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#but yeah. free content will continue but just less so.
ennakros · 4 months
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hey loves. i know this isn't ideal, but any future icon borders will start having a minimum price on ko-fi. i love creating things and coming up with designs, but i need to also focus on breaking even with the costs of my licenses, and perhaps stop making a loss financially with this. it's my hobby, yes, but i also view it as a side project & a pocket money style income stream. prices won't be expensive, but expect the minimum to be between £0.50 and £1.50 from hereon out.
free borders and dividers will still be shared, as well as psds when i come to making them. paid dividers will be due to their levels of customisation.
with all this being said — the rules remain the same regardless if they are paid or free: all content must be credited appropriately, failure to do so will result in blacklisting, if it happens on a consistent basis then that will result in all downloads being made private & through IM only, with evidence of crediting being provided. if you buy a product that allows you to input your url, that does not mean you can claim you made it yourself. credit me.
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moechies · 7 months
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౨ৎ ⋆ cherry popper! ꨄ toji fushiguro
sypnosis: your first time with toji fushiguro
content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 1.1k words ꒱ virgin reader w toji, reader saying “it hurts,” dacryphilia, praise, pet names mama princess& girl, mentions of fingering, making out, p in v !! obviously
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“slow down girl,” he chuckles from above you, watching you pant from the lack of breath due to your guy’s make out session. one of his arms splay next to your head, another one deep in your creamy cunt. simply the taste of his tongue on yours made you ecstatic, barely able to contain yourself.
toji had been fingering you for the past hour, gotten you to cum twice. it hurts, the way he keeps on slowing down when you’re forced to report that you’re ‘so close,’ shushing your whines and claiming that he’s only prepping you; so you can’t cum.
he feels your cunt grow sticky and swollen as he continues with his ministrations, gently scissoring his fingers eliciting lewd noises. it was too much. he occasionally glides his fingers over your hot bud, ‘unintentionally’ making you twitch.
“m ready toji, please..”
“y’think so, baby? want this cunny filled?” he’s straightforward, and it embarrasses you. you muster out, “yeah , but . . a-are you going to be gentle ? ”
all he does is laugh at your adorable attempts to be good for him, please him as you’re always desperate to do, and be ultimately his favorite .
he pulls his boxers down below his hip, exposing his hard cock that had been painfully strained against the dirtied fabric up until now. all you can do is stare, that intimidating length and width you couldn’t believe was right in front of you. and soon, inside you .
you eye at his leaky tip dribbling translucent globs of pre, and the evident vein that runs down his cock from top to the bottom.
it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.. you could see his cock through his pants, even if he had been soft. but now that it’s right in front of your face, it begins to feel real.
“ya sure you’re ready for it darling?”
you give him a simple nod accompanied by a sigh, but he won’t take it.
“need you to say it out f’me , doll.”
“i’m ready for it , toji..” you incoherently mumble, barely able to think straight as you continue to eye his cock.
the look of fear in your eyes, it’s almost as if it turns him on even more. all he wanted to do was to flip you on your tummy and fuck you with your head pressed down into the soft of your pink pillows till you cried for him to stop, but he had to be sweet now!
“alright, stay still f’me mama,”
he lines up his cock with your tiny cunt, and you feel your breath begin to labor.
“calm down princess. i’ll go slow. tell me if it hurts.”
with how wet you were, he could’ve slipped it in easy but you had too small of a hole. you feel a glob of his spit fall onto your cunt, what follows shortly when he begins to rub his cockhead around in circles on your cunt, pressing up on your clit. he gently teases you by pressing it back and forth in your hole, but never fully inside, giving you time.
“no more toji..”
all he can do is laugh at your squirming body, so desperate for him, making you shy again. he spits again but on his cock, giving his swollen cock head a few pumps, before using his free hand to press open your legs to stretch your cunt just a bit more.
he presses his tip against your wet hole, and you almost begin to tear up. not wanting to cry in front of toji, but you were so scared. but he knows,
“don’t be scared baby, i’ll make you feel so good alright?”
he leans down over to kiss your lips, meanwhile slightly slipping just the tip into your cunt. you feel him inside, and pull away. your reflects tell you to thrash away from it but you don’t. it’s so thick.
“toji… toji..”
“feel good baby?”
you’re almost shaking as you feel him sneaking inches into your cunt, before it hits a barrier.
“s gonna hurt just a bit baby.”
he pushes through your hymen quickly so there’s no pain, he truly tried to make this less painful! his heart pounds with ache when he’s met with a quick squeak, followed by pained pants and whines as you attempt to adjust to the unusual feeling.
“i-it hurts!! toji! hurts! “
“i know baby, i know.. fuck. you’re so tight mama.. doin’ so well.”
he bends over and cages your head in his arms, meanwhile slowly thrusting back and forth to sooth the pain. he wipes away the stray tears with his thumb, and kisses your face so sweetly. he continues his sweet peppering kisses, even while he pushes his cock deeper and deeper.
“toji no.. no.. too much i can’t.. don’t know how..” he smiles,
“don’t need you to know baby, just need you to lay there pretty for me and take it.” he looks down to see his cock covered in your blood and slick, and he almost cums.
he lets out a sweet groan at the sight, moving his attention back to your face to notice that you had stopped crying, rather started whimpering.
“still hurts baby?”
“yeah, does.. no more..”
“i know mama..”
even with your denial, he shoves his cock fully inside of you. he knows you just needed a push, and he was all for it. you scream out of shock at the uncomfortable fill in your cunt, pulling the man closer to you and into your chest, searching for comfort,
“toji! it hurts! hurts!”
“s okay baby, took it all. so good for me right? first time and you took all of it, you’re such a good girl. such a sweet, good girl baby. you’re doing so fuckin’ well for me. you are.”
he says as he kisses your face down to your neck. he doesn’t move until the look on your face changes from pain to pleasure, and he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re ready for him to move. your minds cloudy and your thoughts fill with toji, and only him. you mindlessly moan his name over and over as he slowly strokes in and out of your silky cunt. he strokes through your hair and kisses your forehead so gently you almost want to cry.
“toji.. toji…. feels weird.. feels so good..”
“yeah baby? gonna cum for me sweetheart?”
“yeah.. think so.. dunno..”
he laughs at your innocence, he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world.
“cum for me baby. cum on this sweet cock f’me mama.”
and you do.
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madschiavelique · 10 months
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accidentally overstimulating miguel while you’re riding him so he literally has to lift you up off him and he’s like “okay, yeah, that’s enough”
yESSSSS AAAA (i know this is not a request per se but i felt like writing a lil smth about it)
summary : overstimulating miguel while riding him to the point where he has to lift you off him... so he fingers you and gives you oral instead
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader riding migul, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 839
tag list : @fandom-ash
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Miguel couldn't wait, it had been too long since you and him had fucked. The reasons were varied: you were on a mission and he wasn't, he was on a mission and you weren't, you were both on a mission and had to take care of business, or you had to take care of reports and other interdimensional problems.
So when you had a little more free time and he welcomed you into his home, he couldn't hold on any longer. He'd double-locked the door, and as soon as he'd done that, he'd guided you in the bedroom, pulled down your bottom, practically ripped off your panties and thrust himself inside you.
And now you'd been in there for over an hour. You were on top of Miguel, riding him, undulating your body perfectly on top of him as he just had an orgasm.
He'd gripped your buttocks tightly, taking your skin entirely between his fingers as he'd pressed his pelvis as close to yours as possible to go deep inside you.
At last, he'd let his head rest on his pillow.
Only you hadn't stopped moving. The sensations you were experiencing were delicious, his whole length and width plunged into you and stretching you to perfection. The rocking of your hips was delicious, yet Miguel's sensitivity was beginning to kick in.
It was as if you were gently caressing a fresh wound, each movement turning the touch into a painful grip.
He grunted, sighing as you continued your movements. He looked at you, absolutely magnificent above him.
He had no desire to interrupt your pleasure, to suddenly stop the superb sounds you were producing thanks to him - he was too proud of making them.
But the sensation was becoming less and less sustainable, and with a final grunt he gripped your thighs firmly and lifted you off him to let his cock fall back against his lower belly, still glistening with your juices.
"Okay," he huffed, completely out of breath and relieved, "yeah, that's enough."
You looked at him, equally breathless, the small regret that it stopped so suddenly settling on your face.
Miguel felt almost guilty at your apologetic expression, but he was unable at the moment to continue satisfying you like this, unless he proceeded otherwise...
"Still wanna go at it, nena?" he questioned, stroking your thigh.
You nodded softly, the warm desire in your lower belly still present and demanding attention.
"I'll give you a choice then," he nodded, "choose: fingers, or mouth?"
You bit your lower lip with a smile before only leaning into him and confirming:
"Both."
A low rumble vibrated in his chest as a sneer stretched one of his lips in a dark smile.
"Good choice."
In one swift movement you found yourself in his place and he in yours, towering over you with his massive body as he began a trail of kisses across your skin and you chirped under his touch.
He moved down to your lower belly, leaving small marks in his wake before bringing his hand to your wet folds, coating two of his fingers with your wetness before sliding them in.
The shaky breath you took made Miguel smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh. You deserved this attention, and he was going to give it to you.
As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.
The gesture elicited a slight moan from him, which vibrated on the sensitive ball of nerves, and you sighed a mix of a breath and a moan.
His tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.
He would never tire of seeing in your eyes even the size of your desire, and he would never tire of the idea that it was meant for him. He knew how lucky he was.
Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.
The state you'd been in just a few moments ago while riding Miguel was close to orgasm, and his calculated gestures were going to push you over the edge. Instinctively, your pelvis began to undulate on its own.
Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.
And then it all exploded, Miguel tenderly kissing your skin as you felt like he was kissing a second heart beating in your entire body. He waited a bit before pulling out his two fingers gently, bringing them to his lips, sucking them until all your juices were clean from his fingers.
Then rose to kiss you, murmuring tender words to your ears.
"You're amazing, nena, and I need you to know it."
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pocket-watcher · 2 months
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“Ugh my back is killing me.” You contorted your arm to try and get some pressure on the ache in your upper back, but you couldn’t quite reach it.
It had been about two weeks of this ever-growing pain. You’d tried stretching, ice, heat, and nothing had worked!
“Why don’t you get a massage?” Your friend suggested, and that was how you found yourself ducking into a massage parlour later that day.
The receptionist had a blank smile on his face, gaze unfocused. You rang the bell. No response. You rang it again.
On the third bell he sleepily looked up at you, smiling still.
“Down the hall… and… down the hall… right? Yeah. To the right.”
You wondered how he even got this job.
Heading down the hall, and down the hall, and to the right, you came to a room dimly lit with candles. A woman stood behind a massage table.
“Ah, you must be my 6 o’clock.” The masseuse smiled at you.
You smiled awkwardly, and she gestured for you to sit.
“What seems to be the issue?” She asked, eyeing you up. You instinctively fixed your posture.
“It’s my back. Do you think you could take a look at it for me?” You explain.
She approaches you and pauses, and you realise why - you gingerly remove your shirt.
Her hands move slowly up your back. She pushes down and you feel your eyes roll back into your head as she rubs it. Relief.
“Yes. I can feel the tension. Lie down for me.”
You do as she says, lying face down, eager for more relief.
“Good.” She praises, and you feel your face flush involuntarily.
Her hands begin to knead your back rhythmically up and down, back and forth, occasionally hitting that sweet spot. You hold back a whine as she moves away from it.
Your eyes get heavy from the release of tension. It’s been an exhausting time having to carry it all with you. You let yourself begin to sink into the table, eyes fluttering close.
“This problem stems from poor posture. You really do need to take care of yourself more.” You hear her say as she works away, pushing deep circles around and around into your back, your shoulders.
“Mhmm…” is all you manage to reply.
“I know it’s difficult. Everyday life is so busy and stressful… Maybe you just need someone else to take care of you.”
“Mhmm…” you moan in agreement, your brain not fully processing what she’s saying until a moment or two later.
You think, as much as you can as she massages you into a state of bliss, that having someone to take care of you would be really nice. You think this is really nice. Her fingers moulding your back. You shiver as she lightly brushes your bare skin as she moves lower.
“Someone to tell you what to do, what to wear, you wouldn’t have so much tension then. You wouldn’t need to worry about anything.” She continues.
You sigh wistfully, imagining that. No worries, no thinking, just staying like this. Relaxed. Stress melting away. The pain from earlier is a distant memory compared to the contentment you feel down.
You feel your body get hot as she moves away from your back and down towards your legs.
But any embarrassment you may have felt simply dissipates with her soothing touch.
“You need to let me in. Let my words squeeze and stretch that brain. Let me massage every last bit of free will out of you.”
Alarm bells sounded at that last sentence, but your muscles were too relaxed for you to move.
“Shh…. Relax. Let me take care of you. It would feel so good to give in, wouldn’t it?”
It was less of a question and more of an order. You felt your body betray you. A moan slipped out as you slipped deeper. Her hands move between your legs.
“That’s it…” her hands worked you, body and mind, into submission.
“Now let’s make sure you release all of that building tension inside of you too…”
You couldn’t quite remember what had happened next. But you found yourself back at reception with a smile on your face, booking another appointment.
“Same time next week?” The receptionist asked in a daze.
“…yes… yes please.” You replied, breathless.
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daylite-writes · 1 month
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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader
At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…
cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.
1k words
~~~
“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.
You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”
“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”
You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.
Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.
You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.
When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.
Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.
It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?
A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.
Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.
You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.
He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.
You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”
You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.
“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”
“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.
“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”
It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.
At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.
You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.
He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”
He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.
He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.
~
Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!
