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beskarandblasters · 1 month

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I Want It, I Got It

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Ways to help Palestine

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author’s note: Everyone say ✨thank you David✨ (my boyfriend) for this since it’s based off of a personal experience! 🤭 Thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading! 🩷

Summary: Joel gives you unlimited access to his credit card to shop online while he eats you out.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, porn with little plot, no age specified for reader, reader sits on Joel’s lap, established sugar daddy relationship, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, squirting, pet names (angel, baby), no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

“Angel?” Joel asks, looking over at you from his armchair.

“What is it?” you ask, glancing up from your book.

He pats his lap, signaling for you to take your rightful place. You place your bookmark and gingerly sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I have an idea.”

“Okay,” you nod.

“A new way for me to spoil you.”

Your eyes widen as you cock your head to the side, “What is it?”

He reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and hands it to you, his thumb tapping his American Express black card in the top sleeve.

“I give you this and let you order whatever you want while I eat that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Really?” you ask, mouth falling open and eyes lighting up.

“Mhm…” he says, trailing his hand up your thigh, “Bedroom. Now.”

You hop off his lap and walk to the bedroom with Joel following behind. He gives you a firm slap on your ass as you walk, getting a giggle out of you. You shed your t-shirt and sweatpants, tossing them in a pile on the floor but making sure to keep your phone and his wallet. You lie on the bed with your legs spread out as Joel situates himself between your thighs. For some reason, you’re nervous to do this. It’s not like Joel doesn’t spoil you constantly but never like this.

“Get my card out, angel,” he says, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

You slide out his card from the sleeve and run your fingers over the sleek, black metal just as he slowly licks your cunt, catching you by surprise.

“What are you waiting for? Treat yourself, baby.”

“O-Okay,” you breathe, opening the browser on your phone.

The first thing you can think of is lingerie so you search for Victoria’s Secret, scrolling through their endless catalog of bras, slips, babydolls, and garter belts. You stop at a black and red lacey set and turn your phone around to show Joel with shaky hands.

“I was thinking of getting this?”

He stops licking your pussy to look at the screen before chuckling to himself.

“What?” you ask.

“Baby, I don’t care what you get,” he says, lowering his head in front of your cunt again, “I just want you to buy whatever the fuck you want… Okay?”

You nod as he returns to licking your cunt. His tongue expertly flicks around your folds, outlining your entrance before making its way to your clit. You add the set to your cart and type in his credit card details along with your address.

Just as you place the order he pulls an orgasm from you. It’s so intense you have to put your phone and his card down to grip the sheets for purchase. Euphoric bliss washes over you but also a part of you is a little bummed… Is that it? Is he done spoiling you?

You go to prop yourself up on your elbows but his large hand presses gently on your tummy to coax you to lie back down.

“Not done, angel,” he says, lapping your release.

You grab your phone and his card again, shakily searching for the next website you’re going to shop on. An ad you got on Instagram for jewelry crosses your mind. They were selling necklaces with initials on them and you jokingly thought to yourself you’d get a J for Joel. Except now it’s not a joke anymore.

You pull the website up and end up picking out a set– a gold necklace with a J and a necklace that says Angel, Joel’s favorite nickname for you. The J necklace is a shorter length than the Angel necklace so you can wear them together. You’re tempted to show Joel but then you remember he doesn’t care what you buy. He just wants to spoil you.

You order the necklaces as Joel’s mouth latches to your clit. Your vision goes out of focus for a second, the screen looking blurry as your pleasure builds, your second orgasm nearing. Your back arches off the bed and stars dance in your already fuzzy vision. Your moans fill the bedroom and Joel hums into you as you cum. Your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled already.

As you come down from your high you search for your third purchase, wondering how many you’ll get to make tonight. You type in the website for your favorite online clothing boutique. And now you’re letting loose. You throw in dresses, skirts, pants, shirts, and a few pairs of shoes into the cart. You’re at the point where you don’t even need to look at his card to type in the numbers anymore, it’s all memorized now. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed.

He pulls away and smiles at you, facial hair glistening with your spend.

“You don’t even need to look at my card anymore, do ya?”

“N-No,” you say, chuckling with a shaky breath.

“Don’t stop now,” he says before placing his fingers in his mouth. As his tongue returns to your clit he inserts a finger inside you. You writhe on the bed while his finger presses against your g-spot. Your third orgasm is going to arrive soon if he keeps it up. It doesn’t take long for a second finger to be added, both fingers expertly making a come here motion. With one last swirl of his tongue and the motion of his fingers, you cum again. And this time it’s even wetter than the previous two.

You squirted. Liquid pools on the bed underneath you and runs down your thighs. You put the phone down and look between your legs. Joel’s eyes widen once he realizes what happened. He hums at the taste and amount of wetness you just produced. Your legs are trembling and tears well up on your lash line. You’re spent and if you wanted to cum again you don’t know if you could. Only Joel could make you cum hard three times in a row.

You lie back down on the bed and feel the soreness arise in your core. Joel pulls away and if you thought his face was wet before… Now it’s soaked.

“All done?” he asks playfully.

“All done,” you nod.

“Good job, angel. Such a good girl coming like that for me,” he says, moving from in between your thighs and lying beside you.

You hand him his hard and his wallet back as he pulls you into his chest.

“Now that you know my card number by heart… Order whatever you want whenever you want, angel.”

“...Really?” you ask, pulling away to look at him with a bewildered look.

“Mhm.”

You kiss him and taste yourself on his lips before resting in the crook of his neck. He rubs your back and lulls you to sleep, dreaming about all the packages you’re going to get in the mail.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🩷

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal #tlou hbo #pedrostories

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alastorsfuckassbob · 3 months

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We'll Meet Again

Alastorxfem!reader

Part two to "you're never fully dressed without a smile"

Plot: You're down infamously bad for Alastor. You work for a shift for Valentino and somehow you end up at everyone's favorite hell based hotel! I swear to god you will make physical contact with deal Al by chapter 3.

A/N: OH GOD THIS IS A LONG ONE, and honestly for an Alastor fic really Valentino and Angel Dust focused- but like any good story there are more than two characters so we should develop them✨

As always, minors DNI-

Somehow we got spicer and a bit more angsty so read the warnings and think critically if its something you really want to read

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Domestic Violence, Abusive Relationships

-Swearing

-Valentino (has to be its own warning)

-Smoking and Alcohol use

-Sexual Innuendo

"Y/n"

"Y/n, please let me hear you. Your voice lights a fire within me that I cannot ignore"

The static popped, heartfelt and genuine, the phrase echoing throughout the dimly lit room and deep into the pits of your soul. It reminded you of those late nights spent at the studio with him. Of the memories you had created with him, you spent the least time mulling over your time at the station. It was just too much to handle, you would sit for hours talking about whatever fancies fit the time, swaying to the complex chords and swing of the music. No matter what mood you walked in with, it vanished the moment your frame entered his arms. Your hand grazed the edge of your cheek in the mirror imagining how his hand traced the outline of your face as it so often used to do. The show had hundreds of listeners, you were speaking to the world so it would appear, but anything and everything you said or played was made strictly for each-other.

Here you were, lost in time once again. You had missed those little moments, far more than you anticipated. You had always been one to get lost following the tracks of memory. but this..this was different, your body felt as if it was buzzing. His honey lined transatlantic accent reverberated throughout your skull. Sickeningly sweet, holding desperation but still not depravity. It lacked the typical Sadism and savagery, a commonality in your hellish experience. The wicked pair usually found itself wrapped around your arm and caught against your throat. You had become accustomed to those feelings of desperation, but somehow his was different. He hadn't said much of anything and it felt like he had bottled every sweet nothing and loving whisper he had uttered in your direction throughout your life, and poured them into his tonality all at once. The static grew heavier.

"Y/-n y-y-N"

his voice became distorted and crackled. He kept speaking but the words were mangled and malformed. You couldn't quite make out what he was attempting to get across. You couldn't lose him not another time, even if you hadn't really "had him" again.

It was enough to send you into a fit of desperation.The incoherencies faded out, only deafening static remained .

"Alastor"

your wavering voice filled with alarm. You rushed to the radio nearly falling of the counter as you did so. You feverishly tuned the knob hoping for just another moment with him, even if it was just audibly. The electricity crackles, and dark grey smoke erupts from the small box and into your face. You cough rapidly upon contact. The fire sparks, promptly melting the exterior of the radio.

"shit fuck shit fuck shit"

You rasp between coughs. Something ablaze was not entirely out of the ordinary, yet you remained panicked. you thoughtlessly unplug the radio, scalding your hands in the process. Not knowing what else to do, you throw the newly aflame radio into the tub. It wheezes out another plume of smoke before sinking down into the water.

"well that isn't..ideal"

You decide its a tomorrow issue and head off to sleep. Still slightly shaken up, you throw on a silky nightgown and plop into your bed. You wouldn't find peace in your sleep, you never did. You closed your eyes unready to face your demons but too exhausted to care.

The next day comes to pass sooner than you'd care to admit. You don't feel well rested, but you can't find it in yourself to go back to sleep. Your thoughts are still so dreadfully plagued with Alastor. The way his lips felt on your own, the soft gentle curl of his hair. Everything aspect of him was so fundamentally perfect. Even his so called flaws. He may be an attention seeking idiot, but he was your attention seeking idiot. That was all that mattered. You'd be happy to do most anything to supply him his attention fix. You looked at the clock across from your bed, it was already noon. You had told Angel you'd be at the club around one. Unhappily, you rolled out of bed grabbing another outfit from your closet to change into. You applied some simple mascara, and tied up your hair. You could finish getting read with Angel Dust like you usually did.

You arrive at the club meet Angel, you liked to arrive a few hours before your call time just to talk with each other. You had vastly different schedules but you made it work. You walk through the lobby watching other scandalously dressed demons go about their daily life. You could have sworn you saw a flick of shadow watching you from behind the other inhabitants. You shook it off, you didn't sleep well, its possible you're just seeing things.

You arrive at your dressing room, and knock at the door. Its a calm and quiet environment. The eye before the storm working tonight will plunge you both into.

"the fuck do you want, can't a guy do his eyeliner in peace"

you roll your eyes before opening the door, he glances back at you.

"oh hey toots, didn't expect you so soon- you're not late"

"Fuck off angel"

you sit down in your chair and begin brushing out your hair. Val was very particular about the image you portrayed, even if your hair was already curly he'd want it to curl differently, If it was straight, he'd want it consistent coiffed to his liking.

If you didn't have hair he'd probably get you a wig of some kind. You glance down at the black porcelain mask on the counter. It was delicately painted with small golden roses. It was the only thing between you and an army of horny fans. Angel finishes his eyeliner with a small flick of a wing.

He stands up and takes the brush from you. He combs through the ends making sure there aren't any tangles left before grabbing the curling iron. To be quite honest, you both absolutely sucked at doing your own hair, so you did each others. It was nice, and he always made you look good. You had known angel for quite some time, you felt like you knew who he was but nothing about him.

He was always rather private about the details of his life before hell. You had gathered he was Italian by his sound, and that he had been involved with the mob from small anecdotes he sometimes shared.

It didn't really matter who he used to be, he was your friend and you loved him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible y/n, but you look like shit" He grabbed a strand of your hair wrapping it around the wand.

"oh gee thanks" you deadpan

"long night?" he asks releasing your hair from the curling wand scrunching it slightly.

"something like that, how about you, you look shockingly well rested, and i doubt its just the concealer"

"I'm staying at a new place" he continues working his way around your head.

"Val let you leave?" a hint of shock permeated your voice

"he can't dictate where i stay when i'm off the clock babe" He grabs a smaller curling want and begins with some small face framing pieces.

"does he know?" you ask hesitantly. You didn't want to upset him.

"I don't think he's caught on yet, probably figures I'm just out getting drunk and high off my ass"

"to be fair you often are"

"you're no angel either y/n" He rolls his eyes, he picks up the larger wand again and re-curls a few more of the back pieces.

"where did you move off to?"

You were lucky to have your own apartment. Most souls under contract with Valentino stayed in the complex....Your situation wasn't much better but it was enough. To be completely honest, you only lived about a ten minute walk from here. It wasn't much of a distance, but it was far enough Valentino would rather call upon some other, closer, unlucky soul outside of work hours to do his bidding. It was good enough. It was shocking to hear Angel had managed to find someplace with his cocaine habit and how little Val payed us.

"Its that rickety hotel on the edge of the Pride ring, I know it doesn't sound like much but its free" You almost visibly buffered from shock. How did he manage that? Then it hits you, he's probably sleeping there for free because he's sleeping with someone.

"who'd you have to fuck to get a room there"

"y/n" he groaned, slightly annoyed by your antics.

"No angel I'm serious, its hell people don't just give things out for free" you mused at his reaction.

"I didn't have to fuck anyone, its run by the princess, shes trying to rehabilitate souls"

"is that even possible" your mind began to swim with possibility.

"i dunno, i don't really care. It gives me a space to just exist..as myself..away from all of this"

your hand finds his way into one of his.

"i understand what you mean" your voice comes out no more than a whisper.

He continues curling your hair silently for a bit. Angel had his issues but he was a good person. He just found himself in a bad situation. Unexpectedly, he broke the silence. You two had a lot in common, including your tendencies of avoidance.

"you should live there too y/n, its free, and theres a bar, the bartender isn't too bad looking either."

You smile at the thought, it would be nice to get away from it all. Thats all it could be though, a thought. You were already on such thin ice with Val.

"Angie dear it sounds nice, but we both know I'm already Val's least favorite sinner. I shouldn't aggravate him more" you say with a defeated huff. Angel wraps another tendril of your h/c hair around the wand

"You can't let his life be your only life. I'm not stupid doll, I know you've been spending a lot more time around here." He's visibly and audibly frustrated.

He stays quiet for a minute picking up another strand of your hair.

"you're more than what you can do for Valentino okay? you were a person before you're still a person after, don't let him take everything from you." his voice becomes quiet, almost unrecognizable. Its velvety in a way, he speaks almost as if he's telling you just as much as he's telling himself Its the realest you've ever seen him be.

He quickly shakes it off

"his ugly mug cant be the only thing you see, I swear to god every time I look at him I throw up a little" He releases your hair from the curling iron stepping back to admire his work.

"now don't you look riveting" A jokingly seductive tone takes hold of his voice.

Your mind sparks with an idea, why complain about Val when you can just straight up mock him?

You stand up, rushing to the clothing rack, sift through the items before finding a long cherry red robe. Naturally its angel's. Its far too long for you, the second set of arms gets a little confusing, but eventually you slide it on. You sit back seductively on the counter mocking good ol Valentino.

"angel dust! you slut! you're fucking 20 guys before lunch! " You cross your arms dramatically before standing up on the counter. You strut across, being careful not to step on any of his things, but still maintaining the destructive energy Val usually carries.

A wild smile courses through your features, you grab the magazine Angel had been reading before you came in and throw it back into his face.

"Heres the 40 page shockingly kinky script about some kidnapping scene in France you have an hour to memorize, ignore the syntax errors and improvise!" He looks up at you baffled. I mean, you were right-He starts laughing uncontrollably,

"y/n what the fuck" he sputters out

You laugh along with him. He reaches up placing his arms around your waist, putting you onto the ground with very minimal effort. For a second you feel a bit like a house cat hopeless dragged off the counter. Angel was shockingly strong, for such a lanky guy he certainly wasn't flimsy or weak

A smug look overtakes his features

"let me show you how its really done"

He takes the robe off of your body and dawns it himself. He whips out a pair of bedazzled pink sunnies. Tilting them down, he gives you a cheeky wink. Once the knot of the belt is tied he is fully into character

"My siren! Y/n."

"oh god" you roll your eyes as angel begins his display. He walks across the room dragging you with him before twirling you into his arms. You cant help but be a little dizzy at the sudden motion.

"y/n, baby! You have made much so much money with that truly bodacious rack" He swings his arm around your waist. You both stifle a laugh as he drags his second set of hands across the shape of your body in the air in front of you.

"Angel I don't think Valentino would ever utter the phrase "bodacious rack", at least not in this existence" You form your fingers into little air quotes playfully rolling your eyes at him

"shh toots i am working on a real character here"

"Angel" you sigh

"shh" he hushes you again placing his finger against your lips.

Your collective antics go on for a little over two hours, stopping only briefly for you to style his fleecy hair. He looks at the clock before letting out an aggravated sigh. He pulls his body up from his chair.

"I gotta go doll, Val has me shootin yet another new movie before we shoot the scheduled "film", perks of being Hell's best actor" He grumbles grabbing his robe off of the floor leaving you alone in your shared dressing room.

You continued getting ready, expertly styling your newly curled hair and applying a thick coat of deep red lipstick. It wasn't too long after the door swung open. The suffocating smell of lust filling your lungs.

"My dear sweet y/n! how about we lose the mask for tonight?" Valentino burst into the room as if he owned the place. To be fair, he did. You still found it a bit off putting he didn't knock. Despite your profession, you valued privacy.

"Val-" You began, he cut you off.

"I don't believe I was asking." a smirk decorated his sly features.

