steph as they all wanted to make sure you were looked after. After a good 2 hours of playing uno and looking at photos of Calvin, you started feeling sick again but luckily were able to warn people. “Gonna puke” Kim hurriedly grabbed an emesis bag from her backpack parked at her feet and shoved it into your hands just in time for you to lose the contents of your stomach. Nobody said a word hoping to make the situation a lot less embarrassing for you which you were thankful for. The bag was disposed of and the game of uno was resumed. As the team bus arrived in Manchester ahead of kick off you started to feel that uneasy feeling in your stomach and you knew that you were about to puke. Not wanting to puke in the aisle of the seats you quickly rushed off the bus and swiftly lurched forward in order to empty your stomach. Gasps and shrieks were heard coming from the massive crowd of fans waiting on the teams arrivals which made you want to curl up in a hole and die. Leah was at your side so fast trying to escort you swiftly into the changing room so you can get away from the fans. “Oh kid i don’t think you should be playing today, you’re not going to have any energy on the field” Kim says with a sympathetic look on her face. “Yeah, don’t feel good” you said in a whispered tone not being able to muster up the energy to speak. It’s safe to say you didn’t play against city and slept the whole bus journey home.
(pretend you are katie) 🤍
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kyracooneyx- liked by leahwilliamsonn and 57,970 others
stinablackstenius- got the kid to sleep
^ kyracooneyx- better pay me for babysitting
user1- did anyone see y/n when she got off the bus? gross 🤮
kimlittle1990- poor kid
leahwilliamsonn- never knew someone could be so sick and still beat everyone at uno 🙄
^ yourusername- you’re just jealous 😒
user2- nice photo 😍😍😍😍😍😍
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toulousewayne · 2 days
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Daily Batfam Shenanigans Pt:5
————
Damian:Grayson?
Dick looks over from his spot watching TV and eating Coco Puffs.
Dick:Yes Little Dee?
Damian:You are very aware of my experience with animals.
Dick: Very much so, yes.
Damian:Why does father seem so interested about give me Birds and bees.
Dick laughs for a bit.
Dick: No kiddo, he talking about…the reproductive health.
Damian:…Sex? I know what sex is Grayson Mother gave me this with topic with a diagram and you and the alien are never quiet when I stay at the tower. So I do not see the need for such time constraints.
Dick:…
—————
Jason is in the cave help Tim with his wound care when he notices a large scar on Tim.
Jason: Where’d you get this from Replacement, falling off the handlebars of your bike again?
Tim (Drowsy from medicine ): Oh that, no Ra took my spleen.
Jason:…..The fuck you just say Tim?
——
Oracle is in the ClockTower and is on Coms with Robin who’s patrolling the East end.
Robin: Oracle?
Oracle: Yes, Robin?
Robin:Father, had the talk with me earlier.
Oracle:And how’d that go?
Robin:I think Father needs to take a course on giving the talk he isn’t very good at it.
Oracle (Chuckling): Why do you think that?
Robin: He kept trying to explain anatomy but he didn’t understand women’s. He said I should ask a woman.
Oracle loosing it on the other line.
Robin:Is it that complex?
Oracle gaining her composure: Oh, kiddo you right your father needs help.
Robin: So will you explain—
Oracle: Absolutely not.
————
Duke:Is this safe?
Jason:Most likely not.
Duke:Should we tell someone?
Jason:Probably.
Duke:Are you going to?
Jason: Nope
Alfred in the next room: Whatever you two are about to do, save yourselves the trouble.
—————
Kate: And how did you convince him to do it?
Stephanie & Dick: Bribes
Kate: Okay, so what exactly did you two bribe him with?
Dick(Smirking): That’s highly useful and top secret information.
Jason enters the room in a fuzzy red sweater and approaches Bruce who’s reading a book.
Bruce (Confused): Everything okay Jay?
Jason give Bruce a hug and quickly leaves the the room.
Stephanie (Sobbing): You got the tissues?
Dick hands her a box and dries his own tears.
Kate walking away: This family needs therapy.
————
Damian:……
Tim:Why are you staring at me?
Damian:………
Tim:Did I do something to you,or are you trying out to be one of the twins from the Shining?