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missuswalker · 6 months
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𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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✮ summary: after peter finishes… well, you know, he can’t stop himself from coming to see you. as if he’s not clingy enough, he can’t help but be all over you. at least he’s (trying) to sit still for once
✮ warnings: brief nsfw content, masturbation (not proofread)
✮ notes: man idk i just feel like peter is all clingy and touchy after he nuts
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peter’s mind had been on you all day, trapped on the image of your hand wrapped around his cock. of course, that wasn’t exactly the case at the moment, considering it was his own hand. as he pumped himself, he tried his best to remember that little face you make when you cum. he’d been working on this problem of his for way longer than he should have, and he was searching for anything to push him over the edge.
the more he thought about you, your pretty tits, and that hella tight skirt, the closer he could feel his release building. picking up his pace, he bites back a whimper. more thoughts of you didn’t help his attempt at silence, a grunt or two escaping his lips. he pushes his head further back into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. free hand balled into a fist, he lets out a low moan, cumming all over his stomach and fingers.
after cleaning himself up, he stares at the photo of you two on his bedside table. he wanted to see you so bad. maybe it was just the post-nut fog, but he just needed you wrapped up in his arms. throwing on some jeans and a tshirt, he lets his mom know he’s heading out with a quick shout. he’s at you window in less than a second, sliding it open. he always told you to lock your window in case a creep decides to crawl in, but, in reality, the only creep that ever used it was him.
“hey, peter,” you greet, not even bothering to turn around. whenever your window was suddenly opened, you automatically knew it was your idiot boyfriend who could never just use the front door. “it’s not peter, it’s a scary murderer and i’m here to kill you,” he says, making a stabbing motion behind your head. “oh no,” you say, your tone bored and plain as you continue to study for your exams.
peter rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “not happy to see me?” he teases, his lips connecting with the smooth skin of your neck. you push his face away, writing something down in a tiny notebook, papers scattered across your desk. “i’m studying,” you respond, eyes locked on your notes. his mouth is back on your neck immediately, despite you having just pushed him away.
“come on, babe, let’s hang out, you can study later, yeah?” he hums, nibbling right below your jaw. he absolutely would not be giving up, and you knew it. turning around in your chair, you look up at the silver-haired boy, giving an agitated look. he only gives back an innocent smile, pulling you up by your hand. “why are you so adamant on hanging out specifically right now,” you groan, allowing him to lead you to your bed. “no reason.”
pushing you down onto your unmade bed, he jumps, landing beside you. “hey, hot stuff,” he grins, posing with his face resting in the palm of his hand. “hey, dipshit,” you say in an overly-lovey tone, sarcasm evident in your dramatic smile. “you love me,” he laughs, pulling you into his arms, ruffling your hair. “sometimes,” you joke back, feeling less aggravated at your distraction of a boyfriend. he smiles, his face finding a place in the crook of your neck.
“mm, missed you,” he hums, taking a deep breath. you grin, playing with his hair. “i missed you, too.” he kisses your shoulder multiple times, moving up your neck and jaw. “i love you,” he continues, his lips lingering on your cheek. “i love you, too,” you snort, furrowing your eyebrows at his overly-affectionate behavior. eventually he settles, his leg bouncing a bit as he lays next to you, arms loose around your waist. “don’t fall asleep,” you tell him, trying to get a look at his face. “i’m not asleep,” he grunts, though it was clear he was about to be.
“yeah, okay.”
“i’m not.”
“shut up.”
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short and sweet, i love him sm
(send in requests, i beg)
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devildomcuties · 2 months
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When you/they find out, fingertips are an erogenous zone
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thank you for the request! I tried this with my husband and i don't think i did it correctly but i tried my best in writing this, so I hope it's close to what you requested! video
🕷 pairing: demon brother x gn!reader
🕷 wc: 1.8k
🕷 warnings: pet names (babe, treasure, baby, love, doll, cupcake, little moon), suggestive content (18+), licking, biting, and sucking on fingers, shared bath, food mention, mention of oral sex
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Lucifer 
Lucifer was used to your odd shenanigans after being on your D.D.D. all evening, so when you walked into his bedroom with a bashful smile, he knew you were up to something.  
“What is it that you saw this time?” Lucifer asks as he looks up from his book. He raises a brow when you don’t respond immediately. Sighing, he shuts his book and sets it on the nightstand. 
“Well, I saw this video,” you start as you walk toward him. “And apparently fingertips are considered an erogenous zone…” 
Lucifer gives you a few seconds to continue, but he smirks when you don’t. 
“Is there something you’d like to try, babe?”
You can feel your face heat as he eyes you playfully. Whatever you’ve seen, you’ve been dying to get him alone, in his bedroom no less.
“It’s silly,” you say as you try to backtrack but his hand wraps around your wrist gently to keep you in place. You refuse to meet his gaze, his fingers gripping your chin to make you look up at him.
“You never have to hide from me, babe. Now, show me what you learned,” he instructs as he releases your wrist and places his wrist in your hand. 
You take it gingerly, pressing your fingertips to his with some pressure before dragging them down his arm. Lucifer watches you curiously, surprised when his body responds to your fingertips.
“Do it again,” he commands and you gladly do so.
This time, Lucifer shuts his eyes and inhales sharply. He cups your face and kisses you when you take your hand off him.
He’ll spend the rest of the night doing the same to you.
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Mammon 
Boredom rarely came to you when you were at HOL. Normally, you’d be with one of the brothers, whichever happened to steal you away for the moment.
Today, Mammon had won. 
“Mammon,” you whine from his bed as he sits at his desk counting Grimm.
“Just a minute, Treasure,” he responds as he continues counting. 
“But I want to show you something,” you pout, lying on his bed. 
Mammon hums, finishing his counting before getting into bed beside you. 
“What is it, Treasure?” 
“This,” you giggle as you take his hand in yours. You press your fingertips to his own, dragging them up his arm before your nails lightly dig into his skin. 
Mammon moans immediately, surprising himself. 
“What did you do, Treasure?” he asks with wide eyes as you smile bashfully. You repeat your actions, eyes glued to the sinful reactions Mammon gives you.
“Fuck, Treasure,” he groans as he moves to straddle your hips. He pins your arms over your head, fingers laced together. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
“Gladly,” you grin.
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Levi
You’d been in Levi’s bedroom all evening. You had played games, read some of his new manga, and alphabetized his most recent purchases.
Now you were sitting beside him while he played his new RPG. Unfortunately for you, it was single-player, so all you could do was watch.
You knew the moment you tried to leave, he’d beg you to stay, and you couldn’t resist him. You were head over heels for him, and he knew it.
“Levi,” you pout. “Pay attention to me.”
Your whines don’t go unanswered as he briefly looks at you. “Y-yeah?”
“Play with me,” you whine. 
Levie blushes, thoughts heading into dangerous territory before his game garners his attention again. 
Frowning, you take his free hand in your own. Levi goes to protest but is surprised when you bring his fingertips to your lips. Gently, you kiss each of them as he quits his game to stare at you. 
You ignore him as you take his finger into your mouth, your teeth gently sinking into the pad of his finger. Levi watches on with astonishment, biting back a moan as his face burns red. His cock twitches in his pants, and his breathing grows heavy as your tongue swirls around his finger.
“Are you going to play with me now, Levi?” you ask with a smile before you take his finger back into your mouth, sucking and nipping at his fingertip.
“Yeah, I-I am,” Levi stutters as you bite him a little harder just to watch his eyes roll to the back of his head. 
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Satan
“What did I miss?” you ask as you wake from your nap. Satan chuckles as you sit up, your hair mussed from tossing and turning in your sleep. He’s smiling when he fixes your hair with one hand and uses the other to mark his place in his book.
“What are you reading?” you ask as you sit up, moving to sit between his legs with your back pressed to his chest.
Satan shows you the cover of his book, and your eyes widen as you read the title.
31 Erogenous Zones of the Human Body.
“Oh?” you perk up, ignoring the flush of heat rising to your cheeks.
Satan smirks. “There are the obvious ones. You know, the lips, the neck, the chest.”
You nod as you open the book to the page he was on and Satan rests his chin on your shoulder. “But this one is interesting. The fingertips are sensitive, and so are the palms and wrists.”
“Have you ever tried it on a human?” you ask, feeling Satan’s chest rumble as he laughs.
“Baby, do you think I’d tolerate any other human close enough to figure out what their erogenous zones are? There’s only you, my love. That’s why I ordered this book as soon as I saw it.” Satan explains as he places the book aside.
He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing the palm. His teeth scrape the end of your palm, making you sigh as he kisses his way to your wrist. He sucks the sensitive skin, feeling you go limp in his hold.
“So responsive,” he teases as he continues to kiss his way upward, watching you unravel right before him.
You were in for a long night of pleasure.
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Asmo
“Doll, am I happy to see you!” Asmo exclaims when he comes out of the bathroom fresh from his shower.
“You texted me to come in here,” you respond with a smile. You managed to sneak around HOL with just the robe Asmo had gifted you this morning. Now you were heading into the bathtub with Asmo to scrub and pamper you until he was content.
Asmo is gentle with his touch as he rubs your shoulders with his hands. He’s on his knees as he raises your arm out of the tub to rub a loofah over your skin. Something about the rough texture makes you moan as you shut your eyes to focus on the pleasure.
Humming, Asmo continues, giggling when you moan his name and sink into the tub further. “You seem to be enjoying this more than usual, Doll.”
“Feels good,” you state as Asmo adds more pressure to your arm with the loofah before tossing it to the other side of the tub. 
“Fuck it,” Asmo curses as he takes his bathrobe off and joins you in the tub. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you to his chest as he kisses your neck and shoulders. “You’re too intoxicating to resist.”
Silently, Asmo grabs your wrist, pulling your arm towards him. Slowly, he rubs your arm, nails scratching your skin softly until he adds more pressure on the next run.
His name rolls off your tongue, back arching slightly as his lips meet your shoulder. “Such a pretty little doll for me.”
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Beel
“You know, when you mentioned having a snack, I didn’t think you meant everything in the Devildom,” you tease as you push your unfinished candy bar toward Beel.
Beel takes it. He eats it immediately before moving on to the next chocolate bar. “Just a little something before dinner.”
“Is Belphie in the attic again?” you ask as you move to sit in his lap.
“Yeah, he said my snacking was keeping him awake,” Beel shrugs as he opens another chocolate bar.
You giggle, shaking your head.
“What’s so funny, Cupcake?” Beel asks as he finishes his chocolate.
“Nothing. It just means I have you all to myself,” you grin, taking his wrist and bringing his chocolate-covered fingers to your lips.
Beel eyes you curiously as you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the chocolate off and nipping his fingertip.
Beel moans when you release his finger and take another into your mouth. He’s not surprised when his cock stirs in his pants when you suck his finger clean, swirling your tongue around the tip. 
When you’re done sucking his fingers, Beel slams his lips on yours. His sticky hands grip the back of your head as he deepens the kiss to taste the sweetness of the chocolate on your tongue. Your hips grind down on his, moaning into his mouth as he groans your name when your hands fist his shirt, nearly tearing it off his body.
Beel didn’t think something as simple as sucking and biting on his fingers would turn him on so much, but all he can think of now is stuffing your mouth full of his cock.
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Belphie
“Moon?” Belphie asks sleepily when he feels you stir in his arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a bad dream,” you gently stroke his hair. “Nothing to worry about.”
Belphie frowns, he’s tried to take your bad dreams away. Keeping you at his side at bedtime to help keep the nightmares away. He can filter most of them out, but some still slip through. He’ll have to ask Lucifer or Solomon if there’s anything else he can do to rid you of these dreams.
You know as long as he and his brothers are around, harm will not come to you. But still, these bad dreams persist.
Belphie laces your fingers together, kissing your hand before kissing each of your fingers.
“You’re safe with me, Moon. You always will be,” he promises as he takes your palm and lightly runs his nails over the tender skin. You nod, curling into his side as he continues to stroke your palm with his fingertips, alternating between rubbing and scratching it gently.
“It tickles,” you grin as he brings your hand to his lips, teeth sinking into your wrist. You moan, melting into a puddle beside him. Belphie smiles sleepily as he does it again, kissing your lips before lacing your fingers together.
“Go to sleep, Little Moon. I’ll keep all the dangers away,” Belphie promises, as you rest your head on his chest and fall asleep a few minutes later.
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©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
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selarina · 4 months
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Gojo Satoru x Reader (Reader wears a bikini and a dress)
A/N: Sorry for the unannounced month-long break. I've been swamped with uni work and writer's block but here's a little vacation au that's kinda based on a true story... 🫠
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The start of this summer has been less than perfect. The over-rushed booking, the forgotten essentials, the shared accommodations — it was all a bit too much in the beginning but you’ve succumbed to the flow as the days unfolded. 
It was a 15-day vacation, and on your fifth day, you feel like you are approaching a state of feeling content. It’s hard not to. You’re currently ensconced on the most luxuriously soft daybed by the pool, your feet idly stretching ever so often as you sip from your ever-flowing glass of Aperol spritz. This is admittedly nice.
But while you’re involved in your own sweet languor, you fail to notice a certain peculiar white-haired figure approaching the bunch of you. 
Gradually tip-toeing his way, closer and closer, much to your friend’s concern. But he finally manages to catch your attention, all with a punctuating soft grunt. 
You look up, a bit startled but mostly annoyed at the interruption. You sit up, just a little, to get a better view of the man.
“Can we help you?” You ask. 
He’s pretty, and pale. You wonder if he’s carrying enough sunscreen for the trip.
“Yeah, hi!” He smiled. A sort of disarming smile.
“Hi,” you smile back, almost involuntarily.
“Uh, I lost a bet with my friends back there,” he spoke up, pointing back to a small cluster of people on the opposite side of the pool. “And I’m here to— Oh, I’m sorry. The sun must be bothering you.”
He steps forward, shielding you from the harsh heat the sun was inflicting upon your face. 
