Tumgik
#like! i escaped! i fucking escaped and got out and im free and . i am Choosing to go back now. why the fuck am i doing that
aaaaaaaaagenloser · 5 months
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(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)
An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.
Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead
TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED
“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”
“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”
“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”
“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”
“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”
“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“
“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”
“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”
“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”
“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“
“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“
“Shut up, Sneeg—“
“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“
Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.
“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”
“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”
“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”
“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”
“We will be there.”
“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”
“Sneeg!”
“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”
“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”
Silence lingered for a bit too long.
“We should what, Ran?”
“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
The Taken didn’t reply.
“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”
“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”
“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”
“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.
“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”
“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”
“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“
“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”
“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.
…okay, Sneeg?”
“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”
“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“
“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”
“Guys?”
A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’
“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”
“We weren’t fighting, we were…”
“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”
“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.
“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”
“Have fun”
“Absolutely not.”
Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.
Which left Ran by themselves.
Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.
…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.
He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.
They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.
But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.
Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)
C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.
The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.
“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”
The mask didn’t speak.
“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”
“I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“Fuck it, can I stay here?”
The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.
“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”
Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”
Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.
“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”
Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”
The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.
Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.
Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.
…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.
It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…
It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.
.
Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh
And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed
Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.
If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out
I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)
#five the genloss blorbo#let’s not talk about how many tries it took me to spell unobserved. let’s simplynot#update like 5 years into me writing this: i also cannot spell the word peepohe it would seem#that. that was meant to be the word People. you can see m#h my point stands#it is late as fuck yet I Have to make this. it has to exist so I must make it exist#I’m hamilton writing like I’m running out of time but I’m writing g#writing 51 essays in which assorted characters get the physical and/or emotional shit beaten out of them#and me running out of time is running out of sleepy. I am a sleep y man#take a break and get away says my pillow. I am Hamilton my pillow is upstate and this goddam mess of a short story I am trying to write is M#this story is Mariah Reyndolds leading me to her bed .#I haven’t slept in a while and I’m hyperfixationed on Hamilton so that metaphor makes. 0 sense#if you’re reading this far I’m so sorry. have a cookie! and fun fact an old lady held my hand and s#she said my (Very Androgynous!!) haircut is perfect. she used those words#i almost cried right then and there. genuine compliments from people make my fucking day . ok I need to go back to editing thisthing now#I wrote it. changed a plot point. started to rewrite it. changed ANOTHER plot point#so now I’ve got several s#several layers of Oh Shit I have to untangle#im. making my own goddam escape au apparently????? it won’t make any fucking sense but I will explain it later.#and! feel free to ask questions!’ and tell me if it make’s absolutely 0 sense#I do in fact want to be able to tell the story in a way you will understand. so ask questions! give a feedback! /gen /pos#I accidentally. deleted a tag so whatever I was going to say is fucking gone now. oh I think I memerbr#they are out of character ye. I’m sleepy and I’m making their escape au up as I go.#so far I have 1) the box scene was somehow Worse#2) they kidnapped Five (yippee!)#3) Charlie is the most traumatized out of the three. I don’t. I don’t know why.#I think that’s mostly because I didn’t feel like writing a conversation between Three characters. so my brain was like this :#why isn’t Charlie here? sleeping. why are these two not including him in conversation? protectiveness.#why protectiveness? he is the most upset out of the three of them and the other two have basically taken up the caretaker role. great plan#great plan hit the showers. I have reached. max tags. shit oh well back to writing tumblr says so!
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itsfloortimebabey · 2 years
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no bc why is a brandnew goodquality drysuit literally 1000 dollars. hello
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oaugh.
#i feel. so sick rn .#it has hit me like. oh yeah. my last day of work is in 2 days. i am never going to see any of these people again.#that post abt like. the light that follows u around and glows when its the last time youre ever gonna see someone/do something#. its haunting me rn#laying. on the fucking floor#:|#<< current emotion#im like. feeling every emotion known to mankind /neg and they are all cancelling each other out so im Actually feeling nothing.#im like. excited to go home bur also the idea of . living in proximity to certain people/places again is making me sick to my stomach fr#like! i escaped! i fucking escaped and got out and im free and . i am Choosing to go back now. why the fuck am i doing that#overall i think its a better decision than staying here tho. and my mom promised me i could redo my entire bedroom at home so like.#in her words (which hit me like a truck and i appreciate very much coming from her)#'it wont feel like the room you went through high school in'#so. im hoping that makes it better.#and now that i have. living on my own experience. i wont just. be cooped up at home with nothing to do.#esp bc im familiar with the area and know where thinggs are#but that doesnt completely cancel out the 'theres a nonzero chance you could run into people you used to know'#and 'you have to drive past her house whenever you go to x location'#which. fucking sucks. its fine. its fine . im just#its all hitting me NOW because my last day of work is coming up and all of my coworkers are. saying goodbye to me n stuff#its a lot. an d also nothing. and also everything.#:(#idk man. sucks#delete later
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jyoongim · 2 months
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Just found you and read all your Alastor fics. Love them! My request is jealous fucking with breeding. But the jealousy comes on because of Lucifer. Luci comes to visit the hotel and causally makes a sweet comment to reader but as soon as he notices that it pisses off Al, Lucifer just goes all in offer to buy readers soul and free her just to piss off Al until reader and Charlie have to break them up before they fight. Then comes in the breeding, so everyone knows your his as if him owning your soul wasn’t enough
Oh I appreciate it so much! I hope you enjoy it around these parts and I am happy you enjoy my writing!
Warnings: fem!reader, jealous!Alastor, flirting, Lucifer riling up Alastor, rough sex, breeding kink, pregnancy mentioned
The hotel was in an uproar over the King of Hell's impending visit.
Charlie was a nervous wreck and you were doing everything to make sure that the hotel was somewhat presentable and that everyone was well behaved.
”Now just be your charming self and make sure to help promote the purpose of the hotel for Charlie” you said fixing Alastor’s bow tie. He smiled down at you, waving his hand dismissively “Oh don’t worry my dear Ill be the perfect host. There’s nothing to worry about”
Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell…was not what you had expected.
You could see where Charlie got her flare from.
He was looking around the lobby, taking in the interior and the residents. You didn’t miss the way his face scrunched up a bit.
”And here are our lovely hotel managers dad” Charlie said, turning towards you and Alastor.
You smiled, giving him a slight curtesy “Its a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, I hope that you enjoy your time here at the hotel” 
Lucifer dawned a sultry smile, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. Kissing it.
”The pleasure is all mine”
Alastor growled, stepping between the two of you. He gave a tense smile “Pleased to meet you sir” he slapped your hand out of his and took it to shake. Lucifer blinked, a slight frown on his face “and you would be?” A snort escaped the red demon 
“Alastor! Im the host of the hotel. Maybe you’ve heard of my radio broadcast?” Lucifer deadpanned “nah never was one to consume media” he shrugged.
He slipped by to your side, looping an arm around you “Now I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour hmmm? Show me all of the more intimate parts” he chortled, as you nervously turned to Alastor.
Alastor's smile was tense and his eye was twitching slightly.
Irritated and annoyed.
Lucifer seemed to pick up on that.
He eyed the lanky demon, before cooing at you “oh don’t tell me you need the bellhop’s permission? ”
oh no. The lights flickered.
You cleared your throat “I would be honored your grace,but Alastor knows the hotel better than I. He can show you around” you offered, making the King groan.
Charlie chirped in “Yes yes. Alastor has been a great help. Well shall we?”
The tour went without any mishap. Alastor had you tucked away into his side as Charlie gave a run through of what she was trying to achieve.
Charlie suggested dinner before her dad left, to give him a little convincing to help.
You bustled about the kitchen, setting everyone’s meal down and making your way to sit by Alastor.
A hand grabbed your wrist, you stiffened as Lucifer gave you a charming smile “why not sit by me. Charlie has told of some of the improvements you think would work for the hotel”
You heard a static buzz as you took a seat by him.
You listened quietly as Charlie went on and on about her plans.
Lucifer had been not so subtly subtly flirting with you the entire dinner.
”Well I will think about it Charlie. I do believe your dream is possible” She smiled happily. he turned his eyes to you
”Especially with such lovely help” you blushed.
He seemed more interested in you.
”sooo what’s your deal with that guy” he was referring to Alastor
you tilted your head in question, he clarified his intention
”I mean he own your soul or something? A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be tied to the likes of him. how about I nullify whatever deal you made and you take you under my wing instead”
You looked at him shocked.
The sound of glass breaking sounded and Alastor shook his hand of the liquid once in the glass
He chuckled darkly “Well I am afraid it is late, wouldn’t you agree dearest?” His eyes narrowed on the man as he stood, coming around to stand behind you.
His eyes were black and glowing red as he practically sneered at the King.
Lucifer was unfazed by the intimidation tactic.
”haha what I strike a nerve? You’ve got this amazing beauty on a leash and for what? Im sure shell do much better being tied to you” 
Before Alastor could lunge at the man, you stood up and pressed yourself against him as you heard Charlie grab her dad to pull him away. 
Your hands reached for his face, turning his enraged eyes to you.
You shook your head at him slightly. You know when someone wa just trying to ruffle his feathers.
”I am feeling quite tired from today’s activities why don’t we turn in for the night yes?” You pleaded with him, softly pushing him back towards to door.
Large hands gripped your waist as his turned his eyes back towards Lucifer, he hissed lowly before whisking you out of the kitchen and to your shared bedroom.
———————————————————————————
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
You whined at a harsh thrust that jolted your body against the silky sheets.
The room was buzzing with static as Alastor fucked into you.
Green chains hung heavy around your collar as Alastor pulled on them to pull you into his thrusts.
He was pissed.