"Respectfully, sir. It's not within my contract to appear as I truly am."

This shit again. Val was always on your ass about this. He always wanted more. Usually after a few minutes of arguing, he'd give up. There was nothing else he could do, so you don't think much of it. You pull out a cigarette, flicking the lighter, the small white stick begins to blaze.

You blow a cloud of hot red smoke in his direction. He rolls his eyes gritting his teeth in frustration. He takes a deep breath, sordid displays of force didn't work the best on you. You'd be frightened, but your stance would rarely change. Not unless he got physically violent, and quite honestly he was not in the mood today. You were not the most important thing to deal with. Its not that he didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to waste his time. He tries a lighter, more manipulative approach.

"Think of how much success your beautiful little face would bring us. Sinners and Hell born alike already get off to your body, its just revealing a little bit more"

"No, I won't do it" your voice is small but resolute. He didn't have the patience for this. As soon as the word "no" left your lips Val had begun to lose it. "Wasting time" became a lot less important. Members of the Ars Goetia family would be present in tonight's audience. You had to look your best, so he could look his best.

"You are going to out there without that fucking mask and give all of hell a good show. You won't like what happens if you don't listen." He growled through gritted teeth

"Its breaking the contract. Val" You take another lazy puff from your cigarette. He ripped the cigarette from your hand, throwing it on the ground. He was done with your shit.

"I own you. Did you forget that, I own your body and your voice. you speak only when i want you to. You fuck who I choose. The only thing you technically have a right to is your name, isn't that right my little siren?"

His voice is sleazy to say the least, the tone makes you shudder. You couldn't help but think,

...was he right? you had asked to be anonymous, you never thought to specify how. He continued before you had a real chance to observe your thoughts. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, snakelike and seductive. He was getting tired of this, tired of you.

"the mask is getting old, hell will get tired of you if you don't give them more. you won't like what happens if they deem you all washed up.."

You attempt to move away, His grasp on your arm grows tighter. You flinch slightly from the pain, but not enough for him to notice. He wants to elicit a reaction in you, perhaps if you stay calm he'll give up.

"I have some very specific clientele coming to tonights show I need you to wow them"

You could hardly believe the audacity. Sure, Valentino was always kind of a prick but this complete and total discount of your previously agreed terms was relatively new. He had suggested removing the mask before and brought it up countless times, but this level of disregard was new. Screw being calm you weren't about to be this fundamentally disrespected.

"No I won't do tha- " his hand waves cutting you off. your voice caught in your throat the sigil on your hand marking his ownership glowing a dull faded pink.

"I can do whatever I please. I've let you forget that, I've been going too easy on you. Rereading our little contract brought me the enlightenment I needed. Those who bite don't get to speak" he pauses moving away from you taking in your figure.

"it looks like you'll just be dancing tonight, and what a wonderful performance that is going to be."

The click of his shoes taps against the stark white tile as he walks towards the clothing rack in the edge of the room. He hums, picking out a dark red burlesque outfit. He exchanges it for the mask from the table and breaks it in his hand.

"I think a more revealing number will compensate more than enough for your silence..don't you?"

Your last defense had been shattered. The last ounce of your personage robbed for the sake of pleasing some sleazy unsavory high end customer. You tried to speak but the words stayed nestled inside of you. You wanted to scream or talk honestly you'd take a whisper at this point, still, nothing. The anger in your heart welled its way up into your throat and without an outlet, your frustration took root in your tears."Great" you thought, "just what i needed to look respectable, yet another crying fit."

He grabs you by your shoulders, it had never registered how small you were in comparison. You knew he was tall, but in ten years, you'd never noticed how much taller he was. Usually the moth hunched over in some way to communicate better as his eyesight is less than superior...Yet here he stood a good three or four feet taller than you, anger almost visibly steaming off of his purple fur. two of his hands grasped firmly on your newly bruised shoulder, the other on your neck, and the last raised and ready to strike you. Closing your eyes you accept your fate. the contact comes and as soon as it does you are sprawled on the floor. Unable to move, unable to run. You had never been strong enough to fight. After all you were still the same person you were in 1936 and long after that. Your nose gushes blood, splattering droplets onto the tile as he abruptly jerks you up from the floor.

"maldita cabrona! quién se cree que es?"

he tuts clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It sounds oddly like the loading of a gun. Every aspect of his body was drenched this newly violent attitude. His moth like horns lined with anticipation, twitching with every rigid breath.

Valentino had gotten rough with you before but not like this. This time, it felt more real. He leans in closer, his face directly in front of your own. From another angle perhaps the pose looked sweet,loving even. The thought made you sick.His arm rested against your shoulder, just forceful enough to cause you pain but not so harsh to send you tumbling to the ground again. The sharp talons tipping his long fingers traced the edge of your face, deep red blood madly racing after it. He would have killed you then in there if you weren't such a "valuable asset".

"Next time you'll learn to listen, I've killed fuckers for less than this shit you're giving me. If I don't have the patience with angeldust I certainly won't have it with you, even if you're named hell's favourite pequeña pecadora." He pauses glaring deep into your eyes

"I made you y/n, i can take that away and kill you myself whenever i please. try not to forget that again"

His inflection is wickedly sweet, but not sugary enough to hide his true malice.

He grunts in frustration, throwing you against the dressing room table, the back of your head shatters the mirror. An all too familiar feeling. He laughs viewing the position he's put you in, it is a dry, heartless, and dirty sound. The silence after is chilling. You close your eyes bracing for another impact that just doesn't come. He must have gotten bored with you, he usually did after a while. The door finally slams, the lights of the dressing room flicker and then click off. You slide down onto the floor, all you are left with is the small pool of blood and regret.

The performance that night felt like an eternity. Your skin practically peeling off as lustful eyes burned holes through your skin. You had drank a few more than too many cocktails. It wasn't nice to refuse a gift, and it kept you a little less than fully conscious. stumbling through the hallway you arrived once again at your dressing room. you sat down hopelessly viewing the dark purple bruises formed from your previous alteration through the shattered remnants of your mirror. So much for not "damaging the merchandise" as Val would so often say.A soft knock rattles you from your thoughts. the door creaks open and Angel Dust slides in. You silently look at each other's exhausted frame and scratched faces. Angel was the closest thing you had ever had to a friend, and just about the only person who could ever understand what you're going through. After all, your experience was modeled after his.

"Whats wrong y/n? cat got your tongue?"

Despite his exhaustion he kept up his usual performance. You didn't respond, you couldn't. The tears so expertly rimmed in your eyes threaten to fall. His expression falters and he walks up to you hugging you tightly. You didn't need to say or do anything to explain. He knew exactly what you were going through. For just a moment you relax into his arms.

A minute or so passes and you break the contact. You figure a little context wouldn't hurt. You motion to the glowing sigil on your wrist and then to your throat, hoping he understood the signal.

"You can't speak can ya doll?" He asked softly his hand ruffling your hair. You shook your head no.

"God i hate that fucking prick, he can't just play fair. Maybe if he did that sorry fuck wouldn't be making shitty porn and running washed out clubs for a living". He angrily paces around the room. As he speaks you grab an eyeliner pen and the back of some flier someone left taped to your door. It seemed like the easiest way to communicate. You messily scrawl the words

"Can I stay with you I promise its just for one night"

He takes the page from you a smile taking root.

"damn toots what happened to not mixing personal and professional life?" he joked. You sat there motionless, tears threatening to spill. He takes the hint and grabs a coat off of the rack wrapping it around your shoulders.

"I thought you'd never ask-I've been dying to hang out outside this shit hole. Let's head out, Its gonna rain soon and these boots are too hot to be messing with that acid bullshit"

He posed albeit dramatically earning a smile from you. He tilts his head towards the door and the two of you leave the messy dressing room behind. It was one of the few things you didn't have to worry about. After all, Valentino values appearances, any mess you had made would be gone in the morning. In one way or another, you could fuck up any way and make any mess, and Val would have it cleaned up. The only messes he wouldn't fix were the ones he made himself. The cuts on your body always lasted longer than your reflection in a broken mirror. Unlike you the mirror could be fixed.

Not long after you arrive at this so called "Hazbin Hotel"..you didn't have much to say other than it...seemed fitting. You walk up a few flights of carpeted stairs. His hand calmly connected to yours. He continues down the long winding hallway before reaching a large wooden door at the end. He unlocks the room, and it is exactly what you'd imagine it to be. An embodiment of everything "angel dust".

A few hours and a pack of cigarettes later, the rain starts. The acid falls from the sky burning sinners and generally..most everything in its path. The sizzle on the sidewalk almost sounds like the crackle of a record player. Leaning further back into his bed, you pull out yet another cigarette. Your hand waves, gesturing towards the box and Angel takes the last of the pack. He lights the end of yours first and then clicks the lighter again in an attempt to get his own fix. However the lighter had other plans, it pops and ticks before sputtering out completely. He strikes it a few more times to no avail

"Shit what does a guy gotta do to get a decent lighter in this shit hole"

His arms raised above his head in some odd exaggerated performance of anger. Despite the lack of necessity, you found the fake drama to be amusing. It reminded you of Alastor in some strange way. It was different than the usual drama you found yourself viewing. Hell is full of overdramatic assholes, at least Angel isn't.. cruel. You take the first hit of your newly lit cigarette. The pink smoke fizzling into your lungs, giving you a sense of calm you cant really find anywhere else.

"What you aren't gonna share?" he deadpans before he presses the edge of his previously unlit cigarette to yours.

You look at him as if to say "Angel you dumb bitch that never actually works you're just going to put mine out and then we'll both be miserable"

He rolls his eyes with his signature smug look. He presses his cigarette a bit closer to your own. Shockingly it lit up in a hot pink flame.

"Working with Val sucks but at least you learn a few useful things",

He deeply inhaled from his own newly lit cigarette, puffing the strawberry coloured smoke into your very clearly unamused face. Still. you couldn't help but laugh.. or you tried to anyway, not that it would have worked. You took another long delightful drag and sent the smoke his way. A fit of giggles ensued, at least on his part. You were just happy it worked and he didn't end up pissed off.

The action made you wonder, what if you weren't just meant to hurt others. perhaps you could light them up instead of burning them down. You sat there for about another hour, listening to Angel's sleep deprived rambles. It wasn't too much long after that your own exhaustion finally carried you safely into a well deserved slumber. It was peaceful, the most restful night you'd had since your fall into this desolate shit pit known as hell..For once you didn't "dream." You weren't haunted with his face. His shadow didn't suffocate you. The ghost of your past stayed simply that, a ghost.

The night passes swiftly. Almost as quickly as the stars had appeared they retreated deep into the hazy maroon sky and bright carmine clouds. The rain had stopped, somehow the damages caused weren't entirely discernible from the average look of things. It was then you heard radio static again.

Familiar and soothing, his gravelled voice broadcast to the denizens of hell.

"Good morning to all of you lovely listeners ! Today's broadcast is brought to you by hell's favourite sinner, what isn't to love about that little starlet. Tune on in dearest, I've been hearing so much about you."

the music started softly carried by the wind and into your ears. You felt intoxicated.

We'll meet again

Dont know where, dont know when

but I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through, just like you always do

til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

It was irrevocably, unmistakably unquestionably him.

Alastor, your Alastor.. was in hell. Not to mention an overlord (shocker there). Despite that fact, you were evidently on his mind. He was speaking to you and only you. There was nothing you could do to respond.

So you listened, to his voice, the instrumentation, the melody, everything. Maybe it would somehow bring you closer to him...

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you were no more than a few rooms apart, enjoying your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

a/n: I SWEAR I PROMISE YOU, ANGEL, AND ALASTOR ARE GONNA WRECK THAT LITTLE FUCKERS SHIT, dw

#alastor #hazbin hotel #ao3 #valentino #angel dust #valentino being a nasty fucker #im so sorry to all of the val fans i think hes rancid so the writing reflects that #alastor x reader

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01zfan · 3 months

Text

baby sugar daddy | j. sc

sd!sungchan x older!fem. reader | 4.3k words

the anon who requested a fic about sungchan and an older reader he’s obsessed with i wasn’t familiar with your game. seeing him sing replay to lee hyori woke something up inside of me. i added a little twist with making him your sugar daddy heh

contains: sugar daddy sungchan, reader is antons older sister, dry humping, sub sungchan, sungchan is a little freak and is obsessed with the reader

sungchan remembers the first time he met you. it was like a dream or a the reomantic part in a show where everything slows down. you wore a beautiful dress and had a smile that lit up the room.

you were holding the cake for his bestfriend; your little brother. you were in the kitchen all day making everything by hand. sungchan remembers anton explaining to him that although he wasn’t a child anymore, it was a tradition you couldn’t give up. it had also become a big deal because you let anton move in with you while he studied at college. living with you helped anton spread his wings, not having to worry about his parents disapproving of anything. so sungchan had already known of your caring personality. but when he saw your face, he didn’t stand a chance against you.

at first, sungchan thought he was good at hiding it. he would come over a little earlier than his friend just in hopes of catching a glance of you. it was hard getting you alone. anton had talked about where you were at in life, the busy hectic schedule of post-grad while sungchan had barely started college.

he would be studying for a final with anton and get a glance at you through a door opened a little too wide. he thought his glances were subtle, but they slowly turned to stares as he took the time to remember every part of you, what headphones you liked to wear, what shows you liked to watch, and what music you listened to. each time his eyes met yours he would look away and clear his throat. something about you was so mature and put together, it was something sungchan couldn’t pinpoint. your confidence had become an aura, permanently etched into your body like a tattoo. even if sungchan happened to catch you stumbling through the house early mornings in your pajamas you still seemed poised.

sungchan liked how mature you were, how sure of yourself you were. how you took care of yourself and dressed perfectly. how you pranced around in shorts and a camisole. it was awful because sungchan knew you didn’t mean to be a tease, you were just wearing what was comfortable around your apartment. but the way your soft skin was visible, the outline of your breasts peaking through the shirt. how you called him a “good boy” after hearing he aced his final. you were never embarrassed to let sungchan see you at any part of the day. sungchan on the other hand had to make sure he was wearing his best clothes when he went over to his friend’s house.

“why are you dressed nice?” anton would ask him curiously.

sungchan had to pretend like he didn’t know what his friend was talking about each time the question was asked. sungchan had to act cool when you passed by him, when you offered to get him or antonie food while you were out. you still managed to be a caring older sister to your brother while being cute in your own way. sungchan found himself wanting to be on the receiving end of a precious nickname. sungchan wasn’t good at hiding anything.

because of your confidence, sungchan was caught off guard when he saw the overdue bill on your counter. he blamed his nosiness, snooping around while anton was getting ready to go out. sungchan was meandering around your kitchen like a planet in orbit. he saw the bill tucked underneath your laptop on the counter. he looked around, making sure he was alone in the kitchen.

sungchan slowly picked up your laptop to free the bill. he saw the outstanding amount, other things in red ink that told you what the consequences would be if you didn’t pay. sungchan was so confused. if anton knew you struggled to pay the bills he kept it to himself, never indicating that you were struggling in any way. anton never hesitated to ask you for pocket money on his way out, and you never hesitated to give it to him. if anton knew you were struggling, he wouldn’t have asked. he knew who anton was, he would’ve put everything in his life on hold to get a job to help you pay the bills.

sungchan was thinking so hard that he didn’t notice you come into the kitchen.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

sungchan whipped around so fast to look at you he almost knocked himself off balance. this was the first time you addressed him in this manner. you sounded indignant, rightfully upset about your privacy being invaded.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have looked.” sungchan apologized immediately as you made your way to your laptop.

still composed, you took the bill and closed it in the screen of your laptop. it wasn’t in view at all. you kept your eyes trained on a sticker that embellished your plastic case. you were both silent for a moment. sungchan was terrified at the thought of you snapping at him, saying you were disappointed in him for snooping. he figured he should leave. as sungchan was about to leave you spoke quietly.

“did anton see?” you said.

“no. he went straight to his room to get ready once we got here.”

like a switch had flipped, the same signature smile appeared across your face. you were the same bubbly older sister that anton talked about in such high regard.

“that’s a relief. i don’t want him to be worried over nothing.” you said.

you grabbed your laptop and started heading towards your room. sungchan couldn’t stop himself from following you out of the kitchen.

“bills aren’t nothing,” sungchan said. he didn’t realize how loud his voice was under you looked at him with wide eyes. sungchan immediately changed his voice level, clearing his throat. “it said that your power could be shut off.” he whispered.

“sungchan, it’s okay. i always figure it out.” you continue to walk into your bedroom. sungchan doesn’t follow you all the way inside, staying in the doorframe.

“this happens often? i thought you had a job?” sungchan asks.

sungchan is very confused by your situation. he thought that you had a well paying job like anton had described a million times before. he never saw you go out or go shopping because he thought you were saving money. he had no idea you were barely scraping by.

“well i’m in between jobs,” you admit quietly. “please don’t tell anton.”

for the first time sungchan saw worry flash across your eyes. you looked worried, as if you were in denial too about your situation. everything became so real so quickly it almost knocked you off your feet.

sungchan could hear anton turn off the shower. he didn’t have much time until anton was walking around the apartment, looking for sungchan. he was aware his time with you was running through his fingers, he had to think of something quick. you still stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

“i can help you.” sungchan said quickly.

you looked at sungchan again wide eyed and speechless.