You resisted a smile, but it was tethering just about.
He seemed juvenile — this white-haired boy. He’s tall. Perhaps too tall. And he had this boyish look about him. In the way he stood, and moved his arms. In his smile. You wonder if he’s always like this, or if it’s just a persona he’s adopting for this vacation. 
You say this only because you are. You’re not often like this — lounging about in the sun, dressed in a white bikini with sunglasses resting on your head, with a glass in hand. This kind of nonchalance, this relaxation — it didn’t come easy to you. But you indulge in it because you can, even if just for a short while.
"You were saying?" you prompt, after existing in the long silence of him just standing in front of you.
“Oh,” he grins sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, they bet me to ask you out.”
“Oh,” you say, a bit disappointed. “Well, do you need help playing along or something?”
“No,” he says, his eyes widening at how that may have sounded. “No, they bet me to ask you out because I think you’re pretty. I saw you back at dinner last night as well. And then I saw you today. And I liked— I think you’re pretty. I liked your red dress last night.”
Your cheeks flare, and you can’t use the sun as an excuse— not when this boy graciously offered to shield you from it. “Oh, thank you,” you muttered.
He just smiled back, and you felt it’s strange how you feel no nerves right now. The last time a boy asked you out, you had run out on him. You had only approached him a week later to accept him, but by then he had moved on to sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat, but that’s hardly the point here.
“Well, what do you have in mind?” You asked, ignoring the gasp from your friend beside you. 
This must be too shocking for her, and you admit you’re just as shocked as her. But this is barely real life, it’s vacation — a sort of liminal freedom that comes with it. 
“Well, there’s this masquerade ball thing that’s happening a few streets away,” he suggests eagerly. “Live music and all that—”
“I don’t know if that’s within my budget,” you say, candidly.
“Well, it’s kinda free,” he replies, and your eyes rise up in suspicion. 
“Well, for me,” he continues. “My mother’s hosting the event, so…”
Ah, you think then. He’s one of those boys.
You don’t say anything for a bit. Thinking over whether you wanted to indulge and involve yourself with such a crowd. With such a boy.
He seemed a bit worried in your silence, so he spoke up. “But if that’s not up to your speed, I can—”
"No," you interjected, your decision swift and unwavering. "I like it. I’d love to join you."
At the sound of that he grins, a bit too widely in your opinion, but it has an endearing quality to it so you mirror his grin. 
“Fantastic!” He says, “I'll get the masks. And I’ll pick you up. It’s at 7. Ish.”
“I’ll meet you out by the reception then,” you confirm. 
A few seconds pass, and you watch as he still stands in front of you. “So, are you going to stand there until the sun sets or something?”
“Yep,” he nods. “I can do that. Well— No, I have a thing in an hour but I’ll ask my friend to take over. Don’t worry,” he shakes his head.
You chuckled in response. “Well, we were going to head back in in a bit anyway. So, I’m sure I can manage the sun till then.”
“You sure about that?” he grins.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you affirm with a wider grin.
“Okay. I’ll see you,” he waved. “At 7.”
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lunarzstarz · 1 year
Note
REQUEST:
Modern eddie munson addicted to video games.
He’s online with friends all the time and paying no attention to you. You’re getting tired of it so you stale action by riding him in his gamer chair still making him play the game and keep himself unmuted. After a lil he can’t take it anymore and powers down the game abruptly, carriying you over to the bed and fucking you until you can’t walk….🤭
loved this idea so much, sorry it took so long for me to finish had writers block, but I hope you like it! thanks for the request anon <3
Pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader
Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, handjobs, unprotected sex, PinV sex, slight dacryphilia kink? slightly proofread.
A/N: Sorry I've been gone for a little while, but I'm back and I'm working my way through requests, so feel free to ask for one. I'm also officially working on part 2 of "The No List" I don't know when it will be out though so if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know :)
Word Count: 2.4K
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You stood at his door for ten minutes, if you knocked any harder it would probably fall down. You knew Eddie was home, he’d just called you thirty minutes ago, asking you to come over, you just didn’t know why he wasn’t answering the door. Before you think about knocking again, you check under the doormat and of course there was the spare key.
Unlocking it and stepping inside you can already hear Eddie shouting at someone and that already tells you everything. You roll your eyes and shut the door behind you “Eds!” you call trying to announce your arrival, but nothing. Heading to the bedroom, there he was sitting at the desk, back to you. 
He had his headset on, eyes focused on his screen, still unaware of your presence. “Eddie!” you try again stepping closer a hand reaching out to tap his shoulder, he flinches. 
His gaze tears away for a split second to see who it was “Shit, you scared me” he gives you a smile. 
“Hello to you too” you return the smile and lean down to kiss him, but you’re met with his cheekbone when his head snaps back to the screen. 
“Shit!” he shouts, killing yet another creature in one of his stupid video games, one you had got him and immediately regret buying. 
“Hey, when are you gonna get off?” you ask, but your voice falls on deaf ears as he continues to pay attention to whoever is on the other side of the mic. “Eddie!” you give him a shove and his head snaps back to you. 
“Yeah, yeah sorry I’ll be off as soon as I finish this round, I promise” he rushed, immediately going back to the game without giving you a chance to protest. 
So you give in and lay on the bed, opting to mindlessly scroll through your phone as you started your long wait. It didn’t take long for you to get restless and tired of listening to him shout at the screen. You and Eddie had been seeing each other less and less lately with it being the busiest time of the year for you both, you thought finally after days of not seeing each other he’d jump at the chance to be with you, but it was clear that he had other things on his mind. 
Around the twenty minute mark he cheered, winning yet another game, you listened in on his conversation “Good game…oh I don’t know my-” he turned slightly to look over at you seeing that you were still looking at your phone “Okay…one more but after that I-.”
You reached for one of his pillows and threw it at the back of his head “Eddie!” he turned, looking apologetic “You know just because you’re ignoring me, doesn’t mean I can’t hear you right?” you glare at him.
“I know, I’m sorry, look just one more game and I swear I’m all yours” he sees your unamused impression, knowing he should have just got off when you got here, he was the one to call you over after all. 
“Fine, do whatever” you huff flipping over to your stomach so you didn’t have to look at him. He knew it was the wrong choice, but his friends were all calling for him down the mic, so he went back to playing. 
You had two options, leave and not speak to him for the rest of the day or give him a reason to get off the game. You weren’t about to leave, not when you had waited all week to see him and spent extra time that morning getting ready just for him, so you’d just have to take matters into your own hands. 
You got up and started to undress yourself, stripping down to your underwear, a set you had picked out just for Eddie, you weren’t about to let it go to waste. You crept up behind him, leaning down to place soft kisses to the side of his neck. He let out a small gasp, surprised at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his skin, but let you continue. 
You stalked around him so that you were in his peripheral, he took a quick glance, then went back to the game before doing a double take. His eyes scanned your entire body, taking in the time to memorize all your soft curves, lips parted as he practically drooled over you. 
He quickly muted himself “Give me two seconds, just to let them know I have to go” he rushes, but you stop him. 
“No, it’s okay, keep playing, like you said you can’t just leave your team in the middle of a game, right?” you say, repeating the excuse he had used on you many times. 
“But you- your- shit sweetheart you’re killing me” he reaches a hand out to run his fingers over the waistband of the lace underwear. 
“Poor you” you tut, no feeling behind it, he had you waiting what felt like hours for him and now he wants to get off “I think you can wait a few minutes and finish your game, go on.” 
You encourage him, he’s torn but his team is calling him, wondering why he wasn’t responding. He finally unmutes himself “Yeah, I’m here sorry” and with that he goes back to playing, this time a lot more distracted, stealing quick glances at you. 
You however weren’t gonna let him get off that easy. You reach down, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, he sends you a warning glare, but does nothing to stop you as you dip your hand into his pants. “Shit…” he gasps when you wrap your hand around his base, he was already half hard. 
“You gotta be quiet, don’t want anyone hearing you now do we?” you say, smiling down at him. He shook his head and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth to help keep himself quiet, trying to focus on the game and not the feeling of you stroking his cock. 
Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you tugged on his sweatpants, signaling for him to lift his hips which he hesitantly complies to. You climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, his cock only centimeters away from your clothed cunt. 
He quickly mutes himself again “What are you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth as you grind down against him. 
“What? I’m not doing anything” you say, trying to act dumb as you rock your hips again. Before he can respond he can hear his friends saying they need his help “Go on.” 
“You are, you’re trying to kill me” He sighs, unmuting himself again “Where are you?” he goes back to helping his teammates and you go back to grinding against him. He fights to keep his eyes from closing as you line him up with your entrance, his tip catching on it. You brace yourself, trying your best to stay quiet as you sink down on him, a small whimper passing your lips at the stretch as you seat yourself on him. 
His head is thrown back as your warm walls wrap around him, squeezing him tight. You start the slow rock of your hips, it was gonna be a lot harder to not make a sound than you thought, the feeling of him pressed against that sweet spot deep inside. Eddie ground his hips up to meet yours making you double over, head resting in the crook of his neck, you covered your mouth with your hand as a quiet moan escaped. 
Eddie was wearing a smug grin, your own plan had backfired, he knew you wouldn’t be able to stay composed, not while he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. One of his hands trailed down the plane of your back, coming down to cup the flesh of your ass and thighs, grabbing at anything he could get. You raised your hips and sunk back down meeting his thrusts, you bit down on his shoulder to try and suppress any sounds that threatened to escape. 
Eddie was losing it, his teammate’s calls for help long forgotten, his focus now fully on you. The quiet sounds that only he could hear coming from you left him wanting to fuck you senseless. “Eddie, please…” you whined and that was it for him. He removed his headset and shut off the monitor without any explanation to his friends who were left wondering what had happened. 
Both of his hands hooking under the backs of your knees “Hold on” being the only warning he gave you before he picked you up. You wrapped your arms around him, both of you still connected as he carried you over to the bed. He threw you down to start stripping himself from all his clothes. 
You watched impatiently, thighs rubbing together trying to create some friction to ease the loss of his cock, but it wasn’t long until he was on you again. “You really are insatiable, you know that?” he grins down at you, grabbing himself by the base so he could slide his tip through your folds. 
“Please..” you moan weakly as he taps it against your clit. 
“Please what?” he knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you beg for it. He caught his tip on your entrance, barely pushing into you, then pulling out again. “Come on, weren’t so shy when you were riding me, bet you wanted them to hear you huh? You wanted them to hear how good my cock makes you feel?”
He slid his hands up your body, freeing you from your bra and leaning down to place open mouth kisses on your breasts. He looked up at you as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, that had you mewling into his touch “Come on baby, tell me what you want.”
“Want you to fuck me, please” you wrapped your legs around his waist, hands in his hair to tug him closer to you. 
“Always so sweet for me” he leaned into you, your lips meeting as he guided himself into you. You whined against his lips at the contact, he didn’t waste time before thrusting into you at a fast pace, sliding over that spot only he could hit. 
It didn’t take long for you to become a moaning mess. Eddie was the one to break the kiss, sucking and biting at the side of your neck instead so he could listen to all the blissed out sounds you were making. He could tell you needed more though and he would always give you what you needed. 
He sat back, grabbing the backs of your legs and pressing your thighs to your stomach. You practically screamed as he started hitting you at a new angle, his pace picking up as he pounded into you. 
“Fuck! Please Eddie, f-feels so good” you babbled beneath him, it only made him go faster. Deep groans escaped him, his grip becoming almost painfully tight on the back of your thighs, rings leaving imprints on your doughy flesh. 
Eddie was trying not to bust his load just looking at you, the way your jaw was slack letting out the sweetest sounds every time his cock abused your g spot, the way your eyes were struggling to stay open because you wanted to watch him fuck into you. “Holy shit- so fucking wet for me sweetheart, pussy practically crying for me, just needed me to fuck you on my cock didn’t you?” he coos, now buried impossible deep in you, tip kissing your cervix. 
You couldn’t even form words to respond, you nod weakly as tears began to form from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. “So fucking pretty when you cry for me, making you feel that good?” he pants, thrusts faltering slightly as he could feel his own release approaching. “Shit, squeezing me so good baby, you close?” he asks, though he could tell you were holding off for him.
It had seemed like forever since you’d last been with Eddie, you didn’t want it to be over so quickly so you’d been holding off as long as you could, but it was becoming impossible, especially when you feel his fingertips over your clit. You jolt at the sudden extra shock of pleasure “Fuck! Y-yes m’close” you reached for something to hold onto, grabbing onto his shoulders. 
He used whatever energy he had to keep up his animalistic pace as he fucked you into the mattress, bringing you to the edge. “Come on baby, cum all over my cock” his words only encourage you further as you feel that coil snap and your orgasm wash over you, feeling more like it was crashing down in huge waves of pleasure. 
Eddies fingers were fast on your clit as he fucked you through it, feeling you grip down on him so hard, nails scratching his flushed skin, it had him spilling inside you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he moaned, each word punctuated with the slam of his hips. 
The room filled with nothing but your cries, his desperate moans and the lewd wet sounds of sex as you both rid out your highs. You were so fucked out you were seeing stars, your hearing going fuzzy. You feel Eddie collapse on top of you, finally letting go of your aching thighs. His chest heaving, bangs stuck to his forehead, the two of you covered in a sheet of sweat, but you were too far gone to care. 
He eased out of you, peppering kisses to your chest, neck and face to bring you around again. “Still with me?” he asks, you could only hum a response back and he smile. He sits up and disappears for a moment, you wait until you feel the bed sink next to you again before finally opening your eyes to look at him. 
He was staring down at you, eyes so full of admiration and love. “Here” he hands you a water, you sit against the headboard to take a few sips as he brushes the hair from your face. “Good?” he asks, hand coming down to soothe over your thighs, still trembling with the aftershocks. 
