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007reid · 7 months

Note

sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires

FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍

dreams. spencer reid (18+)

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)

summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon

warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!

spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.

you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.

today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.

“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”

still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.

his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"

"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."

you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.

***

spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.

it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.

"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.

"mhm. no."

"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.

"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.

you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.

"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.

you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"

he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.

"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.

"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.

he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.

"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"

he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."

"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"

"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.

he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.

you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.

spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”

you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.

“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.

“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.

“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”

he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.

“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”

you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”

“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“

“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”

“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.

you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.

“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“

“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.

“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.

his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”

“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.

you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.

you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.

you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.

“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.

“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.

you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“

“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.

“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”

“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”

you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.

when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”

your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.

“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.

spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #my works

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poisonous-honey · 3 months

Text

Fontaine Is Committing Childe Slander fr

Spoilers For The 4.2 Archon Quest

Content: Sagau reader insert (not the cult au), a lot of swearing

Note: Wrote this a while ago, just didn't post till now. This was written because of how frustrated I was with Childe's treatment in the quest. They did him so, so dirty.

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Hearing your scream, Neuvillette, Aether, and Paimon nearly flinched and gave themselves away if it wasn't for Skirk quickly turning around and staring them dead in their eyes.

"AFTER ALL OF THAT, WE DON'T EVEN GET TO TALK TO HIM? WHAT THE HELL"

They never liked hearing you get upset, but since this was a scripted event, they could do nothing but play their parts. Aether wanted nothing more than to jump in and find Childe for you, if even just to get you to stop yelling, but his hands were tied. And seeing the intense look the lady across from him was giving, he doesn't think he'd be able to get away with it even if he tried.

"No 'hey, how're you doing? What's up? Where the fuck did you go? How did you end up fighting a god-damn space whale? I was worried.' We really get to say none of that? Skirk just throws him away like he's yesterday's trash? At least, I think that's Skirk... Okay, fine, whatever."

The group notices a slight twitch in Skrik's expression, as if she was annoyed, but it's gone not a moment later.

"Skirk I hope you're kinda funny cause this is a terrible first impression."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟

Skirk watches as Neuvillette sends the traveller topside, hoping that he starts the scripted conversation without any hassle.

"Was it necessary to throw him so aggressively into the portal?"

Of course, that's not what happened. If Childe's mad ramblings were anything to go by, all of those that become the players "characters" seem to grow inexplicably attached to them. She didn't hold his words in high regard since he was insane, but seeing the hydro sovereign already taking a liking to you gives some weight to his words.

"He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle."

Neuvillette, still looking troubled, tells her that you really wanted to see him again after nearly 2 years of nothing.

"Didn't you also upset the player when you pounced on him and sent him to prison for no good reason?"

Neuvillette gave a slight wince, "I had no other choice. The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale gave the sentence and the law must be upheld."

Skirk doesn’t look amused, Neuvillette just sighs "... And the action itself was scripted. I had my hands tied."

"Then you have no right to look so troubled over my actions. It was simply scripted, nothing deeper. I would not intentionally go looking to upset the player, especially since they can control whoever they want. I have no desire to go back to the surface, which I would be forced to if they ever felt like messing with me."

He hums, "The player has much less control than you think. Even if they wanted to take control of you, they wouldn't or shouldn't be able to do so for quite a while. Falling into their good graces is the only way to get chosen, and you seem to have only just piqued their interest."

Neuvillette was just stating facts. He heard you crying about how your latest wishing session for Furina took everything you had. He doubts even if Skirk’s banner was a couple patches from now you'd have enough to get her. Skirk herself looks a little frustrated at the mention of gaining your favour, but quickly lets it go.

"As long as I have time to prepare, I suppose. Anyway, We should have our scripted conversation before time runs out. Unless you want them to start freaking out again."

"Of course not, let us continue."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟

"The fuck do you mean he's already in Snezhnaya."

Lyney's eyes slightly widen in shock, not expecting that visceral of a reaction. Aether slightly shakes his head to try and get him not to worry about it while Paimon starts her bashful idle as a way to look elsewhere without arising suspicion.

"We don't even get to say goodbye, what the heck. Wait, we never even figured out what was going on with his vision either. They actually just threw him to the wayside! If he doesn't show up in the next interlude, I'm going to be ☆mad☆"

Aether tilts his head down as he starts to ponder. He was also a bit frustrated with how little they learned about what was going on with him. Obviously the whal- Narwhal was involved in someway, but nothing is explained outside their connection. He's suddenly ripped from his thoughts as you pick his next dialogue option and continue the story.

The story continues for a little bit as Arlecchino arrives to join the conversation. You add in some quips of your own as you're watching, but are mostly silent. They just take it as you being tired from the whirlwind of emotions the quest put you through.

Aether then realizes the next actions he has to take and struggles to keep a straight face.

*Actually, I just remembered something... Please help us deliver this.*

"I swear to god, don't give her Childe's vision. He hates her. He trusted us."

Aether can no longer hold back his wince as he holds out Childe's vision for Arlecchino to take. She almost looks amused as they hear you sigh.

"Goddammit."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟

Childe was in agony.

This pain went far beyond his physical injuries. The last words he heard from you were you crying out to him. It frustrated him to no end that by the time he gets to see you again, he passes out. He can barely remember your words of praise and cooing about how cool he was for fighting such a creature. Your worry and the fact he doesn't even get to talk to you after all this time hasn't left the forefront of his mind since he woke up. Injuries be damned, he wanted to find the Traveller. He wanted to get something out of that vacation, more than just one conversation, getting arrested, and an incomplete fight. He thought that as long as you still had his vision, he would surely see you again and his vacation would end smoothly, but of course the story seemed to have it out for him. All he could do now was lay here in pain, stuck in his mind while his family is off doing something else.

He's upset he didn't get to finish his fight and that you had to finish it for him.

He's upset his foul legacy has taken such a toll on his body, he can't do anything.

He's upset that his family has to see him in such a state.

He's upset he missed your first encounter with Skirk.

He's upset he didn't even get to talk to you again.

And more than anything, he's upset he can't be there for you.

As he was about to continue wallowing in self-pity and regret, he suddenly finds himself fully geared, standing in front of the Abyss, with no injuries.

"Such bullshit. I loved the story quest, but why was Childe pushed to the side. It's almost like they had no idea what to do with him after they got him to the whale. Oh! It's just one of the creatures he's been wanting to fight for nearly all his life. Do we get to know how he feels about it? Nooo of course not. My man just wanted to go on vacation, and he had to deal with all of this."

Hearing your voice almost washes away all his stress, and hearing you complain about how he was treated washes away all his sorrow. It pleases him to know you hated what happened to him just as much, if not more, than he did. He could tell from your ranting and the fact you've already gotten 36 stars that you were going to fight just to let off steam. That's perfect for him. Killing something is just what he needs to take his mind off of recent events, killing things with and for you makes it even better. He'll be sure to make the best of this before you log off for the day, and he's back to being bedridden.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin x reader #childe x reader #iw8wgwbsiwhwbd JUSTICE FOR CHILDE #HIS TREATMENT IN THIS QUEST WAS BULL #WHAT KIND OF A VACATION WAS THIS #and after everything he went through for Tuecer you know he hates that he had to go home like that #I'm not even a Childe simp but omg i just couldn't #I like my plot holes to be filled in please #though if they were actually answered in the quest please let me know #i need answers #Pois.Posts #pois.writes

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

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sunaluv · 11 months

Note

A cute prompt! The moment they realized they want to spend the rest of their lives with you 🥺🥺 (Also hi hello new follower here i love ur works!!!! Hope ur having an awesome day stay safe and stay hydrated 🫶🫶🫶)

i got you

feat: ran, eren, shigaraki(🥹), gojo

RAN

ill be honest, it was probably during an argument.

he was absolutely smitten with you. that was probably why you too rarely fought. also, the two of you were too unbothered to draw out fights long.

so when it hit the 2-day mark and he hadn't seen or heard from you since you stormed out of the house, he became worried.

he had a lot of enemies and you knew that too. his mind kept him up at night if he didn't spend it combing the streets of japan looking for you.

the rest of bonten saw it too. he became more snappy with his colleagues (they had to calm mikey down before they fought fr), he went crazy and fired his secretary for some reason, mans was spiralling out of control.

his brother hated seeing him like this, so he helped look for you, contacting all your friends and family on your whereabouts.

eventually they found you, hiding in your friends' house (she's a real one and told them she didn't know where you were when they asked).

ran was an emotional wreck. over a girlllll.

honestly, rindou was shaking his head, but he knew his brother was in deep.

you talked things out and smoothed it over, and although you were a little pissy with him, you allowed him to hold you in his embrace, whispering gently apologies in between kisses to your hairline.

when you finally fell asleep in his arms, ran didn't want to let you go or sleep. he felt like you might disappear if he takes his eyes off you for a second.

that when it hit him how deeply in love he was with you, and he (along with everyone in the bonten building) realised you really do keep him sane and he can't imagine a life without you.

he promised that, if you stuck around long enough, he'll make sure you stay with him forever <3

EREN

best friends to lovers trope woop woop

okay so he realised this way before you two got together.

so one day, there was a big falling out in your friend group which caused a massive divide.

you, mikasa, sasha, and the eldia boys (reiner, bert) were all on one side. and eren, armin, jean connie and such were on the other side. yall were a big friend group too so the news travelled fast that you divided.

you and eren weren't the causation, but people had to pick sides which meant you were split up.

the divide couldn't have come at a worse time too because you were in that stage where you knew you had feelings for each other and were flirting and dancing around the fact that you wanted to be together.

now you couldn't be seen together by your friends unless you wanted to cause more drama (giving romeo and juliet).

he still had a strong desire to see you, so he often snuck around with you in the evening/night time, and it honestly was kinda romantic, though you wished you could hang out in the day too.

he took you out on 'dates' (referred to as 'friendly outings' bc feelings are complicated) and he drew them out as long as possible because he hated it when it was time to say goodbye. every time you left, he would count down the hours before he could see you again.

absence really does make the heart grow fonder because he had to control himself from gravitating towards you during the day and it hurt the both of you.

it was one random night where he couldn't fall asleep. he was just staring at the ceiling, replaying your whole date in his head and he didn't realise he started smiling a little.

with his head buried in the pillow, he sighed wanting nothing more than to be with you forever.