His usual composed and controlled demeanor slipping the moment he slammed the door.
He had taken you against the door roughly, too pent up to let you get a single word out.
He had thrown you onto the bed after, a dark aura surrounding him as his antlers grew with the angry emotions swirling inside him.
“Ah! Ha! A-Alastor!” You moaned as another orgasm racked through you.
He twisted your chains around his arm as he used them as leverage to drill his dick into you.
“Who do he think he is?” He growled, pushing your head into the mattress 
“Thinking he can just take you from me…ME?! You are mine”
You let out a cry as he ruined your walls, balls slapping against your cunt.
“You wouldn’t leave my side would you sweetheart” he hissed down at you, turning your head so you could see him.
”Who would want you after I ruin you hmm? You would be nothing but sloppy seconds.” He regraded you, angry at the very thought of you thinking you could terminate your deal with him.
Your deal with Alastor was nothing too extreme. Your complete devotion to him for his protection.
While he might not admit it, Alastor had grown accustomed to you being by his side, able to help him see reason and take on tasks he found too mundane.
You were like his wife in a sense. 
Soft and caring, always doing whatever he asked of you.
You never complained, happily fulfilling your duties to a tee.
And some goofy, short king thinks you would leave your benefactor?
Had he not given you anything you ever wanted?
You were the most free soul he had, that was a privilege.
Your cunt squelched as he pulled out, the tip kissing your outer lips as he stilled in his rough fucking.
You panted, clammy sweat sticking to your body as he tugged at your chains.
You were on your back, thighs spread around his waist.
A hand wrapped around your throat, Alastor leaning down to press a surprise soft kiss to your forehead
”You wouldn’t dare leave me would you baby” he cocked his head at you.
You shook your head quickly, hoping that he had blew off enough steam to finally be reasonable.
But Alastor’s jealousy was ugly.
He wouldn’t be done with you until there was nothing you thought about but him.
He should be what plagues your thoughts.
You should crave him by the time he was done.
He slotted back inside you, making you gasp as he returned to his fast pace.
”Leave me for that sorry excuse of a king? Ha! You wouldn’t. No not my pretty girl. Youre my good girl aren’t you?”
You mewled as you watch him transform.
”I-Im your good girl Ah! Pl-please!” Your eyes clenched closed in pleasure.
”Youre mine. You understand that? I own you. Your every thought. Every feeling. Your body, mind, and soul are mine. You gave them to me oh so happy. I can do whatever I please with you. Ruin you and dump you off into the street like a common whore if I wished”
You whimpered at his words.
”But thats not enough is it? Hmmm? Noooo. Youre not mine” he purred.
you pouted, ready to reassure him that you were, in fact, his.
He lifted one of your legs to your chest, angling his hips down
”Ill make sure every disrespectful wretch knows you are mine. Fir it seems my constant presence isn’t enough”
Your cunt fluttered.
How else would….
His dick hit that sweet spot deep inside you
”Oh! Ah!” His hand on your neck tightened as a sharp smile appeared on his face
”So maybe putting a claim to you will do the trick”
Your mouth shaped into an ‘O’ as he fucked you roughly, hips grinding down as if to make you mold to his very shape.
Sinners couldn’t reproduce.
Right?
that was your last coherent thought as he slammed his hips into yours over and over til he sighed, his dick twitching as he filled you with his cum.
You whined as he gave soft thrusts to keep his cum inside you, purring as it spilled around him, pooling around your ass.
You whined when he pulled out, hearing a soft ‘pop’ as you clenched around nothing.
A hand settled on your lower belly, now full of his cum, Alastor grinned wicked “Let’s see how much the pipsqueak will want you now my dear” he chuckled.
———————————————————————————
“Its nice to see you again sir” you said welcoming the King of Hell inside the hotel.
He smiled and once he got a good look at you, it fell.
”Charlie will be down in a second do you need anything?” You asked sweetly, hand resting on your swollen belly.
He stuttered out a response in surprise “O-oh w-why thank you. I take it you’ve been well”
Alastor manifested behind you, grinning at the short monarch, his arm roping around your waist, hand settling on the side of your stomach “Ah yes! We’ve been busy. Im sure you can tell”
Alastor- 2
Lucifer- 0
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Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)
Frost Bite
Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader
Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.
Word Count: 5k+
Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.
A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog
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I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."
I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.
I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.
It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.
And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.
It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.
And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.
It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.
The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.
My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...
I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.
Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.
I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.
Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"
I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."
Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.
"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.
I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.
I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.
The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.
I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.
He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.
"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.
His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.
I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.
I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"
He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.
"Do not waste your energy," I chide.
And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.
Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."
My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."
I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.
"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."
I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."
I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.
I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.
I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.
Daemon.
Daemon.
"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.
I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.
I whine.
His fingers-
"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"
I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.
"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.
He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.
When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.
He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.
It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.
My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.
"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"
Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"
All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.
"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.
He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."
He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."
I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.
I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.
Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.
I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."
I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."
He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."
I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."
Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."
"Hypocrite," I scoff.
He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."
I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."
"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"
"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.
Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."
He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.
"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"
"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.
He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"
I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."
He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"
"Fuck off-"
"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."
I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.
As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.
"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.
I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.
He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."
"Daemon, please stop-"
"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."
"Daemon-"
"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."
He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."
I look up at him as my breathing quickens.
"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.
I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.
"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."
I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.
"Say it," he barks.
"I-"
"Say you want me," he says softer this time.
I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."
I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."
I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.
"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."
I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."
He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.
"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.
I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.
His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."
I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."
My breath leaves me when he says this.
"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."
He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"
"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.
The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.
It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.
Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.
"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.
I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."
I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.
He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."
I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."
I shriek when I bites me.
Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.
I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.
I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.
"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.
"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.
I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.
I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.
"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."
I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.
Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"
His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.
I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.
His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.
I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.
Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."
The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.
He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."
My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.
"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.
"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.
He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"
My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."
I call out his name. He calls out mine.
I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."
Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.
I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.
I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.
I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.
"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."
"Daemon-"
"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"
"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"
"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"
My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.
Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.
He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.
My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.
"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."
I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.
I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.
"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.
I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.
I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.
He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.
"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.
He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"
"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.
Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."
I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.
His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.
"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."
I weakly mumble, "fuck off."
His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "
"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.
Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.
"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.
I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."
"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."
"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.
"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"
I turn to him in concern and push myself up.
Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"
I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.
"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"
I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"
"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.
"That you want me," I quip just as fast.
He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.
"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."
"Well, pardon me for not-"
"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.
I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.
He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"
I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.
When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."
I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."
"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."
I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."
He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"
"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"
"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.
And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.
He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.
He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.
"Daemon-"
"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."
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burntb4bydoll · 11 months
Note
Pookie bear my love my stars (very respectfully)…. Are you willing to write the crazy ass sex after Tom beats the asshole up 🤭🤭 You got my curiosity now I am so invested in this; my oh my ~
YES I AM WILLING TO WRITE THAT MY LOVELY SWEETIE PIE
@meryldian
Tom Kaulitz x fem!reader
Warnings: mirror sex, choking, praising, hair pulling, possessive Tom😇
“Tom,” you giggled “Slow down!” Tom pulls you quickly into the house, eager to get you all to himself. He turned around to send you a smirk, making you roll your eyes playfully.
“You’re not gonna want me to slow down when I fuck you.” You gasped, another fit of giggles escaping your lips.
“Jesus Tom! You’re so dumb.” Tom leads you up to his room, immediately pressing his body up against your and pulls you into a heated make out session. Both of your hands wander over each others body, tugging off your clothing while continuing your messy kissing.
“Im gonna try something new, baby. Turn around.” You do as you were told and turn around, seeing yourself in the mirror that was across from you on the opposite side of the bed. (Im so fucking dumb idk if that makes any sense) “Im gonna fuck you right in front of this so that you can see who you belong to. You’re gonna see who fucks you better than anyone else can.” Tom pushes you so that you were laying with your stomach pressed against the mattress. He comes up behind you and pulls your hips up so that they are pressed against him. Your eyes meet his in the mirror before trailing over to look at his almost completely naked body. He looked ethereal in the dimly lit lighting, watching you with hunger in his eyes.
“You look so good Tom,” you groan “no one could ever compare to you.” You compliment, pushing your ass into him to gain some friction. The room was growing hotter as his hands held onto your hips, slowly grinding himself on you.
“Yeah? You’re such a sweet girl. Im gonna make you feel so good, baby.” His boxers were quickly discarded before he moved to remove your own underwear. Tom rubs his hand over your ass before giving it a gentle squeeze while he rubs his tip through your wetness. After a few seconds of teasing, he finally pushes himself into you. He gives you a second to adjust before pulling out halfway and slamming himself back in. Hearing the way you werw moaning for him made him smirk, speeding up his thrusts.
“Fuck Tom! You’re so deep. Feels so fucking good~” Panting, you lay your head down onto the mattress. But Tom decides that he doesn’t like that. His hand grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you head up to face the mirror again.
“No, baby. You don’t get to look away. Watch yourself while I fuck your pretty cunt.” His groans start to grow louder as he watches your eyes gloss over while you make eye contact with him. He lets go of your hair and leans down to kiss the back of your neck. “Good girl~ you listen so well.” The sounds of his hips meeting your ass make you impossibility more turned on. Usually when Tom gets jealous he is more degrading and harsh, but this time he wants nothing more than to show you how well he can treat you. Tom knows that he’s the only person who can make you feel this good, and he wants to prove that to you.
“Tom- Tommy… can you choke me? Please? Ill be so good!” You prop yourself up with your elbows, giving him a pleading look through your reflection. His hand comes up to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing it just enough to make you whine. “Thank you! I love you, Tommy.” His thrust start to get sloppy after hearing your sweet voice, and he feel’s himself growing closer to cumming.