“More than good” you smile up at him “Should fuck you in your game chair more often.” 
He laughs, “Yeah, you should.”
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prncessjaeger · 6 months
Text
sugarcoat ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
being the smartest girl in your school has its perks, from the free high quality lunches, to the first access of the many scholarships, to even tutoring the cutest guys (and girls) in school, like now. you watched eren jaeger, one of the best and cutest hockey players in the school, work out his math answers correctly, but when he goes and chooses an answer out of four choices, he always chooses the wrong one. “hm…”
“what?” “nothing, just finish those up real quick.” eren nodded and completed his last two questions, giving you the sheet, and as you fully checked through every answer, your theory was proven correct. “eren? uh, you’re working the problem out correctly….but you’re choosing the wrong answer choice? i’m  just stating what i see…” eren looked around your small study shed you dad built for you, glancing at all the plethora of pictures, certificates, and band posters hanging on the walls, “uhh..” “don’t get me wrong, you’re very smart! but why choose the wrong answer?” you could see him biting his lip out of nervousness, and sighed sharply, “i wanted to...hang out?” “hang out?” eren nodded slowly and you carefully brought your hand up to cup his cheek, “well why didn’t you ask?” “you be…busy. and i’m with the guys all the time so-” “nah, i think you’re just too scared to ask me to hang out with you infront of your hockey friends…” eren’s head hangs low, “boy pick your head up, i ain’t mad at you, besides i guess we can hang out now!” you moved his work on a different table and turned towards him, and watched him stare at you in silence for almost 5 minutes, “so..what now?” “nothing i’m just….” he trailed off, his leg jittering rapidly. “nervous?” eren nodded again, “hm…” you got up and stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders, feeling him become less tense. you heard a small gasp from eren once he felt your hands rubbing further down his chest, wondering if eren was gonna stop you but instead he pushed you further, and you giggled in his ear seeing a tent in his lightwashed jeans. rising up, you moved infront of him, sitting on the desk and watched his brow raise. 
you moved your foot up to his print, adding more pressure onto his hard on, which caused eren to grab your ankle, softly whimpering. his hips lifted slightly, humping on the heel of your foot as his hands continued to hold your foot, even added more pressure ontop of him, “f-fuck,”
his whimpers echoed in the quiet shed and while now filing your nails, you yawned in boredom, wondering when was this ever gonna end.yanking your foot away, you put the nail file down and crouched down onto the hells of your foot, coming face to face with his pre-cum stained jeans and rubbing along his thighs again, looking up at eren through your lashes and sighed, “such a dirty boy, humping on my foot like a bitch in heat, right?” noddidng rapidly, he inhaled tensely feeling your hands unzip his pants, freeing up his confined dick and sighed in content when your soft hands rubbed along the shaft.
you build up spit and spewed it righ out on his pink tinted mushroom tip, sitting up some to start a set of rhythmic strokes in which eren moaned out louder, so loud you could probably hear him outside the shed. his hips hunched up but you weren’t going for that, “nope, sit still. if you don’t, i’ll stop, okay?”
“yes, y/n-”
“yes who?” his eye peeked open, seeing that taunting smile on your perfect features and when he felt your hands stroke even faster, he breathed out, “y-yes mommy, i’ll be good for you.”
“you’ll be good for me, huh? you promise?” one hand stroked his tip with quickness while the other rubbed along his shaft slowly, and the constant rhythm switches and change ups had eren see stars, “yeah- i p-promise,” your tongues lolled out of your mouth and eren watched spit drooled down from the tip of your tongue to his, and eren felt liike he was already in heaven, seeing your seductive face practically drooling on his dick was probably the best thing that’s happened to him since…ever! 
you could see him balling up his fists, knowing he could be on the breach of cumming, and once a loud “fuck!” was heard, you felt your hand being covered with ropes of cum and even some landed on your black framed glasses. you watched him come down from his high slowly, and giggled when he looked down at your face with a smirk,
“so same time next week?”
“s-sure..”
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ohmyamor · 1 year
Text
he’s kinda hot | K.HJ
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Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x reader
Summary: After a decent run with your boyfriend, you finally decide to end it when his paranoia becomes too much. Except, maybe he wasn’t crazy. And now you have a demon who refuses to leave you alone. 
w.c. 4.6k
Warnings: fluff, slight angst if you squint, minor character death he’s a dick don’t worry, mentions of blood and icky sounds but nothing is seen directly, suggestive content, cursing, desire hongjoong lives in my mind rent free
There’s something wrong with your boyfriend. 
You first began to notice his odd behavior a little over a month ago, but for the past week, it’s gotten progressively worse. 
What started off as slight jumpiness and anxiety has now turned into full fledged paranoia, to the point where he refuses to ever leave the house, having breakdowns over this ‘person’ who’s after him.
“What do mean you can’t go with me?” You sighed exasperatedly, crossing your arms and staring at the sad excuse of a man standing in front of you. 
A few months ago, you might’ve cared about how tired and worn-down he looked, but now? At this point in your relationship?
You really couldn’t care less. 
“Are you crazy?” Your boyfriend all but shouts at you. 
You feel your jaw clench at his tone.
“Do you know what’ll happen if I go out there?” he continues shouting like a madman. “He’s going to get me! They’re all going to get me! It’s not safe for me out there!” 
There’s a crazed look in his eyes and you feel a slight chill run up your spine. 
You don’t think you want to stick around any longer to find out what his tipping point is going to be. 
“Okay, then stay,” you spit, marching over to the couch to grab your wallet and keys. “Stay here and rot for all I care because you have been nothing but a paranoid piece of shit lately and you refuse to get help.” 
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for this episode or whatever you want to call it,” you wave your hands around, “to end, because I have a life and I am not going to sit around waiting for you to get it together.” 
“So this relationship ends here,” you glare at him. 
“Good luck getting by without anybody who cares about you,” you let the words hang in the air as you walk to the front door and exit the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. 
Huffing, you shove your wallet and keys into your pocket and begin the trek to the grocery store. 
-
After spending a few hours running errands and killing time, you’ve calmed down significantly. 
You had called your close friend Seonghwa on the way to the market, telling him what had happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend. 
“He sounds crazy,” Seonghwa had said over the phone. 
“I know Hwa, which is why I decided to end it because I refuse to stay in another relationship where the other person expects me to solve all of their problems,” you groaned. 
He hummed over the line. 
“Plus,” you continue. “There was this look, in his eyes and on his face, like he genuinely believed there was something out to get him.” 
Seonghwa is quiet. 
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It just gave me a really bad feeling and you know how I feel about gut instincts. I’d rather trust myself and be safe than sorry.” 
“Yeah of course. Honestly honey, I think you did the right thing. I never liked him from the beginning, but you were happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, but I agree, if you have a bad feeling about something, you should always trust your intuition,” Seonghwa reassures you. 
You let out a small laugh. 
“And don’t worry,” he continues, “You’re an amazing person and a great catch, so it’ll be no time before you have someone else falling at your feet.” 
You roll your eyes. 
Even if he can’t see you, Seonghwa’s known you for long enough to anticipate your habits. 
“Thank you Hwa,” you smile into the phone. 
“Anytime.”
The two of you chatted on for a little bit more after that, with Seonghwa letting you know he always had an extra room in case you needed to crash at his place for a while. 
You thanked him once again but refused his offer. After all, the lease on the apartment was under your name, and you paid most of the bills, so if anyone was going to be leaving, it’s going to be your ex. 
The conversation was definitely much-needed, and after the reassurance that you weren’t crazy for ending your relationship, you felt much more confident to head back to your apartment and kick out the man living there. 
Once you finally made it back to your building, you exited the elevator and walked down the corridor to your apartment door. Taking deep breaths, you began to steel your nerves in order to prepare for whatever breakdown the male might have. 
As you approached your door, you noticed that it looked slightly open. 
You pause in your footsteps, narrowing your eyes to see if the door was truly open or if it’s just a trick of your eyes. 
Dread begins to build in your stomach when you realize that your door is, in fact, open. 
It’s fine, you attempt to reassure yourself in your mind. Maybe he finally got the hint and left. 
Cautiously, you approach the door and push it open with your foot. 
Stepping inside, you notice how eerily quiet it is. 
Normally when you come back from work or running errands, your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself, is doing something to keep himself busy in his self-appointed quarantine. Whether it’s playing a video game or watching T.V., there’s always some kind of noise echoing throughout your small apartment. 
But now, there’s nothing. 
It’s also incredibly dark. 
Dropping the grocery bags onto the floor softly, you reach into your pocket to pull out your keys. You move to the turn on the light switch that’s on the wall, but freeze when you hear whimpering coming from somewhere in the room. 
You opt to not turn on the light, unsure of where the noise is coming from and also slightly terrified of what’s going on. 
You keep one hand on your phone, ready in case you need to call the police.
Quietly and ever so slowly, you make your way to the bedroom where the whimpering noise is coming from. 
The door to your room is slightly ajar, allowing a few rays of light to peek through. On the carpet in the hallway is a dark trail of something. 
You swallow thickly, hoping it’s not what you think it is. 
You stop in front of the bedroom door and strain your ears to listen to the noises coming from the room. With your heart pounding loudly in your chest, you come to the realization that the whimpers are coming from your ex-boyfriend. 
“Now, now, now,” a voice that is certainly not your boyfriend’s rings out. 
“Crying isn’t going to get you anything,” the voice chuckles. “You knew what the price of the deal was, and yet, you still tried to double-cross me.” 
There’s more muffled crying. 
“Silly human,” the voice says sinisterly. 
“Didn’t anybody ever warn you to not make deals with the devil?” 
The sound of flesh being torn reaches your ears along with pained crying, and you feel sick to your stomach when a metallic smell reaches your nose. 
You bring your hands up to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from gagging. You have no clue what you should even do at this point. Whatever’s in there with your ex is either an incredibly deranged human being, or something not even human. 
You don’t want to find out which one it is.
After what feels like forever, the muffled crying stops, and your stomach sinks when you come to realization that your ex might now be dead. 
The person inside the room sighs. 
“Open the door sweetheart.” 
Your blood runs cold. 
Raising a trembling hand, you move to push the door open, bracing yourself for whatever gruesome sight awaits you and whatever monster you’ll see standing in your room. 
Except, you see neither. 
There is no body in your room, nor is there any blood or gruesome mess. 
There’s also certainly no monster. 
Instead, a man sits on a single chair in the middle of the room. 
He has bright red hair and a slightly pointed nose. Jewelry adorns his ears and hands, and he wears a pair of dark dress pants with a white shirt that’s tucked in. His sleeves are rolled up on his arms.
If it weren’t for the small splatters of a red substance on his otherwise pristine shirt, you might’ve thought that what you heard before never happened. 
Your eyes drag over his figure before coming to rest on his face. The two of you make eye contact and a shiver runs down your spine at the wicked smile he sends you. 
“Did you enjoy our little show?”
You say nothing. 
The man sighs and places his hands on his thighs, pushing himself up off the chair. He takes a few steps forward until he stands less than a foot away from you. 
I’m going to die, you think.
I’m going to die a horrible and gruesome death and no one will ever know and i’ll never see my friends again and i’ll never say goodbye to my parents and-
The man chuckles.
“You’re not going to die.” 
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man reaches his hand out to gently grab yours. He bows slightly, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand while maintaining eye contact.
“My name is Hongjoong and I’m the demon who just took care of your pesky little boyfriend problem.” 
-
Was laughing out loud to the man’s, demon’s?, introduction the best choice?
Probably not. 
But you cannot be blamed for your habit of laughing in awkward situations. 
After all, here is this man, who just admitted to killing your ex-boyfriend, introducing himself to you as a demon and also kissing the back of your hand like the two of you were in the 1700′s. 
What sane person would have a normal reaction to that?
As soon as the sound made its way out of your body, your free hand immediately slapped itself over your mouth and your eyes widened in horror. 
If the demon didn’t have any plans on killing you at first, he’s definitely going to now. 
The man doesn’t say anything, simply raising a brow as a small smile takes over his face. 
“I’m glad you found my introduction so amusing sweetheart, but I can assure you, this is certainly real.”
As he said that, you watched in slight horror as his eyes faded from a soft brown color to dark pools of black. Swallowing, you attempt to tug your hand out of the demon’s grasp to try and back away, but his grip only tightens. 
He clicks his tongue and within a fraction of a second, his eyes have returned to brown. 
“Why are you here?” You finally muster up the courage to speak. Despite your attempts to sound even the slightest bit brave, the waver to your voice was obvious. 
Hongjoong sighs, annoyed. 
“That sorry excuse of a man you called your boyfriend was in my debt. I made it clear to him when he made a deal with me what the price would be, and he still attempted to evade me.” He rolled his eyes and for a split second, the demon reminded you of a parent whose child wouldn’t listen. 
“What deal did he make?” You question, your curiosity getting the better of you. 
The demon looks back at you. 
“Nothing that concerns your pretty little self,” he winks. 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his actions. 
“Considering you just killed him, I think it’s safe to assume it was a pretty important deal,” you challenge. 
A grin creeps onto Hongjoong’s face. 
“So you have the looks and the brains to accompany it,” his smile widens. 
You try to fight back the heat that was rising to your cheeks. 
Yeah, maybe he’s a demon who killed your ex-boyfriend, but he’s also an incredibly attractive demon who just called you smart and beautiful. Who are you to deny his compliments?
“But,” Hongjoong continues. “If you must know, he wanted to become wealthy and successful.” He takes a glance at your reaction. “And he wanted lots of women.” 
You can’t hide the disgusted look that makes its way onto your face. 
“That piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath. 
After everything you did for him, he still had the audacity to go behind your back, make a deal with a demon, and wish for wealth and women?
I really know how to pick ‘em, you think bitterly. 
Hongjoong continues, noticing the look on your face. 