SHIGARAKI

you were the first and probably the only girl to show interest in him and honestly, the minute you did, he thought yall were locked in for life.

he thought relationships were purely meant to be transactional, so when he finally understood that you just wanted to be there for him because you truly cared and loved for him? he thought he was sick by the way his heart squeezed.

it took him a while to adjust, and you gave him all the time and space he needed because the last thing you wanted was for him to be overwhelmed.

he slowly became more comfortable with you helping him with things, once he learnt he didn't have to do everything solo whilst he was around.

he was changing for the better (not too much tho), he notices how much healthier he looked now that he was getting three proper meals a day, his skin felt hydrated and the desire to itch his skin off drastically lessened.

he felt like it was too good to be true and became paranoid that something bad was gonna happen like the heroes taking you away, or AFO manipulating you, like he did to him.

kurogiri felt proud of his young master for recalling the 'gentlemanly advice' he gave him as he watched the two of you converse on the loveseat in the quiet bar.

his league was empty, the bar was old and not bringing in enough money and he had a whole lot on his plate which was enough to make him hate everything.

but with you around, he could learn to hate things a little less <3

GOJO

manga spoilers

mans busted out the box and was craving your touch instantly!

the last conversation you had before he got sealed was him telling you he'll be back later, pecking your pout away before leaving.

little did you know you wouldn't see gojo for another 19 days.

he didn't have a lot of time before he had to go and fight sukuna, so he wanted to talk to you while his time was still guaranteed.

the reunition was hella emotional, he squeezed you so tight and let your tears soak his shirt.

he pulled your face back to meet his gaze, and you were surprised to see tears welling up in his eyes, but that was the least of your problems. you noticed him trying to get his words out and you were patient as he seemed to be finding the right words to say.

after lots of out of character stuttering, he blurted out "marry me."

you were shocked and he was scared he crossed the line when you went silent for a minute, but you very emotionally said yes on your apartment floor in your baggy sweats and t-shirt belonging to your now-fiancee.

although it was just under 3 weeks he was gone, it felt like an eternity without you, so he vowed that when he got out of the box, he was going to make sure you know he will always come back for you.

#eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader

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maximotts · 9 months

Note

18. “so perfect all tied up for me.” With your dollhouse au? I’m imagining those silk ribbon bondage rope not just tying you down but wrapped around you because Wanda thinks it’s such a pretty sight <3

I'm a different person posting this than I was yesterday when I started this fic... and then it got Deleted in drafts and I saw my life flash before my eyes. This is edited kinda, but honestlyyy I just needed to conquer it at this point lmao

please don't flag this fic, I have warnings clearly labeled

Doll House AU. masterlist. wc: 1.7 cw: 18+ only, please. smut, fluff. loose ribbon bondage. body worship. inspection. fingering (r receiving). oral (r receiving). size kink if you squint. overstim. mommy kink. snuggly aftercare. and then all the usual Doll House warnings.

Wanda and Doll spend an intimate afternoon in bed, Wanda perfecting her ribbon tying skills while judging your patience

⁛— 2nd birthday sleepover.

"There you go, all nice and pretty..."

Silk ribbons adorned your figure, wrapping you like an extra present to Wanda, from Wanda. She'd spent the past hour fawning over you atop your plush bed, shedding your morning outfit only to replace it with buttery soft threads. "So perfect, all tied up for me."

It wasn't tight enough to restrain you really, if you truly wanted to wiggling away was an option— but you didn't want anything of the sort. Wanda's undivided attention was the best kind of afternoon you could hope for.

Curious as ever, you still had your questions. "Mommy, why aren't these tight?"

Shrugging your shoulders showed off the little movement you could make, careful not to undo any of Wanda's hard work. The older woman laughed and kissed your hip above the ribbon she'd tied over your curves, amusement filled green eyes gazing up and instantly bringing a dopey smile to your face. "I don't want to tie you down, not today at least."

"Then what are we doing?" Oh you wished so badly you could reach up and kiss her, but your wrists tied at your middle stopped you from bending too far, again more fearful of messing up whatever goal Wanda strove for.

And that was the most of what you were doing, Wanda testing your patience, whatever willingness you had to let your reverence of her outweigh your own desires... so far you were performing perfectly.

“We’re playing, of course. Silly thing,” Wanda sat up between your legs, crawling over your prone body until she could reach your neck for her next area of focus. It was an excessive show of possession, biting endlessly along your throat, leaving marks she'd be tending to for days after, relishing in how helplessly you squirmed under her; this could easily become her favorite afternoon playtime. "Aren't you having fun?"

Lithe fingers slid under the thick ribbons at your legs, playfully tugging just to hear your surprised squeak. Your legs fell apart with nearly no coaxing, Wanda’s fingernails scraping over your inner thighs just the way she knew you adored. Small shivers rattled your body as best they could within your restraints, ever conscious of leaving them in place, and the moment she laid eyes on your glistening sex she remembered why she’d decided to keep your lower limbs tied separately.

“I asked you a question.” The only answer she received was your meek nod, an action that resulted in a faux pout from Wanda, more concerned with how often you forgot you were allowed to speak now rather than whether or not you were truly enjoying yourself. That much was evident.

“It sure looks like you’re having fun,” Spreading your folds apart was just as easy as your legs, leaving you completely vulnerable to Wanda’s impromptu inspection. No matter how long you stayed with her, there was a persistent shyness about you, but your longing for your mommy’s approval always won out. It would be so easy to uncurl your hands where they rested bound together a mere few inches above Wanda’s, to push her away and cover yourself… but you didn’t— just as Wanda expected of you.

Today’s obedience earned you a reward, but Wanda wouldn’t spell it out for you, preferring instead to continue her game of testing self-restraint. It was better to train you into behaving even without possible reward, no matter that she already spoiled you rotten every chance she got. Two wet digits left their examination and came to settle on your waiting lips, your patience forced but steadfast. “Say please.”

“Please mommy, may I clean your fingers?” The drawn out please was so adorable Wanda wanted to suffocate you, but instead she sated herself with your grateful sigh around her, your tongue diligently licking until she drew them away.

Her hand came back to settle between your supple thighs, fingers sliding easily through your sex, knuckles just barely grazing your clit. Curious fingertips fell down to your entrance, gathering warm wetness from where you were dripping and bringing them to her own mouth this time. She always wondered if you knew how desperate she was to have you, but one look down at your dazed expression answered that for her easily. “Did my playtime make you all icky? Do I need to clean you up?”

Admittedly, the past hour of Wanda’s gentle touches, sweet words and even sweeter kisses left your brain fuzzy. The tingling in the pit of your stomach had grown into a calm and pleasant ache, much gentler than the gnawing, desperate clawing that plagued you whenever Wanda was rough. Sometimes she left you at that painful edge, frustrated to no end and chastising any complaints she caught. Today if she’d left you with nothing, maybe you’d be able to manage the evening with dull nagging, but the notion of an orgasm at the end of your slowly building high was too tempting to pass by; you had to make your need known. “Make it better, please… want it so bad.”

“So now you speak up, whenever you need something from me…” Wanda took her sweet time traveling down your front, lips brushing over every curve and divot so that when she finally placed one last adoring kiss atop your mound, anticipation buzzed through your veins. “You can cum as much as you’d like, but don’t you dare untie yourself.”

Sometimes Wanda’s rewards were straightforward, a simple start and finish before she sent you off. Surprisingly, you preferred rewards you worked towards together, ones like these where her tongue drew intricate patterns over your clit, teasing and testing just how far gone she could pull you while you remained committed to following her rules. It was harder than it looked, knowing you had the ability to twist and turn with every perfectly placed stroke, but willing your body to stay confined, to preserve Wanda’s ribbon-tied handiwork.

Thankfully they allowed space for the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the clenching of your core as the first wave of orgasm washed over, knocking your head back into your plush array of pillows as you erupted into a fit of moans and pleas. “Mommy.. Mommy, please.. again! Wanna cum again-”

“Such a needy doll, so pretty all tied up for me and begging for my mouth.” It was a brutal inner battle to keep from bucking your hips, fingers fidgeting at your midsection to keep busy in anything other than Wanda’s hair. When she descended again it was all worth it, warm mouth suckling at your swollen bud to distract from the three fingers prodding at your hole.