“w-what?” you asked.

sungchan was relieved you didn’t slice off his head then and there for assuming you needed help. he didn’t want to offer his help in a demeaning way, implying you can’t make it. he didn’t doubt that you had a plan, or that the moment you get a job again you’ll be all set. sungchan wanted to offer his help under his belief that no one as beautiful and kind as you should ever struggle.

“i can pay for all your bills,” sungchan said. before you could open your mouth to reject him he kept going. “i can pay for anything you need me to. i don’t mind.”

sungchan was realistic, he knew he couldn’t take all your pain away. but taking care of the material things like clothes, rent, and fancy food was the least sungchan could do for you. it was no secret that sungchan was well off. he had the type of money that was from generations before him. he wasn’t too sure of the lore, but sungchan was positive that it was all about dumb luck and cashing out at the right time. that’s how it usually was. he drove a fancy car and never had to check his bank account when going out. his bills were taken care of, and sungchan wasn’t much of a spender to begin with. he didn’t know what you were like with money either, but sungchan found himself not caring if you used his very last cent.

“sungchan i can’t use your money with a clear conscious. you’re my brothers friend.” you say.

“anton doesn’t have to know.” sungchan pleads.

“you’re younger than me.” you say, ashamed.

“that doesn’t matter. it’s the least i can do. i see the way you take care of anton. you deserve to be taken care of too.”

for a second, sungchan can see you thinking about it. when your face suddenly lights up, sungchan is expecting to hear a yes. instead, you look past sungchan at someone standing behind him.

“tonie! your outfit looks so cute!” you say.

you pass by sungchan to pinch antons’ cheeks. sungchan can’t help but smile seeing anton pull away from you, bashful that you’re doting on him in front of his friend. he was so embarrassed it that he didn’t ask when sungchan was almost in your room, or what you guys were possibly talking about.

“stop please.” anton said it in his signature soft voice with a smile on his face.

“where are you two going?” you asked.

sungchan was amazed at how you carried on, as if he wasn’t practically on his knees begging you to take his money.

“we are going to the movies and then meeting up with some friends at a party.” anton said.

“are these friends i know?” you asked.

sungchan found himself looking down and kicking his feet at you being a protective older sister. you had your hands on your hips, with a raised eyebrow. you technically couldn’t stop anton from going out, he was an adult. but he listened to you and answered your questions like a good little brother does. anton playfully rolled his eyes as you pestered him with questions about his plans for the night.

“yes you know them. it’s the guys from school. and it’s a birthday party for my other friend.” anton says.

“which friend?” you ask.

anton audibly groaned and you laughed at him.

“i’m just messing with you anton. you two have fun.” you say.

sungchan turns his heel to leave but anton stays in the same place. sungchan knows anton is about to ask you for money by the way he playfully hits your arm and smiles. now it’s your turn to roll your eyes as you grab your wallet from your room. you pull out two twenty dollar bills and give it to anton. he smiles, bringing you into a big hug.

“thanks big sis.” anton says smiling.

you groan and jokingly push him off of you.

anton follows behind sungchan towards the door and you shoo them out of the house. sungchan can’t get a final look at you when you close the door behind anton.

when sungchan and anton make it to the car, anton puts the money in his pocket. sungchan looks at his friend, thinking about the unknown stress he puts on you. sungchan tries to push it out of his mind, turning the keys. you are grown, you got it under control.

he doesn’t even make it halfway out the driveway before he’s putting his car in park. sungchan can’t bring himself to answer anton’s question on where he’s going and why he is leaving the keys in the ignition. sungchan is focused on more important things, moving up the stairs two at a time. he’s at the door in an instant, opening it to see you still standing in the same place.

wordlessly sungchan takes his black card out of his wallet and grabs your hand at your side. he’s lightheaded that this is the first time he’s touched you and he gets to touch your small soft hand that fits in his perfectly. he doesn’t get too much time to revel in the fact he gets to touch you, this mission is supposed to be fast and quick. sungchan turns your palm is upright and puts his card right in your hand. wordlessly he closes your fingers around the metal card, letting his large hand clasp over yours in emphasis. sungchan nods and smiles to your shocked expression, urging you it’s alright.

just as fast as sungchan came inside he was back out, stepping down the stairs casually. he goes back to the car and gets inside with a smile on his face. he smiles even when anton asked what he went inside for.

“i just forgot something.” sungchan says, putting the car back in drive.

he has never been like this before, begging someone to use his money. it was thrilling and sungchan couldn’t stop imagining how fulfilling it would be to see you enjoy his wealth. it made him extremely happy, he couldn’t stop smiling at his phone seeing the notifications of his card being used. the more money you drained from the card the happier he got. he imagined you smiling as you paid all your bills, if you took a look at all the clothing sites you never had the chance to buy things off of. it was intoxicating and sungchan was glued to his phone the whole night. if you hated asking for money he would slip it under your pillow like the tooth fairy. sungchan made up his mind then and there that he was going to give you anything you wanted.

you helped sungchan set up the ground rules. they were put in place by you not him. his attitude towards money was alarming to say the least. he didn’t seem to care how much of his money you used or how you used it. he didn’t want anything in return either. he just smiled and nodded listening to your every word and reading everything you wrote. you saw the words on the paper as rules but sungchan read them like it was a love letter written directly to him. he saw it as a testament to your self control and caring nature for others. you didn’t know but that night sungchan put your name on the card as well. it was all yours. anything you wanted was yours.

it had also started out innocent, but turned into something more. it started when sungchan started thinking about you enjoying asking for him money. if he begged you enough would you come up to him with your hand out and an annoyed look on your face. he wanted to hand you cash and have you tell him it’s not enough, being mean to him and asking for more. it made sungchan fall to his knees thinking about you reprimanding him for not coughing up enough cash. he didn’t know what came over him when his hands went into his pants that night. he came over his knuckles at the thought of trailing behind you holding your shopping bags of all the designer stores, calling him a “good boy” each time he swiped his card.

something changed in you too. you found yourself compelled to ask anton where his friend was more, if he would be coming over. sungchan would never be the type to ask you for actual “sugar” in exchange for the money. it was an odd arrangement, but it was one that excited you nonetheless. despite sungchan financially supporting you, he was obedient to you the same way a puppy was. he hung off your every command, driven by praise and the thought of making you feel good. you wanted to give him something, a little treat for all the clothes you have been able to buy and fancy dinners you attended recently.

so when sungchan would come by, you would wear something for him. it wasn’t over the top, something subtle. it would be something simple like not wearing a bra or wearing tights with a shirt that didn’t cover your ass. it was exciting, almost like sneaking around. sungchan was so shy, hesitant glances at you. you knew he was wondering if you were doing it on purpose, showing him what he could touch if he only asked you. you were becoming impatient, thinking that he didn’t want you. you were thinking this while sungchan lost himself every night. he was thinking of you in bed under your new high end sheets while you touched yourself. he had it so bad, thinking he’s never get a chance to relieve that pressure that built up in him every night.

it all came to a head when anton called him. sungchan answered on the first ring like he always did.

“are you busy?” anton asked over the line. “i need you to drop off this thing at my sister’s place.”

sungchan suddenly had a completely clear schedule. before he knew it he was meeting anton in between his classes and going to your place. anton had been able to pick up food you wanted, but his busy work day and hours of the place made it nearly impossible. you could’ve driven of course, but you simply didn’t feel like it. lucky for you, sungchan was more than willing to be your errand boy. sungchan made his way from campus to you, arriving in time for the food to still be hot.

you answered the door knowing who it would be on the other side. you planned out everything so anton would still be at school and you could be alone with sungchan. you answered the door in designer shirt and jeans, courtesy of the black card that still sat in your wallet. you grabbed sungchan by the hand, your second time ever touching him to pull him inside.

“i got you the food.” sungchan said, holding up your bag.

you took it and placed it on the counter. you don’t think sungchan would’ve moved from that spot if you didn’t grab him by the hand and lead him to your bedroom. he was stiff as a board when you closed your door behind him.

this was his first time fully in your room, just the two of you. stolen peaks inside couldn’t compare to seeing your room laid out before him. all of your trinkets and furniture came together. it was all you and sungchan was surrounded by it. your smell, your plushies, everything was in here. sungchans stomach was doing flips when you touched his face. blush creeped across his cheeks as he looked down at you.

“you’re such a cutie.” you said with a smile on your face.

sungchan couldn’t stop his shy smile from taking over all of his features. he thought he had reached the height and age where no one would ever call him cute ever again. but here you were, calling him cute in the same tone that you would coo at a puppy. sungchan’s pants were starting to become uncomfortable as his dick strained against the fabric. he prayed you wouldn’t look down and see how easily he was turned on by the praise.

“are you this sweet to all your friend’s older sisters?” you asked, tracing over sungchan’s collar. sungchan shook his head.

“only you.” he said.

“good boy.” you patted his cheek before walking away.

sungchan watched your every move. you sat on the edge of your bed and patted the space next to you. as sungchan walked over to you he could see your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch. a different smile adorned your face and sungchan slowly stalked over to you. everything about you had him on head over heels. even in this tension he could feel how warm and caring you were, extending something that had to be love towards him.

sungchan sat next to you and you started toying with the collar of his shirt again. you hands grazed over his neck and collarbone, tracing the bone that jutted out. sungchan had to close his eyes and bring in a shaky breath to calm his nerves.

“just relax. i got you ‘channie” you whispered.

you were in his ear now, the words knocking around in his brain like an echo chamber. your voice was sweet like candy but his new nickname came from your lips sounding like a taunt. it made him strain in his pants. he could see himself twitch against the tight fabric of his slacks. the sitting position didn’t help, making the fabric even tighter against his dick. if you talked to him enough in that same tone he would end up cumming in his pants untouched.

your hand trailed from his neck down to his abdomen. each button you came across on his dress shirt was expertly undone with one hand. sungchan could barely undo the buttons with both hands. you rubbed his exposed stomach as you continued to whisper in his ear.

“how do you want it?”

sungchan couldn’t think properly. he looked down from the ceiling at you next to him. he saw your clothes he hadn’t seen before and how good you looked in them.

“are those new?” sungchan asked.

he runs a timid hand along your side touching both your shirt and pants. he tried to keep a level head and calm voice as your hand sunk lower to his slacks.

“yep. you like them?”

in response, sungchan gets off the bed to kneel in front of you. he runs both his hands up and down your legs. you let yourself lean back on the bed, arms behind you keeping you propped up. you look at sungchan below you as he does his thing. he brings hands past your knees to your thighs. he’s not hesitant anymore, moving at a frenzied speed to feel you. he’s rests his head on your knee as he continues to touch you, eyes closed contently. you let out a breathy moan to let him know you’re right there with him.

sungchan looks up at you from your knee. he places a kiss over it. he continues to place slow kisses leading up your thigh. he’s looking at your reaction, needing validation to continue. you to bite your lip and he continues working his way up. butterfly kisses rest over the expensive denim until he reaches your center. you expect a kiss, or a hand to come to your zipper. you did not expect sungchan to stick his nose in your crotch and smell you.

he inhales deeply into your heat with tiny exhales. it’s like he’s trying to remember your sent, or that it drives him sexually. you gasp several times as he continues to do it. chivalrous sungchan was acting like a pervert, getting off on smelling your heat. it was intoxicating watching him behave the way he was, so different from the sungchan you usually see.

“such a sweet little freak.” you whispered as he continued to inhale you.

sungchan moaned at your degradation that sounded like a scolding. he took your leg and slotted it in between his. he brought his clothed dick close until he felt you. when his dick made contact with your leg he slowly dragged it up. he was a mess just at the indirect contact, whining about needing more friction.

sungchan leaned forward until his head was resting on your stomach. he was so tall even in his crouching position he was eye level with your breasts if he didn’t slouch. his current position he could feel your boobs resting on his head. he nestled more into your warmth and he continued to rut desperately into your leg.

“are you gonna ruin my new clothes?” you said.

your voice was borderline reprimanding and sungchan could feel the vibration of your voice ring through your whole body. it wrapped around him the same way a hug did. a hand that was gripping the edge of the bed moved behind your calf. he repositioned your leg so he could grind on it with more ease. he moaned and bit his lip, going further into you.

“i’ll buy you more,” the way he ground against your leg that particular time made him choke on his sentence. “i’ll buy you anything you want.” sungchan moaned.

he found a way to hit that particular angle again. he was trapped in the motion of rutting against your calf, clutching your leg desperately. he was close, he needs to tell you how close he was. you wrap your arms around him, bringing comforting and gentle fingers to his scalp. you kissed the crown of his head.

“good boy.” you whispered into his hair.

sungchan didn’t have time to warn you. he came in his pants whimpering pathetically into your stomach. his ruts were desperate and he wanted to stop, but his hips were moving on their own accord. they stuttered and then halted, stuck as he emptied himself into his slacks. his little whimpers didn’t stop until it turned to borderline cries and as thrusted his hips a few final times. he slumped against your leg, spent from months of finally releasing all that pressure. you rubbed his cheeks and back the whole time he was coming down, trying to ground him. your ministrations didn’t help calm his racing heart when the shame of what he just did set in. the wave of euphoria had washed away and he was mortified of how pathetic he must’ve looked, humping your leg like a dog. he also drooled all over your shirt and wrinkled the fabric. cum had seeped through his slacks and he got it on your fancy jeans. he looked up at you in horror expecting to be degraded but you looked at him with tenderness. you patted his head and helped him up, leading him to the bed as you told him it’s your turn.

#requestz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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blackhairedjjun · 1 month

Text

let me care for you - k.th

pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, comfort, sick fic, confession, tyun taking care of reader | word count: 723 | warnings: getting sick, food, medicine mentions

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - BEDSIDE: while sitting by the sick/injured/unconscious receiver’s bedside, sender reveals that they’re in love with them, unaware that the receiver is able to hear this revelation. (requested by @ur-mother-realnotclickbait)

author's notes: hi riel! this was such a fluffy and sweet prompt, and i totally see taehyun as an acts of service guy so this was lovely to write <3 i hope you enjoy!

actions always speak louder than words when it comes to taehyun, your best friend.

not that taehyun’s words are meaningless. for example, when you texted him in the middle of the night that you were feeling awfully sick, he sent only a single message: i’m so sorry, i’ll be right there soon to check on you. but the buzzing of your doorbell twenty minutes later speaks volumes, especially when you find taehyun standing on the other side of the door, a bag full of groceries and drugstore goods in his arms.

“it’s 2am...” you barely manage to get the words out. even speaking is exhausting.

he sets the bag down and pulls you toward him by the shoulders, his hand coming up to your forehead. his eyebrows knit the moment he feels you burning. “your fever is really high... you should lie down. i’ll take care of everything.”

“taehyunie, you...”

his hand traces the outline of your face before letting you go. “get some rest, let me help you.”

he helps you back to your bed, one arm around your waist to keep you steady, then leaves the bedroom door ajar as he busies himself in the kitchen so that you can hear him. he prepares hot soup and fills a jug of water, and sets aside your medicines and a roll of bread. your senses are so stuffed that you can barely smell the chicken and ginger wafting over, nor hear the clinking of glasses and spoons. but your apartment feels warm, not from your fever but from the presence of your best friend, and it isn’t long until your consciousness starts to drift.

what you don’t see is the worry creased in taehyun’s forehead as he lets the soup simmer. he understands that you aren’t seriously ill and that your bug will clear out in a few days. still, he can’t help but feel a little sting in his heart when he recalls the heat radiating off your skin or the sunken circles under your eyes. already he misses the brightness in your eyes and the sound of your laughter, and he wants to be part of making you feel better again.

you almost don’t hear him as he enters your bedroom and sets down the tray of soup, water, and medicines on your bedside table. meanwhile you’re caught between wakefulness and sleep, your eyes closed and one arm dangling over the edge of the bed. he sits on this edge, placing your hand in his lap. your skin is still hot while he cradles your hand in his.

“you’ll get better soon,” he murmurs to himself.

silence follows, and your breathing begins to slow. taehyun still holds your hand in his like a fragile gift. he remembers the confession he planned - a confession weeks in the making, yet every time he found the opportunity to say it his throat went dry. but in the middle of the night with you in sleep, courage finds him.

“i probably shouldn’t say this right now... but when you get better, i want to keep taking care of you like this.” he intertwines his fingers with yours. “i want to cook for you and go on those arcade games that you love, and make you happy again. you’re my best friend, but the truth is i want to care for you more... more than what a friend does. i love you, y/n. just let me show my love, please...”

he doesn’t expect the gentle squeeze of your hand in his. his eyes widen in shock, the realization hitting that you probably heard his first draft of a confession. but his fears subside just as quickly when he feels your thumb caressing the back of his hand, and your body shifting closer to him.

your eyes are still closed and you’re too tired to speak, but even your illness can’t stop the smile that spreads across your cheeks. you let out a satisfied hum and squeeze his hand again.