“But no need to worry, sweetheart. I’ve taken care of your little problem, and I do think you come out of this fiasco the winner.” 
Your eyebrows furrow and you stare at him in confusion. 
Hongjoong leans in close, close enough where you can feel his breath on your face and his lips are mere inches from yours. His eyes have slowly begun to bleed black and another wicked smile makes its way onto his face.
“Now, you have me.” 
It seems as though demons share the unfortunate similarity to human males where they seem to be extra sensitive in between their legs. 
Unfortunately for Hongjoong, you had taken advantage of his proximity to knee him where the sun doesn’t shine. While he doubled over in pain, you take the opportunity to run out of your bedroom and head straight for the front door. 
I just need to get out, I need to call someone, I need to call Seonghwa-
Right as your fingers brush against the door handle, a hand grabbed at your wrist and yanked you back. 
Grunting, you land harshly on the floor, the breath being knocked out of you. A weight over your body makes you wince. Opening your eyes, you watch as Hongjoong straddles your waist, his hands coming down to rest near your head. 
He clicked his tongue. 
“Nice try cutie, but you can’t get away from me that easily.” 
Struggling, you attempt to shove him off of you, but despite his slightly smaller stature, the stupid demon won’t budge. 
“I didn’t make a deal with you!” You cry out, punching his chest. “You got what you wanted, so leave me alone!” 
Hongjoong lets out a chuckle. 
“I don’t think you get it sweetheart. I want you.” 
“Why?” You pant, your adrenaline slowly fading and confusion taking over. 
Hongjoong shrugs. 
“You intrigue me.” 
You can’t help but roll your eyes. 
“How romantic,” you say sarcastically. 
“See, this is what I mean,” he gestures down at your body that is still laying on the floor. “When I was dealing with your boyfriend, you heard what was going on and instead of leaving, you stayed behind the door.” 
He knew I was there the entire time?
“When I introduced myself, you laughed, and even after our entire conversation, you still had the gall to hurt me to try and run away.” He stares into your eyes so deeply that you can’t help but squirm slightly. 
“It’s called a fight or flight response.” 
Hongjoong giggles, and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently pinned down beneath the demon, you honestly might find it kind of cute. 
Sighing, you let your hands fall to the floor next to you. Hongjoong looks at you slightly amused. 
“So what, you’re gonna stick around and when you eventually get bored, you’re gonna kill me and take me soul?”
He tilts his head to the side. 
“I can if you want me to.” 
With wide eyes, you shake your head no. 
“That’s what I figured,” Hongjoong chuckles. “No, you haven’t made a deal with me, so I won’t take your soul. You’re just stuck with me now.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. 
“Great,” you sigh. 
-
In Hongjoong’s defense, having him around isn’t that bad. 
For the most part, he sticks to himself, observing you as you go about your day. 
“That’s really creepy,” you mentioned offhandedly one day. 
“What is?” Hongjoong questioned. 
“This whole, standing and staring thing you have going on,” you waved your hand around. 
“Would you prefer me to be up close and personal with you?” In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong is standing directly against you. 
Taking a step back, you raise your hands in front of you. 
“No, I’m fine, you can continue with your staring.” 
On occasion, he can be pretty helpful, too. 
You slam the door to your apartment open, stomping inside and throwing your bag on the floor. You throw yourself face-first onto the couch and let out a muffled scream. 
From where he sits at the dining table watching Netflix on your computer, Hongjoong stares at you, amused. 
“Is everything okay sweetheart?”
“No,” comes your muffled reply. 
If Hongjoong didn’t have incredibly sharp hearing, he would have a hard time understanding you. 
“Stupid Eric from work thinks he can just treat all the women like pieces of meat and get away with it because he’s the boss’s son,” you spit. 
You miss the way Hongjoong’s face darkens. 
“Did he do something to you?” He questions. 
You’re silent for a moment, debating if you want to say it out loud.
“It’s just,” you trail off, unsure how to say it.
Hongjoong hums, letting you know that he’s listening.
“He’s always made comments to all the women in my department, and those are easy to ignore, but today he got really close to me when we were in the break room.”
You can feel your body tense up as you relive the moment.
“Honestly, I thought he was going to try and do something, but luckily, one of our coworkers walked in before he could do anything,” you admit.
It’s silent for a few seconds.
“I’ll be back,” are the only words that come out of Hongjoong’s mouth.
You sit up abruptly from the couch.
“Huh?”
Before you can even finish speaking, Hongjoong is gone.
“So much for moral support,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the couch.
It’s not until late that the demon returns.
You’re sitting on your bed with a face mask on, scrolling through work emails when Hongjoong appears suddenly at the foot of your bed.
You jump slightly, only calming down when you realize who it is.
“Fuck dude, you can’t keep doing that,” you chastise him, trying to calm your racing heart.
Hongjoong says nothing, staring at you.
It’s only then you notice the way his eyes are completely black and he’s breathing abnormally hard.
A shiver crawls up your spine.
“Are you okay?” You ask hesitantly.
Still, Hongjoong remains quiet for a moment before rolling his shoulders back, a deep exhale escaping him.
“You don’t need to worry about that Eric anymore,” is all he says before walking out of your room.
Although you’re slightly horrified at the implications of his words, you also can’t deny the fuzzy feeling in your chest over his actions.
The most annoying part about having him around, though, is the teasing.
Hongjoong seems to have made it his mission to fluster you. 
Constantly.
You had just stepping out of the bath, a satisfied sigh escaping you as you wrapped a fuzzy towel around your body.
After a long week, the long, warm bath was incredibly needed.
Softly combing through your hair, you hum slightly as you go through your nighttime skincare routine, being extra thorough and gentle.
Once you finish, you open the door to your bathroom and step out into your room, only to gasp when you see Hongjoong laying on your bed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You exclaim as one of your hands reaches up to tightly grab the towel that’s wrapped around your body.
Hongjoong glances over at you, drinking in the sight of your damp body.
“Enjoying the view,” he winks.
You roll your eyes, walking over to the bedroom door and opening it.
“Get out.”
The demon pouts as he sits up on your bed.
“C’mon, don’t you think I’ve been good lately?” He stands up slowly and begins making his way over to you.
Hongjoong gets closer, a small smirk making its way onto his face.
“Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”
You stand completely still against the wall, gulping harshly. There’s a heat that builds in your lower stomach as you stare into his hooded eyes.
One of Hongjoong’s hands creeps up to gently toy with the edge of the towel that lays against your chest.
“If you ever feel so kind,” Hongjoong leans in to whisper against your ear. “You know where to find me.”
He leans away from you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Wordlessly, he walks out of your bedroom and shuts the door.
You quickly place the lock on it before sitting down on your bed. Placing a hand over your chest, you feel it beat harshly against your chest.
What the fuck was that?
-
Today is a particularly bad day.
From running late in the morning, missing your normal bus to work, and being reprimanded for a mistake you didn’t even do, you think your last straw is when it starts pouring on your way home.
Of course, the weatherman certainly did not predict this today, so you were left umbrella-less and with only a thin blazer to shield yourself from the elements.
And, with your incredible luck, a call from your mother nagging about why you haven’t visited in a few months and how you need to start thinking about a more serious career really seemed to tip you over the edge.
You don’t even make it all the way home, instead opting to go to the nearby park to sit and be alone for a little while.
The rain hasn’t stopped, but it no longer bothers you. In fact, you welcome the harsh sting of water against your skin. It’s the only feeling you seem to be able to comprehend at this moment.
You sit on the swing and stare numbly at your feet. There are tears making their way down your cheeks, but you cannot distinguish them from the rain.
You’re not sure how long you sit there alone.
Only the sudden lack of water pelting down on you causes you to look up.
Standing next to you in casual clothes is Hongjoong. He holds an umbrella over you, the rain beginning to soak his left side.
You hadn’t even notice him approach.
“You know, if you wanted to get killed or die from a hypothermia, this is a for sure way to do it,” he jokes.
You don’t respond.
Hongjoong notices your lack of response and furrows his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong sweetheart?”
His tone is gentle, probably the softest you’ve ever heard him speak.
You can’t stop the sobs that leave your mouth at his words.
Without hesitation, Hongjoong drops the umbrella and falls to his knees in front of you. He brings his arms up as you fall into the chest, your face burrowing itself into his neck.
He says nothing as you cry, rubbing his hands softly against your back and stroking your hair.
It takes a few minutes for your sobs to die down and when you do, Hongjoong gently pulls your body away from his to look at you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He questions, eyes searching your own.
The look of despair on your face breaks Hongjoong’s heart. His chest physically hurts at the way you seem to be in so much pain, and him, unable to do anything about it.
He can’t remember the last time he felt so distraught over a human.
“I’m so tired,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. 
A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks and Hongjoong cups your face with his hands, gently brushing them away.
“Then use me,” He says.
“Rest on me, take your anger out on me, hurt me, laugh at me, I don’t care.”
The raw honesty in his voice causes you to open your eyes and stare at him.
“It hurts me to see you in pain,” he frowns.
You let out a weak chuckle.
“I didn’t know demons could feel pain,” you attempt to joke.
Hongjoong doesn’t reply, only continuing to stare at you as if he’s trying to commit every inch of your face to memory.
“I feel so strongly for you it hurts,” he whispers.
Your eyes widen and you stare into his, trying to search for any inkling of deceit that will let you know he’s lying.
You can’t find any.
Your mouth parts, but no words come out. Hongjoong runs one of his fingers over your bottom lip.
“If you let me,” he glances from your lips up to your eyes. “I want to be your everything, the same way you are mine.”
The only thing that leaves your lips is a breathy sigh of his name. He leans in closer.
“May I?” He asks lowly.
You barely have a chance to nod before Hongjoong is crashing his lips onto yours.
The kiss is passionate, slightly desperate in the way he clutches onto your face and pulls you closer, as if you’ll disappear from his hands if he leaves even an inch of space between your bodies.
Hongjoong lightly nibbles on your lower lip and you let out a soft sigh. One of his hands has moved to your hip, where it rubs soft circles.
Eventually pulling away from each other, you lean your forehead against his.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” Hongjoong admits to you.
You let out a small laugh and shake your head.
“You’re like a million years old, I find that slightly hard to believe.”
He shakes his head no, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to rest against his chest where his heart is. Underneath your palm, you feel the way his heart pounds.
“This is all for you,” Hongjoong smiles.
“Only for you.”
bonus!
You and Hongjoong were enjoying a night in, laying down on your bed as a movie played on the T.V. Hongjoong had draped himself over your lap, resting his head on your stomach as you gently combed your hands through his hair. 
“You know, for a demon, I thought you would have horns or something,” you mumble, eyes focused on the screen. Hongjoong’s body shakes with slight laughter. 
“Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I have horns. That’s kind of stereotypical of you to assume,” he teases. 
You roll your eyes, lightly smacking him on the back of his head. 
“I do have fangs though,” he mentions after a couple of seconds. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Really?”
Hongjoong hums, leaning up slightly to face you. He opens his mouth and you watch as his teeth slowly become pointed. Gaping, you bring your hand up to softly run your fingers over the sharp edges. Your breath hitches slightly when you press the pad of your finger on the point of his tooth and it leaves a small wound. 
Grinning, Hongjoong crawls on top of you. 
“Do you like them?” he asks. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning down and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You let out a breathy sigh, moving your head to side to give him more access. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes when he drags the tips of his sharpened teeth against your skin. 
Pulling back to look at your flushed face, Hongjoong smirks, black seeping into his eyes. 
“Oh sweetheart,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun.” 
                                        ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
1K notes · View notes
shoyoist · 1 year
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Can i ask for ego smut😳 i feel like he'd be really into bondage and choking. Imagine him just talking to someone on the phone and his other hand's just wrapped around y/n's neck and fucking her dumb then if she ever makes a noise he'd just insert his index and ring finger in her mouth to shut her up aaaaa
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content: f!reader. unprotected sεx, light bondage, a little choking, gagging, edging, fucking while on a call. slight dumbification. an: you're so right nonnie!! except instead of his fingers in your mouth, he got a pretty present to help you stay quiet instead.
— . 。˚ ♡ ego enjoys testing your limits and seeing if you break.
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you're starting to feel dizzy.
ego leans back in his chair, letting out an irritated sigh into his phone as the JFC head on the other end of the line continues to blabber.
he talks casually, sounding bored as he rolls his eyes while going “yeah, yeah” like he's annoyed by whatever they're saying to him. “sure, i don't care. just get the system installed before the end of the week.”
he doesn't bat an eye, doesn't even let out a hitched breath — to give away the fact that he's got you sitting pretty in his lap, your cunt wrapped around his cock. it's like you're not even there.
but you are. you've got a cute little heart shaped ball gag in your mouth, and his free hand is lazily wrapped around your throat.
every now and then, he'll nudge his cock deeper into you, and you whine pitifully, teary eyed and impatient because he's been on that call for twenty minutes now, having picked it up right after he'd pulled you into his lap and got you to sit on his cock.
he's not taking care of you, even after he promised he would.
and he's even got your hands tied behind your back. you can't even help yourself. your clit's aching, begging to be touched — but his hand has remained around your throat the entire time, only once skirting downwards just to give your hip an absentminded squeeze before going back up.
“mmh,” he hears all your little whimpers and whines, but he pays zero attention. the only give-away that he's enjoying this so very much is that his cock throbs inside you with every pathetic flutter of your walls around him.