The stretch was maddening, an instantaneous full feeling sending you over the edge again before Wanda even got the chance to move. She groaned around you as she felt your walls clench, free hand coming to wrap securely around your upper thigh; instinct drove you to back away from the thick intrusion, but she couldn’t have any of that. “Shh, sweetheart, let mommy play a little longer.”

“O-Okay..” Your previous pleasant need evolved into something more, something starved within that only reared its head when Wanda’s intentions turned heady. Careful not to toss around too much, you relaxed as your thoughts settled into a low hum, taking every thrust and each curl of her fingers until individual orgasms merged to one neverending bliss.. you’d lost count after three anyways.

After some unmeasured amount of time, Wanda granted you a reprieve, leaving you dreadfully empty and weakly clenching around nothing. You felt limp head to toe, unable to even raise your arms without Wanda’s help as she worked to slowly unwrap you. She took her time so as not to startle you, smoothing over any tiny indent her ribbon left from your movements and doting on it with a cautious rub of her thumb.

Once she was done, she was genuinely surprised you hadn’t dozed off; the act of overstimulation alone was occasionally enough to leave you napping for hours. But today heavy eyes lazily followed her every move, bottom lip quivering more visibly by the second. “You did a wonderful job today, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise was much appreciated as always, but you’d been missing one thing terribly since Wanda had first given the instruction to lay back while she unfurled her ribbon and tired as you were, you needed one last clarification. “Can I touch you now, I want a hug…”

“Of course, we’re long past our game.” You were in Wanda’s lap after the second word, curling into her and wrapping your arms around her middle in the tightest hug you could muster. Any time she searched your thoughts, they were full of her, the urge to be near her so strong Wanda was surprised whenever she got a moment to herself these days.

It was the sweetest form of devotion she could imagine, the pure need to keep her presence in whatever capacity; your lovey ways never failed to render her heart gooey. “That’s why you were so pouty just now, my poor little snugglebug.”

Giving your tummy the gentlest tickle before drawing the sheets closer, Wanda scooted you both until she could lay you down; not that the position mattered much when you stayed attached at the hip. Content little noises rumbled against Wanda’s arm as you made them, keeping still even as you craned your neck to cover her cheek in appreciative smooches. “Nap with me, mama. I’m sleepy.”

“If you insist,” Now it was Wanda’s turn for restraint. It’d take little to no effort to pull herself from your grip even without her powers; there were a myriad of things waiting for her to do downstairs… but she stayed put. The desire to see your smiling face when you woke up in a while, ever excited to wake up in her arms, far outweighed any living room cleaning.

#I'm so exhausted pls forgive typos #doll house au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #maximotts 2nd anniversary #motts writes.#maximotts

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lycheedr3ams · 9 months

Note

Okay. I just had to tell you that the emotionally unavailable König piece stays on my mf*ing mind. I don't know how but you managed to stir a dragon or corrupt me, I don't know, I need therapy I know but I feel so addicted to that drabble. I've read it over and over again.

Like, the little details how he treats you purely professionally when you're not fucking, how he wraps himself with that condom every single time and doesn't even feel bothered, how he chooses solitude (or someone else who knows) over you whenever he wants, how he doesn't seem to even feel much of anything besides the occasional lust?! It's DEVASTATING and I'm frothing at the mouth. I need help haha

Oh and even the pic at the top, that lonely ethereal unseen message "I dream about kissing you often". Wtf dude. Jesus Christ.

Brilliant. I'm just. Out of words. That drabble is art, thank you for sharing ❤️❤️‍🩹❤️ (Also please wish me a speedy recovery)

i think you have just melted my heart❤️❤️❤️

it is a huge compliment for me when people say they reread my fics. this ask has given me inspiration to do a drabble of the situation from könig's perspective.

warning: this may break your heart too...

part 2 of Relapse

part 3

TW: mentions of NSFW below the cut, self-hatred, könig being kinda toxic, brief brief mention of self harm, mentions of canon-typical violence, obsessive!könig, MDNI and just block me atp

the moment könig laid eyes on you, the task force's incredibly skilled - and beautiful - sniper, he hated you. or rather, he hated how much he was obsessed with you. he wasn't stupid; he knew how all the men on base would stare at you, the way they'd talk about you as you walked by, not even realizing how good your ass and hips looked in your uniform cargo pants. but unlike most guys on base, he saw more than just your curves and feminine charm: he saw a soldier who gave her all to get to where she was, a soldier who dedicated her entire being to her profession and was damn good at it.

unlike him, you never so much as moved a muscle when you lay prone with your sniper rifle. you never fumbled while you reloaded or looked around anxiously, fiddling with a knife so your hands never felt empty. you interacted with others with ease, never seeming to second-guess your words or demeanor. you were the best shot on the task force (don't tell ghost, though), you had the best concentration, and you were irreplaceable. sure, könig was irreplaceable too: no one had his aura, his physical prowess, or his intensity that made enemies flee the moment he saw them. but to könig, that didn't matter: you were everything he could never be.

he knew - thought - that he had no chance with you. you were secretly desired by almost every man on base, so why would you choose him? the jittery and intense newest addition who was just a little too tall, who fidgeted a little too much, and whose accent, he thought, was a little too thick to be alluring. but he also just hated you. hated to see a little woman like yourself literally living his dream of being a sniper. he was usually assigned to guard you when you lay prone while sniping on a mission, and when könig was sure you weren't paying attention, he would glare angrily at you, staring daggers into the back of your head. his eyes would lazily take in your body, but not in a lustful way. könig hated how still you could lay, how you could just concentrate simply on what was through your scope rather than what was in your mind.

but könig couldn't deny the part of himself that just simply wanted to take you. despite how much he hated your skill, he couldn't deny your soft curves, your pretty smile, or how you always wore your favorite perfume when off duty. many nights when könig lay alone in his room on base, he would furiously jerk off the thought of you while clenching his teeth in self-hate, absolutely disgusted with himself for desiring the person who was everything he could never be. könig also hated the way he would come so hard to the thought of forcing you on your knees, making you take all of his throbbing cock in your mouth, fucking into your throat roughly, punishing you for being the soldier he could never be. he loved to imagine the tears that would spring in your eyes at the burn of his thick cock stretching your throat. but worst of all, könig hated himself for wanting to ruin such a pretty little thing like you.

that was, until you began talking to him. the first time you approached könig, you said you were curious about his knives. he froze, thankful that his sniper hood hid his almost blushing cheeks and agape mouth. but könig couldn't help the excitement of your question. someone was interested in something he liked? with quiet, jittery movements, he quickly took out one of his favorite knives from a pants pocket and shoved it almost right in your hands, talking about it wildly in german before you looked up at him with a confused smile. he blushed under his hood and began to speak calmly and quietly in english about his favorite knife that you now held in your small, soft hands. even when you handed the knife back to him after learning all about it, the warmth from your skin lingered on its cold hilt. könig's eyes widened slightly when he felt just how warm it was, and he couldn't help but wonder what other parts of your body were just as warm, or even warmer.

könig began to grow more and more at ease the more you approached him. the night that your conversation ended up with you naked on his bed, he truly thought he was living a dream. the way your soft, feminine curves lay on his bed in his room, how you looked like an absolute goddess surrounded by his knives and guns lying around, was mesmerizing to him. his hatred of you be damned, könig needed you. so he took you just like you wanted and craved.

but even though you had willingly spread your soft, wet folds for him, könig could never bring himself to voice his desires for you. so the next time he saw you in the hallway, his eyes widened as he slowly approached your form, unaware that he was behind you. könig tried to open his mouth to say something - anything - but his mouth went dry and his throat tightened. so instead, he decided to gently cup your waist as you walked past, and went right towards his room. you smiled to yourself and followed him. könig was grateful that no words were needed between you two.

but despite how much he loved being able to be so close to you, to touch you, to be inside you, he could never allow himself to get too close. könig would've rather slit his own wrist than kiss your glossy, warm lips. you were a succubus, he was convinced. if his lips touched yours, he would have been yours forever. and that was something he could not have, no, not with how his hatred for you still lingered in the back of his mind. but the way you'd look sad about his lips never touching yours would make his heart twitch, just a little. some nights könig was so desperate to feel your skin on his tongue that he would gently lick your neck or your breasts, just to get a taste. but könig was used to living without the things he wanted.

there were many nights when könig was too deep within his darkness to reach out to you. he couldn't bring you down into his self-loathing spiral, or show you his weaknesses. on the nights he walked by you without even acknowledging your existence, he simply couldn't bring himself to look at you. if he did, he knew he would budge instantly and gently touch your waist once again so he could take solace in your warm, soft walls. but no, he would rather drown himself in the abyss of his heart than bring you down with him. you had things to live for: friends, family, incredible skill. but könig only had his guns, knives, and a large hand to wrap around his aching length. he never slept with another woman on base. but you were not to know that.