Damian:I need you to take me and Jon to see a movie Saturday night.
Tim:You couldn’t have lead with that?!
—————
Barbara: Go Left
Batman & Nightwing go Right
Barbara: No your other left.
Nightwing:That’s the right?
Barbara trying not to scream and rip her hair out.
Barbara: This Family Makes me want to murder people.
Batman: Are we in Pursuit of Riddler Now?
*Oracle Disconnects*
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ofallthingsnasty · 2 days
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tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k
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One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)
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To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.
Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?
Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time.  What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.
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girlsdads · 3 days
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couldn’t be normal about that second gif
cw: watersports, consensual somnophilia (adjacent?). max has a pussy also because i said
Max wakes with his thighs parted around Daniel’s head, one tanned hand gripping the meat of his left buttcheek, the other heavy against his lower belly. Max groans as he feels his bladder throb underneath Daniel’s palm, the pressure that’s clear in its meaning. Daniel’s tongue works Max’s clit in gentle strokes, moving downward, coaxing.
The first time he’d woken like this, Max had instinctively tried to wiggle away, the indulgent thrill of having Daniel’s mouth on him overpowered by the horror of realizing he was seconds away from taking his morning piss right down Daniel’s throat. But Daniel had yanked him tight against his face and—whined—like that’s exactly what he’d wanted, and Max had been so absolutely floored that he’d forgotten to be self-conscious when the first stream splashed onto Daniel’s tongue.
Now, heady as he always is with the knowledge that Daniel fucking loves this, Max relaxes into the nest of blankets surrounding him and lets go.
The relief is instant and it makes Max sigh, going boneless where Daniel is holding his pelvis slightly propped, angled so that piss sprays the roof of Daniel’s mouth. Daniel makes a noise like he’s been struck, seals his lips over Max and just keeps him there, letting Max go. He’s not swallowing, allowing it to pool in his mouth before Max feels him open his jaw to send warm urine spilling down his chin and to the sheets and under Max’s butt. They are so reckless to do this, Max always thinks later, when they are stripping the bed and inspecting the mattress damage, but then—why would Max worry about things when he gets to use Daniel like this?
Max threads his fingers through Daniel’s sweaty curls, yanks his head up so he can watch his piss as it trickles down Daniel’s flushed cheeks and into his mustache. His bottom lip is slack and dribbling. The stream is wetting the curls by his ears. His hips are starting to hump the mattress. He looks dazed and stupid and stunning. Max loves him.
Max lets Daniel get his mouth back against him as he arches and pushes out the last few spurts. As soon as he’s done he feels himself open around Daniel’s hot tongue. A moan escapes him, Daniel tonguing hungrily into the wet clench of his cunt, urine soaked nose rubbing against his swollen clit. He uses both hands to cup the back of Daniel’s skull and holds him there, hips working until he’s shaking through an orgasm that leaves Daniel’s face slippery with him.
“Maxy,” Daniel gasps, sliding up to position the head of his cock against where Max is soaked and quivering, “can I—fuck—please, let me…”
Max locks his legs around Daniel’s hips and nudges him forward so that his fat tip stretches Max, makes him ache in that way he likes best. It is always best when Daniel is in him, when Max’s body opens for him like it is meant for nothing else.
“You can, Daniel. I want it.” Always wants it. Every time they do this.
Daniel sobs and his arms quake where they’re bracketing Max’s head. His cock kicks where it’s only in Max just a little—Max feels the thick blurt of come against his walls, giving way to a hot jet of piss as Daniel sighs and melts. Max relaxes wholly under Daniel’s comforting weight. Daniel empties himself fully into Max and when his cock goes soft Max clenches as tight as he can. Only a little dribbles out as Daniel leaves him and Daniel whispers that’s perfect, honey. Max feels perfect.
Daniel flops down beside him and smiles dopily, hand coming to rest on Max’s lower belly, ever so slightly swollen. Max laces their fingers together and holds them there, where he’s warm and full with Daniel.
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ladykailitha · 7 hours
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How I would do a sugar daddy/sugar baby AU. (I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me *side eyes the omegaverse*)
I've seen this well done in this fandom, I'm not saying I haven't, but of the ones I've seen they tend to be omegaverse or mafia/shady sugar daddy.
