Tumgik
#there were so many characters that changed nothing for being there or were there just as plot devices/fanservice
ganondoodle · 2 days
Text
sorry i keep coming back to totk rants, but something that utterly baffles me from a game design perspective especially is
who, in their right mind, would think to put similar objectives with the same characters in the EXACT same place as its previous game when already reusing the same exact map (no, single rocks springkled around isnt a meaningful change, fight me)
like from a purely logical point of view its just ... not logical?? and TWICE so when most players will have played the previous game, so now that the exploration, which was the main driving point of it, isnt as satisfying simply bc you know most locations and what is what, the thing you need to do is subvert it as in you go to that location and theres something else now or something that leads to a new reveal, but not NOTHING either, bc you likely cared about what youd find- the satori mountain was such a cool mysterious place, so now you head to it to see what is now and its nothing but maybe an obvious treasure chest? thats both lazy (i realy use that since its way overused by people missusing it) and just ... it might be meant as a lil nod so that there isnt nothing at all but to me it feels even more condescending as if there were literally nothing instead
satori isnt here anymore? thats weird if its always been there, so you go find a cause, maybe theres a fissure somewhere you can enter a large cave system, an hidden entrance to the underground that reveals there is something corrupting the place somwhere nearby but not exactly in the same spot- make it into a bossfight at which end satori gets cleansed- maybe it got captured and taken somewhere else, to a place that was kinda neat but didint serve a big fucntion in botw like maybe it was dragged somwhere into the big tabantha canyon, or to the forgotten temple
you try to visit rito village but the snow and cold there got so bad that you cant even reach it without special gear, and when you do reach it its utterly frozen in thick ice and not a single soul is there, the perch of vah medoh is knocked over building a bridge as a subtle hint as to in what direction perhaps, its intriguing bc clearly they have to be SOMEWHERE, maybe they tried to use vah medoh to evacuate but bc its losing power and doesnt have a skilled pilot they crash land it into the mountains, now trapped there and due to the storm not able to send anyone out to get help, maybe some did but they didnt make it and you can find them on your way and rescue them, and bc of the storm being so bad no one can get out and no one can get in (except for our special boi linky ofc) and even after the storm has weakened they dont immediately go back and act like everythings normal, maybe theres an extra mission afterwards helping them rebuild the village but not exactly the same as it was but fortified, different to account for things like this happening again, establishing the crashsite of vah medoh as a second outpost, or a temple, to thank it for bringing them out of immedaite danger but couldnt go all the way
theres so many places that are so clearly modeled around botw that are entirely unused now bc they had to remove all things shiekah for no reason, the holes they left jsut being holes where somethings clearly missing or some chest with a gem in it while the new shrine thing is within view distance a few meters away, might as well have put them in the exact same place bc it really doesnt make a difference
(like alot of those ideas im using for the rewrite which changes many things but you get the point right??)
and its even worse imo with the building stuff, bc now you dont even have to journey there you can fly glide and literally drive there instantly like a giant skip button so you cant even appreaciate the way to it, you skip to one important part to the next
and then points of interest are REPEATED AGAIN, like with shrines and lightroots and settlements and big mines- that is the opposite of satisfying gameplay, you dont have to explore shit bc its all in the same place which is probably why they only did tiny changes to those few spots and nothing else bc they knew most people would run right to those so it gives the illusion of changes (which are half reversable or barely a change at all) and even those are STILL meaningless
its right up there with having even MORE grind with less substance to it than in botw, the shrines and krogs got a lil old but at least the environment, its subtle storytelling etc were something- and totk just bloated everything with more little meaningless collectables while not changing anything meaningfully (and instead pretends that some things where never there and those new boring things were always there)
more shriens with shorter puzzles or none at all, more krogs with the same reward system, over a hundred tiny caves that all blend together bc they are all so similar and you really only do them for yet another colelctable for old gear and ONE cool new one with a bad effect after which the things collected become uselessreally, souls to collect to buy you a single armor set, rewards being largley reused old stuff from botw (imo you should have a chest in your house, yes YOUR house, that got most of the standard versions of botws armor in it so you dont have to buy it all again??? but you gotta think of going home first and dont have to use it- make new versions of them alternatively so you can choose if you want the old one or new one and also LEAVE ONE AT YOUR HOUSE WITHOUT HAVING TO SELL IT SO YOUT INVENTORY ISNT AS ENDLESSLY SCROLLING AS YOUR STUPID ARROW BAR)
theres new effects from food and armor thats largely useless (like the attack when hot?? why wouldnt you you jsut combine an armor and a potion- put on hot armor and drink an attack potion? its way more efficient no?? idk i found it to be yet another effect thing to bloat my inventory especially when NPCs keep giving you shitty effect food)
the whole sonanium (zonaite?) collecting with multiple ways to convert it into yet another currency??? huh???? AND have it be the thing for you to autobuild with?? when you need it upgrade your battery which takes an insane amount of those stones?? wells, while finally an actual well are NOW ALSO LIKE A COLLECTABLE and im gonna take a wild guess that the reward is utterly disappointing too
the fairies are all blocked by much more annoying means than in botw (like i wouldnt want to carry those NPCs three meters away in their little cart antoehr time please) and the amount of material AND MONEY NOW you need is so much higher for no reason (if its their attempt to make the game harder its the lamest way to do it)-
all while instead of expanding on the foundation of botw they ripped it out to build a new one while pretending they are both there (im so so slaty about this .... a sequel like this should expand upon the stuff of the first game, both in theme, narrative, mechanics and more and not ... replace it with slightly different versions of it while abandoning everything established before and really only using it as a way to skip having to make you care about some characters bc you might still care about them from the other game)
i could go on, as always lol, anyway, i really really dont get why this got into the final game ..