even more so, könig took to the box of condoms like a lifeline. if he kissed you, you'd have his soul. but if he allowed his cock to be fully surrounded by your warm, wet walls? no, no. you would've tied him to you for eternity. that was something that könig could not have, no matter how much he wanted it. he always made sure that condom was on perfectly, making sure that not a single inch of the skin of his cock ever completely touched your walls. even when he would tease the tip of his cock on your clit, there was a layer of thin plastic separating you. (he just loved the way you would gasp and blush when he did that). könig would never allow himself to truly take absolute pleasure in you, no matter how badly he just wanted to fill your womb entirely with him when your legs were pried open perfectly against his broad shoulders, with his sweaty forehead pressing into the mattress.

but as your relationship - if it could be called that - went on, könig realized that he never hated you. he only hated himself for never being able to be the person he wanted to be. you were everything, and he was nothing. you were caring, friendly, warm. but he saw himself as distant, cold, and aloof. sunshine could never reach the deepest, darkest caves under the earth, he thought. what could könig even say to you now, after you two had been with each other time and time again? what could he possibly say to the woman who unknowingly ripped apart old wounds he thought he had stitched? what could he say to the woman who achieved everything he could not? what could he say to the only woman who had ever shown him kindness, the only woman to have ever let him touch her, hold her, fuck her? so, könig opted to only ever say things to you that were necessary to work with you. he could never treat you poorly, not after the way you unknowingly healed the very wounds you created for him, not after the way you welcomed him into your body like he was an extension of yourself.

it was easier for könig to pretend that you weren't somewhat emotionally dependent on him. he could never pluck the flower whose roots were shallow. he was a monster enough as it is, but to just trample and rip up an innocent and beautiful thing? even he couldn't bring himself to do that. so, könig tried to water you in the only way he knew how, but he guarded his life-giving waters from your fertile womb, and only ever teased you with the nutrients you needed. it was enough to make you come back for more whenever he asked for it, but he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of you, too much. könig wanted to see you grow and blossom, not to be the one to dry you out and wither you.

so könig chose to edge you with his affection whenever he chose, and hoped that you would understand. he hoped that you wouldn't grow tired of the balm he offered you on the nights that he was able to crawl out of himself; the balm that was covered in blood and semen and tears.

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greenandsorrow · 9 months

Text

"Boytoy"

WARNINGS; 18+, shameless smut, ken x fem!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, praise k!nk, size k!nk, virgin!ken, switch!reader, sub!ken, dom!ken, the plot doesn't connect with the movie, kinda slow burn, grammar mistakes

Part 4

"i had a vision, a vision of my nails in the kitchen scratching counter tops..."

~stargirl interlude, the weeknd / lana del rey~

Ken's and y/n's desire is deepening, darkening the same way the night does outside of the apartment. They're standing so close to each other in the centre of the tiny kitchen, the lights low, making the shadows longer and dreamier all around them and softening their features. The atmosphere is electric to say the least.

Ken's pov;

The confusion from earlier is subsiding his arousal (but not for long). You see, Ken has almost lost all the courage and confidence he had gained after their last... misadventure.

Mostly, he hates how naive he still appears when it comes to the real world, to y/n's world. In addition, that man's advances towards y/n had seemed way too bold to Ken and he secretly envied the guy for it. He wishes he could act that "authoritative" (if that was the correct term) around his girlfriend (and not turn into a stammering and blushing mess).

But then again, y/n had assured him she didn't have any emotions for the human. Would it be too much to ask her again? Just to be sure. Would it push her away?

Ken is wanton for her touch, his body physically aching to be caressed, admired and even used by his sweet girl. He really adores her apart from, you know, physically craving her.

She's standing in front of him, barely reaching his broad chest, but somehow she is no less intimidating (at least to him). Her paralyzing gaze is scanning every inch of his body. When she reaches his eyes, which are expressing so many different emotions, her gaze softens. Ken swears she saw her nod, reassuringly, making his doubts vanish -at least a good chunk of them-.

The words are out before he has time to decide if they are the right ones, his mind giving in to the heat between his legs.

"I too can prove you are the only one."

It sounded harsh, breaking the silence but y/n doesn't seem to object to the idea. (These random bursts of confidence from Ken make her heart flutter in her chest.)

Y/n's pov:

Simultaneously, y/n's previous fear of people finding out about her toy-boyfriend has vanished.

She also can't help but notice the change in Ken's body language. He seems rigid, but expecting, definitely unprepared for the pleasure he's about to experience.

Y/n has already explained to Ken the basics of the reproductive system and he'd been profoundly scandalised about how making babies is supposed to also feel so good. But then again, the blowjob he had anxiously received from her, had hopefully made him understand what she meant. (He had even seemed surprised by his own cum.)

Her skin is prickling with heat at the way Ken's aqua blue eyes are dancing over her silhouette. All that heat is going straight to her core and even the air around her feels hotter on her skin.

It's also the first time Ken's seeing her with actual clothes on -and not pyjamas-. Y/n is wearing jeans that hug her hips tightly and a sage green, crop top.

When she hears Ken's oddly challenging words, she raises an eyebrow, a wicked smile forming on her lip-glossed lips.

Y/n gets on her tiptoes so that she can have access to his (unfairly handsome) face, teasing him but never connecting her lips with his. Just feeling his hot breath on her face drives her insane with want! (She has never been more turned on by a man before)

Y/n palms the bulge -that is now all too obvious- in his light washed jeans while maintaining eye contact with -a too entranced to say anything- Ken. The low groans that are coming from deep in his chest make her impatient (but she knows better, she's going to take her sweet time).

Ken is flushed once again, putty in her hands. His hands are fumbling with the ends of his jacket and his chest is heaving with swallow breaths, but he manages to not break eye contact.

"Ken, luv, you can touch me you know."

"Mmhmm", his answer turns into a whimper as he feels y/n unbuttoning his jeans.

While she's struggling with the zipper of his pants (his cock fully engorged in them), Ken attempts to make his hands useful, even if he is still feeling shy. He's always been in awe of y/n's curves, so he reaches for her outer thighs, (finally, he thinks) cupping them with his big palms and pressing his fingers into them, kneeding them. Ken's curiosity, as he's exploring y/n's hips, expands and he moves his hands on her backside, feeling his dick throb when he gives her round ass a squeeze (which causes y/n to moan lowly in return).

Y/n has managed to unzip Ken's jeans and she's now taking a step back.

"Ken, undress me Ken, please..."

Ken is at a loss for a second, but thanks to her slightly begging tone, he discovers he always wanted to do this.

He takes a deep breath, collecting some courage. He wants to show y/n that he is better than her male "friend", that he can do anything she wants.

Firstly, he takes off his own clothes, -shoes, jacket and jeans- (keeping only his boxers on). All the while y/n has started playing with her breasts while looking at him like he's God. That alone, makes Ken go to her and claim her mouth in a forceful kiss (there it is, a burst of confidence!)

She melts in the kiss, they both do.

Still, his hands are trembling when he takes hold of her top, almost smiling at how small it is (he could even use it as a bandana). Her bra is next. That makes Ken hesitate, not only because he has no idea how this piece of clothing works, but because her skin there seems so soft and he desperately wants to touch it. He also wants to touch her collarbones, her thin neck, her delicate arms...

"Someone's getting distracted"

"No! No, I-

You're beautiful, y/n"

She can't help but giggle. Ken loves that girly giggle of hers, he always gets butterflies from hearing it. He doesn't know how or why but he leans down and presses a chaste kiss on her -slightly sweaty- forehead. Ken then rests his own forehead against hers. The silence is comforting, tender almost.

When he pulls away, y/n is smiling at him, both of them feeling more comfortable now, ready to get more intimate together than ever before.

Y/n takes Ken's hands and guides them to her back, helping him to undo her bra. She then discards it on the floor.

Ken gasps at the sight of y/n's breasts.

It's not just the fact that he had never seen a woman's breasts before, it's the fact that all this beauty is his. Don't get me wrong, unlike many other men, Ken doesn't think he owns his girlfriend. He simply admires the way, he has the privilege of being able to see and touch y/n, in her most vulnerable. His privilege on her breasts.

He's trying to tell her something, maybe a compliment or ask for her consent. But he's breathless.

All the while, y/n has grown so hot and is so lost in the lust she feels for Ken, that she gets off her jeans on her own, discarding them on the floor. She's about to take off her panties, but that seems to snap Ken out of it.

"No, no, no y/n! I want to do it."

"Well, I want you to do it too."

She then starts taking steps backwards, retrieving towards the kitchen counter.

Ken, on the other hand, is walking forward, like a predator stalking his prey (unbeknownst to him of course).

When her bare back meets the cold counter y/n's breath hitches in her throat. Before she has time to react, Ken is towering over her, hands on her thighs, but this time it feels different.

Skin on skin. The shivers down her spine don't seem to stop, her pussy aching for attention and Ken's hard-on pressing against her lower stomach doesn't help much.

"Ah- Ken, I need you" y/n moans, hands blindly gripping his mascular biceps, nails pressing into his skin.

She doesn't want him, she NEEDS him.

"What, what am I supposed to do? Y/n, we're gonna have sex, right?!"

His voice sounds unstable, his breathing loud. Is he anxious or as lost in his desire as her? Probably both.

Y/n is about to brace herself on the counter, but Ken, catching the motion, helps her up by lifting her from the waist. His hands completely encircle her torso and they're unbelievably warm. More shivers, another moan from y/n.