“God, you are so fucking hot. You like when I choke you like this? You like watching me fuck you?” His desperate voice pulls you closer to your own orgasm, feeling your stomach start to tighten.
“Mhm! Love it s’much…oh fuck..” your eyes start to roll back when his free hand starts toying with your clit, rubbing quickly against you. “Shit! Im gonna cum, Tom! Make me cum. Please make me cum!” You begged, watching his hips pound against your body. He bit his lip, trying to hold of on cumming until you do.
“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and show me how good I make you feel.” His hand squeezes your throat harder, sending you over the edge. Tom watches as your body starts trembling as he can feel himself slipping into his orgasm.
“Cum inside me Tom, please! I want you to cum for me~!” You were still riding out your orgasm, your pleasure almost turning into overstimulation. Tom immediately cums after hearing your whiny begging, moaning loudly at the intense feeling.
After he pulls out, he flips you over to kiss you softly. Your eyes flutter shut, trying to savor the warmth of his lips. When he pulls away, his hand gently caresses your hair. “You did so good. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
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anakin-pilled · 4 months
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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: no use of y/n
rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!
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You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.
Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush. 
After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire. 
You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you.  You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love. 
The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.
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Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse. 
Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt. 
Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought. 
Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together. 
As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face. 
You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”
“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.
“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions. 
“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?” 
You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”
“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly. 
You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different. 
“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine. 
“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy. 
You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could. 
Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”
“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”
“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous. 
“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.
“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin. 
“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”
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You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy. 
The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger. 
“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first. 
Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life. 
Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.” 
“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector.  He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you. 
“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.
You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”
Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer. 
“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin. 
It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.
“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine. 
“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished. 
“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”
Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a  fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.  
“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction. 
You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked. 
“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.
“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face. 
You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner. 
“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time. 
The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food. 
Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down. 
You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert. 
“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it. 
You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.
Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from. 
You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”
He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child. 
“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”
Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls. 
You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face. 
“Well, I think it’s time we head back.” 
Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules. 
You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure. 
Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him.  Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one. 
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taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):
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kichikichiko · 1 year
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Just a quickie ♡
YALL ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT IM DUJSJCKSJD.
Theres not enough sub wanderer fics around here istg⁉️
Anyways be kind to me and my first smut work because I am a fluff writer by heart👹👹
Tagging my lovely @hitomisuzuya because shes my fellow wanderer lover 🫶🏻
Written by a minor! Just block if ur uncomfortable😁
Sort of public sex, sub!wanderer x gen neutral! Reader, hand job, idk whatelse to write, not proofread
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♡♡♡♡
"You idiot! What if we get caught here! Ah! Mmhm~"
Wanderer covered his mouth, when a not so innocent sound came out of his mouth.
"Thats fine by me" you answered honestly, too focused on painting his pretty neck with kisses and hickeys. "Let's just make sure its an enjoyable show for those who caught us"
The chances of getting caught was high, considering there isnt a lot of private alleyways in sumeru city, but you made the most of it.
Wanderer covered his mouth anytime a whimper or moan of his was deemed "too loud" by his standard.
But that only riled you to take his arms up and pin it above his head.
"Youre doing this on purpose. I fucking know it, you horny bitch" he whimpered, trying to get his arms free before the inevitable comes to play. He acts all high and mighty and doesnt help with his big ego. But it all comes crumbling down the moment you trap him between your arms.
"Aw but you like it though wanderer" you teased, a smirk plastered on your face. "Especially when I do this" you started grinding your knee up to his growing erection, making the man whimper louder.
More soft moans and whimpers escaped his mouth before you stopped. Causing Wanderer to look at you and frown.
"Why'd you stop? You could have at least get it over with and we can finally go home. Hurry up and do it again before I-" his sentence once again got interupted with you suddenly placed your hand on his chest, and slowly drag down to his erection, and under his pants.
"What are you doing?!" He demanded an answer, his race growing red by the minute.
"What does it look like im doing?" You gently circled your finger around the tip of his cock before wrapping your arm around it and started pumping it.
"Oh archons- no- mmhm~ a-ahh~!" He started moaning louder . "(Name) please dont stop! Please dont dont dont!" Babbling nonsense got you riled up more and started pumping his cock faster.
"Wait- no - stop! I think im gonna cum" he started squirming, hands still above his head trying to get them free
"Didnt you say I shouldnt stop? Why are you complaining now? Come on, cum for me my dear" that only made you pump his cock faster than before, catching wanderer off guard and made him release a loud moan and cum all over your hand.
Wanderer plopped his head on your shoulder and twitches anytime you toy with the tip of his cock.
"Lets continue this at home shall we? Im not done with you yet wanderer"
It was gonna be a long night indeed
♡♡♡♡
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clubdionysus · 3 days
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[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde
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warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!
soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters
wc: 3.5k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 
It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.
The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 
He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.
The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.
Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.
Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.
When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.
"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.
If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.
Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.
Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.
But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 
You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.
Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 
"I don't know how to, Dan."
"But you do," she insists.
And she's right. Of course you do. 
His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.
Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.
Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.
Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.
The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.
And yet he does, each and every time.
He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.
You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.
You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.
It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.
"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.
"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."
Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 
He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 
Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 
You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 
Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.
He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.
Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 
Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.
All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.
It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.
You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.
Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 
Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 
Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 
You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.
"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.
Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."
That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 
After all, if you can't go back? 
Go forward.
"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."
"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.
You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 
"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.
The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 
"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.
She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."
"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.
Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  
The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 
You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.
It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 
The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 
The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 
Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.
It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.
Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"
You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 
"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."
"A glowing review."
"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"
Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"
"Fuck knows."
It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 
And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.
The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.
Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.
But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 
Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 
If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?
You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 
Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.
It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 
You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 
See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.
Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.
One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 
For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 
All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.
There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 
When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 
It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.
JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?
You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.
You: Just wondering how the kids are <3
Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.
JustJK:  Missing their mother. 
JustJK:  Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.
JustJK:  Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.
JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3
With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 
You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.
You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3
There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.
JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.
JustJK:  You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.
JustJK:  Haven't even paid them a visit!!!
Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.
You:  You've got full custody!!!
JustJK:  And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!
JustJK:  smh and to think you call yourself their mother.
JustJK: I'm their mother now.
You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 
You:  They need me :(
JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.
You:  Tomorrow?
He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.
Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.
JustJK:  I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?
You:  Will Perry the Pigeon be there?
JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.
It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 
It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 
Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.
Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.
Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 
For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.
Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.
And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.
You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.
JustJK:  Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.
You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.
JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.
JustJK:  I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.
Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 
Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.
But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.
You're laughing as you send it.
And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 
"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."
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racharii · 8 days
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coming from an enby whos tme (tho i myself am not transmasc), i feel like a lot of transmasc people are doing this "have their cake and eat it too" thing where they want to be perceived as men or men adjacent, in our society a part of the oppressor class, while also still wanting to benefit from structures meant to protect against said class. specifically ones that have been set up in queer spaces. ive met quite a few trans men who were just as vehemently misogynysitic as your average dude bro. and (this is speculation based on convos ive had with trans men im not in every transmascs head) a lot of transmascs have a lot of internalized misogyny that they project onto trans women. ive had an irl ex friend of mine say something that i think encapsulates this particular issue fairly well. this was like 8 years ago, we were talking about trans rep in media (specifically orange is the new black iirc) so im paraphrasing; 'its messed up that we (afabs in this context) are sidelined for people who used to be men, we cant escape the patriarchy.' that was horribly transmisogynistic, so lets unpack it.
it assumes that trans women are just men
it assumes sex essentialism, that they and i were just women. that we were just poor Females having 'our space' encroached on by mean 'former men.'
im not saying that all transmascs think like this ofc. #notallmen. im saying that some do, and enough transmascs have internalized misogyny and not enough self reflection.
just because you are trans doesnt mean you are immune to bigotry and recouping oppressive structures. none of us are free of Sin™️. you as an individual have to make an effort to reflect on your thoughts and actions and how they might affect yourself and others, so that you are not a willing participant of our communities oppression.
for example, ive talked a lot privately about my journey to being a better person, (and pobodies nerfect, its always a learning process, you always will have things you can improve on. and thats okay, were all just human) i initially hated it/its pronouns. 'it' gave me the ick. i was called 'it' as a kid incessantly to make fun of my gender presentation, i couldnt fathom someone else finding peace and even euphoria in using it/its. i bought into the conservative talking points about neopronouns and it/its being detrimental to the trans community. they were "the bad transes" and me? well i use they/them but shakespeare used the singular they so im fine :), im one of the good ones. then one day, i was listening to some video essay idr what or who, but something they said stuck with me, "if it/its makes me happy, why do you care? how does 'it' hurt you really?" my trauma is not everyones trauma, people will find comfort in things that i wont, and thats okay. 'it' hurt me when i was young, by cruel kids and uncaring adults. why am i hurting my community, my fellow transes, by continuing to deny them their autonomy to identify how they like? so i got over 'it.' i saw the real harm was the fucking wedge being driven between us by conservative grifters trying to pick off the weakest in the herd before they go in for the rest of us.
visibility isnt necessarily a good thing for marginalized people. transfemmes are the biggest target of hate in our community atm. they unfortunately serve as the canary. global fascism is on the rise and to be frank, a targeted hate campaign against a trans woman is asking for her to be killed. outed, paraded as a freak, doxxed, swatted, killed. protect trans women, fascism doesnt stop with one group nor will you be saved by being "one of the good ones." trans solidarity, even the people you dont like, even if you think theyre icky or gross or whatever the fuck else you do Not give up trans solidarity. you dont make callout posts, you dont send death threats, you dont send hate mail, if you dont like someone Block Them and move on.
we stand together or we will be eradicated.