80 notes · View notes
muffinrecord · 14 hours
Text
I've been pretty positive about Yuu so far, but watching her magical girl story... hmm.
Basically I like everything about Yuu, but man that serial killer bit is the only thing that really sticks out as an overt bad choice. Having Nagisa stand around and watch Yuu kill people is such a weird choice, it feels more like fanfic than actual canon. Like this doesn't feel like something that could happen in Magia Record-- or hell, even in Madoka Magica either.
For example, Sayaka has a scene on a train where some dudes are being sexist assholes and it's left up to the viewer to decide if she kills them or not. It doesn't go: Sayaka killed them and also they were calling out for help the entire time while Madoka watched you know?
That said, this is something I can see in a bunch of the spinoffs (Kazumi, Oriko, Suzune), but I think everyone agrees that the spinoffs are of dubious quality. I love me the spinoffs but they're a hot mess.
I dunno. It's one thing to know that Yuu is a serial killer, it's another thing to have a character watch her go around and kill people and not intervene in any way. Especially in a story that goes out of its way to not do that. Walpy hitting Kamihama is noted to have no causalities at all (which goes a little too far in the other direction imo but it is what it is), Suzune isn't able to kill anyone in Kamihama and is dealt with by kicking her out (and not killing her), the deaths in arc 2 are mostly accidental and have massive consequences, everyone is forgiven in the end-- this isn't a story that really has "watch someone kill people and do nothing" in it's cards, you know?
I actually liked Nagisa's Wish for a lot of things. For example, I like that Nagisa didn't think she could be a magical girl until she saw Yuu, because she assumed that magical girls had to be good people-- aka, Nagisa did not think she was good. But that's not because Nagisa is a bad person. Nagisa is just unloved, and since she's a young kid, she's internalized that to mean that something is wrong with her, not that something is wrong with her mom. It's heartbreaking to see her go from "I can't be a magical girl," to seeing Yuu the murderer, to then going "oh okay if she can be a magical girl then so can I." Like sweet pea, your mother not loving you is not the same as being a killer. You've done nothing wrong. You are not a bad person for having Feelings and Emotions about the neglect you are experiencing.
However the serial killer/organ seller bit just goes too far for me and it kind of overshadows a lot of the better ideas present in Nagisa's Wish. Like how can you focus on the interesting ideas about justice or self worth when there is a serial killer/organ stealer walking around.
I think that the best qualities of Yuu are her design and how creepy she is-- having her actually go all the way and be a serial killer/organ seller actually makes her less creepy in my opinion. Yada yada, less is more, leave it up to the viewer's imagination. If she was just off, if we just knew that something was wrong with her and that people are disappearing but it's not outright stated what she's doing... I dunno. That would make her a lot more scary to me. A lot of fear can be found in apprehension and outright telling all the details will fill in too many gaps.
Like, the things that we all like about Yuu would be her voice direction, her memory issues, the way her Live2D is designed to be slightly off kilter from everyone else, the gap between her attitude and the darkness she engages in, the weird weaponry she uses and how it changes the way she walks/moves-- all of this is effective because it is offputting and different, not because the narrative is telling us "hey she kills people and sells their organs."
Basically I really love Yuu, but I do have some criticisms for her character and I understand why some folks don't like her.
That said, it did lead to this fantastic line from Kyubey so like,
Tumblr media
You take some, you lose some.
40 notes · View notes
soldirboy · 1 day
Text
PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT
Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love
Word Count: 2113
A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard
Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.
The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.
At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.
All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.
Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.
You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.
“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”
You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.
The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.
Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”
“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”
“What things?”
“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”
Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.
Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”
It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.
“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.
Fuck Butcher.
“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”
“Course I am.”
Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.
You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”
“No.”
Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”
“Worse.”
You felt his posture suddenly got serious.
“How?”
“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”
“What happens if you see them though?”
“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."
The way he sounded made you even more curious.
“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.
Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.
“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”
“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.
Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.