She looks deeply into his eyes. This is important. This, right now, is a big step, especially for Ken. He's eager for her but still confused about pleasure. This time giving it.

Y/n calms down her breathing as best as she can. Resting her hands on Ken's chest, soothing him, she is ready to answer.

"Yes baby we are. Are you okay with this?"

He places his own hands on top of hers.

"Of course I am y/n. I just...you, can you show me how it's done? We need a bed, don't we?"

"Not yet -the bed-, I- I want to show you something else Ken, from what I was telling you last time."

Ken smiles confidently.

He knows that stuff, y/n had taught him what her own sex looks like. He's aware of the placement of the clit and of the entrance, where the penetration also happens.

"I know what you mean y/n. Look, I want to make you feel good, I owe you that one."

He was referring to the oral.

"Okay then", she presses a kiss on his chest.

Y/n adjusts her position on the counter, so that Ken can have better access to her pussy.

After that, she guides Ken's hand where she needs him most. Ken's touch is gentle, like he's afraid he'll hurt her. He rubs her on top of her underwear with his thumb, experimently. The friction is making her moan. Ken is transfixed from the warmth that's spilling out of her core, he needs to see her.

Taking hold of both sides of the panties Ken guides them down to y/n's ankles, where they fall to the floor, along with the rest of their clothes.

Y/n is fighting back the urge to squeeze her thighs together, the air harsh against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Ken is staring at her pussy so intensely, she begins to feel self conscious. She's probably blushing.

"Ken?", her voice comes meek in her own ears, so weak.

"Now, now I touch you, right?

"Yeah, should I show you how?"

"No I can do it. I can also use my mouth, like you did, hm?"

"That's right"

While they speak Ken lowers himself, looks up at y/n, looking so damn hot panting and then looks at her folds, almost dripping. Ken has learnt that them being wet is a good sign.

He feels dizzy and so very unsure of his abilities at pleasing y/n. Fortunately, his instinct urges him to nuzzle her inner thighs with his face (and mouth) while keeping her legs open with both arms.

He's planting kisses on the soft flesh, attempts to nimble it and smiles when he hears a soft moan from above.

"Mmmm, Ken, yes, that's so good"

The praise keeps him going, gingerly covering every bit of flesh with open mouthed kisses.

At last, after some more teasing, he's face to face with the most breathtaking thing he's ever come across.

Ken takes one hand, one finger, pressing down on the centre of her swollen clit.

Y/n gasps and moans at the sudden touch.

Her thighs try to squeeze his head, but he can keep them open with ease (he kinda likes the idea of him being squeezed by her beautiful legs).

"Ken please"

"Was that the clit?"

"What? Oh yes, please, Ken"

Ken is getting focused now. His girlfriend needs him.

He trails a finger all over y/n's clit, getting used to the feeling, studying her expressions, deciding which parts feel the best for her.

He opens her legs a little more, so that her entrance can be better visible. Ken moans at how it seems to be contracting and extracting.

He's caressing all around the circle, mesmerized.

Y/n looks down at him, he's so focused, almost keeping his breath.

"Ken, touch both at the same time"

He nods, ready.

He draws circles with his thumb on her clit, while the other hand's index finger slowly slides into her.

The moans that escape y/n's mouth are the best sound Ken's ever heard. He needs to hear more. They mean he's doing a good job, they are a reward, a praise.

With clumsy hands, he continues doing the same pattern, trying to find a rhythm. Thumb pressing, rubbing and circling her clit, while a finger slides in and out of her.

"Faster"

And then "Please, oh- add another finger"

As he's sliding both fingers in, y/n's hand reaches for Ken's hair, using it to somehow ground herself. Ken's touch is heavenly to her, the groan caused by her grip on his hair vibrating in her pussy, and she mewls.

Ken's had enough, he presses a sloppy kiss on her clit and then another. He's soon feeling confident enough to suck at it, while still thrusting two fingers inside her.

His tongue is what makes her react the most. And so he ends up lapping it over her folds.

She lets out a sound like sobbing, her hips trembling.

"Did I hurt you?!"

"Don't stop, Ken pleaseeee"

"Are you crying, y/n-"

"Ken you're amazing, please..."

She must be feeling so good. Ken could do that for the whole night, if y/n asked him to.

A few moments later and Ken's movements are unrelenting, driving y/n closer and closer to her orgasm.

Her moans have become higher pitched and her legs are shaking, toes curling involuntarily, how can he be so perfect?

"Ken...Ken!

Ken, I- ahh-

Oh my- mhhhhmmmm, Ken! Ah!

Ken, oh yes Ken, don't stop yes!"

Ken is so lost in the feeling of her muscles flexing against his fingers, the smell of her so intoxicating to him and all the praises coming from y/n's trembling voice... it's a miracle he doesn't come in his boxers right then and there.

Y/n feels the knot in her stomach ready to snap. She curls her fingers in Ken's hair, letting out the most sinful of sounds. Now, incapable of forming coherent sentences, she just cries out, her boyfriend's name being the only thing she can grasp on to.

And just like that, with another thrust of Ken's fingers, her orgasm hits her, shaking her whole. Her back arches, allowing Ken to hit THE spot a few times.

Ken is filled with pride, the reactions he managed to get out of y/n forever priceless.

She grips his wrist to show him that was more than enough. He removes his hand, but licks her one more time, from her dripping entrance to her clit, tasting her juices, feeling her tremble and mumble his name, all because of his touch.

Y/n's body finally relaxes. She feels so exhausted, but also content.

In Ken's eyes, she's shining like the moon, gleaming, maddeningly beautiful.

But truth be told, Ken was worried about all those sounds she made at the end, was he hurting her?

He asked her that much, about the almost screaming part.

"Oh my sweet boy! Sure they were screams but, happy ones!"

"So I made you 'happy scream'?", the playful tone in his voice is matching with the look of adoration he has on his face, as he stands up back to his full height.

He brings the two fingers he had used to his mouth and sucks at them.

Y/n simply stares at him, too stunned (but in a good way) to say anything.

Ken simply says, "You taste really good"

And he's speaking with such innocence it's hard to believe what he's referring to.

He takes both of her hands in his much bigger ones, studying how she regains her composure, her chest still heaving heavily, her cheeks like two apples.

"Ken you made me feel, probably the best I've ever felt!"

He chuckles, bashful once again.

"I'm glad you liked it y/n. I would do anything for you. I love you."

(Ken is obviously the type to say 'I love you' during sex and anything that has to do with it.)

Y/n doesn't get scared by the statement. She smiles, a big, tired one.

"I love you more, Kenneth"

He leans in, peppering her face with kisses.

"No, I, love you more"

"Nah, I do"

"Noooo, I love you more"

"I lo-", y/n's sentence is cut short as she yelps.

Ken has picked her up, bridal style, without any warning and he is now carrying her to her bed.

He places her down slowly, horizontally, in the middle of the bed.

Ken then takes a few moments (maybe whole minutes) just looking at y/n, memorizing every inch of her exposed body.

Y/n is laying on her back, completely limp as the mattress holds her. She feels so light, simply enjoying every minute of her afterglow. Ken's presence isn't threatening, but safe, Ken is her safe place.

"Hey, sweetheart, come join me", she pats the empty space next to her.

He joins her, reluctantly, his movements stiff all of a sudden. Ken loves how calm and in peace y/n seems to be and he doesn't want to bother her with...his situation.

What I'm saying is, his dick is still in his boxers -that are wet with tons of precum-, rock hard and aching, asking for attention and twitching when y/n simply presses a kiss on his neck.

"Ken, lovee..." she purrs at him, turning her body so that she can face him, resting her head on one hand, cupping his face with the other.

Ken leans into her touch and closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. When he reopens them, his eyes are pleading her silently, like he's a puppy desperate for a treat.

It's time for y/n to take the lead for one more time. She lets the hand on Ken's cheek fall, lazily trailing over his chest, drawing some random shapes, moving lower, teasing his abs, the muscles tensing where she touches them, then his lower abdomen, her touch so gentle it almost tickles him.

She's taking so long and Ken has been waiting for too much time (all day in Barbieland, while her friends were here and then when he was pleasing her). He can't stand it anymore, it's too much to handle. He almost cries out, ready to beg her to finally give him what he's so desperately craving. He exhales deeply, grabbing her wrist, firmly but without hurting her.

"Y/n- I can't-... Please, I can't..."

Y/n's other hand starts to massage his (swollen by now) balls.

Ken growls deeply, back arching, squeezing her wrist enough to leave his fingertips printed there.

His whole body seems to be flushed and he has unconsciously begun rocking his hips forward, an attempt to feel some sort of relief.

"Ken, should we stop?", y/n is genuinely worried. (Ken's face is a deep red and he whimpers like he's being fucked already)

"N- no, OH Y/N PLEASE

touch me, I can't- can't breath...mhmmmmm"

He lets a sound like crying, his head falling back as y/n finally takes hold of his cock. His underwear flying in the air and out of sight.

She stays sitted beside him, muttering sweet nothings to him, trying to make sure he doesn't pass out.

Y/n starts giving Ken a handjob, but without much teasing since he's already so worked up.

As she pumps him, Ken can't stop moving. His head is thrown back as silent screams leave his lips, eyes squeezed. Ken's left hand is holding onto y/n's booty, like he's scared of all the pleasure shooting through his body.