“mm, ego-san.” your words are barely coherent, tongue held down by the gag, and your voice is all pitched and slurred anyway, but he knows you're saying his name. he knows exactly what you want.
and he's not going to give it to you. not until he's done with this call that he's purposefully dragging out as long as he can, asking the JFC guy for more stuff to spark more protests and arguments from him so that he could stay on the phone longer.
will you be good for him? will you be his good, pretty little cockslut and sit on his dick and behave for him until he's done? he knows you will.
you're a good girl <3 that's why he likes you. because he can push at your limits, play around with you and toy with you as much as he likes — and you'll take it.
his eyes flash behind his glasses as you slump forward, lashes fluttering as you try to remain focused, doing your best to be patient. you twist your wrists behind your back a little, letting out a little, helpless sigh as the rope chafes at your skin.
sweet, pliant little thing.
he knows you won't cum until he tells you to. he knows you'll drive yourself to tears and sob, getting all hot and messy on his cock as you try to control yourself, as you try to shift into a less stimulating position. he knows you'll do your best and follow all the rules he's laid out for you.
which is why once he's finished with this call (in ten more minutes? fifteen minutes? twenty?) he'll untie you, admire the rope marks around your wrists and arms for a bit — and then bend you over his desk and fuck you dumb.
it's what you deserve <3
he plays a fair game, after all. if you do as you're told and give him what he wants, he'll reward you with what you want — to cum and make a mess all over his cock as he fucks you and fills you all up.
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2K notes · View notes
rayslittlekitten · 9 months
Text
All Eyes On You
A/N: Okay, it's finally done. This did not go where I had initially imagined it but I mostly like how this came out. I think it's kinda different from what I've written in the past. I tried to make this PWP and Jax being savage but I always add softness to Jax. I can't help it. Also, I don't know how porn sets are so, yeah. Didn't want to focus too much on the logistics of all that. Also, clearly this is AU. Hope this doesn't disappoint.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: 3,597
Pairing: Pornstar!Jax x Pornstar!F!Reader
Plot: Getting railed by Jax Teller is only one of the perks of your job.
Contains: porn star/shooting porn, sex work, some D/s dynamics, sex (PiV), oral sex (F and M receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, humiliation, name-calling (slut, whore), light spanking, light choking, dirty talking, masturbation, praising (good girl), cream pie, a quick moment of edging if you squint, aftercare
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"We need to find more honest ways of living."
Since Jax became President, he has wanted to steer the club away from the guns and other underground dealings. He was open to all ideas and for him, no idea was a bad idea until it’s been tried. When his business partner running the SAMCRO-funded and protected porn production company jokingly suggested for Jax to star in a few movies, he actually considered it. Getting paid to have sex? He's already doing it for free. Everyone's gotta earn their keep, right? Would it be too degrading? He's supposed to be the leader and he's leading his club into selling their bodies, maybe even their dignity. Not to mention the conflict of interest. Still, he brought it up to the table anyway and they voted on it. Surprisingly most voted yes, although mostly for pure amusement. 
What started as a joke to them actually became one of their honest ways of earning. Well, at least for Jax. The others didn't have the balls to do it, but that didn’t stop them from reaping the benefits of tagging along with Jax whenever he had to go shoot some scenes. Money doesn't lie and when they saw their revenue continuously multiply shortly after his debut released, they knew they had a cash cow. Since then, Jax had dedicated a day each month to shooting his scenes. As long as he agrees with the script, he has no problem. Sometimes he'd even make suggestions. He gets producer credit for those as well.
His content is the most exclusive one they have so they strategically make less of it. Gotta keep teasing his fans. Besides, he actually enjoys the attention. If it was any possible, his ego has inflated to be bigger than his dick and that in itself says a lot. It was as if God himself designed him to be a porn star. It was so effortless for him.
Their business has expanded so they their talent pool did as well and let's just say there is no shortage of women  - and men - wanting a chance at fucking Jax Teller. You're just happy that you're one of them who made the cut.
Your legs are pushed back to your chest as Jax has his face in between your thighs. You toss and turn your head, feeling his tongue and lips licking and sucking your folds. As you look off camera, you notice there are so many pairs of eyes on you as you lay there naked, spread so wide for the whole world to see your pussy getting eaten out by Jax Teller, suddenly getting a rush. Jax flips you over on your belly and he yanks your hips back so you're on your knees with your ass popped up. He shoves his face back in and you push back, moaning when you feel the tip of his nose nudge your asshole. Jax moves away and aligns himself with you. He shoves his thick, hard cock inside of you and you yelp. 
You brace yourself on the bed and turn your head to look behind you, at Jax as he pounds away, already quickly building an orgasm. You notice someone in the far corner behind Jax touching himself through the front of his jeans and you make eye contact, or so you think. He's a bit under the shadows and a studio light is blinding you, but it doesn't matter. This man is turned on by you getting fucked and that's turning you on. You can feel yourself getting more arousd with each plunge Jax takes and each stroke the mysterious man makes.
"Fuck, you're so wet," Jax growls.
"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" You warn and before you know it, your muscles contract on his cock and you moan out loud, maybe embellishing your cries just a little.
Jax continues to fuck you hard and fast, drawing out your orgasm.
"That's my girl," he praises and then smacks your ass.
"CUT! Let's get behind them and get a shot of her getting fucked from behind. Back in positions!" the director shouts.
"You alright?" Jax checks on you.
"Yeah, that was a good one," you breathe out while you wiggle your ass back into position, opening and exposing yourself to him and the camera.
"Think you can do that again, sweetheart?" he asks as his thumb slowly slides in and out of the entrance of your dripping slit, teasing you. 
You push back and mewl. Talents aren't supposed to engage in any sexual contact while cameras aren't rolling. Although it's not a perfect system, it helps to keep interactions professional and avoid unwanted advances. Fluffers exist for a reason. You and Jax are an exception though. You've been scene partners for a while now and are very comfortable with each other. You can't really say how it is for the other women he's done scenes with, but when you and Jax are fucking, you feel it in your soul and you know he can too. There's just this playful and cozy rapport between you two that allows you both to work together very well.
You swear Jax, the pleasure dom that he is - and what his onscreen alter ego is known for - always makes it a point to pull as many orgasms as he can out of you and you can't even fake yours. Not with him. He can tell when they're real but with him, you don’t even need to fake them. Your exes couldn't even figure out 10% of the ways Jax has learned the ins and outs of your body. Heck, he taught you a few things about your own body. 
Between cut and action are the times your pussy aches the most, missing the fullness of Jax's thick cock, stretching you out in all the best ways. People have said porn is fake, but it's not. Scripted? Sure, but it's not fake, at least not all of it. Actual penises are actually penetrating actual vaginas, assholes and mouths. You've sure tasted enough semen to know it's real. Your bruised cervix is more proof of it. Don't forget the sore jaw, but they're all worth it especially if it's all because of Jax. You're also reminded of why you love doing what you do when you notice all eyes on you and Jax again.
"Quiet on set!" the director warns. "Aaaand ACTION!"
You gasp when Jax shoves back into you without warning. He angles himself in favor of the camera, but pushes in deeper and faster. Your eyes wander again and find these two men wearing kuttes off to the side watching. You recognize the one you make eye contact with and you maintain it while getting railed. You've seen him around sometimes whenever Jax comes by. He smacks your ass and you yelp, pushing back against him, chasing another release. The man you're having a staring contest with shifts uncomfortably while adjusting the front of his jeans. You reach for your bare breasts and start pinching your nipples. Your hips stutter when you feel an orgasm close to sliding into home base. You clench and moan as you get closer and closer. 
"CUT! Okay that should be enough coverage. Moving on to uh..."
You growl in frustration when Jax stills his hips.
"Sorry, baby. I'd give you relief, but I think maybe we should save that for the camera," he teases as he makes his cock twitch while still inside you, making you cockwarm him between takes.
"Okay, so we're gonna transition to blowjob. Let's start from where we left off. Jax pulls out and then she turns around and sucks him off," the director tells the crew. "Then at some point, Jax, you put her on her back and go missionary."
You shudder suddenly when Jax spreads your juices around with the pad of his thumb and starts teasing your asshole with it, putting just the slightest pressure.
"Jax..." you pant.
"Shh. Be a good girl and hold it," he coos. ”Can you do that for me, baby?”
The line between fantasy and reality definitely blurs for the both of you sometimes, but you both also just enjoy each other that much. Finally they call action again and Jax starts giving you a few short shallow pumps, making you wail from relief, until he pulls out and spanks you.
"Come suck my dick," he commands, holding his cock out for you.
You manage to turn around so you're on your knees and elbows, face to face with his hard cock that's soaked in your juices. You immediately put your lips over his dark red tip and bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time you push in. As you jerk him, you ram his cock into the back of your throat, fitting as much of him as you can. Feeling your gag reflex surfacing, you encourage it to happen and then Jax fists your hair, pulling out a bit and pushing back in. 
“Danny, go in for the close up of her,” the director jumps in.
When the cameraman moves in, Jax palms the back of your head and you remove your hand to deep throat him again. He gently pushes your head down and you relax your throat, trying to get more of him. When you gag again, intentionally doing it audibly, he instantly lets go and you pull him out. He grabs your chin and tilts your face up so he can see it. Tears leak out of your eyes and spit from your puffy, slick lips.
"Look at you. So pretty," he praises.
His baby blues penetrate your misty eyes. You don't know if he's just a great actor or as charming as people claim he is, but you believe, at least in the moment, that he thinks you're pretty. You continue to look up at him, playing into the camera, as this is a close up.
"Get on your back," he tells you.
As you turn over and Jax climbs over you, the cameraman steps out of your personal space, returning back to a wider shot. Jax leans down and smashes his lips over yours. His hand comes up to your face and cradles the side of it as he deepens the kiss. You kiss back, slipping your tongue between his lips and licking his pearly whites. He opens up his mouth and intertwines his own tongue with yours, tasting each other. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back, kneels and brings one of your legs up to spread them without blocking the camera’s view. He taps his cock against your clit and then slides the tip up and down your slit, teasing you, causing you to moan and your hips to jerk. He finally pushes inside of you and you arch your back. He pumps away as he holds your leg up, the muscles of his tattooed back flexing with each push and pull.
“Are you gonna cum again?” he asks.
You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at where you meet. Your fingers reach in and you start rubbing your clit.
“Fuck, yeah, keeping touching yourself,” he encourages. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock again.”
With your next orgasm reaching the edge, your eyes wander to the man in the shadows behind Jax again. You see his hand is now in his pants and he’s unabashedly rubbing one out to this whole scene. Maybe he doesn’t think you can see him. You rub yourself a little faster and his hand matches your pacing.
“Oh god…” you start as you get closer to popping.
Jax drives into you faster and harder and before you know it, the coil snaps inside you and you cry out and arch up, thrashing as you ride the wave. You’ve already lost count of how many you’ve had as you’ve been doing this with Jax on and off already for the last hour or so.
“CUT! Okay, I think we’re gonna get to the money shot now. Are you ready for that Jax?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies. “Can we get five?”
“Alright. Let’s do five!” the director shouts.
As the crew breaks, you let your legs fall to the sides and stretch out a bit while Jax slips off the bed, standing next to it. He starts massaging your hips and helps you rotate your leg one at a time.
“How do you feel? Do you need a longer break?”
“No, I’m good. Let’s just finish this,” you reply. “You really like to stretch me out. It’s like I’m getting a yoga session in whenever we pair up. In fact, it’s probably good for my body.”
“Here we go, biiiig stretch,” he says as he throws one of your legs over, twisting your torso and applying firm pressure on your thigh, stretching out your lower back and glutes. Then he does the same with the other side.
A satisfying moan rumbles from your throat as you feel your muscles loosening.
"Are you ready to show everyone what a fucking star you are?" Jax asks as you straighten your body out.
Your smile reaches your eyes and that tells Jax all he needs to know. You sit up and then bring your legs behind you to kneel on the bed. Jax licks his lips as he looks at you with an equally proud smirk. While biting your lower lip, you reach down and start stroking his semi-hard cock, bringing it back to life.
As people start returning to set, the director checks on the both of you.
“Just another minute,” Jax winks at the director as you continue to jerk him.
“Alright, everyone in your places!” 
You start changing up your pace and technique, making him hiss and groan.
“Lay back,” Jax directs you and you fall back to return to your previous position.
He climbs back onto the bed and repositions you to the same one he put you in before the break and pushes into you, your dampness still so present. Your body melts, feeling so delightfully full again. 
“Are we rolling?” the director asks. After confirmation, he calls action.
Jax pumps a few times into you, getting you both back on track. He pushes your leg back even more, spreading you out and changing his angle. When it feels like the right time, he then switches positions, curling up behind you and slipping himself back inside you, still holding your leg up and back.
His other hand snakes up to the front of your throat and he pulls your head back. You can hear him panting right into your ear as he thrusts away, You couldn’t be anymore exposed right now with your legs splayed open so wide and Jax fucking you from behind. Only way this could get better is if you had a few more cocks to fill your other holes.
“Look at all those people looking at you,” Jax grunts quietly into your ear, meant only for you and not the camera. “Watching you being such a fucking slut for me.”
His words just about pushed you closer to yet another orgasm which you know is the intentions behind them. You push back against him, trying to match his thrusts and get a deeper penetration as you glance over at all the people watching you. Jax starts pinching your nipple and you feel it shoot down below your belly.
“They’re memorizing how your juicy pussy looks and sounds as I pound into you. Imagining it’s their cock your pussy is gripping. The sexy sounds you make every time I stroke you just right. How shameless you are and loving every fucking second of it.” Jax’s dirty talk is rapidly fueling your next release and it’s evident as the wet sounds get even louder.
"I bet those perverts are gonna sniff these sheets after the shoot too just to feel a little closer to you."
Nothing gets you off more than knowing the power you know you have over your viewers. The thrill of them watching you getting stretched out and brazenly defiled especially when they need to jerk off to you, imagining they are the ones balls deep inside you. You don't get to see most of your actual audience but the thought is enough to intoxicate you. It also helps that Jax knows how you bring the inner slut out of you. The dirtier it gets, the more you want. You're putting on a different kind of show than what your viewers may think. You're not doing this for them; you're doing this purely for yourself, getting off on these people watching you on display.