“Jealous?”
Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?
Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”
With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.
“I dont understand what you mean at all.”
“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.
You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.
Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.
Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.
“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.
You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.
As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”
His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.
He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.
“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.
You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.
You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.
“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.
You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”
“Don’t fucking provoke me.”
“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”
Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.
A/N: I'm not built for this.
22 notes · View notes
houseofpendragons · 2 days
Text
New Ideas for HOTD Fashion pt.4
This one’s a little different, considering we’re also going to include Alicent in this little change of costumes 😊
So exhibit A:
Tumblr media
The Blue Dress and the Gold. How many times have we seen those now??? Time for a little change. Not only are these the outfits they were when Rhaenyra calls Alicent a WHORE💀 but it’s also the scene where it is revealed that Alicent will be betrothed to Viserys…not long after their appropriate period of grieving had ended.
I feel like Rhaenyra is not entirely out of her grieving period (bc why should she be) and it might be reflected in her clothes with darker tones. Now I don’t imagine her in complete darkness but with some gold peaking through around the sleeves and the neckline, not the complete gold that she wore in the beginning when she was but an innocent child but enough to show a start of an internal struggle. The bits of red could also be a show of her start into maturity and her beginning to take her role as heir more seriously. By having just small amounts of the gold and red that almost seems overshadowed by the seemingly Targaryen black could be a symbol of her standing on the line between her innocence and her duty, being tugged this way and that by her grief. Bc make no mistake she is still in grief, now not only for her mother but in the scene she begins to grieve the loss of Alicent as well. Now Alicent may not be dead but what Rhaenyra deems as her BEST FRIENDS betrayal is far worse than death in her eyes.
As for Alicent she is bordering on (forced) maturity. She’s been subtly flirting and playing the game of courtship, she’s been wearing more of her mothers dresses, but at the end of the day she’s just a little girl and she’s sad as hell and anxious and distraught in both scenes. That could be reflected in many ways, perhaps by her wearing another one of her mother’s dresses but perhaps one of a lighter color as Alicent clings to her innocence that is being stolen away. Green embroidery or a dark velvet green border as a symbol of marriage and motherhood creeping in at the seems to swallow her whole :
Tumblr media
These dresses are exactly what I in-vision, the subtle symbolism you can find or weave into these dresses for the moment they are worn speaks volumes. When I see a costume I want it to reflect a character and what they’re going through, their personality, bc a lot of people express themselves through their clothes.
The jewelry would obviously have to change a bit, Rhaenyra was currently not wearing the necklace Daemon had gifted her after he stole Baelon’s egg, and Alicent needs a necklace as well.
For Rhaenyra’s necklace I would make it a combination of these two:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I like the gold as it matches her earrings, as does the rubies, but I also like the symbolism that could be created by adding the diamond as the final hanging gem. A diamond that reflects as it catches the light. Like tears shed and unshed that had and will soon fall down her cheeks.
And with Alicent, I’d expect the same symbolism. Blue fading to green, innocence fading to maturity, a candle turning into a blaze, a Lady becoming a Queen:
Tumblr media
(And her earrings could be much the same, with one being a blue and one being a green)
And lastly the hairrr👩‍🦳
For Rhaenyra I imagine something like this:
Tumblr media
Nothing too out there, but beautiful and fitting. It would keep it out of her face whilst still holding the beauty of the Targaryen braid and letting her hair flow down straight and free. Combination of kept and free. Rhaenyra has freedom, in her cage.
Alicent was a little more tricky bc I wanted something that was simple, not too regal yet, and still more of her usual style that we saw in her younger years. I stumbled on this:
Tumblr media
I like the braided crown, a symbol of the future crown that will come to rest on her head as Queen. I also love that Helaena wears this in her hair, and I like that maybe she stole it from her mother bc she remembers her wearing her hair like that when she was younger. And whilst we have seen Alicent with a braided crown before, this one was more prominent and pulled more forward like an actual crown.
Alright that’s all I’ve got for the outfits in that real and deleted scene between Alicent and Rhaenyra. I’m sure I’ll find more I’d like to see a little differently. I know it won’t change the costumes but hey it’ll give me a little something more to picture in my mind
23 notes · View notes
catmelonwriting · 2 days
Text
Sucking off big brother!Fyodor
Tumblr media
Warnings: Incest, this is written terribly, toxic!Fyodor, fem reader
Characters: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Translations: малышка = little girl
A/N: idk I have so many prompts I'm supposed to be writing and want to be writing but I just don't jave the energy I'm hoping this will wet my appetite or wtv
You lay lazily on the bed half asleep, It was mid July, and the heat was making you drowsy. You were supposed to be reading due to your brothets orders, but gave up & into your fatigue, resting on your bed in your day clothes, not even bothering to change. You were suddenly startled awake by a scoff and Fyodor speaking. "Clean up this room, малышка. It's disgusting in here."