More. More. More. He feels like he's gonna -literally- explode.

She stops. The whimper Ken voices is enough to make her all wet for the second time tonight. (And also loud enough to wake up the neighbors.)

"Why, why did you stop?", Ken almost breathes out the words instead of speaking them. He even looks offended that y/n stopped, still holding onto her thigh.

"'Cause I have an idea"

Silence.

"Ken, we can still orgasm together, if we...have sex."

Ken immediately sits up, looking incredulously at his beloved girlfriend.

"And what if I'm not good at it y/n?!"

"You've been so so good for me so far sweetie pie. We'll figure it out together, it's like I explained to you."

"Right"

Ken replays all that y/n has taught him. He is petrified, but the trust he has on y/n (and the need to finally orgasm himself) are enough motivation for him.

"Let me start"

She nods, sweat glistering skin, her y/h/c hair sticking on her face.

Ken is ready to make an impression. He's happy to see she is as destroyed and needy as he assumes, looks himself.

Grabbing her waist he brings y/n closer, kissing her without trying to make it clean or precise. And what he does next is a new to him. (aka burst of confidence)

Ken isn't content with JUST kissing her on the lips and he starts exploring the rest of her beautiful body, with his hot mouth.

He has been waiting for this, he has worked for this, he deserves this.

In a state of delirious trance, Ken licks, nimbles, sucks and bites y/n's body like he'll die if he stops.

First the column of her neck, second her collarbones and arms, all the way to each palm and back up. Her tits are being worshipped longer than the rest of her. Ken starts by giving them gentle squeezes, his palms able to fist them whole. Then (mimicking the movements he had performed while he was playing with her sex), he rubs the pads of his fingers on what he knows is called 'the nipples'. Y/n moans his name, scratching his back like a cat. Her nipples are darker after that, and harder too. Just like he did with her clit, he is now sucking at them, lapping his tongue against them, y/n shuddering at the sensation, too overwhelmed to say anything but faintly utter "...so good"

And we all know that's all Ken needs to hear.

Next is her stomach, an unexpectedly soft and smooth area that Ken appears to love as he kisses every centimetre of it. (Y/n's insecurities leaving her body along with the sweet sounds she's making for Ken)

He also mumbles his thoughts against her skin.

"You're so soft"

"Your smell's making me feel lightheaded"

"So beautiful, so gorgeous, thank you, I love you, I love you, I love you "

After spending some time on her thighs, leaving a trail of marks on them (his favourite part of y/n's masterpiece of a body), he's tempted to taste her juices again. However, he decides against it, both of them too tired to waste any more time on foreplay.

Ken climbs back up, supporting his body with his muscular arms as he's hovering above y/n.

"It's time"

Y/n captures his lips in a long kiss, while grabbing his dick, guiding it to her entrance. (There is no need to use protection, Ken's not meant to give baby dolls.)

The head of his cock is in contact with her pussy now, but not inside yet.

Y/n believes she'll die from all the anticipation, but she wants to make sure Ken's first time will be a good memory for him to recall and not an awkward mess.

His forehead is resting against hers.

"Ken?"

"Will I hurt you, when I push in?"

She plays with his hair, reassuringly.

"It's all gonna be happy screams"

Y/n can feel him smile. She really adores that dork.

They readjust their position a bit, so that they're holding hands. Fingers intertwined.

Oddly enough, Ken maintains eye contact as he very slowly pushes his length (quite long and thick too) inside her tight hole.

They simultaneously gasp at the sensation.

Ken grunts, going deeper and deeper, his entire body trembling on top y/n's smaller one.

He's forcing words out when there's no air for them.

"You okay?"

"Hell yeah"

And that's it, he's as deep inside her as it goes. His libido is taking over, but he tries to fight the urge, unsure of what he's supposed to do next. Ken's looking down at y/n, the blue almost entirely gone from his eyes.

Below him, y/n is experiencing new levels of being stretched out. She's gasping for air. If her pussy struggles to adjust to the feeling she pays no heed to it. She feels so full and so so so so good.

Y/n knows neither of them can last very long, their bodies being on edge for hours.

"Ken, Ken my baby, please!"

Her usually more composed self fails her. She's pleading Ken to use her for his own pleasure. Every nerve on her body is going crazy, she's almost shaking without Ken even having moved inside her.

"Please what?"

Ken's voice is so raw, almost demanding, his obedient and bashful self giving space for this new version of him.

"Please fuck me like you only can!"

(She's ashamed to sound like a whore but she needs him to start moving inside her.)

Ken growls at that, a sound that feels laboured (and sexy).

With their hands still clutching tightly, Ken pulls back, leaving only the head of his dick inside y/n, before pushing back in.

He moans loudly at the feeling. So does she.

He's not sure he can do it.

Ken's body feels like it's gonna collapse on y/n at any given moment, trembling like he's dying from cold weather, even though he is in so much heat his vision is blurring.

"Oh my God Ken! Do that again!"

He's sure he can do it.

For the next ten minutes or so, Ken is thrusting inside y/n. His pace is fast, showing just how needy he is.

For y/n, keeping her eyes open is becoming harder and harder. Ken's dick is hitting her g-spot frequently. All the moaning and crying out Ken's name are definitely going to leave her throat sore.

Ken is vocal as well. His moaning is loud and the whimpers always present. And how could they not be?

As he continues to thrust inside y/n's perfect hole, he feels the familiar sensation gathering at the pit of his stomach.

He's going to 'cum' very soon. He's proud he can understand his body's reactions, thanks to y/n's teaching.

Ken's head finds shelter in the crook of y/n's neck, as he tries to muffle a series of "Oh crap- oh crap- of crap- OH- shit- shit-"

He is being milked. The way his cock is being tightly squeezed by y/n's pussy making him see stars.

Y/n is also feeling a second orgasm rapidly building up inside her. The satisfaction that they're actually going to come together is surreal.

"Ken -ah- make me -ah- cum AH!"

Her precious Ken increases his speed. And just like that y/n loses control of her body, as she comes without warning all over his cock. Pathetic whines and Ken's name, her mantra.

The spasms that electroshock her body and the tight space that is y/n's pussy, are Ken's last straw.

"Y/n! Y/n it- it's happening...

Mhm, Augh-"

His hands abandon hers so that he can steady himself, as he comes at last, spilling it all deep inside y/n.

Y/s is there for him when this happens, she knows it must be so overwhelming for him, his whole body shaking (hers still spasming as he thrusts into her after her own orgasm).

"That's it sweetheart. Oh- that was perfect Ken, so perfect. It's alright, I told you you could do it"

Ken -finally- collapses on top of her. He's nuzzled up on y/n's breasts (the best pillow), arms around her torso, as she lovingly pets his upper back and arms, massaging them gently.

They stay like that for a good while, breathing going back to normal. Ken's cock softens again, leaving y/n's warmth when he changes his position.

Y/n breaks the comfortable silence.

"We should go get cleaned up"

"I love you"

"I know"

"And you're not gonna say it back?"

"Only if you get your handsome body off me"

"But I've found the perfect position to sleep in"

"Ken, for God's sake, you'll squeeze me to death"

"Fine..."

He gets off her and off the bed, making dramatic noises. Y/n mimics his actions seconds after him.

They end up showering together, giggling and having fun like little kids.

After a failed attempt from Ken to wash y/n's hair, after the "I love you" y/n owned him for not letting her suffocate beneath him and after getting dry and into clean clothes they are both too exhausted to do anything else.

They just get comfy under the covers, this time Ken being used as a pillow. Y/n is laying her head on his chest, just where his heart is, Ken's heartbeat lulling her into a deep sleep. Our lucky Ken, has his arms wrapped around y/n's frame, nuzzling the top of her head, inhaling the flowery scent of her shampoo, feeling his eyelids getting heavier.

He knows that he won't be waking up next to her in the morning, but he's immune to the disappointment for now.

He would leave Barbieland forever if that meant he could always be by y/n's side. But that's a thought for another time.

notes~~

THE END!!!

Bye for now ✨✨

I hope you had fun reading this shameless smut. I'm proud of it actually, bc I brought an original idea to the table with Boytoy. I'm sure there are grammar and spelling errors but it's okay. I can write a small epilogue, a happy ending if you will! (UPDATE; bonus part is out!!!!!)

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7-wonders · 7 months

Text

Never Been Kissed

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: Morpheus cannot possibly wait another moment to let you know how he feels about you. What happens when it appears that you don't reciprocate?

Word count: 2.0k

Author's note: Shitty summary, sorry, but you know the scene in Barbie (2023) where Ken goes to kiss Barbie after the party and she just stands there?

This one? Yeah I got it into my head that it would be funny if eternal drama queen Morpheus was in Ken's position.

Clueless!reader, innocent!reader. This is just a kinda stupid, goofy little fic, idk. If you liked it, I'd appreciate hearing from you! If you didn't like it, sound off as well! My haters are my motivators.

P.S. You might be saying "the Endless aren't allowed to love mortals it leads to their ruin!" And I say that this is my fic so I decide the rules. Buckle up babes.

Death would say that he is head over heels.

Desire would say that it is boringly predictable and far too soon.

Lucienne would not say anything, but she would give him that look over the top of her glasses, the one that says that he had better know what he is doing.