And I want thirty year old rockstar!Eddie with twink Steve. I said what I said. I think we forget that for the most part Steve isn't beefy. When he's "bulked" up, it's his clothing (Eddie's vest) or its his thighs that are "thicc". But Steve (Joe Kerry in particular out of the role) is thin.
So we have rockstar!Eddie with Corroded Coffin touring the country and doing a couple of dive bars because that's where they got their start and hitting up The Hideout, because again that's where they got their start.
Steve, who recently got kicked out of his parents house because he came out with liking men (gay, pan, bi don't care) and lost his job because again with the liking men thing (small town homophobia for the loss!)
So with his last twenty dollars, he decides to hit up on the local bar and drink away his troubles and maybe even get laid for a warm place to sleep tonight.
He gets dressed in his sluttiest clothes. Crop top, cut off booty shorts, sparkly blue sneaks.
Only he shows up on the night that Corroded Coffin is playing. After paying what he thought was a stiff cover charge (was actually a ticket to see the show) he gets in. He has less money than he hoped but he can only hope that someone is willing to buy him drinks.
He settles in next to the bar and realizes his mistake. The rest of the patrons are dressed in metal gear. Leather, black denim, and lots of chains. Steve doesn't just stick out, he sticks out like a prep in a metal concert.
But he can't afford to go anywhere else, and hopes he doesn't get too harassed tonight. So he keeps he head down and hopes of the best.
Only what he doesn't know is that he has caught the eye of the frontman and lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie Munson. The fact that Steve stands out isn't a detriment, it's a perk.
He wants to find out everything about this boy who stumbled into his enclosure.
The rest of the band is rolling their eyes.
Eddie sends out one of the PAs to make sure that all of Steve's drinks go on Eddie's tab and spends the whole concert watching this guy.
After the concert Eddie sidles up to him and they get to talking. Immediately he picks up that Steve is not old enough to be there. So now he's worried he's under age.
They head out for a smoke and Steve admits that he's not twenty-five like the fake ID says, but nineteen. He shows Eddie his real ID as proof and Eddie is relieved.
They start making out and Eddie takes him to his hotel room to have sex.
In the morning, Eddie asks if he can take him home and Steve starts sobbing. He tells him about his shitty day with shitty parents and shitty boss.
And Eddie's bleeding heart immediately goes out to him and tells him to stay at the hotel for as long as he needs, order room service. Just no booze.
Steve pouts at that but agrees. That as long he stays at the hotel he won't buy booze on Eddie's dime.
Eddie gives Steve his phone number if he needs anything. He transfers the hotel room over to Steve's name, gives him a sultry kiss goodbye and leaves to finish his tour.
Steve doesn't have anywhere else to go and is not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he stays at the hotel. He gets to spend time in the luxurious bathroom with it's fancy shampoos and conditioners and hot tub like bath.
He finds that Eddie keeps sending him clothes and jewelry and suddenly the rich life style that he had with his parents pales in comparison to the extravagant lifestyle Eddie is providing for him.
Through all this Steve is still looking for a job as he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. But news hadn't gotten around town that he was gay and even people he thought he could trust are telling him that they can't hire him.
Eventually he gives up. He talks to Eddie all the time and whenever he feels discouraged Eddie will send him something pretty to cheer him up.
Finally Steve catches the fairy that had been leaving things in his hotel room when he's in the shower or out on the town.
Her name is Robin Buckley and she's a summer intern. Her uncle knew a guy who knew a guy that got her the job. She actually loves it, but she has one more year of high school and her parents won't let her drop out to be a PA for a rockstar.
They're concerned that he'll take advantage of her. Robin thinks it's funny because she's gay. Steve thinks it's funny because Eddie's gay and not into under eighteen year olds.
He tells her his story and over the summer they become best friends. Robin had heard that the Harrington boy had run off so imagine her surprise when Eddie's management had her deliver things to his hotel room. Staying in a hotel room in Hawkins is hardly running away.