His voice was degrading and he stared down at you with a glare. Your room wasn't even that bad! Just some clothes lying around, but to be fair.. he did own the house. "I don't wanna..." You groan, your voice was raspy. Your eyes flutter open to Fyodor standing directly above you, his hand resting on your bed frame.
"You don't have a choice, малышка." Fyodor smirked, knowing how much you hated being called that. It made you feel small, and weak, but no matter how much you told him you hated it, he kept going. "Clean up now, or I will make you regret it."
"Make me regret it if you're so tough, then." You grin, sitting up and crossing your legs, placing your elbow on your knee and your cheek in the palm of your hand. "If you don't clean this room within the hour, you'll be doing something much more unpleasant."
His eyes narrowed and you grin. "Awh, tell me, exactly what will I be doing?" You'd always had an attraction towards him, and he's known. You'd expect him to be disgusted by it, but.. "You'll be sucking my cock until I'm satisfied, малышка." He said casually, as if it were nothing. "And trust me, I won't be gentle about it."
Your stomach flutters, and despite the disgust and fear you felt.. you couldn't help the arousal that dripped from your hole. You needed to appear confident, and unbothered. You hated Fyodor seeing you as weak. "Aw, well maybe I'd prefer that." You grin, dropping to your knees in front of him.
Fyodor raised an eyebrow, surprised by your sudden change in attitude. He stepped closer, allowing you access to his pants. As you undid his belt and pulled down his pants, revealing his hard cock, he couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal. He grabbed your hair, guiding her head towards his member.
All you could do was giggle, giving a tiny little kitten lick to the tip of his dick, dragging out a hitched breath from him. You do nothing more for a minute, only kissing and licking the tip, before he grew impatient.
He huffs, before he yanks your head back by her hair, forcing you to take him in. You gagged as he filled your mouth, the pain causing small tears to well up in your eyes that you immediately blink away. He began thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth roughly, enjoying the sensation of the warm wetness of your mouth enveloping him.
You moaned onto his dick, licking a fat strip up the bottom of his shaft as he face fucked you, letting the tears fall only because you knew how much he loved reducing you to a crying mess.
"Ah.. you're so good at this, myshka. Keep going, go on." He groans, drawing your attention up to him, he loved how pathetic you looked down on the floor, tears falling from your eyes, ruining your mascara. As his climax neared, you felt his thrusts get sloppier and harder till his hot cum filled your mouth.
He pulls out, tapping your mouth so you stick your tongue out. Proof you swallowed, of course. "Good girl.." he drawls out, looking at you with that sadistic smile he always has. "Now, I guess I should repay the favor now, hm?" He smiles, crouching down in front of you.
50 notes · View notes
lonely--seeker · 1 year
Text
Saw op red film today and firstly, I enjoyed the movie, really did. Secondly tho, why do I feel there was so much, so much, potential lost?? Can I trust fanfiction will fix this?
31 notes · View notes
thebicanary · 5 months
Text
.
#in tags cos I'm not tryna start disk horse I just feel like ranting a bit about it cos it annoys me ahsmdhsbsgd#i'm tired of the prevalent attitude in a lot of RPG video game fandoms that men VAs suck and deserve to be ridiculed for no reason ahrbdgdgd#like it's been going on for so many years i'm tired i'm over it i'm done#having a preference for the female VAs and character options is fine lord knows i prefer to play them myself#but like mark meer??? gavin drea??? aren't bad actors???#it's a different performance and interpretation but like they're at worst FINE (but also actually good)#even in games where i have a very big preference for the female VA (ac odyssey and valhalla) the guy is still good???#i'm not big into alexios or meivor but i think their performances as deimos and odin respectively are brilliant for those stories#(and that's really a flaw in the fact they were not supposed to be main character options originally and were rewritten for that)#(so it's not on the VAs but ubisoft being dumbasses who fear making a woman the sole protagonist)#ANYWAY i know it's not that serious but it's so weird seeing people in tags on a certain post being so... nasty#about people they don't know and who afiak have been nothing but kind and appreciative of their fandoms#thank fuck honestly that bg3 doesn't have full voiced Tavs/Durges cos i know people would be freaks about the guys there too#also in games as big as these massive RPGs it's rarely just one voice director for the whole project#so a lot of the times a big reason these voice performances are very different is they're likely being directed by different people#sometimes different directors for different scenes so like. there's a lot of things that can change from page to performance because of that
3 notes · View notes
afieldinengland · 2 years
Text
thinking about peter cushing’s obviously deep, meticulous, and enthusiastic interest in the character of victor frankenstein as a doctor