Matthew would say that he is down bad, which is apparently what the youth of today are saying.

They are all right, though Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, wishes they were not. Despite his very best efforts, he has fallen in love once more. With a mortal, a human—you.

Morpheus has never had much luck in love. Though there were a few occasions (very, very few) where it was not his fault, he is mature enough to understand that he has often been the cause of a relationship’s demise. He falls hard and fast, and he always has. That, combined with his…intensity, is what he believes to doom him each and every time. Perhaps he gives too much of himself to those who don’t deserve it; perhaps he shows his hand too quickly.

But you, he knows, are different. You won’t hurt him, not in the way that others have. You won’t take him for granted.

Tonight, he has decided that he will finally confess to you his affections. He will bare his realm to you, the parts that no normal dreamer will ever get to see, and hope that you understand that this is akin to him baring his very soul. After all, he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him.

But where to take you? What to show you? Morpheus agonized over these questions for far longer than he would care to admit. Although he hoped to be able to accompany you to the farthest reaches of his realm (a tall task, considering said realm was infinite), to explore so much of the Dreaming with you that he rediscovered lands he had long forgotten about, this first foray needed to be perfect. He needed something special, something that conveyed to you the depth of his feelings.

He decided to start with something simple that most people would like to see: Athens, and specifically the Acropolis, as it was in its glory days. For all of the animosity Morpheus felt towards the Greek pantheon, he had to admit that they, and their worshippers, contributed much to society and humanity as a whole. Next was a glimmering lake that was actually the moon’s surface, followed by a glen in what could be the Scottish highlands populated by dragons—he found himself particularly pleased by your stunned awe upon seeing the mythical creatures.

The penultimate stop was one that Morpheus took great pride in thinking up, for he knew that it would be your favorite. A visit to a fae village, exiled by Titania and given sanctuary in the Dreaming (solely due to Morpheus’s dislike of their monarch), enjoying a Harvest celebration. They were harmless creatures in the Dreaming, devoid of any of the power that fae normally possessed, so Morpheus did not feel any hesitation in allowing you to explore the festivities. Above all else, the fae love a good party, so it was not surprising when a few invited you to join them in dancing, pulling you along with them until you were spinning and twirling as though you had always known the fae folk dance. You reached for him, mouthing “Come dance with me!” but he gently rebuffed you with a shake of his head and a smile, happy to simply watch the way you moved, with a grin on your face and boisterous laughter sounding just as lovely as the music playing.

What you had referred to as a “behind-the-scenes tour” ends in his private gardens, long a place of solace for him. Your excitement, your joy, fuels him. It’s palpable and intoxicating, and Morpheus wishes he could bottle it and keep it with him forever to give him just a hint of this feeling whenever he wants.

“This is…amazing. Your realm is amazing,” you gush, your eyes sparkling. “I feel like that word is such an understatement for what I’m trying to describe, but it’s the only one that comes to mind right now.”

“It pleases me to hear you think so.”

“Thank you for this. For trusting me,” you say sincerely.

Morpheus was right, you do understand the gift that this experience was meant to be. It makes the space in his chest cavity, where his heart would be if he allowed this form to have one, feel warm. It is only the the very least I could, no, would give you, he thinks.

You’re smiling so sweetly at him, the moon shining down like a spotlight and making you look the closest to holy that Morpheus will ever get. This is it, he realizes. This is the moment where he will tell you of his love for you, and where you will then reciprocate. This is the moment that he will commit to memory for the rest of eternity until his sister locks up the universe behind her. This is the moment that you become his, and he yours.

There is so much that Morpheus wants to say to you, yet he knows not where to begin. An unfamiliar feeling swells within him—nervousness. What if he says the wrong thing, what if he scares you off with his intensity before he can truly say what he wants to say? No, best to show you how he feels before telling you, that way there is no doubt. With that, Morpheus leans in towards you and closes his eyes, waiting to feel his lips on yours.

That feeling does not come, and Morpheus belatedly realizes after a few moments that it will not come. When he opens his eyes and looks at you once more, you’re still standing in the same position that you were, still smiling, albeit looking a bit more confused

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

All of Morpheus’s plans, his hopes and…dreams, for lack of a better term, come crashing down around him. So you’ve rejected him, then. He has laid his heart bare for you, shown you parts of his realm that no other mortal has been lucky enough to see, and you’ve turned him down. This, he muses, is his fatal flaw. Mentally, he had already declared you his, crowned you his consort, and created an entire life with you.

But the Lord of Dreams should know better than anyone that it does no good to dwell on dreams, for they are nothing but fantasy and can lead only to heartbreak.

“It appears that I was wrong in thinking that my feelings were reciprocated,” he says lowly, looking out at a carefully cultivated rose bush that is rapidly wilting. An icy wind begins to whip up, stripping the bush of its dead petals and sending them swirling off into the night.

Shock, raw and unfiltered, crosses your face. “Oh! You wanted…to kiss me?”

Morpheus pauses at this odd question, for he did not think you to be so obtuse. Did he not make it obvious that that was what he was intending? Are you attempting to shame him further? “Yes? I apologize, since you have made clear that you do not harbor the same affection for me as I do for you.” He has to grit his teeth to keep from spewing anything more vicious, though lightning cracks across the sky and says what he cannot.

“No! I mean yes. I mean–” You take a breath and shake your head as though you’re trying to physically clear your thoughts. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never…been kissed. Before.”

The bad weather, which had been threatening since the moment he realized that he was wrong and tried desperately to hide the devastation that was threatening to overtake him, dies down so suddenly that it could have been turned off by some unseen entity hitting a switch.

“What.” It is certainly not proper of Morpheus to sound so shocked, especially when it’s regarding a topic that you are so clearly embarrassed about. But he simply cannot believe that someone like you, someone so delightful and open, so empathetic and, well, attractive, has never experienced intimacy from another before.

“I know, it’s super lame. People just…haven’t ever liked me in that way?” You shrug and add, “Just haven’t found the right person yet,” in a way that sounds so self-deprecating that it must be a line you’ve heard many times before.

“So you have never…”

You shake your head and look away in embarrassment. “No hand holding, no kissing, no dating. Nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”

It goes unsaid what else you haven’t done if those simple, basic acts of romance have been devoid from your life. From the way you brace yourself, you’re obviously expecting him to react negatively to the news, and he assumes that this is from experience. Instead, Morpheus finds that he does not mind in the slightest. No, this piece of information is…rather titillating, actually.

(Perhaps it’s the fact that this means you’re largely untouched by anyone, but specifically mortals, whom Morpheus has seen the worst of for over a hundred years. The filth of humanity has yet to mar you in such an intimate manner. Prior to today, Morpheus didn’t think that he had an innocence kink. Now? He’s starting to see why the gods and goddesses of old so favored virgins.)

He files this revelation away to be revisited later, when he can hope to be in complete control of his emotions and not have them divided by having the object of his affection standing right in front of him.

“I do not find myself disappointed,” he says.

Your eyes meet his once more, and he can see the hope you hold. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “It is not your fault that others have failed to properly see the magnificence standing before them.”

‘Magnificent’ does not even come close to doing any justice in describing you, Morpheus feels, but it will do for now.

“Morpheus,” you admonish half-heartedly and bashfully. You are obviously not used to receiving such compliments, which is precisely why Morpheus is now determined to make sure that you shall never go a day without hearing one.

“Would you be interested in such things with me?” Things, of course, being the list of activities you have never partaken in.

Slowly, a smile spreads on your face. “Really? You like me like that?”

Your naïvete is truly endearing. “I do. Am I correct in hoping that you feel the same?”

“Yeah. You’d be correct.”

“Then might I bestow upon you your first kiss?”

Somehow, your smile widens, and you nod. “I’d like that.”

Morpheus again leans towards you, but this time, his actions are reciprocated. Your lips against his are soft and a little clumsy against his, which is to be expected from someone who has absolutely no experience. The entire time, he can feel the way that you’re trying, and failing, to keep yourself from smiling.

It is by no means the best kiss that Morpheus has ever had. Yet, it will likely remain one of his most fond memories of such an action.

When you pull away, you’re giggling almost giddily. “That was really good,” you praise, as though discussing a book or a meal. It’s simultaneously not at all and exactly what Morpheus was expecting from you, and he can practically feel himself falling further for you.

Tonight will not be the night that he espouses his love for you. He will not whisper promises of the universe against your skin, and he will not whisk you away to his chambers so that he may properly ravish you. Instead, this relationship will be…slow. Although that is not something that Morpheus is used to, something that he’s familiar with, he finds that he is alright with the concept of taking things slow, so long as it is with you.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

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shima-draws · 3 months

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Well since the Mochi Mayhem DLC out. How did that go when it came to the Kieran Orgepon AU. Heck what about Indigo Disk since things are bound to go differently there?