Eddie comes back and just continues to throw money and gifts at Steve but doesn't ask for sex again. It's not until Steve tells him that he didn't fuck Eddie for his money or even for a warm bed at that point when he went back to the hotel with him, it was because Eddie cared. And god was that sexy as hell.
When Robin graduates Eddie hires her to be Steve's PA and the pair of them get to travel the world with the band as besties.
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thefrogdalorian · 2 days
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Downpour
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Summary: Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.
Word Count: 1k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: One suggestive line, Din having nightmares mentioned ✯ Author's Note: I miss the Razor Crest but daydreaming about domestic fluff in the cabin on Nevarro scratches an itch in my brain in all the best ways. I really want to cuddle with Din Djarin during a rainstorm. Is it too much to ask?! Thanks to @decembermidnight for betaing this one for me!! 🩷
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
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The roof of the cabin on Nevarro has never felt like the most sturdy part of the modest-sized dwelling you share with your riduur. Especially not in the middle of an unseasonably fierce rainstorm, the severity of which has you groggily blinking awake in the pitch blackness. 
Your immediate concern is for the mischievous child you tucked in just across the hallway shortly after sunset. You hope that the rain has not disturbed him and that he remains bundled in blankets, surrounded in his crib by the mountain of plushies which have been either bought for him by you and Din or gifted to him by the various people throughout the galaxy who cannot resist how charming he is. 
Mercifully, your sensitive ears do not detect any wails. So, with Grogu seemingly still sleeping soundly, you turn your attention to his father. When you do not hear Din’s soft snores beside you, you vocalise your concern.
“Din, are you awake?” you mumble without turning around to face him.
Din shuffles towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. With a wordless response, he squeezes you tightly. You realise that Din is drawing comfort from your presence. Your heart grows heavy as you realise he must be alarmed by the rainstorm.
“Are you scared of the rain, my big scary Mandalorian?” you question. It is an attempt to lighten the mood, without fussing over him too much. You know how much such playful teasing gets underneath his skin.
“I’m not scared,” Din huffs.
You turn over, raising your eyebrows at him questioningly.
In the darkness, you can barely make out his handsome features. There is a soft light from the hallway, and you can faintly see his brown eyes sparkling slightly, even in the low light.
The lack of light is not an issue. You have mapped every inch of Din's face with your fingers and lips well enough to know that he will be furrowing his brow at you, exposing the wrinkle above the bridge of his nose that you love to gently trace with your fingertips whenever it becomes pronounced in times of stress. 
You reach up to touch the lines of his face, as though you can ease all of his worries with just your touch, “What would all those bounties you once collected think if they could see you now?” you muse.
Din guffaws.
“Imagine if everyone you struck fear into the hearts of with merely your presence could see you now? Maybe they would feel silly for ever being so scared of a man who is scared of a little rainstorm…”
“Riduur…” Din warns, voice deep and firm.
He can excuse the teasing about the past. You have held him through enough bouts of sobbing in this very bunk after the visions which haunt him in slumber have torn him from sleep to earn the privilege of lightly teasing him. When nightmarish sights of his past sins overwhelmed him, you were always there, dutifully picking up his pieces. 
But Din Djarin will never accept a charge of cowardice. 
You know he is not seriously scared. Din is no coward. And he knows that you would never seriously lay such a charge at his door. 
“You know I’m only teasing you, handsome,” you say with a wink you hope he can see.
You realise that Din has never lived somewhere for long enough to hear the rain pattering on the roof. His covert cloistered in the caves of Concordia. The Razor Crest was home but never docked in one place long enough for it to truly function as such. 
The fact that until now, Din has been denied the simple pleasure of listening to a rainstorm in the arms of one you love is yet another detail of his life which brings you anguish. 
“I think it’s very sweet, actually," you whisper, hoping he knows you meant no malice, "It's our first proper rainstorm in this cabin," you add, ensuring that he knows you understand this is new for him.
Despite how much Din's past makes your heart ache, you will not wallow in pity for him. Instead, it strengthens your resolve to make sure Din is loved every moment of the eternity he has vowed to spend with you. 
You lean in for a gentle kiss, “Roll over and let me hold you, my love,” you whisper against his plush lips.