#it’s everything. i don’t think there’s ever been another actor as meticulous as peter cushing…. i don’t think there could be now#the job of actor itself has changed. but every interview where he discusses playing the baron— every move and handling of an instrument was#studied. he joked his gp used to love it when he rang because he knew he wasn’t ill he just wanted to know how to take a brain out#he said something about if there happened to be a doctor in the audience he didn’t want them to spot him handling his scalpel etc#incorrectly— and i mean rightly so the baron is meant to be a surgeon above all surgeons after all— but that level of study and seriousness#is unparalleled i think. his approach to van helsing and sherlock holmes was very similiar— i imagine it was the same to all characters#honestly. he used to learn everyone’s lines not just his#but it brings something so unique and fascinating to hammer’s depiction of victor frankenstein. as someone who’ll probably always be a#little obsessed with the man. adding things like the janus-faced nature of the ‘bedside manner’ and the reputation of ‘the good doctor’#where they never featured in shelley’s original novel— i’m saying nothing new here but hammer’s victor has always#struck me as an extrapolation of what would happen if victor was stripped of his human limiting factors.#remorse. love. a family. mortality. and my points here are probably linked most to#the revenge of frankenstein (1958) but i think it applies in general.#but yes. i wish there were more surviving interviews of cushing discussing his relationship to ‘old frankenstein’ as he called him.#especially since surgery etc was coming on leaps and bounds at the time the films were being made— 50s > 70s is a long time in medicine#and he spoke about things like organ transplants with such fascination…. there’s a brain transplant in so many of the films of course#it does make you wonder. some things now would’ve fascinated him i think.#perhaps this is an odd thing to say but i wonder what he’d have made of transgender surgeries? i like to think he’d be deeply interested
22 notes · View notes
letstrywritingmaybe · 2 years
Text
I am simply a fangirl, I read a fic, lose my shit over how brilliantly crafted it is and repeat. This is why I am never leaving this ship. I just… like wow, there are so many talented writers and it just makes me internally combust every time I get to read fics about my ship falling in love. Don’t mind me, I’m just gushing when I should be sleeping
Okay I’m not done, it’s still in my head but I can’t keep talking about it in the tags cause I’m gonna run out soon and I have a lot of feelings! First a Boston mention? I swear my heart belongs in the east coast! The slow burn of it allllllll. They kill me, I love reading it, but also ahhhhhh!!!!!! I am so impatient and I just want them to be together okay, but it’s really in character for it to take forever. Like ten freaking years man. I just. Omm and they never moved on, like you got me there, and didn’t even try to move on !!! The callbackssssss, I love those!!! The confession, those always get me too, Omm especially from both sides like !!! The whole you’re going to regret this for the rest of your life and they did regret it for ten whole fucking years. The cases too, like wow, amazing. Seriously I can so see this actually happening. It’s the so close yet so far thing too, it’s their specialty I swear and I hate it! Like just be together already, you’re killing me. Okay I’m gonna stop, but yeah this is definitely one of those fics that won’t go away for a while. Add it to my list of fics that I will hold onto forever
5 notes · View notes
majoringinsarcasm · 1 month
Text
Ok now under a read more but here’s major’s thoughts on bodies and shit
So I came across someone who is in the process of de–transitioning on Instagram, which made me wary at first because. You know. But it’s really refreshing to just see One Person instead of a static used against people. To hear one singular real person talk about their journey which people in the comments said was akin to a different kind of transition. And how media does not do them justice.
It takes a lot of courage to come out as trans. To figure out so much on your own and then be faced with such hatred and doubt and riddle. To find who you are in the fire and hope you come out alive on the other side.
It takes a lot of courage to say “I actually don’t like this change I’ve made” after however long of talking about it and being on hormones or even having regret with surgery. It’s framed as a reason to keep trans people locked down but that’s not fair. To be unhappy with your identity and to want to change despite how you might’ve felt before. To maybe have overshot where you wanted to be and needing to find a middle ground. To search for your identity in the rubble of what you thought you wanted and trying to find all the pieces.
Being trans is not evil. Detransitioning / transition remix is not evil. Whats evil is using people’s very vulnerable emotions and thoughtfulness of their OWN BODY as a weapon against a community while also MOTHER caring about “this important group that sheds light on the truth of transitioning” outside of using them as a platform to step on.
Had they not detransitioned they’d be back on the chopping block. If they weren’t vocal about their regret and were causal about it they’d be poster children for “getting un-needed surgery like it’s a game”
There are people who have detransitioned who are not kind to the trans community and that sucks. But there’s trans people who aren’t kind to other trans people either. It’s bad because those people are being used for a hateful agenda and people don’t actually care about their journey or lives outside of how it can be weaponized. And it must suck to want to talk about your regrets and changes and how you’re gonna move forward and your words always being used as a gotcha and not what it truly is which is your personal experience
Anyway it was really good for me to see. The media won’t show you allies when talking about those who detransitioned and we have to remember that it’s done like that on Purpose
0 notes
inkskinned · 9 months
Text
no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
13K notes · View notes
surftrips · 4 months
Text
SWEET NOTHING
pairing: luke castellan x reader
summary: y/n comforts luke after he sees percy claimed by poseidon.
word count: 600+
a/n: y'all i know. how many more morally grey characters can i write fics for? i couldn't help it, he's so bf in the first two episodes so this takes place in a world where he’s done nothing wrong <3
Tumblr media
You watched as your boyfriend’s face changed after seeing the newest camp member, Percy Jackson, claimed by his father, Poseidon. 