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stars-at-5pm · 3 months
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Just hold me.. please?
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Masterlist
Pairing : sirius black x reader
Type : comfort/fluff
Summary : You're having bad period cramps and Sirius comforts you
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"I'm going to die." you huffed. " This is it, my final day. I'm too youg to die.. how sad"
" You're not going to die sweetheart." he said with two cups of tea in his hands, setting them on the coffee table. "Can I sit with you on the coutch ? Would that be okay ?"
"How are you even asking right now ? Please come sit with me" you pouted. He gently sat down on the couch right next to you, he looked at you with the kindest eyes ever. Sirius always had that power, he was loving, so comforting. Especially in moments like this.
" Here, rest your head on my lap i'll massage your head" you happily did as asked, looking forward to have some relief. You looked up at him, embracing his soft features. The fireplace lit next to the coutch reflected in his eyes, making them shine. The true prince charming you thought. He smelled like his shampoo too, the sweetest smell in the world.
Slowly, he started massaging your temples, taking deep breaths hoping you would follow his rythym.
" How are you feeling darling ? Still cramping ?"
" Yup, it's been a while since i've had such bad cramps" you closed your eyes as another wave of cramps swallowed you. His hands were warm on your already hot face, the slow patterns on your forhead felt good. " I- I'm sorry for ruining your boys night.. I know you were exited and-" "No. Don't do this darling, you did not ruin anything. First of all I'm more than happy to be taking care of you, second of all, I'm too tired to go anyway. I'd rather be here with you, I want to be with you."
Your eyes filled with tears, he was so kind to you, his words worked just as much as his massaging. Why am i going to cry ? you thought.
" Aw baby.. that bad huh ? When was the last time you took painkillers ?" he hated to see you cry.
" Hum... Around one pm I think "
" No wonder you're in bad shape, i'll go grab some, that way you'll drink your tea. " You pouted, like the saddest puppy ever. " Why are you leaving me ? I thought- you were happy to hang out with me ? " A sob escaped your throat, fucking hormones.
" What ? Baby... he melted at your sight, I'm not leaving you. Never. I'm just going to grab them from my bag, look. It's right there" he pointed to the old-looking chair that was right next to the fireplace. "It's okay, it's okay im here." He said caressing your hair.
" Sorry. I'm a bit all over the place." You slowly sat back up, allowing Sirius to get up and grab his bag. " It's okay." He smiled and got up fast, wanting to be back next to you as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, you took a sip of your tea. Of course it had been lovingly poured in your favorite mug, it's still hot, you closed your eyes, the hot tea bringing you some comfort.
" Look, I have your meds and a blanket ! Don't ask why I have a blanket in my bag I honestly have no idea. "
" Thank you." You took the painkillers, hoping it would work, and fast.
" Alright, lay down baby." he waited for you to do so, and then laid next to you, covering you both with the blanket. He was spooning you, in the common room, next to the fireplace, and he was so, so warm.
" Okay, feeling comfortable ?" You nodded as an answer. "Sleep darling, it will help. And it’s okay, I want you to know that. It’s completely natural and it is valid for you to be emotional, ok ? I’ll be here when you wake up."
He put a hand on your lower abdomen and started rubbing it, you hummed in response, already feeling the sleep catching you.
" I love you."
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Feel free to signal any spelling/english mistake !!
Lots of love <3
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bucknastysbabe · 1 year
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your pegging fic with bucky was SO FUCKING GOOD. can you please do another one?? like im literally so into it i was drooling the whole time
as for plot, just making him cry again LOL and overall just having him be a mess because
we love that for him.
thank you thank you thank you!
Bro I am so sorry I have no clue how this escalated. You have another free Bucky railing fic that doesn’t include my brain going wild. But he do be crying and a complete mess. Thanks for asking and I hope you are at the LEAST entertained!
Goes along with Praise Kink
Shadowplay - Joy Division
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Rating: Explicit
Word count: 3,882
Tags: TW‼️WHUMP, DEAD DOVE, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS, OFF SCREEN SUI‼️, Everyone is crazy, the reader is having a Hydra Life Crisis, Lots of ass play, pegging(m!receiving), fem dom, reader is ace spectrum, Bucky is a crybaby overstimulated touchstarved Angel, praise kink, slight dacry, angst ANGST ANGSTTTTT, switching pov’s like me in bed, they do a little Russian it’s called they do a little Russian, Hydra!Reader
A/N: idk man I’m just a vessel, also just liked the idea of there being a lead up to Buckbuck being like I Cannot Compute Anymore You Assholes then his boyfriend Steve saves the day💞 HC: Pierce likes Bucky be in emotional pain so sends him to her thinking he’ll kill the reader. Translations under cut
Russian translations: Милый (dear), блять (bitch/whore), глупая девчонка (foolish girl), Малыш (baby/bb boy), Умница (good boy), да (yes), хуй (cock), Трахни меня (fuck me), командир (commander), Спасибо (thanks/ty), зимний солдат (winter soldier)
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To the center of the city where all roads meet, waiting for you.
To the depths of the ocean where all hopes sank, searching for you
The asset knew he had to report to his Komandir. That’s what happened every mission. They tried to tell the asset that Rumlow was his handler now. Rumlow was not his handler. Komandir was. But she had been gone for some time and he needed her back. The strike team leader was reckless and too bloodthirsty, not calculating enough. The asset could not say that out loud.
He trudged through dark alleys and poorly lit streets, rain pelting down on his leather tactical gear.
Nice Komandir. She was nice. The asset had unregulated emotions for her. He needed maintenance badly. First, the asset must give the mission report to her. The fake handler would be monitoring for the asset now, with their dogs and strike team.
Strike team would not find the asset. He will return himself after reporting to Komandir. The asset got intel on her whereabouts. She was relocated in New York under a new alias. The asset could almost smell her, see her, if he focused enough.
His boots slapped through a puddle before launching up a fire escape. The rain poured down harder— threatening to fill up the alley like an ocean. The asset would swim until his lungs gave out. The Director couldn’t take her away, putting her in an swarm of people or in the deepest cave. Because the asset would find her. She had to be locked up. She would never leave the asset.
They took her— he’d decided earlier after reporting to the pretender. The asset’s morale was sinking fast under Rumlow. That’s when the Director informed the asset on his Komandir. The Director had waved a hand dismissively, “Go find her then, do what you must and come back.” He didn’t understand but went out anyways.
I was moving through the silence without motion, waiting for you.
In a room with a window in the corner, I found truth.
Soldat climbed higher and higher until he was outside her window. He’d memorized it over and over and over and over. The asset grappled onto the thin balcony with a jump, using the moment to swing himself onto the platform. His covered eyes gathered the limited surroundings. A couple of flowerpots, an ashtray on the windowsill, and her familiar face gaping in the window.
The asset wanted to weep, kneel, receive her perfect touch. The asset only got stabs, bloody thrusts, and punches between his bloodshot eyes. Then wiped and put on ice. Although he hadn’t been put on ice much since transitioning to the United States. They had lots of people to get rid of before that. So the Director wiped him more often.
The window opened and her familiar rasp rang out in the rainy night, “Sweet soldier. You must be cold. Come in.” The asset nodded dumbly, shoving himself precariously through the window, contorting his broad shoulders and thighs to get through. Inside was a silent, thinly furnished room.
Cigarette stubbed beside the couch, the television playing something. His blues caught on a blanket and book, her handgun laid on top. Air blew the curtains softly from the window in the corner. The asset whimpered, “Where did you go Komandir?,” he fell to padded knees, “I cannot comply when Rumlow doesn’t have clearance for mission report.”
She cooed and stood tall as always, only clad in a thin gown. Komandir’s lips turned down at the mention of Rumlow. Her hands brushed his cheeks. Off came the goggles, then the mask. The asset’s wide blue eyes followed her obediently. One of her calloused thumbs strummed against his stubbled jaw. She said, “Sweetheart, I’m not officially your handler, not your Komandir anymore.”
He nuzzled into her hand, lips already wobbling. Why would they replace the best Komandir? She learned from Vasily Karpov, Vasily from…from. He couldn’t remember— there had been so many. One that smelled of aftershave and two older men with glasses that made him feel very cold.
She sighed, “They said I wasn’t worth their time sweet boy. I had to go.” The asset believed her, Komandir always told the truth. She knelt down and smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re a star, precious, you shine so bright that not everyone can keep up with it.”
He replied, a ghostly whisper if anything, “The left me to Agent Rumlow. You couldn’t stay under him?”
Fear laced her stern features for the first time. The asset grew uneasy. His programming was screaming, “Maintenance! MAINTENANCE!” Her heart rate spiked rapidly while the agent fumbled for words. He gripped her wrist to bark, “You defected then! You defected like a coward and left me,” a sob tore his throat, “with them!”
His silver hand wrenched Komandir‘s other wrist towards him, her grunting in pain. Her breasts heaved as she panted. The asset glared her down, so many emotions swirling he felt he may explode. She lied to him. Why would she lie to him? Her star.
“Soldat. Status Report please,” she quavered.
Soldat’s tight shoulders relaxed minutely as he listed off, “Physical functions one-hundred percent. Maintenance required as soon as possible. Confusion, dangerously elevated norepinephrine, panic, traumatic response, and- and-,” he bit his tongue to stare. Komandir’s face was wrought with grief.
She murmured, climbing into the asset’s lap, “I need you to slow down comrade. It’s just you and me right now,” she pet his long locks to elicit that chest deep purr, “Can I tell you what happened while I get you clean sweet boy?”
The asset’s lids dropped at her soft body, familiar scent, and wise words. His plump lips trembled while whining, “P-please. I-I’m becoming…defective.”