“They’re storing it in their spank bank for later and when they need to rub one out, they’ll pull it right up, jerking themelves and cumming to you because you so desperately need to get fucked like a whore over and over again, cumming all over every cock that fills up your pussy,” Jax adds as he punches up into you, your ass slapping against the top of his thighs. The squelching increases with each thrust, pushing your arousal out of you.
You also get a different kind of rush from being so sexually freeing. The blood rushes to your face and your groin when you suddenly feel like you’ve been caught doing something so naughty. Shamefully being shameless as your holes get stuffed over and over again. Embarrassed to be seen in such a state but at the same time not wanting to stop because it just feels so damn good to the point you don’t care who is watching.
"You're gonna give me one more?" Jax asks as he continues to pound into you. “Huh, baby?”
He hooks his arm under your knee to hold it back, spreading you even wider and this time, it’s his long slender fingers that dip down between your legs to rub your clit. 
"Come on, baby. Cum on my cock again," he encourages. “Just one more time.”
You slam your hips back against him, chasing your next release. Between his fingertips digging into the sides of your neck, the sweet filthy words spilling into your ear and him driving his hard, thick and long cock into your cunt, your body is already close to the end, but now him rubbing your swollen clit, it launches you right over to the line.
“Be a good girl and cum for me,” he grits.”Cum for me, you fucking slut.”
With that, your eyes roll back and you cry out. You are convulsing over him, your walls clamping down hard over his cock. 
“That’s it! That’s my fucking girl,” he growls.
His pacing maintains even after you stop flopping around.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too,” Jax pants, and then lets out a low moan as he empties himself inside you.
“Great! Danny, make sure you get a close up of the cream pie shot,” the director reminds him.
After Danny quickly repositions himself, Jax slowly pulls out of you and slaps your clit a few times, making you shudder. His hand reaches between your legs and spreads your lips open. You bear down and push his seed out of you. It leaks out of you and runs down to the crack of your ass. With your juices mixed in with his, he coats your lips with it using his fingers and runs it over your clit as well before sliding his fingers inside you, gently pushing it back in.
Jax turns your head to face him and leans in to kiss you tenderly. 
“Okay, that’s a wrap! Let’s break and clean up for the next shoot.” 
You continue to lazily make out with him, even well after cut was called. As the crew works around you and Jax, you stay lying in bed for a few more moments while stretching your muscles. Jax slips some shorts on and re-joins you, cuddling and spooning you after draping your robe over your naked body.
“Jax!” you giggle as he kisses a trail up the back of your shoulder and neck.
It’s almost unheard of but Jax always gives you aftercare after every shoot, especially the ones where it gets a bit degrading and painful. He does that with all his scene partners, but sometimes you like to imagine he only does it with you. Your mind starts drifting, falling into this comfortable and peaceful lull as he runs his fingers up and down your body that’s cocooned in his.
“Hey,” he nudges the tip of his nose against the back of your ear as he inhales your scent, waking you from your state.
“Hm?” you reply drowsily.
Then Jax finally pops the question you never thought he’d ask.
"You think you're ready for your first gang bang?" Jax asks.
Suddenly getting your second wind, you twist your body to face him and plant a kiss on his cheek, his smile now matching yours as your heart now grows full.
“Really?!” you ask as your eyes light up.
“I’ll even let you pick out your partners.”
Unable to contain your excitement, you squeal as your smile widens even more. 
“Okay, I think we should go get cleaned up and get outta here before they have to kick us out,” he suggests. “I’m laying on a wet spot.”
Jax affectionately boops the tip of your nose with this finger and then kisses your forehead before helping you out of bed.
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twistedinthreads · 3 months
Text
Lost In The Labyrinth
Part 1.
You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)
Playlist (a work in progress!)
A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!
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Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 
“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 
You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 
“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.
“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 
“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”
“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 
“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”
You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 
Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”
You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 
“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 
“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”
She just nods and lights a cigarette. 
As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”
He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 
“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 
His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 
Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.
“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 
“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.
“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 
When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”
“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 
“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 
“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 
“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 
He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 
“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”
“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”
“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 
“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 
You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 
“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 
He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 
Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 
After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 
When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 
You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 
“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”
You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 
The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 
Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 
And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 
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formulateez · 10 months
Text
1:32am | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
genre: literal pwp, except there is minimal plot, random horny hour drabble prompt(s): "i'm going to fill you up so good and make you mine." and "someone's going to hear us!" summary: classic fwb troupe where y/n and oscar try to fit in a quickie during a sleepover with their mutual friends asleep in the rooms next door word count: ~520
requested?: no, teehee, but i got faded than a hoe a few nights ago and wrote this at like 5am and it's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit because i've been too scared to post it LMFAO there also isn't enough op81 content so i wanted to add to it :) but, please reblog and leave feedback !! (but pls be nice otherwise i will cry)
extras: banners made using template by @/cafekitsune !!
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"Oh-fuck, Oscar-" You choke out, your hands running through Oscar's hair as his lips found all the spots that draw out heavenly sounds from you. “Please, Oscar, someone’s going to hear us!” You fail to sound stern as the Australian continues to ravage your neck.
“Fine with me, ‘cuz I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” he mutters out in between each kiss that he trails down your front.
It had been a couple weeks since you and Oscar originally made a special friendship agreement. You had invited him over one night to watch a movie or two, and the night ended with his face lodged between your thighs.
Oscar’s mouth and free hand occupy themselves with your nipples, while you buck your hips up to grind against him. “Oh shit, please.” Your plead leaves your lips softly as you ache for him to give you more.
“Please what, baby? Am I making you feel good, hmm?” Oscar hums as he continues to suck on your nipple, while he’s flicking your other nub between his fingertips. “Wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.“
“Yes, yes- fuck, yes. Please, Oscar, more-“ your pleads earn you a slight chuckle out of the guy above you as his fingers find their way to the waistband of your shorts.
“Quite talkative for someone who’s worried about being heard, don’t you think?” His lips are leaving faint marks along your collarbone and the tops of your boobs. Man, does he love seeing the very faint marks peek through the lower cut tops that you often wear during the summer. “You want more? Tell me what else you want, doll.”
As his fingers dip into your waistband, they start to lightly brush over your core as another soft, yet sharp, moans leaves your lips. You grab what you can of his hair and lightly tug him upwards to meet face to face with him. “Fuck- please fuck me, Oscar.”
“Yeah?” Oscar draws his hand out of your shorts as he starts to tug them down, along with your underwear before he throws them off to the side. “You want me to fuck you, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?”
“Yes, Oscar, please,” you breathe out, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt, wanting less barriers between the two of you. “Want you inside me, so bad.”
It doesn’t take long before both of you finish undressing each other, and his lips are finding themselves attaching to your neck once again. His tip is just barely teasing your entrance and he continues to work his way all over your neck and chest.
“I’m gonna fill you up so good and make you mine, princess.” Oscar groans into your ear as he slowly starts to push himself into you, enticing the sweetest of moans from your lips as you savor the feeling of Oscar filling you up as promised.
You both were, in fact, not quiet enough, as Lando was tortured with faintly hearing both of you moan. He quickly threw on his noise-canceling headphones, making a mental note to clown the both of you the next morning.
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genericpuff · 4 months
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Can you call Tina Belcher driving through a parking lot at an anxious snail's pace a driving "style"? So why do we try to use "style" as a defense for LO's pacing problems?
There's something about how Lore Olympus engrosses people within its weekly doses of H x P content and cliffhangers that makes people not realize just how long Lore Olympus takes to get to the point of, well, anything. Many plotlines are setup, and then go untouched for weeks, sometimes months at a time, before seeing any sort of progress, much less a resolution. In this, I'm going to actually give you time ranges on some of the more egregious payoffs and continuations of plotlines that were setup - some that are now resolved, others that have yet to see the light of day.
CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing the SA plotline, and there will be spoilers for Episode 265. I will also be showing pictures of some rancid ass tattoos, I know that sounds random for what we're discussing, but trust me on this one, I have a point to make. Also there's a Junji Ito panel from The Enigma of Amigara Fault... yeah, that one.
LEUCE
Let's start with an easy one that's not exactly tied to the main plot. The Leuce plotline. She was first introduced in Episode 201 as a 'bargaining chip' from Zeus to Hades, in a misfired attempt to get Hades to call a truce over the embargo between the Underworld and Olympus.
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At the time of this episode's release, by all accounts this seemed to be a cut and dry reference to Hades' first wife, Leuce, unfortunately reduced to a mail-order bride who Hades, of course, turns down, because he doesn't want the "I can't believe it's not butter" Persephone, he wants overpriced, tastes-the-same-but-costs-more-because-of-the-brand-name Persephone.
But then she came back, 36 episodes later - in real time, this was roughly 38 weeks for free-to-read users as the series went on a 2 week hiatus near the start of S3 - only to be used as a cliffhanger leading into a recycled Minthe plotline, in which she attempted to seduce Hades in Episode 238, only to be shot down for the second time.
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If you're having a tough time wrapping your head around how long 36 weeks really is, that's nine months. If you got pregnant when Leuce was first revealed, you'd be entering the final window of pregnancy by the time she returned, assuming the baby didn't come pre-term.
Another 7 weeks later, enough time to actually get pregnant again following that first baby, we got the sudden continuation of that plot, with Persephone invading her home and filling it with barn animals, with a not-so-subtle threat to Leuce to stay away from her husband.
"But what about the text messages? Were they really from Hades?" Well, if you were someone reading this comic in real time, you wouldn't have this question answered for another SIX EPISODES - that's a month and a half in real time - and the answer would ultimately be "she made it up, she was 'manifesting', none of it's real, they should call her Deleuceional!" Six weeks for a nothingburger answer to wrap up a nothingburger sideplot, all in the pursuit to 'prove' for the 1275903729 time that Hades and Persephone are truly meant to be together.
EROS AND PSYCHE
This is a big one. The Eros x Psyche plotline was one of the most popular romance subplots, second only to Hades and Persephone, throughout the comic. And yet, despite people holding their breath to see what would become of the star-crossed lovers, a mortal and a god-
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-readers in September 2021 would not find out how their recent skirmish with Apollo in Episode 171 would resolve itself until Episode 218, A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS - ROUGHLY 60 WEEKS AND A MIDSEASON HIATUS - LATER, and even then it would only show us Eros, who quickly summarizes what happened to him during the entire trial and Kronos arc that his anticipated romance storyline got sidelined for - he got married and now he has a child.
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And it wouldn't be for ANOTHER six weeks that his wife and the mother of his child would actually show up, not alongside Eros, but Aphrodite and Hephaestus, in Episode 224.
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What happened to her after finally having her 'true form' revealed to Eros? Well, that's not shown for another three weeks in Episode 227. During this a bunch of info about how Psyche got out of that sticky Apollo situation is dumped on us and we just have to go along with it as she becomes a goddess, not because she earned a place among the Olympians, but because Zeus needs her to spy on Apollo, which was actually shown one episode prior in 226.
So let's say you got knocked up again after that Leuce baby, when Eros and Psyche were shot out of the sky. Welp, in the time it took for Rachel to get around explaining what happened to the both of them, now you just had your second baby and for all we know, you could have gone for a third and already be well into or near the end of your first trimester, if you really wanted to get busy. You'd have a Dionysus, a Melinoe, and maybe even a Demophoon. Congratulations.
And speaking of Melinoe-
MELINOE
Turns out the interloper and the child in Tartarus were one and the same, or at least that's what I'm assuming, because otherwise that would mean there's some whole ass other baby to worry about that we haven't even been introduced to yet.
Melinoe, or "the child deity", was first established in Episode 218.
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But as per LO tradition, the child would only mentioned in passing every now and then until finally being revealed as Melinoe in Episode 252, a whopping... THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING WEEKS LATER.
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And that waiting is still ongoing as Melinoe is, of course, still trapped in Tartarus, with no end in sight. Since then, Hades and Persephone have gotten married, kidnapped a child, Persephone has terrorized a nymph and caused yet ANOTHER genocide, and they've resurrected a child that was suddenly revealed to be Demeter's. Thirty eight weeks and counting of dragging on a plotline that we're supposed to believe is dire while the characters do sweet fuck all.
What was the name of that other dream baby that Rachel referenced from some obscure non-legitimate source?
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Riiiight, Brimos. Congrats, there's pregnancy number 4. But can we find a way to make a fifth happen?
KASSANDRA
We're first introduced to Kassandra, another implied victim of Apollo's, in Episode 226 when a photo of her is found on Apollo's pen drive which was conveniently left on the ground for Psyche to swipe.
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In Episode 227, they theorize on how they could track down this mystery woman, using either Eros or Aphrodite's abilities to find her through the power of
✨love✨
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How will that actually work though? Has anyone ever been in love with Kassandra, or has she ever been in love with anyone else?
Any bets on how long it would be until we'd get our answer?
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Episode 251. The same episode where we're finally told about Leuce's delusions, we suddenly skip to the reveal of Kassandra being Apollo's personal oracle.
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And it still doesn't end up answering our question as to how Kassandra was tracked down, by the way. Eros and Psyche sorta just conveniently find her at the same time Apollo happens to be there when he's getting her to deliver her big prophecy to him.
That's twenty four weeks, meaning you're now near the end of your second trimester with child #4. Whoever the child is remains to be seen but I'm sure Rachel will find a way to shoehorn another helpless baby into the plot for Hades and Persephone to rescue who we can use for this metaphor.