Luke wasn’t one of the unclaimed kids, but he might as well have been. His relationship with his father Hermes was a strained one, but he pretended like it didn’t bother him. 
But now, it was hard not to notice the sadness and frustration that had clouded Luke’s face as he watched the trident appear above Percy’s head. Before you could go over to comfort him, he had already run away from the scene. 
You decided to give him some space, figuring that he had gone back to his cabin. As the other camp members slowly dispersed, you looked around for Annabeth. 
Upon laying your eyes on the dark-haired girl in the crowd of people, you beckoned her over. 
“Hey! Did you see that?” she asked you, excitedly.
“Yeah, that was crazy!” you admitted. “How’d you know he was Poseidon’s?”
“I’ve been watching him.”
“Of course,” you smiled. Luke had told you about Annabeth's desire to find “The Chosen One.” 
“Wait- where’s Luke?” she asked, as if on cue.
“I was gonna talk to you about that- I think he ran back to his cabin.”
“What- why?”
“I think he had some feelings about Percy being claimed, if you know what I mean.” 
“Oh,” Annabeth replied, putting the pieces together. 
“Yeah, I’m giving him some space right now, but do you have any advice on how to approach this? I don’t want to upset him any more.”
“Look, Y/N, you’re his girlfriend. Just do your best to comfort him and I’m sure he’ll start to feel better.”
“I know, but you’re his sister! You know him best, what if I say the wrong thing?” 
“You can’t say the wrong thing. He loves you, Y/N. He just needs to see that someone is there for him.” 
“Okay, thank you, Annabeth,” you gave her a hug before heading in the direction of the Hermes cabin. 
You were relieved to find that the other campers had not gotten back yet. You gently pushed open the door and found yourself facing your boyfriend’s back sitting on his bed. 
“Luke?” you called out.
He turned to face you, hastily swiping at the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. 
“Oh, sweet boy, come here,” you ran over to take him in your arms. He let his tears fall again, and your heart broke seeing him like this. You knew that he acted brave all the time, but deep down, he was hurting.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out,” you attempted to calm him down. 
“Why doesn’t he care about me?” he cried.
“Baby, it’s okay. He doesn’t matter, alright? It has nothing to do with you.” 
“Yes, it does. Percy killed a minotaur and broke Clarisse’s spear and his dad just came swooping in.” 
“Look at me,” you pulled away to lift his face up. “You are so, so special. Anyone that knows you can say that. Hell, you’re the best swordsman in this camp. But you know what else? You’re kind, and caring, and you have all this compassion in your heart, despite it all. If he can’t see your worth in that, then that’s a reflection of him, not you.” 
Luke didn’t say anything, instead he worked on catching his breath as you continued to rub his back and lay kisses on his forehead. 
“Thank you,” he said after a moment, still sniffling. 
“For what, baby?” 
“For seeing me. And staying.”
“To know you is to love you, Luke Castellan,” you gave him another kiss, this time on his lips.
4K notes · View notes
ddollipop · 6 months
Text
CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )
Tumblr media
#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .
Tumblr media
When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.
And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.
Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.
“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”
Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 
His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.
A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.
And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.
You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.
But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.
“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”
“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”
“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”
Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.
“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”
His bare hands cup your cheeks.
“Please,” he repeats.
It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.
Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.
“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”
You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.
“I feel fine,” you assure.
“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”
You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.
“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”
“After,” he answers quickly.
He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)
For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.
Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.
Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.
Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)
“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.
His shoulders straighten as you say his name.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.
“You think so?” You smirk a bit.
“I do.”
Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.
You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.
“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.
He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.
“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”
You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.
“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.
Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.
“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”
It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.
The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.
“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”
That is what you like to hear.
“Anything?”
“Anything.” 
His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.
“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.
“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”
You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.
“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.
“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”
“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”
God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.
“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.
“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”
He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.
Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.
“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”
You could cum just hearing that.
With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.
His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.
“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.
For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.
The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.
There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.
He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.
“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.
“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”
You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.
“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”
You smile.
“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”
“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.
God, you hope so.
You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.
“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.
He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.
“I fucking tried,” he says again.
It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.
“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”
He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.
“You have,” you assure him.
“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”
The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.
“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”
“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.
“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.
He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.
“Of course I will,” you answer.
It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.
You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.
It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.
His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.
From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.
He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.
“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.
It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.
“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”
You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.
“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”
He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.