“mmm...”

with his free hand, taehyun brushes away the hair on your face. your smile widens even further. he opens his mouth to say more but instead opts to sit in the silence to let you rest. he can talk about how much he loves you when you feel better; for now he’ll show you.

#txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt x you #taehyun x you #kang taehyun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #taehyun imagines #txt fluff #taehyun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj originals #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤

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eloquentreverie · 7 months

Note

im thinking smutty thoughts abt tipsy lil s.r. after an avengers party (that asgardian mead tho)…needy, affectionate, super sensitive, just can’t keep his hands off you 🤤🤤 maybe a little subby streak showing through when you get home and ride him on the couch 🙈

𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve rogers x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After consuming several shots of Asgardian mead, Steve can't keep his hands off of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, unprotected p in v sex, steve being a flirty menace ( yes, that's a warning), fluff at the end, little use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k+

a/n: Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this. I've been wanting to write more Steve fics. I hope you like this!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Laughter resonated through the air, blending with the clinks of glasses within the walls of The Avenger’s Tower. By tradition, it was Tony Stark who orchestrated these extravagant soirees, yet this time, the honor had befallen Thor. A grand feast adorned the buffet table, showcasing Asgard’s most beloved delicacies, but the centerpiece of it all was an immense pitcher brimming with Asgardian mead.

Remarkably potent, even for a super soldier like him, the alcohol proved to be Bucky’s undoing. After merely three cups, he succumbed to its intoxicating embrace, collapsing right beside Natasha on the couch across from them.

As she surveyed the room, taking in the array of assembled Avengers, Steve’s interjection abruptly interrupted her thoughts.

“Let’s go home, please?” he whispered, his hands roaming over the soft fabric of her dress. Throughout the party, Y/N noticed the mead had affected each person differently. After only two drinks, Steve had become very horny, touching her and kissing her neck.

A small smirk curved on her lips before she turned to face her boyfriend. “Why? I thought you were enjoying the party?” she asked, taking a sip of the mead, allowing the warm sensation to travel down her body as it hit her stomach.

His cheeks heated as his blue eyes stared back at her, and Y/N realized how good he looked in a suit. Even though she did not care for parties or formal affairs, Steve had put much effort into making sure that she looked the part.

Steve’s hand found her waist, bringing her closer to him as he leaned down until their foreheads touched. “We can stay if you’d like.” He whispered, and the smell of liquor on his breath made her smile grow wider.

Her hands traced the outline of the muscles along his chest. She could see how dark the blue irises of his eyes became, dilated by the drink, and she noticed his arousal growing against his slacks.

“Actually,” he said in between kisses on her bare shoulder. “Maybe we should just find a bedroom so I can take you now...”

She chuckled as he nipped lightly at the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, causing a pleasant shudder down her spine. “I think I need to get you home.”

“Sounds great!” He pulled away, grinning from ear-to-ear and placed another kiss upon her lips before guiding her toward the exit with an arm around her waist.

The alcohol had made Steve unusually enthusiastic about leaving the party, especially since this was one of Thor’s infamous shindigs.

However, as soon as they got in the elevator, he found himself pinning her against one of the walls, his tongue hungrily devouring her mouth. It took all of Y/N’s power to pull herself away and push him back.

As soon as the elevator reached the ground floor, he grabbed hold of her arm and began dragging her behind him, practically running toward their car.

“Are you forgetting we still have to drive home?” she joked, giggling softly as their footsteps reverberated off the cement and throughout the parking garage.

She unlocked the vehicle with her key fob and before she could open the door; he turned to kiss her once more. His lips pressed passionately against hers, making her almost forget her purpose. Finally pulling away, she laughed loudly, pushing at his broad chest. “Hop in!”

In response, Steve released a long moan as she pushed him harder until he landed on the passenger side. She quickly went around and jumped into the driver’s seat before buckling herself. But before she even managed to start the car, she felt him run his fingers up her bare leg, starting at the top of her thigh and tracing his way toward the hemline of her panties.

She groaned but not in annoyance, and glanced briefly over to Steve, who sat there patiently smiling mischievously as though he’d already guessed correctly what would happen next.

“Just hurry home, will you?” he teased playfully, removing his hand and placing it on his knee. She shot him a mock glare and placed her foot on the accelerator, driving faster than she usually did, careful to stay within the speed limit.

A few minutes later, he placed his palm atop her knee and slowly trailed his touch upwards, sliding beneath the bottom half of her dress while moving along the skin of her thigh. Immediately, goosebumps rose upon her flesh, and her whole body trembled violently despite the fact he had yet to reach anything remotely dangerous.

Her breathing quickened as her heart rate increased dramatically, and she sucked in a shaky breath when she noticed he still continued traveling upward until, finally, he halted.

She clenched her teeth when he ran two fingers gently over the area where her thighs met her pelvis, right above where she desperately needed friction.

When she refused to react, he chuckled lowly, leaning forward so that his lips hovered near her ear, then nibbled at the outer shell before whispering huskily. "You know, you look so good wearing this outfit, but I can't wait to tear it off."

They stopped at a red light. She looked over at him, shooting him another warning glare. “Steve,” she said between breaths. Then she realized it was pointless because he was clearly enjoying torturing her.

“Yes?” He asked innocently, arching an eyebrow, although she suspected he knew exactly what she was going to say. In response, her entire being shook with arousal once more as she tightened her grip around the steering wheel, willing the damned traffic light to change soon.

When it did, she pressed her foot down firmly, her car racing down the highway. All she wanted to do was make it home, but he made that impossible.

She’d been so busy staring at the road that she didn’t notice how his fingers slid past the silky fabric of her panties and into the drenched valley between her legs until she heard him growl, satisfied.

His fingertip brushed lightly across her slit before he drew them back out and slipped the digit inside of her aching core. She gasped loudly, losing all concentration on the task at hand.

Instead, she focused solely on the feeling of his fingers circling around her entrance, spreading the moisture from her pussy as far as possible and coating every inch of her cunt until everything burned deliciously with need.

Steve’s voice broke the silence once again. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon.”

“S-Steve, you’re gonna make me wreck the car,” she whimpered, and she thought to herself, damn the alcohol. He withdrew completely, pressing down on her clitoris hard enough that it caused another wave of intense pleasure to flow through her body.

He remained silent for the rest of the journey back to their apartment. When she finally parked outside of their building, she let out a deep sigh of relief before grabbing hold of the keys and shoving them into her purse.

Her hands shook as she grasped hold of the bag strap and made haste to get out of the vehicle as quickly as she could. As she stepped onto solid ground, he yanked the keys from her hand before locking the car doors.

She spun around to glare at him as he tossed the keys back inside of her bag before throwing it over his shoulder and wrapping an arm tightly around her waist. His other palm grasped firmly onto hers as they hurried up towards the floor of the complex.

Upon reaching their residence, she nearly slammed the door behind them while he leaned against it. She breathed heavily as she watched him remove his suit jacket, folding it neatly before hanging it over the knob of their closet. Then he proceeded to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, removing his belt before slipping off his shoes.

“Never tease me like that again,” she growled before leaning up and kissing him roughly.

A sly smirk formed on his lips, revealing perfect white teeth. “You loved it, sweetheart, don’t try to lie.”

His words elicited a low moan as she tugged him back down for a searing kiss. Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck and into his hair, tugging harshly as she dragged her nails down his chest. He shivered against her touch as he kissed along the exposed flesh of her throat.

“I need you. Badly.” His hands gripped at her hips as he stumbled back near the couch. With one swift movement, he sat down, pulling her down on his lap and straddling him.

Y/N whimpered into the kiss while wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning closer to his firm muscles. She felt his bulge brush against her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine as she ground her body against his groin.

A groan escaped from his lips when she began thrusting her pelvis into his abdomen, causing her wetness to spread against the front of his pants, making him groan louder in frustration. Suddenly, he pulled away, holding her at arm’s length.

She immediately whined loudly, feeling deprived, but when he brought a single finger to trace her lips, she ceased protesting. She glanced at him curiously, noting how his pupils dilated with lust as he stared deeply into her eyes.

Slowly, he moved both hands to rest atop either side of her ass before squeezing firmly. When she gasped in surprise, he grinned devilishly.

“I need you.” Steve whispered, hands trailing up her sides as if he was trying to memorize every curve and dip. He leaned in to suck a mark upon her jawline, licking a stripe down her neck that sent chills racing up and down her body.

He hummed softly into her ear, enjoying the reaction he’d gotten, continuing his exploration, mapping out every inch of bare flesh he could reach, savoring every little moan that came tumbling from her mouth. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, unable to stop the moans erupting from deep within her chest.

Her body seemed to respond on autopilot, arching itself against him in desperate desire, silently begging him. She slowly reached down to unzip his slacks, and he moaned appreciatively, leaning back, watching her movements intently.

He smiled up at her, looking much happier than he should considering how much mead he’d ingested. The expression on his face warmed her heart, making butterflies flutter in her stomach, even though she tried not to let them overwhelm her.

She bit her bottom lip softly as she slowly tugged down his pants, leaving only his boxer shorts. His erection was extremely noticeable under the soft fabric, and she couldn’t resist palming him gently through the thin material.

“Please,” He whined into her ear, bucking his hips upward against her hand. His head tilted backward, and he sighed softly as her fingers dipped below his waistband and began stroking his thick cock.

She couldn’t believe how smooth and soft it felt in her hand, and how hard he really was underneath all that silkiness. His tip leaked pre-cum, which coated her fingers.

She wrapped her hand around the base of him, twisting her fist slightly as she pumped up and down. His breathing grew labored and his chest heaved erratically. “Ugh, baby, I can’t- please..” Steve moaned, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushions.

With another stroke, his whole body spasmed, and a small cry escaped his parted lips. His eyes squeezed shut as his face scrunched together, appearing strained. It appeared he struggled to hold himself back, yet she felt his muscles flex involuntarily every time she stroked him just right.

After several strokes, she let go entirely, much to his disappointment, and crawled up closer until her knees pressed against his legs, bringing their bodies flush against one another.

He opened his eyes lazily and gazed at her adoringly before leaning up to kiss her passionately, his tongue plunging into her mouth and exploring eagerly. She moaned into his mouth before she pushed her panties to the side, positioning his cock at her entrance.

She sank down until he bottomed out. They moaned simultaneously as he filled her completely, stretching her tight walls with his girth. She braced herself on his chest, giving herself leverage to rock her body back and forth.

He gripped her thighs, helping to keep her steady as she rode him. The sensation of his hands rubbing against her heated skin excited her. Each stroke sent tingles throughout her entire being, making goosebumps erupt across her arms.

Steve didn’t know if it was still the mead coursing through his veins or if it was her, but he needed this. He needed her. He needed more, and more, than he currently had.

His arms wrapped around her waist, holding onto her like he was clinging for dear life, and maybe he was. He pulled her tightly against himself, burying his face in her neck as he thrust upward, pumping furiously into her. He groaned into her neck as he licked and sucked at her skin.

His body trembled, straining, as he fought back the urge to release too early. He clenched his jaw, concentrating solely on pleasing her instead of focusing solely on his own pleasure. He loved hearing the sounds she made, gasping for air, mumbling incoherent things. “Steve, baby. Come in me. I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, thrusting his cock hard against her cunt. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her down as he pumped frantically into her wet heat, chasing after her orgasm. He felt it building within her as well. He could tell by the way her breath caught in her throat every time he plunged deeply into her pussy.

The way her back arched perfectly when he brushed along her sensitive spot. She whimpered, crying out in ecstasy as her muscles tightened, milking him for everything he could possibly give her.

And finally, when she threw her head back and screamed out his name, he let himself cum deep inside of her. He shuddered violently against her chest, filling her completely. He grunted as he emptied his load, coating her inner walls. After riding out his climax, they both collapsed onto each other.

Her forehead rested upon his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat as he struggled to regain his normal breathing pattern.

She snuggled close, resting her cheek against his strong shoulders as they both basked in their post-orgasm high. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head affectionately.

After a few moments, he spoke, breaking the silence, “I love you.”

The three words held meaning, yet there was something new about them tonight, as if they had transformed somehow, becoming deeper and fuller than they usually did when spoken in everyday conversations.

She lifted her face to look at him, a smile playing across her lips.

He studied her features closely, noticing how hot and sweaty her skin glistened with the aftermath of sex. He admired how beautiful and angelic she appeared lying upon him, looking down at him with such intense love radiating in her eyes. “What?” She asked curiously.

He cupped her cheek and caressed her tenderly. His expression softened into an affectionate grin that warmed her heart. She could hear the fondness in his voice as he uttered, “You are perfect.”

A soft chuckle escaped her mouth before she nuzzled against his palm lovingly. She turned her attention towards their tangled limbs and whispered, “No...not quite perfect...”

His brows knitted together as he furrowed his brows. “I disagree.”

“Hmmm, care to elaborate?”

He pressed a gentle kiss against her brow, then brushed aside stray strands of hair behind her ear. He gazed upon her face, taking in every detail; his hand trailed down her temple.

“Perfect beauty.” He murmured softly as he stroked his fingers along her jawline, causing Y/N to giggle. She kissed him, allowing herself to be lost in the warmth of his embrace. “I think you’re still drunk on Thor’s mead,” she teased, making Steve chuckle.

“Maybe so,” He admitted before lowering his lips to her ear, brushing the lobe between his teeth and sucking lightly. “But you, my gorgeous girl, are most definitely the definition of perfection.” She sighed softly, melting into his touch as he trailed his fingertips across her back, massaging her tense muscles.

“What if I wasn’t perfect?” She mumbled into his shoulder.

His fingers paused as they stroked over the curve of her ass, pausing as he contemplated her question.

Her body tensed as she felt nervousness rise within her, wondering whether or not he’d truly accept her imperfections.

A low rumble of laughter escaped from deep within his belly before he released her from his grasp and sat upright. He took her hand between his own and gazed deeply into her eyes. “If that were true, I’d still love you,” He stated assuredly before he leaned forward, placing a delicate peck against her lips.

“And no amount of liquor would ever change my feelings towards you, Y/N. Because if perfection is unattainable, then I wouldn’t want it. And neither do I need it, because nothing is worth being without you.”

Y/N sniffled, swallowing back tears, fighting desperately to keep her emotions from pouring out.

Steve cupped her cheeks between his palms before he brushed his thumb softly beneath her eye, wiping away stray droplets.

She inhaled deeply and smiled shakily, “I love you so much,” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but he didn’t seem to mind, returning her warm gaze with one of equal affection.

She rested her forehead against his, inhaling his scent and savoring the closeness. The room filled with the aroma of musk and sex, which she found comforting despite the fact that it reminded her how filthy they’d become.

Steve ran his thumb across her lips tenderly before he captured her mouth again, kissing her deeply, tasting her sweetness on his tongue. She moaned softly into his embrace, tangling her fingers in his hair as she pulled him closer, letting him engulf her entirely.

His tongue explored her cavern thoroughly while his hands traveled down her torso, resting at her hips, feeling the outline of her curves beneath her dress.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers before whispering hoarsely, “Let’s clean up and get ready for bed.”

She nodded in agreement, and with his help, she managed to stand up on wobbly legs, stumbling towards the bathroom. He chuckled lightly and steadied her, holding her firmly by the waist as he guided her towards their bedroom. She collapsed upon the bed, exhausted, barely registering when he disappeared into the bathroom, returning several minutes later with a damp towel in his hand.

He crawled onto the bed, straddling her body as he wiped away the remnants of their passion.

She lay motionless, allowing him to clean her thoroughly before tossing the towel aside and pulling back the comforter. He scooped her up in his arms and placed her gently under the covers, snuggling beside her.

She gazed up at him adoringly, admiring how his blonde locks fell across his forehead, framing his face perfectly. He smiled sweetly at her before leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

As her eyelids grew heavy and she felt sleep creeping in, she whispered softly, “I love you.”

He smiled back at her, his blue eyes sparkling brightly. “I love you too, baby.” He whispered back, stroking her hair lovingly.

Y/N sighed in contentment as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of Steve’s arms, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, making her feel safe and loved. She smiled softly as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, her heart fluttering with happiness.

dividers: @.cafekitsune

#chris evans #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #smut with plot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mywriting #requests.

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dragonmuse · 10 months

Text

How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer

I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.

Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).

What is a dirtbag fic writer?

I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.

Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it.

How do I dirtbag?

That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean.

Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries.

Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other.

And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT. I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens. We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.

Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on?

But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!

COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T.

Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay. If you don’t, let us continue.

What does dirtbag writing look like?

It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird. It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business.

It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.)

It has mistakes.

Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there.

What if I don’t get good feedback?

Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish) is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.

You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film, (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness.

And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it? Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too!

BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck.

You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?” Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye.

If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole. Fic is no different

And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT.

Ok, but what if I don’t finish it?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it’s bad?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it doesn’t make sense?

That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms?

Then someone out there probably needs it! And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY*

*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”

You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary.

I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape.

That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.

You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there.

Go forth. Make.

You have some errors in this essay.

PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT. But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).