Din sighs and then leans in to kiss you again before he complies. A touch so slow and sweet, so different to the frenzied way his lips claimed yours hours before. Satisfied, he agrees to your proposal, flipping over with a grunt.
You position yourself so your chest is flush with his firm back, placing a kiss on the centre of his back, between his broad shoulders. Din sighs in contentment. You smile, relieved you can comfort him like this. It is a privilege unique to you out of everyone in the galaxy.
You slip your hands underneath the soft cotton shirt he wears to bed and absentmindedly trace circles onto the warm expanse of his stomach. His body is firm beneath your fingers thanks to his muscular physique; but there is a hint of softness there, which increases each year as he ages. 
You do not mind one bit. It only makes his body better suited to cuddles.
This warrior who once terrified everyone is now a little softer at the edges, his toughness gradually eroded by the love he feels for his son and you, his riduur.
"Thank you," Din sleepily mumbles before he drifts off again, no longer disturbed by the thudding of the rain against the roof.
Fierce independence borne out of trauma had meant that Din had never previously known the simple pleasure of listening to rainfall pattering against the roof. It was a new reverberation, one initially alien and alarming to his highly attuned senses. 
Fortunately, Din was not afraid for long. Now, he has you to hold him through the storm. There is no more fear or anxiety as he cuddles with you, his riduur, while the sound continues outside.
You whisper, "I love you, Din," before sleep's comforting embrace takes you too and you join Din somewhere peaceful. Far away from the downpour.
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utilitycaster · 23 hours
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Bonus:
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Campaign 2 episode 92/Campaign 3 episode 92 parallels (with some assistance from 3x89)
Transcription of the text in the above images (screenshots from the Critical Role Transcript Search) below the cut:
The following is excerpts from Campaign 2, Episode 92, and Campaign 3 Episode 92 (except one from 89, noted below), interspersed. Travis is playing Fjord, Marisha is playing Beau, Laura is playing Imogen, Liam is playing Orym, and Matt plays Thoreau Lionett in the Campaign 2 excerpt and Liliana Temult in the Campaign 3 excerpt:
First image:
TRAVIS: Your histamine reactions are going again.
MARISHA: Yeah. I've been away from Zadash for a little bit, so the pollen, it's kicking a little, you know?
TRAVIS: I take it you don't fully, fully hate your dad. It's got to be hard to hear this.
Second image:
LAURA: I'm going to heard toward Orym who's at a distance and approach slowly.
LIAM: Hey.
LAURA: Hi. I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder.
LIAM: Sorry, I know how hard all that is for you.
Third image:
MARISHA: Everyone wants to make their dad proud, you know? Just hoping he could, he could show some of that.
TRAVIS: You don't know that he can't. It's been years. You've grown, you've changed. I'm sure you were even more of an unbearable shit before. I'm not saying he deserves a second chance, but he is your father, and you do have a mother, and a brother that you've never met.
MARISHA: (sniffs) I guess it's hard when... the word inevitable has been brought up several times in the past 24 hours amongst us. I feel like I've found my family with The Mighty Nein. I don't like looking at my past, because it doesn't have The Mighty Nein in it, and I think I put off the inevitable, because I'm going to-- I'm afraid it's going to be like my past.
Fourth image:
LAURA: Don't apologize. I can't begin to understand how hard it is for you.
LIAM: You know, every one of us makes our decisions with the lenses or prisms we see life through.
LAURA: Mm-hmm.
LIAM: I can't take mine down. (sobs softly) It's not even about revenge for me. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do.
LAURA: I didn't know them, but I can't imagine they wouldn't look at you and not be proud.
LIAM: (sighs sadly)
LAURA: I think you've gone farther than anyone could ever expect you to, and you're still going.
Fifth image:
TRAVIS: I don't think one contaminates the other. You've got good, solid footing here. I mean, shit, if we want to run, we run. If we want to kick his ass, we'll kick his ass.
MARISHA: Yeah. (sniffing) I kind of want to kick his ass, and I don't want to run.
TRAVIS: Could I ask you, in your wildest dreams, and feel free to say you don't want to tell me, what would you have happen when we go there?