“I know,” she soothed, “I know.”
In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more.
As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor.
As the former agent pet her broken star her chest constricted with emotions. Pierce knew. The bond between asset and handler had grown entirely too close. He’d spat at her, “That thing is a weapon, not a puppy for you to coddle.” She wanted to tell the Director that a person could only go so long under this treatment before snapping completely. Render them useless to the plan. Whatever that may be.
Surprisingly Pierce had demoted her down to the lowest strike team squadron and elevated the prick Rumlow to be the next handler. The Director’s shiny teeth looked like fangs as he spoke, “I’ll keep you around because of your…skills. Any infractions you’re dead.”
So the former Komandir was a grunt again, under Strike Team Omega. They mainly went around sabotaging small terrorist cells. Soldat whined under her hand again, the woman tilting his wide eyes up. She frowned. Poor baby looked so broken, so lost. He had no clue he was going to leave here without his Komandir.
“Take off your gear, precious,” she ordered.
The Russian divested soldat of his guns and knives, laying them out on a neat line. She asked, “How much are they putting you on ice sweet boy?” His blues grew disoriented as he thought. Mechanical as ever, Soldat’s hands divested his leather top.
“Not much. More wipes. Something is coming.”
Something was coming. Maybe not now but in a couple of years. Pierce had something big. There was a reason scientists were holed up in one the hangars, crews building day and night. So they were over-using the soldier to make sure nothing crept out.
She thumbed the seam of scars along the asset’s prosthetic, the other’s hands jolting at the sensation. His pretty lips opened to whimper. Komandir unbuckled his belt and hummed, “They demoted me. I was with a lower strike team. I couldn’t take it anymore. W-without you I cannot provide anything useful for the greater cause.”
The woman remembered her last point. They were in Zagreb celebrating after a arms dealing commune was torn to shreds. Instead of going home, the team helped themselves to the women in trafficking. Assassins, warriors— dancing fools with these broken women. The former handler left and didn’t look back. She knew nothing. Hydra had a purpose once. It grew rancid just like everything else.
And with cold steel, odor on their bodies made a move to connect.
But I could only stare in disbelief as the crowds all left.
Alone in the world again. The Komandir wandered and wandered. Somehow always getting roped back into the underbelly of civilization. She told the silent asset about it. He seemed just as lost contemplating free will.
“I joined a couple of syndicates, former KGB, some widows. I moved around the states and just found no one had a goal. I just try to get by now, my sweet. It’s not pretty out there.”
She wiped her nose, “And to think I’d always dreamed of having you to myself forever. Sick. Selfish.”
I did everything, everything I wanted to.
I let them use you for their own ends.
Tears welled in Komandir’s eyes. She pulled his huge frame close and cried into greasy hair. “I should have got you back, kept you safe, get Hydra back to stage one,” her voice cracked, “I don’t know. I just ran and left them to break you down even more. I-I-I-I’m so sorry Милый, I’m so sorry.”
The Russian knew how this would end. She would die and be a remnant of something unattainable. Perfect was unattainable. Soldat was the closest she would witness and that’s enough. She stroked his wide back with gentle circles, sobs dying.
Soldat’s voice was a dull rasp in the pitch room.
“What would you have me do, Komandir?”
He looked so hopeful. Rage filled her heart, cracking and blistering from exposure. Run with me, start anew, kill that блять Pierce. The woman sat back and put on a smile. She purred, “I would have you relax and let me take care of you, sweetness.”
The asset nodded, unlacing his boots, plates in his arm clacking and humming. The woman thumbed his delicate nose, the thin skin under a once bright blue eye. She whispered, “Such a pretty soldat, perfect soldat.” Silent tears slid down her face. Vasily was probably in a hideout shaking his head. глупая девчонка.
She said, “I’m going to get the bath running, just lay your clothes out and join me,” she shushed his panicked noise, “Just around the corner Малыш.” She padded through the small apartment, ignoring the state of it. Soldat likely cared.
The former agent ran it scalding hot, throwing some lavender in there. She readied a towel and fluffed it. The bath tub was small, but she wanted to pamper her perfect star anyways. She worried her lip, he seemed to be cracking, bad. Too much time off ice and repeated wipes have not been studied. Komandir had never heard him speak so much, all that raw emotion.
Soldat’s hulking frame shadowed the doorway. Knelt down the Komandir beckoned him over. He gracefully clambered into the tub, sitting down with a grimace.
“Too hot?”
“No. I like it hot,” he murmured.
Her eyes roved the beauty of his body, stopping on heated cheeks, full lips, bulky chest, and that beautiful cock. It laid on his belly, a deep red and leaking. His balls were tight but she could see the stress, the heaviness of it. Supersoldiers needed to cum much more than the average man.
The woman grabbed a cup and dunked it to fill it up. Her other hand cupped his knee, thumbing the soft inside. Soldat whimpered again, dark lashes fluttering. She poured the water over his oily dark hair, doing it again until it was soaked.
“Lean up baby.”
She poured some cheap shampoo into her palm, lathering it up. The asset groaned deep in his chest at the contact— nails scritch-scratching away the oils and dirt. He stated, “I’m not supposed to remember you.” His watchful orbs looked up.
“You’re not supposed to remember that you’re not supposed to remember, Умница.”
He bit down on his lip and warbled, “I’m s-scared Komandir. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
You’re falling apart.
“Shh, baby, in the moment now, in the moment.”
He stilled but Soldat’s eyes had that ingrained wide-eyed fear. She washed the suds out and combed through the tangles, earning some pretty sighs. The Komandir found herself lecturing, “What the Americans do not get…you have to make sure your weap- agents are clean and cared for.”
She hissed while scrubbing his wide shoulders and neck, littered with yellowed bruises, “They don’t take care of their prized fist, that’s why poor soldat is feeling down.” He nodded along, shoulders relaxing minutely. Komandir washed down his arms, digging out the blood encrusted into the plates.
She did the rest methodically: Wash the feet, move down to the toes, calves, thighs. Stop. Soldat was mewling and squirming, face trained on her. His lips wobbled, brow furrowed in agony. The asset whined, “Komandir, please, need your touch, help me.” She ran a hand slowly down his trembling belly, palming the swollen cock.
“Soon, Малыш,” she promised.
His bitten lips pouted, but her good boy always listened. She stated, “I was blind that Hydra would keep the original goal alive. I felt more confident leaving knowing that. But I was wrong, sweet baby. You’re the key and they don’t know it.”
Komandir pulled out a straight razor and shaving cream. She shaved his stubble while continuing, “You will be the one to change Hydra. Burn it into the ground or rise above the sham it’s become. That’s your reality, and the time will come. You must not fail now dear soldat.”
He steeled himself, relaxing under orders, vague as they are. She knew Soldat knew he had to wait for the perfect moment. The brunette thanked her in the softest voice when she wiped off his newly cleaned cheeks. The woman cooed, “Never seen a prettier baby. Turn over so I can get everything.”
By the time she’d cleaned and prepped the soldier out he was a mess. He’d come once already, scrabbling at the tile and wailing in ecstasy. Poor thing wasn’t done. Now dry, her perfect soldier rutted against her soft, soft thigh. His pink lips were sealed around her nipple, whining and suckling.
She pulled at his long locks and said, “As a gift,“ she tapped his cleft chin, “Do you want your Komandir to fuck your sweet hole?” The Russian wouldn’t mention it was a final gift. He babbled in multiple languages but the message was clear— fuck me. She smiled down at his teary cheeks and cooed, “Eager baby. I’ll show you what it’s like to be fucked. Not like those jackasses.”
“Mmmh-pleaseee,” the brunette wantonly begged. He rutted against the bedding while the Komandir moved to a chest in the room. The asset drooled, spreading his thick thighs to draaag his achy cock against the too-soft material— eliciting an annoyed whine.
“Almost there my star,” she laughed. There were some noises of clipping and leather. To their ears it sounded like a gun belt or harness of sorts.
She clicked the heavy black silicone into place. There was no other side to stimulate the woman. Same as it always was, it was her precious boy’s pleasure to take, not her own.
Ambling over to the bedside she asked, “Front or back sweetheart?”
“Front, front, front!,” he babbled.
“Okay. When you see me and change your mind just say so baby.”
He made a confused gesture but flipped onto his back, exposing that pretty pink cock again. Drool actively collected on his plump lips at the sight of Komandir’s strap. He obviously had never seen anything like it. Scarred hands gave it a slow stroke, fingers barely able to meet around the girth.
“Well?”
The asset whined her name thinly, begging for her to take him. She climbed upon the bed one knee at a time, hand on the cock, eyes heady and glued on the trembling soldier. She purred, “Are you sure you want it? Reaaaally think baby boy, there’s freedom of choice under all that mess.”
She tried to play it across seductively but the true meaning was laid bare. Soldat’s eyes flicked about the heavy silicone, throat bobbing in anticipation. He began to speak, faltered, frustrated tears welling up. Finally with his head down the soldier croaked, “Please, want you, please.”
“I’ve got you.”
To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.
To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.
She stripped off the gown and tossed it to the dingy carpet. The woman crawled between his legs and kissed a path up to his waiting mouth, puckered tightly. He was vibrating with need, huge arms circling around Komandir’s slim waist. He closed the gap, licking into her open lips.
The woman seized Soldat’s throat with a loose grip, just to stabilize the inevitable freefall. The brunette’s lips were insistent, demanding— like he was trying to take her soul. She moaned lowly, twisting around his probing tongue easily, lips wetly smacking. She nipped his lip playfully, squeezing his veined throat.
The soldier cried out, teeth gnashing against hers as he kissed and kissed and sucked. The soft skin of Komandir’s belly rubbed against Soldat’s achy need, sending pin pricks of pleasure to overstimulated nerves. When she suckled on his tongue, the titanium arm shifted with a shrill whine.