#dirtbagwriter

Go forth and MAKE

#writing #i'm not an expert #I just have been doing this a long time #and these are my feels #please feel free to throw away this strawberry

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sideblog-ver3 · 6 months

Text

spider webs (18+)

i need spider-man/peter parker. gosh like so badly. wish i involved more webbing concept, but if i wrote more it would end so horribly. first full smut fic, so go easy one me. also this is for adult peter parker so no marvel peter (kinda had ps5!peter in mind) don’t think too much, just enjoy the ride my friends (WC: 2.1K) dividers @firefly-graphics

reader with a vagina, oral (f), slight bondage (webbing)

vampires and boobs (my other fic)

peter parker and spider-man are two different people.

peter parker is a kind, scientifically smart, nerdy guy. he helps his aunt may at f.e.a.s.t. in his spare time, he works as a physics teacher for a high school in brooklyn, and he’s the best boyfriend you could have.

now spider-man is a part of peter, but they are two different people. he’s the friendly neighborhood spider-man, the amazing spider-man, the spectacular spider-man and any other adjective jameson could type up for the daily bugle. he was a wall-crawler webbing up the bad guys while still looking out for the little people. he had a sharp tongue with a snappy quip ready to fly, easy going personality for a friendly chat, and also could be deathly serious when the time calls for it.

he was clad in red and blue spandex that hugged all of him nicely. his biceps showing he could hold up a bus, his pecs and abs showing… he’s a stone wall, and his ass and other parts show that his partner is very lucky.

you get jealous sometimes when you see videos of spider-man swinging around, anyone could see what a hot body and sexy personality he has. where as when peter’s around he’s covered in two layers or loose clothing, anything that could cover up his physic. you wish he’d show his muscles off as peter parker, telling people he’s brains and brawn.

but you love him either way.

at least if anyone oogles at your boyfriend they don’t get the opportunity to see the godly body beneath the flannels and sweaters. oh! and another thing you love about spider-man, the webs. and the suit. mask and suit.

you’ve told peter before, “if you ever want to role play one night, i’ve always dreamed of spider-man webbing me up and using me however he chooses.” peter just gulped and took that information nervously.

that was two months ago. you weren’t expecting anything right away, it’s not like your sex lives were bad to begin with. peter’s got good stamina, able to go a couple rounds when you’re tired after the second go. it’s just that he’s been busier with patrol and work, you as well, just not piled high like peter always does. you just miss those long nights of kissing and touching, moaning into each other's mouths or skin. peter’s hands rising goosebumps in their trail, your fingers curled into his growing hair to give firm tugs as he pleasures you with his fingers or tongue.

so when peter climbed through your shared bedroom window at midnight you didn’t think he would want to do any fooling around. you’d just check for any harsh injuries, he’d shower and then you’d both fall asleep in each other’s hold.

but not tonight.

tonight, peter climbed through the window like usual, a few cuts to his suit but no broken skin or bones. he flipped the bottom of his mask up so it would sit on his nose bridge, tip of his nose to his chin were the only visible parts of skin.

you kept a hood gaze on his slow steps, seeing how he licked his lips. he stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. your legs shifted under the blankets and your eyes kept wandering.

“i heard from a little birdie that you’ve been in need of spider-man’s help. and what kind of hero would i be if i didn’t come to the rescue?”

he rounded the corner of the bed, his right hand gliding just beside the outline of your legs. “what seems to be the problem, miss?”

you took a swallow, knowing your fantasy was gonna come true. “i- i can’t make myself cum. my fingers aren’t enough.” giving your best doe eyes, knowing they always work on peter.

he hummed, “well, i don’t mean to brag, but i’ve been told i know the best solution to that problem. got a technique named after me.”

that made you break character for a second, “oh yeah?” a slight giggle in your voice. “what’s this technique called?”

his pink lips quirked to a smirk, “spider tingle. mostly involves tongue.” your breathing picked up.

“could- could you do that? or- or however you want, can take me in any position. i just want to cum.”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you. now i’m gonna need you to put your wrist against the headboard.” your heart picked up.

slowly you pushed your arms up and then, “let’s take off this shirt first. gonna be difficult in a minute.”

spider-man held the hem of your sleep shirt and waited for a nod from you before pulling it over your head and off your body. waist up completely exposed for him. “you’re a gorgeous girl.” his gloves hands roaming over your doughy skin, a shaky gasp slips free.

he pushed your arms into a comfortable position before spraying a layer of web fluid to glue your wrist flat. “if you get uncomfortable just tell me and i’ll rip them off.” and you could only nod with an open mouth.

“don’t be afraid to be vocal. it encourages me.”

he pressed his lips into a kiss upon your left cheek then your right. he pulled back and you could see his act breaking for a second, “this okay? feel safe?”

you nodded but he insisted, “words, pretty. i need the words.” “yes. i’m safe.” he smiled happily, “good.” and he leaned in so he finally gave you a proper kiss.

it was sweet and slow, his top lip covering yours. the tip of his nose bumping into your cheek, a gloved hand caressing the empty side, his thumb swiping under your eye. you followed his leaving lips, chasing for more, struggling against your restraints. a quiet groan and whimper at not being able to reach for your boyfriend.

a teasing chuckle from his slick lips, his fingers held your jaw, “be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”

and your legs separated without any resistance, you could feel the wetness building on your panties. spider-man pressed sloppy, wet kisses from your collarbone to each breast before going down the valley. his hands were at your sides, sliding down your figure as his lips were walking the trail down south. your chest pushed forward and you moaned at the tingles he was causing, you kept forgetting you didn’t have access to your hands and it made you a bit angry.

“you're such a good girl for spider-man. do i get to keep you after this?” pressing a lingering kiss just above the band of your red and blue panties. a pair you bought so you could fluster peter, and they work magnificently.

you moaned, “i’m all yours, spider-man. i’ll be your little toy if you want.”

he kissed over the fabric and hummed, “i’m one lucky hero.” his slender fingers curled into the elastic band and started tugging down. you pushed your hips up to help and he slid the fabric slowly down your thighs, still leaving parted kisses on your body.

the underwear was off your body and thrown to the floor, completely bare for the clothed web-slinger. you didn’t realize how vulnerable it was be in this light, your legs shutting themselves. but spider-man gripped your knees and easily kept them from closing off for him.

“nothing to worry about, pretty girl. i’m gonna take real good care of you.”

he moved to lay on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and his head was now in front of your slick center. he gripped your outer thighs as he pressed some more quick kisses on your high inner thigh, just missing the place you desperately needed him.

“spidey, please. i- i- i need your mouth. please.” pleading for any relief from being pent up.

he kisses your mound, “only cause you said please,” and then his lips were wrapped on your pussy.

you sighed dreamily at the familiar caress, head thrown into the headboard with your chest arching into the air. breast bouncing with each quick breath followed by a deep inhale.

the low moans from peter’s mouth vibrate from your stomach to your heart. the nylon of his gloves, your version of silk on heated skin. the heels of your feet moving to dig into his shoulder blades, unconsciously trying to push him closer without your hands.

your lids are heavy with euphoria, trying to keep them open as you watch spider-man licking into you, bobbing his head and grinding his hips into the bedding.

“aww, poor- poor baby. looking a bit- a bit needy down there.” trying for a teasing tone, having to push through moans.

spider-man pressed a firm kiss to your clit making you gasp, “who wouldn’t be needy around a beautiful lady? especially one as delicious as you.” before dipping back to work.

this man knows how to get your heart racing with words alone.

you knew peter was skilled with his tongue, fast quips rolling into villains faces. oh, also easily making you cum and become a stimulated mess before him, but the spider-man suit is making him even better. your eyes are rolling to the ceiling or crossing in the middle to make your vision blur, mouth open in a silent gasp or biting into your bottom lip to subdue the louder moans so you don’t get a noise complaint. like last time.

you looked down again to see him lapping at your wetness, a lake in his scorching desert. his palms slid up your thighs to squeeze at your hips before resting them on your stomach. keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, subduing your squirming.

his tongue tickled your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat. you tried tugging against the webbing, you wanted it off so you could press spider-man closer, but you didn’t want him to stop for even a second.

“so- so close, ba- baby. so- uh! uh!” tingling as his tongue enters your hole. fucking in and out while his nose bumps into your clit, giving that extra stimulation. “yes, yes! keep- keep going.”

you squeezed tight around the muscle, his exhale ghosting over his spit and your slick mixing. how you wished you could rip your hands free, yank his mask off so you could sink your nails into peter’s messy curls and tug him.

spider-man started gaining speed, going faster, making that knot in your lower stomach building tighter and tighter. so close to snapping free from tension.

“please, spidey. peter, i’m- i’m almost there, baby.”

that only spurred him to kick into high gear, tongue flattening for every inch of you. lips kissing you intimately, sucking you sweet.

“pete- pete, i’m- i’m gonna…” trailing off as the knot tightens, rendering you speechless.

peter didn’t need to ask what you were gonna do, he just gave you a silent permission to cum as he continued his hero work.

a loud noise of ecstasy was ripped from you, thighs shutting around peter’s head as he worked you through it all. your chest was panting with a slight sweat to your breast.

“ah! ah! pete, too- too much.” foot tapping on his shoulder as your physical signal for him to lighten up. three more kitten licks, two kisses and a playful bite at your thighs that made you screech in delight.

peter finally tugged his bug-eyed mask off, letting you appreciate your pretty boyfriend with his lips pink all covered in shine. he crawled up your body, trailing over his phantom kisses from earlier.

he nipped at a spot on your neck at causes you to sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering shut and legs shuffling for something. “my hero.” sighing out the two words just as he licked over a spot where there is sure to be a purple hickey tomorrow morning.

his dazzling smile came into view, “all in a days work, sweetheart.” giving you a kiss while his hands ran over your arms and pulled away the loosening web fluid.

his lips moved from your mouth to your wrist, princess kissing them at the slight redness you gained at the friction. “doing okay?” he asked, peering at you through long brown lashes.

you nod, “yeah. doing great. now,” you pushed yourself into peter, wrapping your arms around his neck. shuffling your legs over his to straddle his thighs, you pushed his head into your neck so you could whisper into his ear, “how’d you like a reward? for helping me out, spidey.” pulling at his earlobe with your teeth.

peter shuttered and sighed, “i’d like nothing more.”

#peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm peter parker #ps5 peter parker

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

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Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.

Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.

There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.

I enjoy the actual process of writing.

I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.

I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.

To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.

I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.

vimeo

youtube

The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.

But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.

No, writing for attention isn't worth it.

The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.

But that's not actually why most people write.

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 11 months

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size wife!reader

― era: season 11

― summary: you're a big fan of the commonwealth's military uniform on your husband but he isn't so sure.

― warnings: unprotected sex, intimate sex, daryl's insecure about how he looks but it's okay, oral sex (r. receiving), missionary, teasing, and praising kink.

― wc: 1293

⋆ a/n: well, hello everyone, and happy pride month!! i'm back (not officially), and of course i'm posting daryl because am i really me if i didn't? also, i do admit i babygirlified daryl in this fic, like- i couldn't help myself, but anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think!

masterlist | AO3

“I don’t understand why you do that.” You said from your shared bed.

“Do what?” Daryl asked you as he stood in front of the full-length mirror. He was essentially checking him out, but with a lot more apprehension for himself than the usual.

“Nit-pick every part about you until there’s nothing left.”

“’Cause I look stupid.” You knew he meant to play it off as a scoff, maybe even a dig at the bulky plastic uniform, but you know that he could be placed in a potato sack and still be convinced that he’s the reason why the sack doesn’t look good.

With a sigh, you got up from the bed, coming to stand behind him.

“Well,” You breathed out as you set your hands on his shoulders. “You want to know what I think?” You asked him softly. He just grunted, giving you a half-hearted shrug, only one of his shoulders moving up as he cast his gaze to the floor. You took that grunt as a means to continue, your hands sliding down to his biceps and giving and them a firm squeeze - the firmest squeeze that you could seeing as though the armor got in your way.

“I think that you look sexy.” Your touch then traveled down to his forearms, resting there for a moment before reaching around his waist, resting your hands on his chest plate. “And strong.” You continued. Your arms snaked back behind him, placing themselves on his pert ass, which was is outlined by the posterior coverup. “But also, it makes your ass look good.” You finished with a smile when you heard his chuckle.

You gripped his hips and softly turned him around, cupping the scruff of his cheeks. His eyes closed at the gentle show of affection.

“You look handsome all the time, okay? So, I don’t want you worrying about some stupid uniform; and besides, I should be worried about other women coming after you once they see you in this.” He let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a snort, “Ya ain’t gotta worry about that.” He reassured you. “I know.” You said with a smile.

Your eyes fell on his lips before you leaned up to capture them softly.

He reciprocated your affections, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you as close to his body as he could despite the uniform that prevented him from feeling your ample, plush form against his.

“Need’ta get this stupid shit off me.” He grumbled against your mouth. You giggled, a smile spreading on your face as you both frantically worked, and managed, to get his top and pants off; now, all he was left in was his black long-sleeved shirt and his underwear.

“Well, don’t you look cute.” You teased. “Ain’t cute.” He growled, pulling you towards him so he could feel you now. “Sure, you aren’t.” You joked sarcastically before intertwining your fingers into his hair and pressing your lips together. He grunted into your mouth at the added pressure to his scalp, but he didn’t complain, slowly walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed.

He gently set you down, motioning you to move up on the bed so that your head was now propped up on the pillows.

He settled himself between your thighs, working your underwear down your legs.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, Dar.” You sighed as you felt his breathing against your damp labia. “I know, but this is what I wanna do.” He said, throwing your thick legs over his as equally thick shoulders. “Then I suppose I shouldn’t stop you.” You gasped out as he ran his tongue through your folds, the muscle caressing your clit.

He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue dipping in and out of your hole before trailing back up to suck your clit into his mouth, lightly nibbling on it. Your legs twitched around his head, your back arching and your nails scratching at his scalp. He groaned loudly, the vibration of his timbre voice sending an almost electric like current to shoot up your spine; your breathing turning labored as he did. His fervent licks coaxed you closer to your orgasm, your thighs pressing against his ears like warmed earmuffs.

You tasted divine and he just couldn’t stop. With the stress of being recruited and trained, plus having to deal with assholes - mostly Sebastian - he needed this, needed to be able to get lost for just a few moments, and he was grateful that you were his vice, a sea to get lost in.

“Daryl! ‘m gonna- ‘m gonna cum, please.” You cried out. Though your voice was muffled, he could feel it in the way you squeezed around him. As you neared your high, he focused solely on your clit, leisurely flicking and sucking until you shook, your whine that almost sounded like a squeal broke the air.

He pulled away from you once your legs grew weak, your limbs falling open so he could wiggle his way up your chest to deliver you a burning kiss. You could taste yourself on him as you desperately tried to keep up with the rigorous pace that his mouth moved in.

“You fine to keep goin’?” He mumbled. You nodded, laying your head back in bliss so he could deliver heated nibbles and bites to the column of your throat. “Yeah.” You swallowed.

He looked into your eyes one more time before taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, the other reached down to align himself to your entrance before allowing himself to push into you.

You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, shutting your eyes and squeezing Daryl’s hand as you got used to him. It wasn’t long before he picked up his pace, his thrusts slow and deep. You could feel him, feel all of him as he took large inhales of air, selfishly breathing you in as he groaned.

“Ya feel so good.” He grunted as he pulled out just to slam his hips back into you. Your head swam at the praise, a meek whimper pushing past your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in their wake. Daryl always enjoyed the extra added pain, his body stuttering at the scratches.

“Need’ta feel ya squeeze me.” He heaved. He pressed his body further onto yours, as if he was trying to mold you two together. You fed into his demand, contracting around him that sent his body jolting upward. “God damn girl.” He cursed.

“Faster, D. I need it.” You whined, arching your back to the best of your abilities. “I got you.” He assured you, picking up his pace, the pleasure that shot up your spine scrambling your brain.

His cock constantly brushed up against that spongy spot hidden deep within you.

With the way his hips were stuttering, you could tell he was close.

“Cum in me.” You gasped. Normally, Daryl would choose to take the cautious route, but tonight, your loving words and reassurance had gotten him so pent up that he couldn’t help but agree, marking you as his as he let go inside of you with a deep, earth-shattering combination between a moan and a groan.

You worked him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, running your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you as he shook in your arms.

“You okay?” You asked with a shit-eating grin. He huffed a chuckle. “Yeah, ‘m alright.” He said from the crook of your neck. “Fuckin’ exhausted though.” He grunted as he rolled off of you.

“Oh, how I love my old man.” You teased, cuddling up to his side.

“Shuddup.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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queerfandomtrifecta · 6 months

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So a lot is bothering me about the narrative structure of season two. If I didn’t have my own novel to work on and didn’t have several more edits commissioned, I’d write a fix-it fic for all of season two to fix the narrative stuff and to really delve into character arcs that felt off. Maybe I will anyway. Idk. If someone who actually has time wants to take any or all of this and write a fic, go for it. Can’t wait to read it. Anyway, this is a very rough outline that’s subject to change if I do write the fic, but from a developmental editing perspective, here’s my two cents nobody asked for on season 2:

Thematic elements: Atonement and coping with trauma, the crew leaving (especially in regards to Stede’s emotional wound where he’s worried about people being better off without him) and identity (especially in regards to Ed/Stede/Izzy). These are present in the show as-is, but they don’t play out well just yet. I’m focusing on these to make things cohesive.