MARISHA: I think I've worked so hard because I scripted this day, in my inevitable future that I would go back to him, successful woman, respectable member of society, Cobalt Soul, an Expositor, the thing he threw me away to, and I embraced. And then, I would get mad at myself, because I felt like I was doing exactly what he was doing to me my entire life, scripting me to be something else. And I'm still doing it. I haven't seen him in three years, and I'm still trying to be... something. And I think what's scary is that I like this, and what I've found, and I don't think it was until Nott started talking about having to go home and go away that it truly started terrifying me. Because for the first time, I'm happy. And what if that goes away?
Sixth image:
LIAM: (sighs softly) (sniffles) So far. I'm going to miss him.
LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.
LIAM: I'm going to miss Letters.
(sniffles)
LAURA: They were-- They were alive.
LIAM: Out of any of us, he just wanted to help.
Seventh image:
TRAVIS: It could always go away. It could go away tonight. The Gentleman's debtors could come calling.
MARISHA: (chuckling) And I think I know that, and I think I say things to Nott like, "You don't have to put those stipulations on yourself" because I've convinced myself that destiny or the inevitability won't come knocking. If you ignore it, it won't exist, and that's not true.
TRAVIS: (sighs) It'll be interesting either way. Your face is leaking.
MARISHA: I hate it.
TRAVIS: I won't tell anyone.
MARISHA: Don't tell anybody.
TRAVIS: Yep. You're a good friend. You're a good trainer.
Eighth image:
LAURA: I want you to know that that for a while it may have felt that you and I were not seeing eye to eye or maybe you felt that I, I didn't have the same goal in mind that you did. But don't worry about that anymore, all right?
LIAM: I understand family.
LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.
LIAM: I want for all the world for you to have your family.
LAURA: I wanted that, too, and (chuckles) god, that back and forth is a pretty funny thing, but choices were made. If nothing else, then at least we've got a little bit of knowledge on the inside now.
LIAM: Yeah. As much we'd like to, you can't turn back the clock.
LAURA: That's right. But you've got us.
Bonus image 1:
MARISHA: Mom already fucking mentioned that life gets difficult and it's hard. So you're right. Maybe it's easy to justify the easy way out, just get rid of the problem.
MATT: "That's not what this was about. You were on the self-destructive path. We didn't know what to do. I've never been a-- no one teaches you how to be a good father. I regret choices I've made, and you don't think I don't hold myself responsible for-- I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly."
MARISHA: You did. It was probably the best thing you could've done for me. So thank you. Tell me the story again, and then I'll go.
Bonus image 2 (from 3x89):
MATT: "History is filled with evil men. But few have the courage to stand up and try and stop them. Where I'm standing, I don't think we're on the opposing sides like you think we are. We just have a different myth, that's all. That's all. Please see it in yourself to understand why I've done and given up all of this."
LAURA: Maybe it's your turn to run. And I wake up.
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hotchfiles · 2 days
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whole fic was chef’s kiss but that arguing part?? 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻
there’s something wrong with me bc i’m currently thinking about what if reader slapped him and then she flinched bc she thought he was gonna slap her..ofc then he goes profiler mode and figures you were either in abusive relationship and/or had abusing father
i'm actually so happy for the comments on the arguing part! i'm an angsty bitch thru n thru so i love writing arguments! this inspired me to write a lil blurb! sort of an au / different ending, so here ya go!
it was an automatic reaction, something the years with your father and then your ex taught you:
violence.
you worked hard to keep those instincts at bay, to not be this person, to remind yourself of what the years of therapy taught you. but having aaron say purposefully hurtful things to you triggered the worst part of you, your hand going straight to his cheek in a smack.
as soon as you heard the sharp sound of your hand against his face you flinched, gluing your hands on your chest and turning your own face around, ready for the payback to come.
it didn't.
instead, you were met with arms around you, strong and tight, it makes you cry, "i'm sorry i made you feel like this." his soft low voice makes your tears get bigger, your sobs louder.
it's heartwarming and dangerous how he just knows things. how he seems to be sure that you did mean to hurt him, but that it was a part of you that you wanted gone.
you nod into his shirt, tears leaving wet spots on it, "i shouldn't have done that, aaron, i'm sorry, i... i really am."