To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.
“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”
His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.
“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”
It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.
Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.
He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.
Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)
He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.
“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.
Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.
“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”
“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”
Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.
His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.
“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.
He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.
“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”
“I do,” you gasp slightly. 
As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.
This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.
“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”
He kisses you once more.
“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”
You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.
His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.
“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”
He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.
Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.
“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”
You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.
“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”
You feel him smile against your neck.
“I’m glad, darling.”
For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
Text
✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3
Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao
Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...
Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v
Tumblr media
Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.
But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.
He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.
You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.
You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.
"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.
"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.
One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.
“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”
Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.
“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.
“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.
“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.
Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.
“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.
“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”
Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”
“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”
Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.
"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.
"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."
"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.
"Good boy."
You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.
"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.
“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.
“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”
Lucifer could only shake his head.
"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"
"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.
You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.
"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.
"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.
"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.
"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.
Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.
Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."
A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.
The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.
"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.
"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.
You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.
Or did you?
While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?
"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"
"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"
You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.
You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.
You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."
Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."
Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.
The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.
Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.
“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.
“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.
He was beautiful.
He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.
"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.
"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.
"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"
You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.
"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.
"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"
Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.
"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."
"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."
"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."
~~~~
Tumblr media
Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘
Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)
1K notes · View notes
halfvalid · 8 months
Text
through the night
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ABOUT
| 18+ | smut | explicit |
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.
tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).
author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro
i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help
Tumblr media
It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.
There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.
“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”
Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”
“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.
You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”
He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”
“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”
Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.
You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.
He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.
You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.
You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.
You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.
“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.
“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.
“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”
“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.
Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.
“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”
You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.
“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”
“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”
You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.
“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.
Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.
He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.
Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.
Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.
And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.
“What?”
A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”
Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.
You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.
“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.
“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”
“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.
“That was mean.”
“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”
You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.
You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.
“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.
You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.
Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.
Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.
Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.
He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.
His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.
“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.
“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.
His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.
“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.
You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.
“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.
“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”
“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”
“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.
He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.
You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.
“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.
“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.
You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.
“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.
Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.
He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.
“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.
A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.
It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.
“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”
“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”
“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”
“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”
Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”
“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”
Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”
“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.
“Good night,” you whispered.
“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.
Tumblr media
© halfvalid 2023
3K notes · View notes
amberluvsbugs · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Recovery
I've been having a lot of brain rot over @xitsensunmoon vampire AU. One mainly of how Moon would be if Y/n came home one day very weak from the blood they had to give? Knowing that he does not show his tender feelings behind his teasing gestures.
Short Drabble on this idea is down below.
Moon has always been a bit of a teasing, cocky, gremlin most of the time, always pushing you and just being the chaotic character that he is. Despite him being such a tease, he does care about you. Especially when it comes to your health. Knowing that you push yourself so far for giving blood to those in need, including the two vampires that now reside with you in secrecy, it does worry them at times with how tired you are when you finally return home from work.
One particular day, however, you push yourself a little too far. Giving more blood than you should have. But despite your health, you knew it would save so many people in the long run. “I’m home.” You state out begrudgingly before turning and weakly closing the door behind you. Your arms feel like lead and are a struggle to lift. 
Moon made his way over to you, his eyes boring into you as he grinned his sharp fanged teeth at you before stopping short. His features quickly changing into something a bit more of an underlying sense of concern as he studied you with his bright red eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “What? Is there something wrong?” You raised a brow. “You look terrible.” Moon spoke out.
“Well yeah, I just got back from the doctors, you know how the deal is.” You shrug out. “You look worse than the other days.” Moon gives deeply. You let out an annoyed sigh. “Moon I don't have time for your snarky remarks right now. I have shit to do and I don't need-” As you started to make your way around Moon, your balance started to drift and suddenly felt a sudden weakness in your legs. Dark spots started covering your sight as things started to drift lower, and lower and lower. Where you getting shorter than Moon? Your mind fuzzy and not catching up with what was exactly happening. Something moved on the edge of your vision, you saw a flash of blue and your body jerked slightly. You felt something from under your arms. When the dark spots in your sight started to disappear, you could finally see what happened in your daze. Moon’s slender hands were under you before you could fully hit the ground and risk any more damage. His expression was now one of wide-eyed worry as he looked over you. His eyes flit from your face to your chest, then back. His smile was no longer present as it was now in a concerned frown while his stature easily loomed over you in his squatted position. Moon had rushed over to catch you.