Episodes 1-3: mostly perfect. Loved these and the pacing felt correct for the most part. I would keep the tone from these episodes through the season. Ricky would be introduced here. Zheng is fantastic and all of her stuff stays here.

What I’d change: Ned Low would be the primary antagonist for this season. Ricky would be set up through this season to be the primary antagonist next season. Ned Low’s record is Ed’s original suicide by proxy plan, and that needs to be introduced here. There needs to be a scene showing how Ned tortures people in these episodes. Izzy needs to bring it up as a concern to Ed. Ed doesn’t care about the crew’s safety, obviously, someone (Izzy) needs to mention Ned’s record and possible repercussions here. I’d also NOT play Lucius’s trauma reveal with Stede like a comedy beat. (Like seriously, I HATE that the show played SA as a comedy beat.) Black Pete would be shown crying of Lucius so it’s not just told randomly after the fact. Olu would be shown missing Jim.

Episode 4: The unicorn thing with Izzy was beautiful and I’d keep that. Stede and Ed going to Mary and Anne’s is fine. Buttons can APPEAR to turn into a seagull.

What I’d change: The Kraken Crew and Lucius need to stay paranoid longer. They need to tally things up and realize that Low’s record has been broken (I think Ed was too checked out from reality/high on rhino horn to even realize he’d broken it; Izzy has bigger things going on and likely also lost track) but that record being broken was NEVER shown in the original, just told after the fact. In order to NOT switch to a speculative genre randomly for a convenient metaphor, Buttons appears to turn into a seagull but he doesn’t literally. Revealed to the audience but not to Ed/Stede (more on this later). Stede doesn’t put it to a vote that Ed can come back. He’s the captain and decides that that’s how it’s gonna be. The crew is also gonna look to former first-mate Frenchie (whose trauma is in a box) for direction when Izzy is struggling. It’s Frenchie’s idea about the leg. Izzy is still struggling a little more after his new leg, and I think he should be shown happy at the end but with a bottle of something not far from him (but more in that later).

Episode 5: Ed’s influencer non-apology clearly written by Stede works. Ed and Stede need time apart. The cursed suit can stay for the levity of it. Ed and Fang can go fishing. The moonlight kiss scene works for the most part.

What I’d change: Izzy can be sassy with Lucius, and a bit of a mentor to Stede, but he’s going to be drinking in this episode. Not plastered drunk like ep 4, but it’s gonna clearly be a struggle and everyone is just Not Talking About It. Lucius might start to parallel that a bit and I’d like to see more interaction with them there. I’d also like to see the Kraken Crew (all the crew really) treating Izzy as their captain. Stede says he doesn’t feel like the captain and there should be a reason for that. If he forced them to let Ed back on the boat in ep 4, that can be addressed here. Izzy is following Stede so he can eventually persuade everyone they have to as well, though Izzy’s earned more trust than anyone at this point. I’d delve into him doing for Stede what he did for Ed pre-season one (“massaged the crew” when Ed’s moods seemed off to keep things running (I can’t remember the exact quote past that, but that’s essentially the idea). The Kraken Crew needs to be wary of Ed longer. They do not believe Buttons is a seagull. They all think Ed killed him and Stede says he didn’t see Buttons turn into a seagull, but he takes Ed’s side and doesn’t think Ed killed him. That starts a rift and an “us or Ed” thing that’ll play out later. Ed can try to interact with the crew and get the cold shoulder. He’s done nothing to restore his reputation. As far as the cursed suit goes, I would have them receive some sort of warning from Ned Low when they go to pawn the suit off on the other ship. Stede or/or Izzy would keep it quiet from the crew, who are only just now starting to follow Stede as the captain. Ricky needs to be shown here wanting to end piracy, and interacting with Zheng. After the moonlight kiss, I’d have them holding hands as they walk off. I think maybe Lucius would want to leave the ship here. The Swede and Buttons are gone already, and it makes sense for Lucius to want to leave but Black Pete to want to stay. They’ll both still be on board here though.

Episode 6: Calypso’s Birthday will be the plot for 7/8.

What I’d change: let me preface this by saying I haven’t worked Zheng’s plot fixes out fully. But. If we’re moving this to the next two episodes, something has to happen here. I’d keep the bit with the guilt room and with Ed giving away treasure to the urchins saying don’t be pirates, but have him say more in front of Stede about how piracy is bad for specific reasons that Stede just doesn’t clock as Ed wanting to stop. I think the plot will be along the lines of Stede engaging in more piracy. Ed will quietly be struggling with the fact that Stede is becoming a more and more proficient pirate in his own way, Ed himself not wanting to pirate anymore, and his tentative new relationship with the captain of a ship he is definitely not wanted on by anyone other than Stede. Zheng needs to interact with Ricky here about him wanting to end piracy. Izzy is a good first mate here but he’s still drinking. Lucius may start to parallel that here. Former first mate Frenchie picks up the slack and falls into a leadership role when Izzy is struggling too much, and this is eventually gonna cause him to have to deal with his trauma that’s bottled up, when he has to talk to Izzy about clearly not handling his own. Eventually, things will come to a head with the crew not wanting Ed on board. It becomes an “us vs him” thing with the crew threatening to leave if Es doesn’t. Stede will try to smooth things over but Ed will interrupt and say don’t bother, he’s leaving. He doesn’t know who he is but at least fisherman would be better than pirate. Episode ends with Stede heartbroken and Ed going off to fish in something that isn’t his leathers, so he wouldn’t be recognizable from a distance. Low pinpoints Stede’s ship but doesn’t see Ed on it, and plans to bait him out by boarding and torturing the crew.

Episodes 7-8: Nope. I’d keep almost none of this.

What I’d change: This part is also still rough and I need to flesh it out a bit more, BUT: Calypso’s birthday would be episode 7. The crew would wanna party but also wanna cheer up their sulking captain. They’re glad Ed is gone. Izzy is a good first mate here but still drinking. He encourages the party to Stede who agrees. They’re spending Ed’s treasure that he’s left, turning the poison into positivity by getting rid of the bad memories the Kraken Crew has of obtaining it. Stede and Izzy bond a lot here. Ned Low does interrupt the party (I think maybe he’s also “working” with Ricky but not really, he has his own agenda) planning to bait Ed back. The scene in Stede’s quarters would be Izzy and Stede, not Ed and Stede. Once again the crew are suffering for Ed’s actions, and THAT is how Ed can atone for it. He can save them, probably with the help of Zheng who he’ll have met when he goes off to be a fisherman. So there’s some camaraderie going there. Also, with help from Lucius and Black Pete, who will have to trust him in order to save the crew/themselves. Stede will be the one to kill Ned Low, and he and Ed will still impulsively sleep together as a coping mechanism at the end of episode 8. Izzy is still alive and well (though still drinking a lot; and I think this could be a key to Frenchie having to confront trauma instead of locking it in the box), and things aren’t smoothed out with Ed and Izzy yet, that’s for next season, Ed has ACTUALLY done something to earn the crew’s trust back, and it appears to be a happy enough ending for Ed and Stede. Also, IF Ed says “I love you”, Stede is GONNA say “I love you too” because WTAF was that in the show?! But I’d end the season with La Vie en Rose and fireworks, Izzy happy and celebrating with the crew, a happy moment for Ed/Stede, the antagonist defeated, and Ed actually having atoned for his previous actions.

All of this is rough, but it’s my original thoughts. If anyone wants to use the base of this to write a fix-it fic, go for it. I may do it myself if I can find the time between work writing responsibilities.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd fix-it #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd season 2 spoilers #izzy hands #Ed teach #stede bonnet #Lucius spriggs #the crew of the revenge #ofmd fanfic #someone please fix this I don’t really have the time but this would work so much better #ouizzy #gentlebeard #zheng yi sao #david jenkins

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bearhugsandshrugs · 5 months

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Folie á Deux: Bonus Chapter

Read the whole fic on AO3 Read just the new chapter on AO3 this fic was the first pure smut piece that I wrote and it was so well received that it motivated me for months. I recently had inspiration to write more chapters for it so here it goes. you can read this one without the previous ones

fem!Tav x Raphael x Haarlep and all combinations of them

“Ah! My favorite client.” Raphael was lounging on a couch in his boudoir, watching Haarlep pound into a man relentlessly on the bed, when Tav walked in.

She tried to keep a neutral face, but her eyes dragged over again and again towards the incubus and his current partner. Victim.

“Quite the show, isn’t it?”, the devil asked her, chuckling, not taking his eyes off the bed. “But I’m afraid you can’t join. Contractual obligations.”

Shaking her head, she walked over to where Raphael was sitting. Neither Haarlep nor his partner gave any indication that they paid attention to them or even heard them.

“Every time you say I’m your client you sound like a whore”, Tav teased sweetly, and Raphael laughed loudly and fully. She’d come to enjoy the sound of his laughter nearly as much as her time at the House of Hope, even though it had been a while since her last visit.

“If you want to be naughty today, I have just the treatment for that”, the devil said slowly, tone low and mellow, but the threat shone through nevertheless. He tore his gaze away from the bed and smirked at her. “Are you? Naughty, pet?”

Tav swallowed. It felt like a trap, but then again, they’d established a dynamic that was on eye level as much as it could be, given the circumstances. “Yes”, she tried holding her head a little higher. “I am.”

Over on the bed the man came with a loud moan, and Haarlep pulled out of him quickly, sighing exasperatedly. “Marvelous”, Raphael clasped his hands together, addressing his house guest, “it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

The man sobbed, it was unclear why, but Haarlep found it terribly amusing. “Take him back, master, please?” He looked at the devil, and a small smile played around his lips as he noticed Tav already waiting on the couch.

“Of course”, Raphael replied and snapped his fingers, and the stranger disappeared – leaving only a sweaty outline on the bed behind. Grimacing, he snapped his fingers again and a servant appeared, hastily fixing the bed while Raphael looked on with a frown.

Haarlep, meanwhile, walked into the restoration fountain, still erect, washing himself clean. “It’s good to see you again, darling”, he greeted Tav sweetly, pulling back his foreskin as he made eye contact with her. “You should join me in the bath.”

“Yes”, Raphael agreed absentmindedly, still watching the servant clean; grunting in disapproval when she skipped a particular spot only he saw as messy. “Join him.”

Tav took off her clothes, leaving them neatly folded on the couch, then dipped into the fountain. The water was pleasantly warm, and she immediately felt the magic soothe her skin, relaxing the tension in her muscles, and softening her features. Sinking down, she let the water envelop her up to her throat, and Haarlep stood nearby, watching her intently.

“Come here”, he purred, beckoning Tav towards him. She stood back up to join him – in truth, she longed to touch his body, run her hands over his chest and down between his legs, feel the ridges of his body and wrap her mouth around as many of his parts as she could. Maybe he could tell, because the way he smirked when she stood close was full of recognition. Behind her, she heard the servant leave, then Raphael shuffle, but she knew better than to turn around unless asked to. Her attention was demanded in front of her.

“I feel terribly tired after this exertion”, Haarlep sighed, wetting his lips before he continued, “Why don’t you make yourself useful?”

He handed her a sponge and smirked expectantly. There would be no complaint from her. Leisurely and with care Tav started brushing over the incubus’ body, taking in every piece of him as she slid her hands, along with the sponge, over his entire body; making sure to cradle his balls and stroke his cock with languid motions. Haarlep brought his hands up to her face, cupping her cheek, then dragging one, sharp claw all the way down between her breasts as she tightened her grip around him.

“Not forgetting the wings, are we?”, he interrupted her, teasing, grinning, as he ran his hands over her body.

Oh. Tav swallowed, tearing herself away from him to step to the side. His wings were wide and large, and she had to move and stretch to reach them. She carefully wiped at the broad, extended wings that looked almost too tender to touch. Feeling them in her hands, however, revealed more strength in them than expected: They felt like smooth leather, and Haarlep groaned when she reached the tips, clearly sensitive.

She wondered how they’d feel against her skin, inside her mouth. From the corner of her eye she saw Haarlep watch her, mouth twitching upwards, amused. He’d never asked her to touch them before. He’d never even let her near them before.

Meeting his gaze she brought her mouth towards one of the clawing tips, lips wrapping carefully around the end. The incubus sighed with delight, and from behind her she heard someone else draw in a sharp breath: Raphael.

The wing tasted like copper and sugar, an alluring taste that made her want to explore them more. But she wasn’t granted her desire: Haarlep moved them away from her, straightening up so that the wings rose higher, and Tav’s mouth was left with nothing.

“Eager as always”, Raphael commented from the sidelines.Then, addressing Haarlep, he added: “If she enjoys the wings so much, maybe you should let her have them.”

“What a wonderful idea”, the incubus giggled. Taking Tav’s hand he pulled her out of the fountain, taking the few steps with stride.

The air brushed coolly against her body, and she was looking for a towel to dry herself when she felt it: Haarlep, pulling her tightly against his body. He brought his hands up to her tits and squeezed, his entire palms cupping them, fingers hungrily pressing into the flesh. His face loomed above her, and he raised an eyebrow teasingly when he looked down on her.

“Having a thing for the devil’s form, do we?”, he giggled, pinching her nipples so hard Tav cried out, before his voice hardened. “Answer me.” “Y-yes”, she replied, excitement settling in her chest.

Haarlep pulled her into him, his hands settling on her neck as his right wing whirled completely around her upper body, and the other wrapped around her legs. They enveloped her entire body tightly, pressing against every inch of her skin. They were warm, and strong, and far more flexible than she’d thought. More importantly, they held her in place: There was no chance she could move. Her legs and arms were locked within them, so tightly that it felt almost claustrophobic, every part of her paralyzed. Movements rippled through the wings like waves, massaging her breasts, her ass, her thighs. It felt maddening.

Heat pooled down between her legs as Haarlep’s wings covered her body. He watched her, lips parted with curiosity. And then… Something slid against the inside of her thigh, slowly creeping upwards.

“Let’s see how you take this”, Haarlep giggled, bringing his mouth to hers for a greedy kiss as his tail dipped into her entrance. It pushed in effortlessly, her folds already wet, and the incubus chuckled with a low voice as his tail moved deeper and deeper inside her body. Tav drew a sharp breath in against his lips, overwhelmed by all the sensations: The wings still rubbing against her breasts and her ass, his tail twirling and curling inside her cunt, his greedy tongue playing with her mouth…

Through the wings she could feel his erection press against her core, and for a moment she imagined he was fucking her as his tail pumped in and out. Tav realized it was broader than it looked. It had easily the girth of two fingers, making her feel like she was getting fingered by a bendy, leathery, ….. Something.

Her breathing picked up as the incubus continued his assault with his tail, continuously switching between kissing her and lapping broad licks over her entire face before biting at her neck. His hands were in her hair, around her throat, and every time she moaned he’d squeeze a little tighter. It was getting hard for Tav to breathe: Between the wings pressing down onto her body and his fingers tightening around her airways, she was getting lightheaded. If he wouldn’t stop, she’d surely lose consciousness–

“Stop”, she whimpered, even though her cunt was screaming at her to let him go on, have his way with her until she came. “Please.” Haarlep paused, but Raphael’s voice came smoothly from behind them: “Go on.”

Tav wanted to protest, wanted to say something, but Haarlep brought one of his hands up from her throat to her face, shoving three of his fingers inside her mouth. Down between her legs his tail started moving again, pushing in and out of her in sync with his fingers between her lips, rolling and teasing at every sensitive spot it could find.

Her vision started to blur as the incubus fucked her closer and closer to the edge, his wings pressing against her as tightly as before. Tav moaned helplessly around his fingers, eyes wide, her lungs gasping for air between it all. Just before she blacked out, Haarlep pulled the tail out of her, his tip instead rubbing circles around her clit. She came instantly, her body convulsing and shuddering involuntarily in place, his wings rippling pressure onto her skin, teasing out the last bits of her high.

When he released her, she stumbled backwards, gasping for air and recovery; but she was caught by a strong set of arms and another ridged body: Raphael’s.

He had changed into his cambion form, and he was tall, so tall, the top of her head meeting the center of his chest.

“If you want to act like a naughty little whore, we’ll treat you like one”, he whispered into her hair as she groaned at his touch. “Such a pity to see you’re still pretending you aren’t one.” “Go fuck yourself”, she grunted, trying to catch her breath. “Oh pet, I am, often enough. But that’s not what you’re here for, is it?”

Opposite of her, Haarlep giggled. “Maybe she should fuck herself”, he offered, and Raphael sighed behind her. “Hmmm, excellent idea”, he replied, running his hands over her stomach up to her breasts. Tav wanted to push him off, slap him and then his stupid incubus, but if she was being honest, the way Haarlep had used her had been hotter than it had any right to be. She longed to be touched, again and more, until she forgot her own name.