She pulled back breathless, patting the hand once round Soldat’s throat on his sweaty chest. He mewled in frustration, rutting his cock into the air, no release on the horizon. The Russian cooed, “More kisses soon needy boy. You want my cock in you, да?”
Soldat nodded, tears dripping like a leaky faucet down his red red cheeks. The assassin spread his legs wide open, tucking heels against the meat of his ass. Komandir crooned, “Look at you, precious thing, all open and ready for my хуй.”
“Трахни меня! Fuck me!,” he sobbed.
She shushed him with a slight slap to a muscular thigh, wrapping them up around her hips afterward. A once-manicured hand guided the fake cock to the asset’s pink hole, glistening and ready with slick. He babbled, “Oh please- need it, командир, please!”
Without a pause she jabbed the entire length into his eager ass, pretty soldat crying in relief, ripping his big hands through the shitty sheets. She thrust into him deeper, before pulling out with a lurid squelch, then diving back in twice as hard.
The Komandir poured all over her anger, heartache, stupid stupid love, agony into the brutal fucking. The asset’s brown locks bounced around as he drooled and moaned like a slip of a thing getting her pussy split in half. He was in paradise. The woman grunted, smoothing her palms up his ridged torso, “Singing so sweetly baby, you feeling good star?”
“Y-yes,” he choked on his spit, “Gonna cum!”
She cocked her head in surprise, not missing a beat, “So soon, after I milked you out in the tub too? Greedy babe.” More tears leaked at the humiliation, the asset pulling her on top of his writhing body. He nuzzled into her sweaty hair, panting, “Mmmfuck, more, always more, never enough from you Komandir.”
Finding her own eyes growing wet the woman fucked him harder, shaking hand rolling his still swollen balls around. The asset mewled in her hair, getting it sticky with spit. His back was tightly arched as he clung to her. Behavior one wouldn’t see out of a six foot, two-hundred something pound killing machine.
He whimpered, “M’cumming, cumming for you, fuck!”
She seized his newly shaved chin and pressed damp foreheads together. The Russian breathed, “C’mon then, paint me up my precious. Good boys like you get to cum all they want.” He fell apart beautifully, all violent twitches of big muscles and the bloody biting of lips. Cum plastered her belly and even tits. The asset cried for his Komandir, trembling as she licked his tears up.
A feeling of time slipping struck the woman in the chest. In a fervent frenzy she coaxed him onto his belly, the soldier still dazed from the earlier release. The woman propped his ass up, praising the greatest creation of Hydra through her tears.
Die between his beautiful thighs.
She slid back into his sore hole, thumbing around the rim as she watched the stretch. Soldat snuffled, “Спасибо, Спасибо, Спасибо.” The brunette rutted back onto her brutal thrusts, bracing himself on his arms. Constant noises dried his mouth out but everything felt so good. His Komandir, back again to take care of the asset.
The Komandir was drilling his sweet spot dead-on now, moaning softly in delight. She pulled at her precious baby’s engorged cock and cooed in his ear, “Taking me so well, that’s my boy. I love you. You’re going to do big things,” he sobbed and spread out sluttily, “Bigger than me, Rumlow, Director, the whole lot of them.”
The asset was mewling and babbling, nose runny from how overwhelmed his body was. Everything felt like it was getting fucked on his touchstarved body. The cum getting forced out of his balls was spreading all over Komandir’s bed. But he was listening to her words, trying to, hard when he was about to explode.
“Promise me зимний солдат,” she whispered, “Promise me that when the chance comes you take it, okay sweetling? Do it for your Komandir who loves her star very much.” The woman couldn’t hide the crack in her voice at the end. Those gorgeous blues gazed at her like she was good, whole, someone who hung the moon and stars.
“глупая девчонка”, Vasily would say.
The woman kissed his blubbering lips to stop herself from crumpling. He panted, “I promise, I promise Komandir. I will cuh-comply.” He was puffing out weak cries now, twisting underneath her clumsy strokes. She swiped her thumb over the red hot tip of the asset’s cock and watched him spill for a third time, crumpling with a cracking wail. Only a bit spurted out this time.
The Komandir pressed her lips to the center of his spine, chest heaving. She sounded like a broken machine at this point. “Promise me, promise me precious star.” He wept, “I promise, I do, I love you, always follow my Komandir.”
The once prideful woman knew that was the last words her boy should utter. She eased out of his overtaxed hole, shushing him and holding on to that sweet little mewl for dear life. She took off the harness, aware of the soldier waiting. The woman would cuddle up for now, letting the soldier gather her up in his warm embrace. She snuggled tight, imprinting this moment into her soul.
His breath petered out into slow puff, mumbling ‘love you’ sleepily. The Komandir slid from his embrace, padding to the kitchen. Her heart was eerily calm. She knew this had to occur for the greatest creation of Hydra to rise above. His pain would fuel the fire of the future.
She scrawled out a letter, sweet as could be, apologizing for everything. The woman knew she deserved death. She wouldn’t make him do it. Ripping off the Hydra insignia necklace she kept on her neck was placed on the letter.
The woman moved the the couch and grabbed the gun. Shift, click, pray for me soldat, pull.
To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.
To the center of the city in the night, waiting for you.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
hello, lovely jade! im not sure if my request got sent to you a few days ago bc i know you weren’t feeling well either so i understand if you haven’t written it (and please, don’t be pressured to do so & i hope you’re feeling so much better now, sweetheart <3). but in case it didn’t get sent, i was requesting a soft morning sex with peter hehe, i love ur fics sm *cries* *sobs*
(pls ignore this if my request actually did get sent to you :>)
Hi baby! sorry this took so long i am feeling much better tysm <3 i love some sleepy soft morning time with peter 🥺 thanks for your request! SMUT WARNING 18+ PLEASE (p in v + prasie (too much praise))
You're already panting. 
Peter shushes you gently. You lie on your side opposite him, mostly useless under his probing touches. 
"Haven't done anything yet," he murmurs teasingly, voice still rasping, thick with sleep. That's not necessarily truthful.
One arm hooked under your neck and the other reaching lower, deft fingers having pushed your underwear to one side, Peter rubs dedicated little circles into your clit, tittering at your twitching and shallow breathing. 
You rub your thighs together, squirming. He abandons your already swollen clit to push against your entrance, fingers gentle in their exploration. 
You wiggle towards him so you can hide your face in his chest. He holds you tightly in one arm, lips pressed to the crown of your head as he slowly pushes his index finger inside you. 
He croons at your heat, your tightness. "How's that, sweetness?"
"More," you plead weakly. 
"Yeah? Get my tired girl ready, should I?" he asks quietly. 
You nod into his chest. He's quick to give into your pleading, opening you up with a second finger. Slowly, so slowly, he pushes in a third, the action dragging out lines of slick. You're too blissed out to care about the mess under your sheets, gasping as he curls his fingers into a soft spot. 
You're tired and already a little dizzied by it all, your sharp exhales coloured in pleasure. Peter laughs under his breath. 
"I got you, bub. Fucking wet already, my needy girl." 
You push your face into his neck. He moves deep but you crave deeper, hand trailing down his big arm, his hip, lower. You search for his cock, find him hardening under the loose material of his boxers, palming him through fabric desperately as Peter's fingers spread wide inside you. You push your hand into his boxers and ghost the tip of your finger down his shaft, feel his dick twitch. 
You giggle. Peter laughs too, pulling his fingers from your cunt carefully. 
"What's funny?" he asks. 
You pull your hand from his boxers to cradle his face, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. 
He smiles. You adore him so much in that moment it makes you laugh again, craning your neck to cadge a kiss. It's messy. He brings his damp hand to your face, the smell of sex only making you that much more desperate for his slow, searching kisses. 
"You wanna turn around?" he asks finally, lust evident underneath all his softness. 
You turn quickly despite your general tiredness and feel excitement bubbling out of you as he pulls you flush to his chest. You twine your fingers through his where his arm is squished beneath you, holding your breath as his free hand works your underwear between your thighs. You hike one of your legs up to give him better access and he kisses your neck, like a thank you. 
You feel the head of his cock rub against your slit. 
"Ready?" he asks. 
You hum. He's a brilliant multitasker; he sets about loving on your neck, scraping little kisses that are sure to leave a mark as he guides his cock into your wetness. You get chills, that first pleasure, moaning as he stretches you out. 
Peter does all the hard work, hips rocking slovenly into your ass. His hand is greedy where it presses into your tummy, grasping the soft flesh there. 
You bring your joined hands to your mouth to kiss his knuckles, wanting to hide the amorous sighs and moans escaping you, almost embarrassed at how easy it was for him to get you this loud. 
Peter mouths lazy, open kisses to your neck as he fucks into you, kind but enough that the slap of your bodies meeting echoes in his messy room. 
You whimper as he finally bottoms out, worse when he grinds his hips into you emphatically. "All full up, dovey?" he asks. 
You nod, turning your head the best you can. He rolls his hips over and over, and you can hardly catch your breath to say, "Uh-huh. So full, so big, Pete." 
His eyes crease as if to say, Flatterer. Still, your confession gets him good. You feel the change in his strokes, the purpose as they move from sloppy to spearing, hand moving from the swell of your tummy to your hips. He rocks your body into his and you help, the two of you performing a familiar dance. His cock brushes against your sweet spot and you squeeze his hand, your cunt tightens around his cock and he squeezes back. 
He falls into pleasure quickly, breaths tight and scratchy as he ruts. His grip on your hip is close to bruising and he has to abandon his slow fucking as he chases his climax. 
You press a kiss to his chin. "Fill me up?" you whisper pleadingly. "Please, Petey." 