But none of these come close to the greatest unresolved plotline of them all, the one plotline that has outlasted even the main H x P plotline of Lore Olympus' story-
APOLLO
Or more specifically, the SA. Rachel has tried so hard to twist Apollo into a villain of Disney proportions, through his sudden involvement with Ouranos, while also using him as a mouthpiece for her own critics by having him literally dish out word-for-word the criticisms that have been made towards Rachel's writing of Persephone-
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But the core foundation of his plotline goes all the way back to 2018, when he assaulted Persephone, a plotline that has yet to resolve itself or show any progression beyond Rachel's half-baked attempts at speedrunning Persephone's healing process, while Apollo is still at large and hasn't been brought to justice.
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We've seen her in very poorly-written therapy where her assault was addressed once. We've seen her grapple with the potential consequences of the SA through a gynecologist scene that, as I've discussed before, does more harm than good in helping the discussion around women's sexual health. And of course, Rachel will pepper in vague references to the SA every now and then when she's bothered to remember that it's a plotline she wrote and still hasn't resolved:
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And judging by how the story has been progressing, Rachel seems far more intent on simply using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism and a puppet for Ouranos rather than focusing on the bigger issues, all while Persephone has helped more people cope with the assault that happened to her rather than receiving help herself.
What's really telling is that despite half of the Olympians at this point knowing what Apollo did, not one of them even tries to convince Persephone to come forward, or say something themselves. Daphne has more than enough reason to come forward. Artemis, Hera, Eros, Hermes, and Hephaestus all know what he did, and yet none of them say a thing, even when those of them who haven't been conveniently shoehorned out of the plot are still in the same room as him-
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The assault scene happened in August 2018. It's been five and a half years since it was established, and while there have been small efforts made to resolve it - from Hera and Hephaestus having the photos deleted to Persephone seeking therapy - there's less reason now than ever for it to not be addressed, especially with so much at stake. I could side with Persephone not wanting to say anything in the beginning, when he was blackmailing her with the photos and her TGOEM scholarship was on the line, but now that she's a Queen, rich, and married to Hades, living in the Underworld where he can't get to her, without any schooling or scholarship or job to worry about or the photos hanging over her head, it comes across as flat out irresponsible that not a single person thinks it's worth mentioning. Even the narrative itself seems to be trying to undo the SA entirely.
At this point, I'm not confident it will be mentioned at all, and that Apollo will be conveniently dealt with as a pawn of Ouranos rather than as a perpetrator of violence towards women.
A FINAL ANALYSIS OF LO'S PACING
There are certainly far more examples of this weekly edging happening throughout LO, but I hope the ones I provided get across the point I'm trying to make about its pacing.
Of course, none of these gaps in time are happening back-to-back-to-back. This is Lore Olympus' writing "style", if you can call it that - constantly bombard the reader with separate plot points so that they'll either not remember the ones that were left behind, or so that Rachel can buy herself time to get herself out of the corner she wrote herself into. It's the equivalent of clickbait, constantly grabbing your attention with shiny new things that will replace whatever you just saw in your brain, on a constantly repeating cycle. It's the writing process of inexperienced amateurs, like what you'd see in short stories written by fifth graders - "and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened", with no theme or overarching meaning tying them together; and if you were to ask them why a certain thing happens, especially if it logically doesn't make sense, the answer is just, "well, because it does." There's no rhyme or reason, they just thought it was cool.
And I say "style" because while fans of LO have definitely defended the story's pacing as just a writing style, the actual execution of what they're implying is painful to watch and not what any experienced writer would call a legitimate style. It's not uncommon at all in long-running series like this to jump from plotline to plotline, often times longform stories like these have to balance multiple side plots at once to keep things engaging and to bulk up the plot with more actual content.
But in most cases, the reader will expect the speed of a plot's resolution to be relative to its urgency. If a casual B plot with low stakes is introduced, it's not necessarily doing any harm if it just sits there for a bit before finally being resolved. After all, it's low stakes and no one is being hurt by it existing on the sidelines. It might feel a bit like pointless fluff, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with fluff and it can offer fun and relaxed reprieves from the overarching narrative, assuming you integrate them well so they're not drawing attention away from those more urgent plotlines at the worst possible times (looking at you, Stranger Things S2 Episode 7-)
But when even the high stakes plots are being hung out to dry and treated like distractions and fluff, it comes across less like a decisive writing "style" and more just directionless pantsing from an inexperienced writer who's gotten themselves in way too deep.
And that's what really separates Rachel's writing problems from "style". Style is decisive. Style is the act of referencing over a set period of time, crafting what you like and what you've learned into something new, with rounds and rounds of fine-tuning. Style is experience put into action.
And, while I don't typically like using my own work as a comparison, LORE | REKINDLED is meant to try and recapture the original magic of Lore Olympus' art style and writing foundations - and even then, you can still see the clear difference between Episodes 14 and 44, which use the same panel from the same scene, but look vastly different due to the improvement and refinement that's happened over time.
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Same style, but different levels of experience and skill, which is to be expected after weeks and weeks of fine-tuning and deliberate practice.
If you're lacking in your fundamentals, whether in art or writing, you can't equate that lack of skill to "style" because you're not choosing to be inexperienced, you just are. And that's okay! But to try and pass it off as 'style' implies that you're choosing to be inexperienced - when in reality, if you tried to put out anything beyond your skill level, you simply wouldn't be able to, because you haven't gained those skills yet. Like fifth graders writing short stories with the "and then this happened" model, "it's just my style" is often used as an excuse by young artists and writers who don't understand that style is not exclusively an end result of inexperience.
I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but there's this controversial but trendy style in tattooing called 'ignorant', and it's best defined as "tattooing badly on purpose".
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These tattoos are regularly praised for their simplistic ingenuity and visual aesthetic but equally criticized for being the opposite of what many artists have worked to overcome - being "bad at art". After all, who would willingly pay for a bad-looking tattoo? It's because it's the style that's in demand. I would argue that it takes a lot of confidence and mastery of the craft to be purposefully bad at it and make it look good, as contradictory as that sounds.
As much as the lines may be wobbly and the anatomy poor, ignorant style tattoos are done purposefully by experienced artists who still know how to properly tattoo. As much as they may look like they were drawn by a middle schooler, they will still heal properly, the lines will hold up, and the client will not (or at least, should not) experience any excessive scarring or unhygienic practices as one would experience from an actual inexperienced artist-
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In a genuinely poorly-done tattoo, the evidence of the inexperience is literally written all over the body. The skin swells, the ink bleeds out, the lines are inconsistent in their depth, and there's clear signs of trauma to the skin that will undoubtedly result in a poorly-healed tattoo (and that's not even getting into the larger health risks such as contracting blood diseases due to a poorly kept space). It's not hard to see the difference between a bad tattoo and a tattoo that's intentionally bad.
It's the age old saying in a different medium - only once you learn the rules can you properly break them.
Rachel never learned these rules in her writing and it's evident to anyone who knows these rules and is viewing LO through a critical lens - or in my case, experiencing it on a week to week basis. It's a regularly occurring problem in the medium of webcomics as a whole - thinking that knowing how to draw is enough, and that writing comes dead last, if at all. When in reality, comics are a marriage of art and writing, you can't simply do one really well and allow the other to drag behind. That's not to say there aren't comics that succeed at having bad art and good writing, if anything a well-written comic can save bad art-
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But if you have a comic with good art and bad writing, that's when a comic opens itself up to harsher criticism. As much as art may be the visual forefront of comics, if you want to keep your audience along for the long road that stretches ahead, you need to have a strong foundation in writing, or at least, enough of a plan to ensure you're not driving in the dark. The art can be as gorgeous as you want it to be, but if the plot is weak, then no one will have any reason to check back in week to week.
And such is Lore Olympus' biggest weakness. Much of what we praise LO for back in its first season was simply its foundation. It's very easy to praise a story's writing when it hasn't had to payoff what it's setup. Having ideas is easy, and early LO is rife with good ideas - but many of those ideas have since fallen flat, even the ones you wouldn't expect.
Ideas are a dime a dozen, but actually executing them in a way that can be engaging from start to finish and resolve itself in a way that's satisfying is a whole other challenge that many creators, including Rachel, find themselves unable to tackle; and nothing is a greater example of that than LO's third season, which is now fumbling its plotlines that have failed to resolve themselves properly after 5 years, while introducing new ones that serve as mere distractions, as if they were a laser pointer aimed at a cat.
I hear the argument, "LO is a better story if you binge read it" a lot, which - while I can certainly understand in today's culture of content that's churned out to be binged - I still fail to see how it actually makes LO a better story. Binge-reading LO doesn't remove the pointless plotlines. It doesn't fix its blatant timeline problems, its retcons, or its inability to stay focused on one topic for more than 5 panels. All it really fixes is the waiting, the ritualistic toiling over each and every cliffhanger that caps off the weekly episodes just for them to either be resolved in the next week or left behind with no in-between. And while having all that waiting removed certainly makes the reading experience a lot smoother, it doesn't make the story or its writing better.
The relationship between a story's writing and how the audience experiences it shouldn't be overlooked. Many stories depend on how the audience experiences it within the mind to succeed and leave an impression.
Junji Ito utilizes the dreaded page turn to scare his audience, an effect that can only be truly gained and appreciated if you read his books in traditional print.
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Marvel spent years meticulously building up its Avengers franchise, culminating in a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic event through Avengers: Endgame, which is truly the epitome of "you had to be there", because if you watch Avengers: Endgame in 2024 in your living room, you're likely not going to experience the same level of hype as audiences experiencing it in the theater in 2019.
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The same can be said for James' Cameron's Avatar, which entranced audiences with its innovative motion capture CGI and immersive 3D effects, an experience that could only be lived to the fullest if you saw it in 3D in IMAX theaters back in 2009. Without that experience, most people in 2024 find the movie to be pretty generic and uninteresting, a reverse Pocahontas with blue people in space, but when it first released in IMAX theaters in 2009, it was a cultural and technological phenomenon due to how advanced it was in its VFX. I can't even share with you clips of it, because obviously it would just be proving my point to try and show you how groundbreaking Avatar was in theaters through a bad shaky cam Youtube upload of its IMAX release on Youtube, but let's just say that it wasn't uncommon for people to brag about how many times they'd gone back to watch the same movie just to feel what they felt from the first showing all over again.
All that's to say that while Lore Olympus may offer a 'better' reading experience when binge-read - regardless of whether or not it actually helps the story's pacing problems - the reality is that LO is still being written exclusively with the weekly format in mind, and its been very much to its detriment, both in the short-term and in the long-term. Readers are often left in the dark on plotlines for weeks at a time, Rachel loses track of what she has and hasn't addressed, and the extended waiting times trick readers into believing that weeks have passed in the comic's story, when in reality it's only been a day or two, sometimes as little as hours depending on the sequence; meanwhile, if you binge episodes that had those problems in hindsight, you'll likely be a lot more quick to notice how many plot beats are either retconned or abandoned entirely, because you don't have the weekly waiting times artificially inflating the pacing of the story and causing you to forget what was established weeks before, because when binged, those weeks are reduced to hours and minutes.
And worst of all, with the assumption that you're reading on a weekly basis - as it wants you to do - Rachel tries to pull clever stunts by matching up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays, which often just makes the story beats feel rushed or random in their execution - because to the vast majority of readers who haven't caught on to this or are reading the episodes through the physical books, they are rushed and random, and they can't exactly explain why.
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Binging these episodes doesn't solve the problem, if anything it exemplifies them because, as a shining example, Hades and Persephone suddenly get married right in the middle of an ongoing issue, which isn't exactly the best time to wrap up the story's main plotline. Since then readers have become less and less interested in their story, and can you blame them? By all accounts their story is over. Everything now just feels tacked on to give them something to do in a story they no longer fit into.
There's an episode behind the FastPass lock right now, Episode 265. It unlocks for free on February 17th, three days after Valentine's Day. Guess what episode it is?
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Ah yes, the episode where Hades' initiates sex without consent with his wife who's suffering from panic attacks, who also happens to be a rape victim. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.
I actually made this particular discovery while writing this essay, so that was a very unwelcome surprise, but it explains the sudden random shift from Persephone being so stressed over the ongoing situation that she's passed out to Hades just deciding for the both of them that now's the time to have sex. As much as the fans will defend this as a husband and wife's last chance at intimacy before diving into a dangerous situation, they'll also still conveniently forget - just like the narrative and Rachel herself - that Persephone is a rape victim, and Hades initiating sex with her after nearly having a panic attack isn't exactly a good look.
This is why our theories as to when LO ends are so firmly cemented in one specific time range, because the story's pacing and distractions seem only intent in one thing - getting the story to last until spring, when the series will most likely conclude. It's basically been all but confirmed by Rachel, from her stating the series would be ending in early 2024, to Inklore - an imprint that seems designed specifically for Rachel and LO - launching officially in spring of this year, undoubtedly just in time for Rachel to wrap up LO for good.
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(and boy, do I have some words about Inklore and its plans for "Rachel Smythe Presents", but that's another essay entirely.)
At the end of the day, LO's pacing is equivalent to paint drying on the wall, but it relentlessly convinces us to keep watching because the paint is blue and pink and maybe, maybe it'll turn into a piece of art. But as is evident in the comment sections of the newest episodes, even the fans are starting to realize that paint will not magically turn into the final piece of art they've been waiting to see if the hand that wields it doesn't know what it's doing.
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Though style may be gained as an accidental side effect of one's influences and experiences, what Lore Olympus' intent is remains to be seen, and the longer the story goes on, the blurrier whatever intent it could have becomes. Unless it somehow manages to pull off a twist of Attack on Titan proportions that thoroughly explains and ties together the plotlines that have been left in the rearview mirror, the vehicle that is LO will continue to trudge along at a snail's pace, until it inevitably either crosses the finish line or crashes - but by that point, anyone waiting for it could very well be gone, their good faith left behind at the starting line when there was still plenty of time to change its trajectory or stop.
Such a time is long, long gone.
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