Haarlep changed into a new form as a small shiver ran down Tav’s spine. She didn’t recognize who he turned into at first, but then she looked at a familiar facial structure, spotting the same freckles, the same dimples, the same little scars, only rougher, sharper, more angular. The incubus had turned into her – or, a version of her, one that was masculine. And had a penis.

Her gaze immediately dipped down between the incubus’ legs, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Haarlep laughed, bringing his hand to his cock, and when he started stroking himself, Tav felt a flash of lightning spark in her core. It felt strange, but great; a phantom sensation that was so different yet so similar to her touching herself.

Above her, Raphael chuckled and started playing with her tits, pulling at her nipples, scratching over her skin with his claws, squeezing her flesh again and again until she started to whimper. His erection pressed against her lower back, and when she tried to reach backwards, wanting to touch him, he slapped her breasts so hard she yelped.

“Squeaky little mouse”, he sighed with amusement, then pushed her away from him towards Haarlep, who caught her, laughing. “Let’s see if you last longer than the master”, the incubus said with a sweet smile, the mockery barely hidden underneath. His voice was deep, the bass vibrating in her core – already, he turned her on, simply by existing as her male mirror.

She knew this would be intense.

“Can’t we take a break?”, Tav asked without thinking, still trying to stabilize her breathing after what had happened moments before. “Breaks are for good little sluts”, Haarlep frowned, adding strictly: “But you’re a naughty whore. ”

She swallowed. While she could leave at any time, she… didn’t want to. Not when the thought of feeling Haarlep inside her made her heart flutter. Not when she hadn’t even touched Raphael.

Well then.

Lying down on the bed wasn’t bad, actually. It was a short moment of rest, relaxing and comfortable, the fresh sheets smelling like soap and cherries. Haarlep grinned as he joined her, pulling her hips towards him, then spreading her legs so she was open wide.

“Let’s see”, he sighed, lining himself up against her. The tip of his cock dragged through her wetness, and Tav immediately groaned. It was absurd to feel this on both ends, an onslaught of sensation already.

From the corner of her eye she saw Raphael lazily lean back on a couch, watching them, slowly stroking his cambion cock.

Haarlep pushed her thighs down as he entered her, and Tav sobbed out a moan from overwhelm. She felt herself: hot and wet and tight; and she felt the incubus’ version of her, hard and thick and rubbing against her walls. Wondering how it would feel if she touched his chest, she reached out for him, pulling him down to her. Haarlep was happy to comply: He ran his hands over her body while he kissed her, and Tav whimpered under his touch. When his lips met hers she felt like she was kissing someone else, and that someone else was kissing another stranger, and that stranger also kissed her – every sensation bouncing off of each other, just like the cock inside her cunt, stretching her, pushing into her, while she clenched around him again and again, trying out what new feelings she could draw out of him. Out of herself.

It was too much for her to last long, but Haarlep wouldn’t grant her release. Laughing, he paused, straightening up again.

“Now that you’ve had a taste, get to work”, he demanded, and Tav looked at him in confusion in response. “What?” “Fuck yourself. On me.” He grinned, pulling her legs up so she could wrap them around his waist. That’s when she understood: He wanted her to get herself off on him while he sat there, buried inside her, watching.

Groaning in frustration and need, Tav started grinding against him, immediately noticing how good it still felt, but how odd it was with this change of pace, one part of her seemingly in stasis.

She used her arms to steady herself and prop herself up, trying to find a better angle, or maybe rub her clit, when she suddenly saw Raphael climb onto the bed, still in devil form. He was almost comically large, easily over a head taller than Haarlep in her male version, and his wings spanned nearly across the room when he opened them, eyes piercing her with interest.

The tip of his cambion cock pressed into her back – no, it was Haarlep’s back – and his hands wrapped around her – no, his – throat, steering Haarlep’s face backwards to meet him. And then: He kissed him. Her. Him.

She felt Raphael’s lips on her, but of course he wasn’t making out with her, but with his incubus. They kissed lazily, slowly, vulgarly: tongues lapping at each other, over their mouths and teeth, lips sucked in then released, teeth biting down again and again until Tav tasted copper. The two men looked so hot, so into it, that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from them while she tried to pick up the pace, rolling her hips into the incubus with desperation. Worse: they completely ignored her. Raphael did not shoot her a glance once, while Haarlep sat still, upper body turned towards the devil. Neither of them cared that she was there. Neither of them bothered with her.

And that was what sent her over the edge. After only a few moments, which she felt were entirely too short, she came. Crying out half from release, half from shame from her blatant neediness, Tav gasped for air as she rubbed her core against Haarlep, again and again, trying to drag out her high a little bit longer.

No use.

As soon as the walls inside her stopped clenching around his cock, Haarlep pulled out of her, laughing at her.

“Pathetic”, he hissed, and from behind him, Raphael nodded. “So needy. So submissive . Have you forgotten everything we taught you?”

Tav shook her head, whimpering out a “N-no” in response. “That’s not very convincing”, giggled the incubus.

“True”, Raphael agreed. “Seems like more lessons are in order.”

#bg3 raphael #haarlep #raphael x haarlep #haarlep x tav #raphael x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 6 months

Note

Hi Whimsy🖤

I'm new here and this is my first ask so I'm sorry if I haven't done this right. If you're comfortable with it and are able to can I get a Prince Nuada x chubby f!reader enemies to lovers anything (with nsfw if you're fine with that).

You have full reign over the direction and themes of this, anything is appreciated!

Thank you for your time🌻

Hello! Now this is something that actually deserves a full multi-part fic, so I thought of coming up with a detailed outline for the moment. I hope you like it!

“A prince’s regard”

Pairing: Prince Nuada x chubby F! reader (Human | Second person POV)

Themes: Enemies to lovers | Soft | NSFW

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Summary: As part of a greater plan to encourage peace and understanding between humans and elves, a lottery is held for elves and humans to live amongst each other. You’re one of them, and the elf you are paired off with during the lotter is none other than Nuada himself.

A/n: If anyone wants to make use of these I say go for it, but please tag me if you do.

Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume

🍃As part of a peace treaty with mortals, King Balor proposed an exchange of culture and knowledge between the two former warring races. Selected humans would live amongst the elves as attendants, handmaidens, stewards, and students, and elves would do the same with humans.

🍃A lottery is organized and monitored by the BPRD to stop parties with vested interests from meddling and upsetting the delicate balance of such a hard-won peace. Offices spread all over the world turn into lottery centers, and any elf or mortal wishing to add their name to the list is encouraged to do so.

🍃The numbers may not have been record-breaking, but enough elves and humans registered all the same. Your name was one of them. You did it on a dare, and with your friends, thinking nothing would ever come out of it.

🍃When the announcements start, you join the others in front of the TV, listening to names being called out, along with the names of families and individuals they would be paired with. Your name was not called on the first day. It was not called on the second or third day either. It was disappointing, to be sure, but you made peace with it. The days passed, with more and more names being announced. Then, after a fortnight had passed, you listened, dumbfounded, while your own name was announced to the world in crisp words. You were even more astounded when you found that you were being paired off with none other than the crown prince of Bethmoora himself.

🍃Your friends take you shopping as you would be moving into a series of abandoned railway tunnels he had converted into a luxurious palace. No one has seen the inside of it except for his father and sister, and the handful of attendants that served him.

🍃You’re nervous. Not just because you would be living with elven royalty, but also because Nuada is well known for hating humans.

🍃The prince was cold and aloof when you walked in through thick wooden doors full of strange symbols carved into them. “For protection,” Princess Nuala said, “against any evil that tries to make its way inside.”

🍃She was exceedingly warm where her twin is not, asking dozens of questions about your life, your friends, your family, everything. Nuala helped you settle into your new rooms and then showed you around the vast network of tunnels and chambers her brother called home. Everything was dimly lit, because that was how he liked it. There were sculptures and priceless works of art everywhere, hundreds upon hundreds of candles, thick, plush carpets, and the library was unlike anything you had ever seen.

“Do not touch anything.” He hissed, startling you. Nuada had walked up to you without making a sound. It was more than a little unnerving that he could do such a thing. “These treasures are priceless, and I will not see them sullied by mortal hands such as yours.”

Nuala apologized profusely. “Some of the sculptures you see here belonged to our mother,” she went on to explain after he disappeared down another corridor. “And my brother is quite attached to them.”

She did not say more on the matter, and she took you to her own rooms and hosted you to a light supper. At least, that was what she called it. An elaborate meal had been laid out in the dining room of her apartment. During dinner, Nuala informed she had to return to the BPRD, as her true home was there, with Abe. She would visit from time to time, but her place was elsewhere. Your heart sank, for it meant you would have to be alone with Nuada.

“Do not fret,” she urged. “My brother has a good heart; it is just that he guards it so fiercely. Give him time, y/n. He will come around. Mr. Wink will be here as well, so you will not want for company.”

“That’s comforting,” you tell yourself. Mr. Wink was large and imposing and spoke in a language you did not understand, and his loyalty would always belong to Nuada. Still, you made peace with Nuala’s leaving, and enjoyed the rest of your dinner.

🍃During the course of the subsequent days and weeks, Nuada would go out of his way to avoid you. He dined by himself, trained by himself, and kept to his own chambers when he was not needed elsewhere. If, by chance, you did run into him, he would respond with a curt grunt before walking away. If you came upon him training, he would order you to leave him in peace. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, he would walk out of a room if you walked into it. It stung. What made it worse was knowing your stay had to last a full year before a change in placement could be requested. And that made you wretched, because the end of that year was still a long way off. Resentment took root, and you slowly began to loathe the prince for making living with him so hard.

🍃Mr. Wink, on the other hand, was surprisingly nicer, allowing you to join him while he used the mechanical toys that kept him entertained, watching TV with you, and even letting you read to him once in a while. He went so far as to ask through Nuala for you to help him learn your language.

It was a trial. Truly, it was a trial. Mr. Wink was a creature of fixed habits, and modern languages were strange to his ears. Once, he nearly flipped over a table in frustration. You had to keep to your sofa and hide your giggles while he ranted and raved and declared, through Nuala during her next visit, that human languages were languages born from the pits of hell.

“They may be languages from the pits of hell,” you tell him, “but you still need to learn. Come on. You can do this.”

The lessons continued. And Nuada’s avoidance of you continued as well.

🍃“Why do you always avoid me?” You finally mustered your courage and confronted him after breakfast. “I know you are not all that happy about it, but do you have to go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome?”

“Because you are mortal,” he rasped sharply. “That alone is enough. Now leave me. I have better things to do with my time.”

🍃And so it continued, until one dark November night, when an injured Mr. Wink brought him home, covered in wounds. A raid had gone wrong, you were told. Hellboy had taken it into his head to charge straight into a hive of tooth fairies, the largest that had been found in North America. Many in the team were injured, and Nuada was one of those who were worse off. Doctors from the Bureau came over and did the best they could. You had to see to his care after they left, as Nuala could not leave the BPRD. She too had suffered the same harm, even though she never left the facility.

For several days, Nuada slipped in and out of consciousness. You wanted to let him struggle out of spite, but seeing him helpless and weak convinced you to do otherwise. You changed his dressing, gave him bed baths to clean him up, and even changed his clothes. You avoided looking at the scars that marred an otherwise near-perfect body. It would be rude to do so, you tell yourself. He would not like being gawked at.

You brushed his hair and then read to him before making yourself comfortable on a nearby pillowed bench that served as your bed. Sometimes, you would find him looking at you with a strange expression in his eyes while you went about looking after him. You didn’t know what to make of it.

🍃“You must eat something, my prince,” you insisted one evening, holding a spoonful of soup to his mouth. “Just a spoonful. Please.”

Nuada’s appetite had deserted him, and you had to feed him his meals. He fussed and grumbled and muttered choice words in the language of his people, but he would yield to your entreaties in the end and make himself eat. It started with a spoonful, and then another, and another. Finally, when he was strong enough, he could eat properly.

🍃Then he started to talk. It’s about the little things at first: the meal before him, his sister’s wellbeing, and your lessons with Mr. Wink.

“He speaks very highly of you,” he confessed, much to your surprise. “He says you treat him with respect.”

“Do other elves treat him with respect?”

“No,” he replied. "Trolls are seen as, how do you mortals put it?" Nuada searched for the right word. "Oh yes. As the knuckledraggers of my world. Mr. Wink is a remnant of a more primitive age and, therefore, unworthy of true respect in the eyes of many. Besides my sister and myself, you are the only one who is openly kind to him."

"You are kind to him, and yet you treat me with scorn," you sighed.

The prince said nothing. He grew quiet and thoughtful. You take it as a sign to clear his tray and leave.

🍃Life with him became easier after that. While he rested, Nuada spoke of all the things he had seen and all the wondrous creatures he had met. You listened to his tales with rapt attention, for few mortals knew of such things. Finally, he opened up about his hatred for humans and why he allowed it to fester in his heart for so long.

“They killed my mother,” he spat. “When father left for war, mother traveled with him. She would stay at camp while he took off for the battlefield. He thought he had no cause for worry, for it was an unwritten rule, you see, for a military camp to be left untouched even during the height of fighting. There could be women and children present. Humans did not care for that. As soon as father’s warriors were out of sight, they attacked the camp. My mother… let us just say she did not survive.”

You did not know what to say, except for "I'm sorry.” Nuada smiled sadly and patted your hand.

“Tis not your fault,” he countered. “And it is I who should be apologizing." Nuada paused, and hesitated. "You have been nothing but considerate of my wishes the entire time, and you went out of your way to take care of me even after how I behaved in the beginning. I am ashamed of myself and must beg for your forgiveness.”

🍃Forgiveness would take a while, but Nuada did all that he could to make amends. He even invited you to accompany him to a great feast as his honored guest. That gave you pause, for while Nuada was lithe and graceful and everything a mighty warrior ought to be, you thought yourself to be the opposite of it all and told him so.

“Everyone would compare me to the other ladies,” you agonized after changing into yet another gown, one that was so soft it felt like you were clothed in nothing but air. “I cannot go looking like this.”

“No one will compare you to others,” he insisted. Nuada came into your rooms after wondering what was taking you so long. “They would not dare do so. Besides, there is nothing to give you cause for concern. Like your hair, for example. It looks beautiful the way you have arranged it.”

A flash of heat crept up your throat. No one had complimented you like this before. “It is?”

“Indeed.” Nuada came closer. “And that dress. How artfully it clings to your body. You have made a wise choice with your garments, y/n.”

“Oh.” Now your cheeks were aflame. “You’re not lying? You really like how I look?

“As my sister would tell you, lying is not something I excel at.” He grew bolder, and brushed his hand over your hip, your waist. “Soft,” he murmured. “Even softer than your dress.”

His touch was electrifying. And he was right. Lying was not something he was skilled at. You saw it with your own eyes—how he could not even pretend to be gracious in the beginning. You flushed and looked away, unsure of what to do or say. Nuada reached over and lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze.

“Did I go too far?” He murmured softly.

“No,” you mumbled. “I… I just didn’t expect such attention from someone like you. You are the crown prince. You’re dashing and skilled, and you're the greatest warrior among your people. And I… I am me.”

He went quiet for a while, as if he were thinking. “Then give me the chance to show you how you are so much more than what you believe yourself to be,” he proposed. “Can you do that, y/n? Give me such a chance?”

He was holding out his hand, his eyes bright and determined. But there was something else in those vivid golden-yellow eyes of his. Something more than determination. It tugged at you and drew you in.

He is trying, you think to yourself. He is really trying. And would it be awful to be at the receiving end of his affections?

You decided it would not be so awful after all and placed your hand in his.

tags: @nupppuff @thepjofanqueen

#prince nuada #prince nuada imagine #prince nuada x reader #nuada x reader #nuada imagine #nuada silverlance #hellboy #hellboy imagine #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request

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littledollll · 6 months

Text

Blank canvas

Lucifer Morningstar x reader

A/n: this idea was haunting me for weeks before I even posted about it and now here we are.

Big thanks to @pebbleswritessometimes for being with me through the whole writing process (like basically always I just b forgetting to tag this hoe) and @v3nusxsky for also helping out and naming the fic!

Warnings: tattoos/aftercare, shower sex, multiple orgasms, rly soft Lucifer, lots of praise.

___________________________________

It was a few years into your relationship that you thought about getting a new tattoo. Something that symbolized, showing their mark on you. Yet you didn’t actually follow through until well- today.

Early in the morning you came up with some excuse to go to the mortal realm. And since Lucifer never questioned you or your work, you got away quite easily without suspicion. The appointment had been set up for weeks, after years and years of considering and thinking it over you decided you wanted this etched permanently into your skin, for the rest of your immortal life alongside them.

You were away for most of the day, which again, they didn’t question. Because you wanted to finish the piece in one day. Knowing Lucifer wasn’t quite capable of keeping their hands to themselves for too long, and let’s be fair, neither were you. This was a surprise, and you sure as well didn’t want them to just see a half finished piece over the length of your back.