You shifted a bit by a means to sit up, looking anywhere but Moon’s face as he still carefully held you. “Sorry, ‘m fine. It’s just a sleep spell that caught me off guard is all.” You mumbled out. There was a beat of stillness before Moon moved one of his hands to drift down your arm. You tensed as he gently pressed your wrist. He was being mindful of his claws as he pressed his thumb to the pulse point on your wrist to feel the thump of your now weak life force. “You pushed yourself too far. You are weak.” Moon softly scolds you. You let out a huff at this, weakly tugging your hand away from his grasp. He was right but this was normal for you. You just went only a touch overboard it’s nothing serious. Moon sighed and moved to bring his hands back under you to pick you off the ground. Your side pressing to Moon as one hand wrapped under your back and the other under your legs, holding you in a signature bridal style as his long cape dragged with him in his movements. “Wh- what are you doing..?” You tensed at the close contact as he moved to walk over to the living room. “Carrying you.” “You know I can walk Moon-” “Do you want to have another sleep spell and fall again?” He looked at you with a sharp expression in his red eyes. “….No.” You grumbled out and begrudgingly looked away. You hated how he had a good point. “But I need to clean n’ finish up some things.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his arms easily held you firm. Your whole body was just so difficult to move. “Later.” Moon flatly stated before moving over to the couch and carefully lowering you down on it. “You need to recover and rest.” You grumbled and your body simply melted to the couch. You were still trying to move to get up but even your body just wasn't listening while you laid down. “You're so stubborn.” Moon chuckled slightly in a tease. He boops you with a clawed finger on your nose as he bends over you with his face cocked to the side. Softly amused by your antics while he sharply grins at you. “And you're a prick.” You deadpan. He smiles cheekily at you before looking over and walking out of your sight. His footsteps and the bells he adorns fading out as he goes to get something. Your eyes already threatening to close in waves of tiredness. God, you had stuff to do, why was your body like this?
The jingle of bells prompts Moon returning back to where you were. He lays a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, being mindful of his claws as he quietly sits in front of your weak form on the side of the couch. Your eyes opened slightly at the contact and seeing him. His head on level with your own in this position while his fluffy cape draped over the back of him. “Here…Drink.” He urges as brings a glass of water over to you. His other hand helps guide you to sit up. You gingerly take the glass and sip the water down while Moon continues to stare at you with his sharp red eyes. Flitting from your face to your chest, and then back again. Concern laced in his features. Once satisfied and swallowing the last of your water, you handed the now empty glass back to him. “Thank you.” You quietly give. He hums in acknowledgment as he sets the glass on the ground beside the couch before you laid back down. Shifting one of the pillows that was on the couch to be under your head. Moon's head now resting on the couch on level and particularly close with your own face, watching you with an unreadable furrowed expression. His clawed hands rested under his faceplate as if pouting or being hesitant over something. It was starting to worry you now. “What's up wit’ you, I don't think I’ve ever seen you like this before.” You questioned sluggishly. Moon looked away slightly as his brows furrowed more, grumbling a bit as his fingers tensed a bit in the cushion. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
He releases a huff in slight embarrassment. “I’m worried…about you.” Concern filling his answer. “You’re… worried about me?” Your sleepy brain was trying to process his answer. He nods once.
“Why? Imma be fine.” You state as if it was nothing but a simple thing. Moon eyes looks back at you for a few beats before moving slightly closer to you. Sliding one of his slender hands to be under the pillow you lay on for more support and brought his other free hand to grasp one of your own that was lying on the couch between you and Moon. His slow and careful grasp engulfing it entirely as he looks back at you once more. One of his fingers pressing to your pulse point once more.
“You need to take better care of yourself….You push yourself too hard.”
You sigh sleepily. “I know Moonie… But every time I do this, I help so many others. You both included. Don’ want you guys to starve.” You mumble as you blink heavily.
“You are just as important, Starlight.” Moon whispers as his concerned eyes flit around your face once more. He gently released his hand that held your own and brought a careful index claw up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. “Please promise me you won’t push yourself like this again.” He softly asks you.
“Mmmmnnnn..” You mumble out, your brain starting to quickly go into sleep mode.
Moon’s bell on his hat rings softly when he leans his face closer to you, the fluff of his hat brushing up on you with how close he is. “Please.”
“Mmmm okay, okay…” You managed to get out sluggishly.
Moon lets out a huff in relief before looking over and reaching for a blanket that was folded on the other side of the couch. Draping it over your small form before looking over you again.
Letting out another soft sigh he leaned in and nuzzled his faceplate onto your forehead. His arm wrapped around your torso.
“Don’t do it again or you will regret it.” He scolds lightly.
“I woonnnttt.” You drawl out. Defeated in the exhaustion and Moon’s hold on you.
Moon's presence holds you softly and securely as sleep washes over you in seconds. You had seriously pushed yourself too far today as your pulse was just barely thumping under Moon’s touch. He does not have a desire to lose you. You mean too much to both him and Sun.
Moon’s form stays by your side as you sleep deeply, his eyes closed as his faceplate nuzzles you. Whether it be in content or by means of comfort, he lets out quiet deep purrs to try and aid in your recovery. Still paying close attention to your pulse as he rests with you on the couch as if it could stop at any moment.
1K notes · View notes