"it wasn't fun for me, but i would never hurt you, okay? no matter what you do." the reassurance gives you a mix of feelings, you're glad he understands but the guilt of leaving his cheek so red is still there, gnawing at your heart. "honey?" you just nod, not moving away from the comfort of his chest, "don't kick me out and we can just forget this whole thing." he's half joking but it makes you laugh, quietly so, but still, and he's oh, so happy to hear it.
"fine, you get away with it this one time." it's his time to nod, a smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.
"just this once."
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holly-opal · 2 days
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Hello...I wanted to make a request that I don't know if it's something personal and I understand that you don't want to do it...but you could do a mr puzzle x helping a reader who suffers from hypersexuality... I will understand that if it may seem uncomfortable to you I won't force you to do it, I just want to feel comfortable with my favorite character
Of course, I am sorry if I do this wrong. I have never written hypersexuality before, so forgive me if I do this wrong.
Tw: Mildly sexual content. Implied SA.
You were walking to your dressing room when Mr. Puzzles went up to you, he put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a warm smile, he asked if you could see him in his office later today, he wanted to talk about something. You blushed and nodded, you have always liked Mr. Puzzles, you found him charming and quite the lovely person to be around, and he was very attractive for a man with a TV for a head, then your mind began to wander and you thought about the two of you together, in your bed hugging and kissing each other, and you two taking your clothes off.... You were doing that again. Thinking sexually about someone or wanting to do sexual things with someone. You felt disgusted with yourself, and thought that Mr. Puzzles wouldn't like that either. He'd probably tell you to piss off, like everyone else you had sexual encounters with. You followed him into his office and sat down in front of him, he offered you a cigarette, you declined. You were never one for smoking, your ex did though, and he was the one who hurt you. Made you do awful things with him. Harmed you in bed. You felt so gross for doing, and even more disgusted with yourself when you actually sorta liked it. He shrugged and blew some smoke, he seemed tense. "I'm going to get real with you, Y/N. I am not very happy with ratings. I am working so hard and yet I'm not getting good results. And production is going up in flames. Ugh..." Mr. Puzzles smoked some more, he was stressed, you had an idea on how to release it though. You got up from your chair and sat on his lap, he started blush and stare at you in surprise, you began to praise him for his good work and rubbed your hands on his chest.
Mr. Puzzles was touched by this, his face was beet red and he was starting to like it. But he see that you weren't doing this out of your own volition, he could tell that you weren't happy about this. He grabbed your wrists and put them away, you were afraid now, you didn't know what came over you, you expected him to get mad at you or throw you off of him or hit you. He didn't though, he picked up you and set you down on your feet. He sighed and kneeled down to your level, you began to tear up and look away from his gaze. He had seen this kind of behavior before, in television and in his actors. He gave you a very big hug, you started to cry and hugged him back. Those thoughts in your head were killing you. 'Your disgusting', 'nobody will love you if you keep doing that', 'your just like your ex, only worse'. You've heard these words before, but still, it kept repeating in your head multiple times. You were sobbing into Puzzle's shoulder, leaving a wet spot of where your tears went. Mr. Puzzles pulled away from the hug, ye was smiling at you, and he was patting you in the back.
"Mi amor, I know that you are hurting, but this isn't the right way to go. You don't have to give yourself to me so that I could feel better. I am not mad, but we need to work on your issues." You nodded, wiping away some tears with your sleeves. Mr. Puzzles grabbed a box of tissues and handed some to you, you blew your nose and threw it away. He stood up and held out his hand. "How about this? We'll both talk about safe outlets for your behavior, that way you won't get hurt by anyone. And then afterwards, we can go to dinner. How does that sound?" Mr. Puzzles asked. You smiled and nodded, you clearly needed to work through your issues, a nice talk and maybe even a therapist will help. You took his hand and you both walked out of his office, you felt relieved in a way. He did not judge you, and he even offered to help you, many would've just left you immediately. Your love for him deepened, and his love for you has not changed, you were still his little star.
(Again, I am sorry if I did this wrong. I hope this brings comfort to you, my friend.)
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