He makes a sound so erotic it twists your tummy up and sends warmth to every nerve, moaning your name into the side of your neck as he empties his cum into your heat. 
His hand moves from your hip to your wet clit, struggling to find purchase. He goes slow, keeps his softening cock inside you as he finds your climax, whispering sweet encouragements into your ear. "Gonna cum for me, pretty baby?" and, "You sound so fucking pretty, sound so pretty getting all fucked open," and worst, "Sweet girl, I know you're close. I got you, I got you." 
You're close to tears as you cum, cunt contracting around his cock, thighs tightening as the coil explodes. You take a moment to come down, breathing hard as Peter holds you through it. You feel him twitching inside you in response and look at him through glassy eyes hopefully. 
He looks tired but pleased. "You want another go?" he asks lightly. You beam, and he cradles your face as he says, "And isn't that the face of a girl who gets everything she wants? On your front, then." 
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asimpforthe80s · 5 months
Text
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Shouldn't Be Attracted To A Criminal..
Starring: Eddie Munson and Murderer!Y/N
Warning: mentions of murder. Drugs. Prison escapee Y/N. Falling in love with a criminal. Kinda short.
Part 2
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You had just escaped prison and were on the run. Eddie was waiting for his client in the woods as he heard a rustling in a bush. "Who's there?" He asked, standing up. "Chrissy?" He yelled out, not knowing who was there. He walked over to the bush and saw you, covered in dirt and a little blood. Leaves in your long black hair and scratches on your pink cheeks. You wore a prison uniform. Shit, he thought as he backed up slowly.
You jumped out of the bushes, threatening him with a knife in your hands. "Scream and you're dead, hear me?" Your voice was quiet.
"Woah, woah, woah!!" Eddie said as he held up his hands. "Let's calm down here, alright? No one has to get hurt." He said in a calm voice. "That's right. No one needs to get hurt. So shut up, don't yell, and don't you fucking dare call no one." You walked closer to him, holding your knife tighter in your hands. Eddie tried to move backwards, not wanting to make her mad. "Look, look, I don't have a cell phone. I'm not going to call anyone. Please, just put the knife down." Eddie said in a shaky voice, his eyes darting around nervously. You looked around, searching the area for anyone who might see or hear you. "You waiting for anyone? Is anyone going to come here?"
"No, no one is coming. I swear." Eddie said. "No one is coming. I swear." He said, hoping she would believe him, even though he was lying. "You're only telling me lies, I know it." You held your knife a little tighter and took your free hand to your pocket. "Who. Is. Coming." You said in a harsh tone. Eddie looked down at the ground, feeling trapped now. He was scared of her. "Look, you're right, im lying. I'm waiting for my client. I sell drugs." He looked up at her, his big, brown eyes pleading for mercy. "Okay then. Who is this client of yours?"
"Her name is Chrissy Cunningham. She's wearing a cheerleader uniform." Eddie said. "She's meeting me here so I can give her some cocaine." Eddie said, praying that she would just rob him and not kill him. "When is this 'Chrissy' supposed to meet you here."
"She was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago." Eddie said. "I don't know what's taking so long." He said, glancing at his watch. "Got a car? Van? Motorcycle? Anything?"
"Yeah, I have my van over there, across that clearing. Why do you ask?" He said, pointing towards the clearing. "Need a getaway."
"Heyyyy, wait. Don't get any ideas. I like my van. You can't steal my van! How the hell am I gonna sell my drugs without my van?" Eddie asked. "Goddamnit, people these days." You muttered. Eddie laughed nervously, trying to keep the situation light. "I'm just saying, that van cost me 30 grand, and if you think I'm just gonna let you take it, you gotta be crazy. I make all of my money in that van." He said.
You thought for a few minutes, not saying a word. Eddie stayed quiet, hoping that she wouldn't actually try to steal his van. He didn't know if he could stop her, if she decided to do it. He stood there waiting for her to respond. "Hey, what about you stay at my place instead?" You snapped out of your trance. "What- are you crazy? What if the police come?!" Eddie laughed nervously, "The police aren't gonna come. I know for a fact that no one even knows where I am. The police probably aren't even looking for me yet. And look, if you come with me to my cabin in the woods, I'll share some of the profits from my drug business with you." He said, trying to sweeten the deal.
"Dude.. you're already doing too much by letting me stay at your place, I don't need no money." You reassured him. "Just come with me, I know it seems sketchy, but I promise it's safe." Eddie said. "The place is kinda run down, but it's warm. I just live by myself out there, I don't have a lot of furniture, but I've got a bed and a tv, and a couch." He said, still trying to convince her to come with him, just so he could get his van back. "Huh.. you're quite a weird fellow." You chuckled. "But, fine.. I'll take your offer on lettin' me stay." Eddie sighed in relief. "Thank god, yes! Thank god. Let's get going." He said, starting to head towards his van. He was weird for letting you - a mass murderer - stay with him for no reason.
You followed him back to the white van parked in the clearing. Eddie climbed into the driver seat. "Alright, hop in!" He said, motioning towards the passenger seat. You hopped into the passenger seat. The van smelled like cocaine and tobacco. He started up the van and started driving towards his cabin in the woods. "Hey, what's your name, by the way?" He asked as he drove. "Name's Y/N.. if you tell anyone who I am and where I am, you're dead to me.. and most likely dead in general.."
"No worries of that, I'm not a rat. My name's Eddie." He said. "Nice to meet you Y/N." He put his hand out to shake your hand. "I hope you won't kill me in my sleep later on, hahaha." He laughed. You laughed. "No promises!" You paused. "Nah man, just kiddin' with ya." Eddie laughed nervously, hoping she was joking. "Heh, you better be." He said, chuckling. As he drove along the dirt road through the woods, Eddie started to relax a bit as they were getting closer to his cabin. He hoped you wouldn't try to murder him. "Yeah, I'm joking.. don't worry.. it sounds sketchy, but so does letting a murderer stay in your cabin in the middle of nowhere, so we're even?"
"Yeah, I guess you could put it like that." Eddie said, still feeling a little uncomfortable. "I swear, if you kill me in this van, I'm going to be so pissed haha." He chuckled, looking over at you to see your reaction. You laughed. "You can check me if ya want, but I ain't got no knife on me." Eddie chuckled as well, as he parked the van in front of a small cabin in the woods. "We're here." He said, getting out of the car. As he walked over to the front door, he opened it up. "I told you my place was a little run down, but it's got everything you need." He said with a shrug. "Ooh, nice tho.." you said and got out.
"Well, come in, come on in." Eddie said, inviting you inside. The cabin looked to be about 30 or 40 years old. The paint was fading, and in some areas it was chipped away all together. The furniture was old, with wear and tear, some of it in need of a replacement. "So whatdya think?" He asked. "Looks nice to be this old.. got any spare clothes? Walkin' 'round in a prison uniform isn't good.."
"Yeah, I can find some clothes for you. What size?" Eddie asked. He started walking upstairs. "You can hang out up there, and I will get you some new clothes. Make yourself at home, alright?" He said as he climbed the stairs towards his bedroom. "Yeah, I don't care about the size, tho.." You smiled a little, feeling an unfamiliar warmth. "Alright." Eddie said as he walked into his room. He started rummaging around until he found a shirt, pair of jeans, and a hoodie that would fit you. "Here." He said, heading back downstairs. "You can change in the bathroom if you want." Eddie said as he gave you the clothes.
"Thanks, man." Walking over to the bathroom, you smiled, feeling that weird warmth inside you again. What was this? Why did you suddenly feel like this around him? It was weird. You thought as you changed. The scent of him still on the clothes made your head spin. Fuck, did you like him? You got nervous as you walked out to him again. The clothes were a little too big, but you liked it better that way anyway.
Eddie blushed a little as he looked you up and down. He didn't expect you to look so good outside of those prison clothes. "Huh, those are pretty big on you. Are you comfy in there?" He asked, trying not to look at... certain areas. "Yeah, I kinda like it.." You tried your best to ignore the feelings you felt around him. It was intoxicating to you. You hated that you loved it.
As Eddie looked at you, he couldn't help but notice your lips, how soft they looked. "Uhm, yeah, I'm just gonna take a shower really quickly. You, uh, go ahead and look around, but just don't touch anything, ok? I'll be out here if you need anything." Eddie said as he began to walk towards the bathroom. He was really nervous now, and this time it wasn't because you were a dangerous criminal. "Yep, got it." You smiled and sat down.
Eddie took a deep breath before walking through the door to the bathroom. As soon as it closed behind him, he screamed out in frustration. "Why the hell is she so beautiful?" He muttered under his breath as he turned the water on and began to strip his clothes off. "I shouldn't be attracted to a dangerous criminal like her, but damn she's perfect."
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Tell me if y'all want a pt.2!
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kitten4sannie · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐲’𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 (𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫)
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part 1
Ex Boyfriend! Wooyoung x Afab! Reader
Genre: smut, angstttttt
Summary: After having a pleasant night out with your friend, seeing Wooyoung’s name pop up on your phone almost made you scream. You knew that even if you had ignored his call, he would just keep calling you back, so you gave in — just like every other time. 
W.C: ???
Warnings: exes with benefits, switch! Wooyoung (yes you read that right 🥵), switch! reader, weed use, Wooyoung’s still a dick, toxicity, lots of swearing, there are feelings involved (that’s as descriptive as i’ll get ;;), name calling, degradation, use of the word “baby”, dirty talk, messy blowjob, deep throating, brief cum play, face riding, manhandling, rough/passionate (unprotected) sex, choking, spit play, multiple positions, kissing, squirting, multiple orgasms 
A/N: i am literally SO excited for you all to read the full thing, like I can barely contain myself 😭 i’m sorry the teaser is so short! i just can’t bring myself to spoil anything else ;; i'll be posting the full thing on november 30th!