When you came back at the end of the day, they were more than overjoyed to see you. Immediately welcoming you with wandering hands and more than a few kisses. “What’d you do all day, hm? Have fun abandoning me?” You giggled at their questions as you parted from them and took their hands.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” Only a fool would refuse that offer. It seemed like logic to Lucifer that you didn’t even have to ask. “Oh? Did you miss me all day?” They said in an amused tone, and you only looked back at them with a face that told them you had a secret. “I see how it is.”

Lucifer followed you in, watching you closely as you made a point to undress facing them, they couldn’t see, not yet. “Are you gonna go in dressed or something?” You teased, seeing as they were observing you instead of getting ready themselves. “I’m trying to see what you’re plotting.” They seemed dead serious on figuring it out, like some sort of game they had to win. Ever the competitive devil.

“You think you’ll be able to read my mind if you stare at me long enough?”

“Perhaps.”

A short answer before they reluctantly started undressing themselves, having to break their view from you. Taking the chance, you almost ran into the shower, just making them more suspicious of you.

They joined you a few moments later, their hands gently placed on your hips as they looked you up and down. “You haven’t turned your back on me since you undressed.” Their tone dripping with pride, like they’ve just done their best detective work.

“Ohh good job, Detective, you have a great eye.” Your sass was clearly not welcome as they attempted to decipher what you were hiding, giving you a playful glare.

“Okay okay. You’ve gotta help me with something.” As you turned around they caught sight of the fresh saniderm bandage and the bit of ink that had released into it, not making the tattoo clear enough.

“Ah. New tattoo?.. why all the secrecy for that, my love?” They asked softly, adjusting the water to fall perfectly over your back as they gently started removing the bandage. “You’ll see.”

And see they did. They were quiet for a moment as they observed the fine-line piece. The outline of the sun, serving as some sort of heading, or halo for a simple yet beautifully drawn serpent below it. It was quite big, starting at the height of your shoulders plates down to your lower back.

Their hands gently trailed down the sides of it, not wanting to touch in case you were feeling sore. The silence was starting to worry you, and you looked over your shoulder to see what their reaction was.

You were quite pleased to see them admiring it, a soft smile on their face. Such a simple thing felt so intimate in that moment. “..you got this, for me?” the question seemed almost unsure. Their voice low and quiet as they continued to inspect it like it was the most complex piece of art they’ve ever seen, when the design was rather simple.

A simple nod was all they received and you swear you heard a whimper slip past their lips. “Can I- do you want me to help you clean it..?” It was rare to hear Lucifer be shy of all things. You, of course got it with the idea that they’d love it, but this is not the reaction you expected from them.

It felt endearing to see them be so affected by it. “That would actually be very helpful. Thank you, Luce.” They nodded. Gently, they lathered their hands in soap, opting to use just one to rub gently over the tattoo, making sure to leave it perfectly clean. You hissed, feeling a little soreness but it was quickly replaced by the feeling of their free hand inching towards your inner thighs.

They hummed, pressing themselves against your back, the other hand coming to wrap around your waist. Effectively covering you from the shower, then you felt water dripped from their hair down your shoulders. “Is this okay too?” The feeling of their breath on the back of your ear made your knees weak. The feeling only being worsened as two fingers slowly started thrusting into you and you scrambled to find some support against the shower walls.

Your shaky legs couldn’t handle your own weight with all the pleasure you were receiving. But thankfully you were saved by Lucifer’s thigh being pushed between your thighs, giving you a little more stability as the palm of their hand continued rubbing your sensitive clit. “please-“

Lucifer cut your words short with their own. “I think it’s only fair I reward you for this precious gift… don’t you?”

And who were you to deem them wrong? “Y-yes.. yes, please-“ Your moans served as encouragement as they another finger and slowly picked up their pace.

Lucifer felt as your thighs tensed up, queuing them to hold onto your shaking body just a little tighter as you released around their hand with a breathy moan.

Their hold on your waist was gone for only a second as they turned the temperature of the water cold, feeling suffocated in the heat of their own body.

You didn’t know if you were hot or freezing anymore, the cold water contrasting the burning sensation of your body and theirs. Heat burned in your stomach and between your thighs as you felt the rush of freezing cold water running down your back, and pebbling down your hard nipples. It made your whole body shiver as you needily began grinding against Lucifer’s hand.

That very same hand pushed carefully on your lower back, leading you to lean a little forward against the wall. “Good.. perfect. Now I can keep looking at your beautiful back and stunning tattoo.” They murmured, placing soft kisses over the back of your neck and wherever they could reach of your back.

“Spread your legs a little more for me baby.. don’t worry. I won’t let go of you.”

They didn’t give you a chance to breathe after that as they simply picked up the pace once again responding to your needy grinding and effectively turning you into a whining, withering mess in their hands.

“You’re perfect. So perfect, my darling.” Their voice was breathy now as they took their time, switching between running two fingers down your slit and toying with that pulsing bundle of nerves and using those same two fingers to fuck you to oblivion.

Lucifer kept you pressed against the shower wall, your nipples rubbing against the cold tiles whenever they pounded into you, only giving you the illusion of a break when they went back to circling your clit, practically bathing in the sweet sounds of your broken moans.

“I love it, sweet one… who knew you could be even prettier, hm?” They muttered, clearly still hung up on admiring your new tattoo.

You felt delirious. Quickly tumbling over that delightful edge again as Lucifer slowed down for once, keeping their focus on your clit. Your cheek was helplessly pressed against the cold tile as you panted to catch your breath, which was difficult considering Lucifer refused to stop their ministrations any time soon. “Luce..”

“Give me one more, angel.. just like this, just one more.”

Apparently it wasn’t enough that you felt weak enough to turn to mush, or that you quite literally couldn’t stand anymore and they were the only thing standing between you and the hard tile. Clearly your shaking body was no sign of stopping for your devil.

Your eyes slipped shut as curses and cries continued tumbling from your lips. Somehow the slow, almost gentle pace felt much more effective than the previous harsh one. Perhaps it was the overstimulation. No, it clearly was. Your mind was simply not functioning enough at that point to think about the most logical reason why everything felt ten times better, or why every drop of water against your skin made your whole body want to tumble over the edge.

It didn’t take long, of course. Not with their warm skin wrapping and pressing against you, contrasting the cold water. Not with their delightfully long fingers thrusting into you. Certainly not with the palm of their hand rubbing your sensitive clit.

Slowly, they worked you down from your high. Switching from a slower pace to just a sweet and gentle caress, before both arms wrapped around your body and they held you close, pressing your back against them. You could vaguely tell Lucifer’s tone was one of praise as they whispered against your ear. But in all reality you had no idea what they were saying.

You simply relished in their gentle hold, providing you much needed support. Almost sure you’d crumble into nothing if your lover let you go.

You’re not exactly sure how long you stood under the running shower, wrapped in their arms with their face nuzzled sweetly against the crook of your neck. This wasn’t the outcome you had planned, but one things for sure. This was definitely not going to be the last tattoo you got for your loving devil.

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sentoooo · 3 months

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[anon: Can you do a NSFW alphabet for kenshi? Cause that man is so fine] THANK YOU ANON THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES OVER !!!!! HE'S FIIIIIINER THAN FIIIIIIIIINE BROOOOO LIKE OH MY GOOOOOOD I HAVENT SEEN MUCH FOR HIM AT ALL!?!?!?!? LIKE I GET HE'S JOHNNY'S BOYFRIEND BUT HE CAN BE YOURS TOO

as i write this i am also actively writing a smut fic for him so oh em GEE thank you for reading my mind anon i love you i also hope you dont mind the projecting im head over heels for this man

cw: amab reader, NSFW, body worship, praise, light bondage, sensory play, blindfolding, breath play, edging, slight mention of orgasm torture, can you tell i have a favorite?, proofread MINORS DNI

ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ || ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kenshi is a saint. Beyond one, actually. It's almost like he commits the sex to memory. He knows exactly how to take care of you, every. damn. time. He's holding you close afterwards, kissing your forehead. Then he's picking you up, still holding you close to his chest. As he's carrying you to the shower, he's whispering all sorts of praises in your ears, as if you two aren't alone. He also asks you to be his eyes, even though he's remembered the layout of the room. He thinks it's intimate. He also loves washing you up, touch is a big thing for him. He's all soft and slow with it, scratching at your scalp in a very affectionate way, lathering your body up with soap. He loves it when you reciprocate it, as well. Having your hands wander down his body, from his face to his collarbone to his chest, and even further, shit, he's already moaning.

After the shower, Kenshi insists you wear one of his older shirts. Yeah, he can't see it, but he still likes the idea of it. Visualizing you in one of his shirts and your boxers, it almost gets him off. And once you two are laying back on the bed, he's going to give you a massage. He takes his time, even if you complain your tired. He doesn't care, he's taking in every bit of your body as he runs his hands down your back, tracing every single little divot in your definition.

Once that is all done, he keeps you in his arms. He'll fall asleep almost too quickly, but he needs another moment where he can hold you after sex, he wants you to know how much these moments mean to him, and he wants you to know exactly how much he loves you. Just don't kiss his neck, he's sensitive, and he's more than ready to go for another round.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kenshi's proud of his hands and his arms. He remembers them being big, and shit, they still are. But now, they are his guiding force, and part of the way he sees the world. Of course, Sento offers him vision in the way of spiritual outlines, but Sento doesn't do your body justice like his hands do. He knows your body by fucking heart, love. He's traced your body a million times over, and you're still not over his touch. He knows how much you yearn for it, and he won't ever deny you.

He loves your stomach, specifically just above your dick. He finds it to be soft, and inviting. But he also loves how sensitive you get when he traces his hands from your waist to your stomach. He loves just running his hands up your body, in general. Of course he does. He also loves your thighs. Kenshi is 130% a thigh man, all the way. Especially stretch marks. He loves just running his hands on the inside of your thighs, making you squirm and moan. You always catch a smirk on his face whenever he earns one of your pretty noises when he does this.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn't mind where he's cumming, as long as he is. Whatever you're comfortable with, he'll do. Of course he loves to cum on your thighs if you want him to cum outside. Or on your stomach. He can't see it, but he likes to use that as leverage to show you what he loves about you. And if you're okay with him cumming inside, he's going to fuck his cum right back into you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh, he doesn't keep any secrets in the bedroom. He loves telling you all the things he wishes to do with you, to you. He's a cocky asshole in bed, and for good reason. He's always love the thought of you tied up, at his mercy. Or having you ride him till you physically can't anymore. Using a vibrator on you, orgasm after orgasm. He tells you it all.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kenshi's got the second most experience next to Johnny, I like to think. He's had his fair share of lovers and quick fucks, but nothing quite like you. He knows your body more than you do, he knows that small hitch in your breath when your riding him means you're going to cum, or the fact that your collarbone is the most sensitive part of your body. He's doing you a favor, really. Knowing you this well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowboy, Prone, Spooning, Eagle, he's got a whole arsenal of favorites. But, above all, he loves Lotus. He prefers whichever positions gives you the most pleasure, but he also loves being face-to-face. He loves being able to kiss you, so passionately, full of lust, adoration, and hunger. He loves feeling your breath on his face while he makes you feel good.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's serious. Yeah, he'll be cocky and confident, but he won't crack any jokes or anything of the sort. He's going to let you know you're all his, and just how much he appreciates that. Kissing down from your jawline to your neck is another thing he finds intimate, it's something he does when he's not only needy, but he wants you to know just how much he wants you. Even if he's in you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's got some hair. A little arm hair and a fucking magnificent happy trail, but he's relatively clean shaven pubes wise. If he ever thought about shaving his happy trail, you let it be known that you wouldn't fuck him for at least a month.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kenshi's a romantic at heart. Yeah, he's a devious guy, and he truly yearns for you with a lust like no other, but he's also making you feel loved in every. single. way. He's telling you just how much he loves you, and everything he loves about you. Your hair, which always falls in your face when your riding him, your waist and just how perfectly it fits his hands, your thighs and how warm and inviting they are, all of it. And there are always breaks in the moment, where he'll push his body up against yours, and kiss you till he can't breath. Quiet moments, where he runs his hand through your hair and rubs your thighs, just listening to your breathing. Shit, makes me weak in the knees to think about it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's got a moderate sex drive, so if he can't have you, then he's jacking off about four times a week. But, if he can, he'll hold off until he can have you. Especially if he knows it'll be soon. He always has and always will prefer you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Body Worship. With his sight gone, appreciating your body has a whole new meaning. Especially if you were with him before he lost his sight. Foreplay takes an HOUR, I mean it. He's loving on every single inch of your body, grazing over it with his warm fingers, kissing down your body and back up. He's a tease, like this. But he insists it's a crucial part of sex. And it is. Without it, he almost feels lost. He likes to go over your body as if he doesn't remember it. But god, he does. Sometimes, he can even make you cum like this. By the end of it, you're a whimpering mess, begging for his touch.

Praise is another one. With just how lustful and horribly unfair he is, he likes to praise you for doing such a good job and holding out for him. Waiting for him. He loves getting extremely close to your ear, and whispering "good boy," all breathily.

On that note, breath play is another one that he can't not use. Paired with sensory play, he likes blindfolding you and just tracing his mouth down your body. Breathing soft, heavy. Down your neck, listening as you shiver in delight. Knowing that you are at the same disadvantage as he is at sex, it actually really gets him off.

And finally, light bondage. Having you completely at his mercy, open to him. Even the mention of it gets him off. He loves it when you beg, actually. It's exciting, he always has to take a couple moments to figure out what he wants to do with you. Leaving you whining, begging for him to at least touch you when he's thinking.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home, anywhere. He prefers to fuck you in his bed, but he also loooooves it when you ask for him to fuck you on the counter. The bed feels more intimate, and that is where you two fuck the most often. But like I said, as long as it's in the comfort of his own home, he's happy to fuck you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Touch. All of Kenshi's senses are heightened, but he is just extremely sensitive. When you come up from behind him and place your hands on his shoulders, and trail them down his body, that's almost like a death sentence. Anything you do in a teasing way, rubbing up against him, placing kisses against his neck, all of it. You can always feel his boner rise from his growing lust.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you. Now, he's all for edging you, overstimulating you, and overall just torturing you with his touch. But anything that could leave so much as a dent on your body is a hard no. It's something he's quite afraid of, actually. He wants to protect you, not harm you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kenshi loves receiving. He loves the warmth of your lips, and how they wrap around his cock so perfectly. He's also a little insecure about giving, mainly because he's unsure if he still has it like he used to. But, if you offer oral, shit. He'll practically beg for it sometimes. It's hard for him not to buck his hips, he always tries to restrain himself, but he just can't.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Kenshi will always fuck you slow and sensual. As devious as he is, he NEEDS to take his time with you. Sex with him lasts almost the entire night, really. Don't worry, he'll fuck you till you see stars, but he prefers to keep the mood intimate. You don't mind it, no. He makes you feel good and loved in whole new ways.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hard pass. Kenshi hates quickies. Like full on hatred, despises them. He needs ample time to love on you and explore your body, he just can't properly get off in any less time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kenshi's comfortable where he is, and doesn't really like to experiment. He thinks what he's doing is just fine, and that's that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shit, he could go on all day and night if time permitted it. A full session for him lasts the entire night. He's going to make sure you cum at least twice, if not, more. Not just because of his stamina, but because of his yearning and lust for you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

All sorts. Mainly stimulation ones, like a vibrator wand and a vibrating cock ring. He threw out his fleshlights after you two first fucked. He prefers to use them on you, but to be honest, he also enjoys fucking you with a cock ring. It makes him all kinds of loud. And it's especially pleasurable when he pushes all the way into you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kenshi is a fucking DICKHEAD. Like the definition of one. Some nights, he feels like edging you. Over and over and over, he likes to see just how far he can push you, until you can't take it anymore. But sometimes, he's merciful. He'll let you cum whenever you wish. However, there are a few times where he needs you to ask him to cum. And if you cum without permission? Hm, He's just not going to fuck you. You can figure it out, baby, you're already on his dick.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kenshi's rather quiet, but he still moans. All in your ear, sometimes he can't even get proper words out because he's just so caught up in your body and your touch. Sometimes, especially with his toys, he'll get all loud, moaning your name over and over again.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kenshi is rather possessive of you. You're his, through and through. And he makes it known. Sometimes, he can get a little primal during sex, holding onto you with such a purpose, whispering "mine" with every thrust into your ear. Trailing hickies from your jaw to your waist, he doesn't care who sees. He's not embarrassed. He wants- no- he needs people to know you're all his.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kenshi's biiiiig. He's a grower, 6.8" in length when hard, 1.9" across. He's moderately veiny, and leans slightly towards the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

While he has a pretty high sex drive, it's actually malleable with you. He wants you all the time, yes, but he's also more than fine with waiting. He will always make his lust known to you, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After his aftercare ritual is complete, he's almost out. You can hear his voice drop and get all sleepy, and his movements become more lazy. Regardless, he wants to hold you a little before he falls asleep, so he does. He loves it when you rest your head on his chest, with his fingers running through your hair. He'll pass out after like a minute of that, actually.

#⁺◟sentooo #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x male reader #mk x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x male reader

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