Masterlist
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“Byeee, get home safe!” you called out to your friend, watching as she opened her car door and craned her neck back to look at you, giving you a small smile and a peace sign. You repeated her actions, waiting for her to get into her car, before you followed suit. 
Once you got situated inside your own car, you unlocked your phone to set up a queue of songs for your drive home, almost throwing it onto the dash when you saw Wooyoung’s name pop on your screen. “Awesome,” you mumbled to yourself, bringing your thumb and index finger up to squeeze the bridge of your nose, sighing in dismay. 
You sat there with your phone buzzing against your hand for a few seconds, ears zoning in on the sound of your heart racing inside your chest. “Fuck, okay.” You leaned your head back against the headrest and reluctantly answered his call, snapping, “Let me guess, you want me to come over, right? And you’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” 
“Mm, you’re already wound up all nice and tight for me, huh?” your ex returned in a low voice, unable to see the way you were gripping your thigh with your free hand. “I like that.” 
You let out an ‘augh’ sound, as if you were disgusted, making an attempt to bring him down a peg or two. “Of course you would. Your life must be really sad if you get turned on just by the thought of arguing with me.” 
“Yours must be even worse since you’re always willing to become an obedient little cumdump for me,” he replied swiftly, chuckling when he didn’t get a response, except for a small gasp on your end. “I’ll see you soon, y/n.”
Hearing Wooyoung simply hang up the call after what he had said should’ve made you mad, but it almost had the exact opposite effect on you — once again proving that the both of you were one and the same. Quietly ignoring the butterflies that were trying to escape your stomach, you pressed on a random song in your playlist and put your car in reverse, not even noticing when your lips curled into a small smile. 
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Tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cloudysannie @aryraaaa @za-con @cosmiczen @choerryge @aikyubi @arusio @gueritaybonita @i-l0v3hands @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @jexidamulti @as-she-pleases @purplechannie @lilactiny @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @cherryxsang @namsloverr @chanst1ddies @woo-stars @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @fairyoftaehyun @bls-luv-me @lavanyasingh04 @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @mork-ly @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @merciluv-blog @atzcrime @lovekeeho @sup-dallyboy @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @leoncito1503  @ilyj1n
im sorry that i couldn’t tag some of you (im not sure how to fix that ;;)
Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡
© toxicccred, 2022.
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selineram3421 · 1 year
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Hello!!! I saw you do a lot of Alastor requests (which Im highly grateful for)
I was wondering if you could do one for when idk Y/N or basically a new person drops in hell they met most of the HH cast except for Alastor but right before they meet for the first time they were listening to Video Killed the Radio Star and singing to it (on and off)
How would you think Alastor would react?
Most of my request have been for him lol.
Installing the Disco Ball
Alastor & Reader Oneshot
~
You were running from the music store, holding onto the cassette player you recently stole. Also a bag with a bunch of cassette tapes.
"Hey! You're not getting away from me you piece of shit!", you hear the shop owner shout.
Why do they even care about this stuff? They're getting more money by selling CDs. You thought as you ran, turning at a corner. Uh oh-
A dead end.
Staring at the brick wall for a moment, you look around to see if there's something you can climb to escape.
"Nowhere to run now.", the person you were running from says, blocking the exit.
"Ya know, you sound like a greaser from one of those old movies. Where they are about to jump somebody.", you say, turning to face them. "Can I just get a slap on the wrist?", you shrug.
They pull out a bat.
"So that's a no..", you mumble.
Next thing you know, you're plummeting down into Hell.
Yeah, that hurt.
Upside is that the cassette player you stole was still on you! Looking through your pockets you also find cassettes. Score.
After walking around for a while, you find a flyer that says hotel with vacant rooms and no pay. Its covered in highlighter and glitter.
"Hmm..kinda shady but I'm sold with the glitter.", you tell yourself and start walking.
You knock on the double doors with a rhythm, then remember this is a hotel. So that's a weird thing to do..
"We don't want your fucking brownies!", a demon with long white hair yells out as they yank the door open.
Blink blink.
"Um, I don't have brownies..", you say and lift up the pink flyer. "I do have this flyer though, am I at the right place?", you ask, shaking the paper and glitter falling from it.
"Oh, yeah.", she answers and moves to the side for you to enter. "Come on in."
Once inside, you're greeted by a very bubbly blonde.
"Hi! Welcome to the Happy Hotel!", she says with a wide smile and bounces in place. "You're going to love your stay here!"
"Cool.", you say. "I just died so I had no idea where to go, then I saw glitter.", you hold up the flyer.
The blonde squeals and the white haired demon just sighs. After proper introductions, the two show you around the hotel. (Or at least the almost finished rooms.) Then you're led into an office. You ended up working at the hotel and got a free room.
Not double dead, got a job, and living somewhere for free!
It was a win in your book.
.
Eventually you got headphones for the cassette player and had them on most of the time. You've met the other demon in the hotel while listening to music. A really fluffy spider demon.
Today you had gone shopping for two specific cassette tapes. Don't Stop Believing by Journey and Video Killed The Radio Star by The Buggles. Also a few Daft Punk ones.
You kinda had to almost kill someone for them but you were able to get them! Yay!
Going back to the hotel, you go up to finish installing the disco ball that Charlie wanted in the "ball room." It was just a big open space with a stage. After getting your tools, you set up the latter and put on your headset. Fully immersed in your work and the music, you didn't hear anything.
Not even the whole musical number going on in the lobby with the Radio Demon, or the hole caused by Sir Pentious.
Safety glasses were on and you had a head light on to be able to see what you were doing.
They took the credit for your second symphony
You sang along as you got a screw from the box on top of your stomach. Kinda in a weird position but hey, it worked.
Rewritten by machine and new technology
And now I understand the problems you can see
Mumbling the lyrics, you kept working on the base of the contraption that would lower the disco ball. You hummed the rest and didn't hear the doors open.
.
Alastor had offered to make jambalaya for everyone after getting rid of the annoying snake demon. Getting ready to walk into the kitchen.
That is until the princess stopped him.
"Um, I hope you can make enough for everyone.", she says.
"Why of course! It would be terrible not to!", he smiles and does a quick head count. "Six servings, and a little more for extra."
"Seven.", Charlie says, putting up a finger.
"Oh?", the Radio Demon hums.
"They have a tendency to work with their headphones on and its probably why we haven't seen them today.", she shrugs apologetically. "They are in the ball room if you want to meet them."
"That's good to know.", he says and thinks it over for a moment. "Very well, I shall introduce myself before making the meal."
He now stood in front of the double doors of the ball room and pushed them open.
"Hello!"
.
The best part was coming up and you were almost done with the whole base! All you had left to do was to attach the wire and the disco ball.
In my mind and in my car
We can't rewind, we've gone too far
Oh-a-aho oh. Oh-a-aho oh.
That little bit of instrumental played and you kinda shimmied. Not too much or else your tools would fall.
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
In my mind and in my car
We can't rewind, we've gone too far
Pictures came and broke your heart
You were too gone into the music to notice the growing static coming from behind you.
Put the blame on VCR!
Then the latter wobbled, making you get out of your weird position.
You are the radio star. You are the radio star. Video killed-
The song continued.
"Whoa!", you yelp as you lose hold of the dang thing and close your eyes as you began falling.
No hard landing but whatever caught you felt weird.
"Oof!", you let out, eyes still shut tight.
The headphones were slid off of your ears and left on your neck. Opening your eyes and looking up, you see a pair of glowing red eyes. The volume was loud enough for the both of you to hear the music.
Video killed the radio star. Video killed the radio star. Video killed the radio star. Video killed the radio star. Video-
You didn't notice when the man grabbed your cassette player until he lifted it up and pressed the pause button, stopping the music.
"Now that I have your attention and ceased that terrible song.", he sets you down, but doesn't give back your music player. "I am Alastor. The Radio Demon.", he emphasizes the last bit.
You blinked up at the red man. Looking to your cassette and then back at him a few times.
"Hey..", you wave and reach for your cassette player. "Can I just get this back-"
He moves it out of your reach.
"May I have your name? Hm?", he says with a grin.
You tell him your name, not letting up on reaching for the source of your jams.
"Gimme my-", you almost touch it but get twirled into a dip. "Whoop-!", you say in surprise, clutching onto the man's coat with one hand.
"Would you be so kind to tell me why you're listening to such a song?", he says, still smiling.
The cassette player is between both of your interlocked hands, music still paused.
"Its a favorite?", you shrug, eyes to the cassette before looking back at the red man. "Kinda ironic since I still like to listen to the radio."
That's all it took for you to be spun back into standing.
"How splendid! Not really my cup of coffee due to the lyrics, but music is music.", he laughs, dusting you off. "I have a request though."
Fingers hold your chin and tilt your head up, now in eye contact with the Radio Demon. He leans in closer to your face, staring right into your eyes.
"Don't play it around me."
You nod, a bit flustered and dumbfounded at how this guy is just ok with being super close.
"Good!", he says pulling away. "Now! I'm making jambalaya for everyone. I hope you can handle a little spice!", he goes on talking as he makes his way back over to the doors.
You stand there for a bit trying to process everything as he leaves the room with a wave.
"Ok...", you say and shake your head.
Turning around, you see the latter not on the floor but still standing up.
. . . .
Patting your pockets after feeling your hands empty, you realize that he took your cassette player along with him.
"That jerk!", you gasp.
~
This version of the reader is just done with everything and just vibes now. Mood.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@ducky-is-dead-inside @stolas-thebirb @c4rved-pumpk1n
ML for Alastor🎙
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