HONESTLY probably not that different from canon except Kieran teams up with Juliana to absolutely whoop Pecharunt's ass LMAO

Originally I thought that the Lousy Three had been manipulated into working under Pecharunt (I mean they still kinda were? Technically?) but then I read up on their lore and realized that Pecharunt basically took their desires and made them a reality, so it was more of an even trade than anything. The trio got to power up and achieved what was previously impossible for them, and Pecharunt got their loyalty and could command them as it wished. Part of me wanted an arc where after defeating them they are released from Pecharunt's control and could then apologize and reconcile with Ogerpon, but I really think they did a lot of what they did out of free will. So they're still assholes lol

Anyway as for Mochi Mayhem, Kieran would most likely recognize Pecharunt right from the start and would be squaring the HELL up. Pecharunt manages to get a shot at Carmine and flees (like a COWARD!!) so Kieran calls up Juliana and asks her for help. Which starts the impromptu visit to Kitakami with Arven, Penny and Nemona tagging along ;)

Juliana's never seen her friend so angry before so she realizes this is probably smth important. Cue the trauma arc and Kieran revealing Pecharunt had been behind everything regarding his masks and the Lousy Three terrorizing him all those years ago. (He didn't recognize Pecharunt in its dormant form, but once it awakens he sees it and goes !!! >:0)

At first Juliana's a bit hesitant but once she hears what Pecharunt did she's just as angry as Kieran, if not angrier. The Paldea trio are like WHAT is going on rn why are you two so fired up. And then what commences is the most epic beatdown in history. (And is also pretty cathartic for Kieran, too, finally able to vent out all his anger at the mastermind of the whole situation.)

Juliana probably catches it to keep it under control, but as for what they decide to do with it after...who knows. I feel like Pecharunt has always been intentionally malicious, so training it to not be that way would be difficult, not to mention how uncomfortable Kieran would be with the whole situation. Idk it could go either way!

As for the Indigo Disk--hmm. I'll have to think on that one a bit more. It'd definitely be different since Kieran was never a trainer to begin with, so he's not the BB Academy champion. And for conflict, I'll probably ramp up Briar's obsession with Terapagos to make it a bit more spicy, bc I felt that her arc was too underwhelming. Make her the real villain, and make her even more unhinged when she finds out about Kieran >:)

#Kieranpon AU #Kieran #Pokemon Kieran #Ogerpon #Pecharunt #Pokemon #Pokemon SV #Mochi Mayhem #The Indigo Disk #Pokemon DLC #Shima answers questions #Shima's AUs

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jinkiezzsstuff · 1 month

Note

I absolutely loved the Emily and Charlie ideas you wrote so I was hoping to request another Charlie x male reader with some smut (but not the main focus). Idea being everyone going out for an evening with Charlie staying at the hotel to work, secretly wanting some company but telling everyone to have fun anyway. Reader didn't go out and found her later in the evening (maybe can tell how she's feeling) so offers some company/someone to cuddle. The main smut I'd like to include would be her leaving some scratch or kiss marks and her being quite touchy/hands on.

I’m so glad you enjoyed the others teehee i tried my best with this so i hope you enjoy it but im not too happy with how it turned out tbh, idk why, i guess it could be because i didn’t feel like during the smut scenes i did charlie justice, lmk what you think.

Charlie x male!reader

After Party

warnings: creampie, biting, scratching, kinda rushed smut, angsty charlie, possibly ooc charlie but i can’t tell, charlie n vaggie are friends, im not sure if there’s anything else, oh swearing, NOT PROOFREAD beware of errors.

word count: 2K

Charlie was tired. Between her father disbelieving in her, Alastor picking a fight with him, the failed meeting with Adam, and finding out Vaggie was an angel? She was over and exhausted. She tried to keep up her mood but she just couldn’t stop the spiralling thought process of handling everything on her own. It seemed like every step forward she had to take four steps back, nobody believed or respected her.

“Cmon, we needa little par-tay.” Angel whined pushing himself over the back of the couch dramatically. Charlie hummed, barely listening as the crowd of sinners lingered in the little living room-like area. “We don’t need anymore fuckin parties, spider.” Husk muttered before taking a big swig of his drink. “I don’t know, I think a little bit of recreational activity could really brighten the spirits!” Alastor exclaimed, and as much as Charlie would like to join the fun, if she didn’t finish up the work she had she knew it would only stress her out further, but she knew the others worked hard too and deserved a little treat.

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out some cash and beckoned over Alastor. “Here, why don’t you take everyone out to relax?” She said softly, despite her desire for company and hope that one of the few would stay back to assist. “Aren’tcha comin’ toots?” Angel who jumped up the moment Charlie pulled out money asked, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. “Oh no, i’ve got sooo much to do here, you guys go on without me! Bond a little!” She smiled as brightly as she could, although anyone with a keen eye could tell it was forced. In the back of her mind she was hoping for more punch back, more of her friends to beg her to come out with them, but instead they shrugged her off and left rather quickly.

Sighing Charlie rung her hands together and walked up the stairs slowly, vacant and alone, the hotel now seemed so eerie. She made her way to an office one that had been used by the whole team she had, so herself, Vaggie and Alastor. She plopped herself lazily on the ripped leather office chair, air slowly escaping the cheap foam as she did. Charlie couldn’t help the bitter feelings stirring around in her; she was always happy to help her friends and wanted them to have fun and relax, she just wished maybe they cared a little more about her? It was a confusing sensation, she knew Vaggie cared, but at times she felt more like a personal body guard rather than friend, and Alastor, she knew deep down, didn’t actually care.

Opening her phone she decided to try and ease her mind before sorting out the paperwork she had piling, unfortunately the universe wasn’t kind to her. Opening Sinstagram the first sight she was greeted with was Angels varying posts and stories which included all the crew members piled into a booth enjoying their drink of choice. It made a scorned yucky feeling of jealousy tangle within her stomach. Groaning she pulled open a drawer and stuck her phone in it, slamming it shut after. “It’s better to just work.” The princess mumble pulling the first stack of papers near her; the billing’s for their failed comercial.

After an hour of word Charlie sat back in her seat and messaged her sore neck. Pulling her phone from the drawer she checked the time. 23:48. Having no idea when the others would get back, she shuffled from the office to the second story balcony for some air. “Oh sorry I didn’t know you were here!” Charlie exclaimed, seeing you leant over the balcony railing. Looking over your shoulder you gave the little devil a warm smile. “You can join.” You say beckoning her forward, with a sigh and a forced smile Charlie came up alongside you, mimicking your stance. “What’re you still doing here?” Charlie questioned eyeing you from her peripheral. Your brow quirked and your face turned to confusion, with a quick hum you replied. “Just relaxing..?” The statement came out uncertain and wobbly, but you weren’t quite sure what she meant.

“No, i mean why didn’t you go out with the others?” Your head tilted back as you let out an ‘ah’, now understanding what she meant. “I just, well, this is the only time i get free yknow, always gotta be doing something so it’s nice to be alone, but i also want to have fun with them, but that drains me yknow?” Charlie quickly nodded her head at that completely understanding where you were coming from. “Yeah i know what you mean. I wish somebody stayed back with me.” Nudging yourself lightly into her, she met your eyes with curiosity floating in her own. “Well I stayed back, why don’t we relax together?” You suggest warmly, smiling fondly down at her. Charlie momentarily stuttered, blushing at the way her mind wandered to naughty places.

“Ahem, uh, sure! Yes! Let’s do that!” The princess fumbled, pushing herself away from your hold. You could tell she was flustered as she walked off leading you to whatever part of the hotel she’d choose to relax in, you felt a little voice in the back of your head egging you on to tease her, and who were you to deny your great mind. “Alrighty this it my room! Uhhh, why don’t we watch a movie or something..?” Charlie trailed off leading you into her bedroom.

You took a quick look around enjoying the aesthetic her room held. Charlie kicked her shoes off and pulled her jacket from her shoulders. “You can lounge on the bed if you want, i totally don’t mind!” You grinned and got onto the bed, watching as she frantically ran around “Calm down hun, you look real stressed.” You urged her frantic pacing causing loose hairs to tangle and fly out from her ponytail. “Ugh, i know!” Sighing she finally plopped on the bed beside you and laid back hands folded on her stomach and eyes closed. Leaning over slightly to look down on her, you observed her somewhat relaxed face as you watched her slow her breathing down. Assumably trying to cease the slow crawling panic that was clawing at her. “It may be a little forward but I heard compression and hugs can help stress, you wanna cuddle or some shit?” Your voice came out slightly tight a little unsure of how to go about the request. Charlie’s eyes fluttered opened and blinked toward you, after a moment of silent contemplation Charlie sighed happily opening her arms. With a huff and a smile you scooted down, wrapping your arms around her while laying beside her.

She scooted up into your side, her right hand sliding up your chest and around your shoulder. It sent shivers down your spine, and blood straight to your dick, embarrassingly so. Ignoring the sensation, your hand gently traced shapes into Charlie’s side where your arm was placed. Charlie’s head slowly lifted and shifted from the bed to your chest, tucking herself under your chin. Her hair tickled at your nose and chin, you could smell her shampoo and the perfume she’d used. You tightened your grip subtly, enjoying the warmth she let off, and with a hum she swung one of her legs over your hips, twisting her body entirely against you.

You took a deep breath attempting to calm your heart and the tightening sensation in your pants. Like the devil spawn she is, Charlie began tracing your chest, flattening her palm against your chest and trailing down from your neck, to the hem of your jeans, and back up to your neck again. Taking a deep breath you brought your hand up to you with her hair in attempts to distract you.

“Thanks for this.” She mumbled nuzzling her face further into your chest. You hummed eyes lazily dancing around shapes your eyes made up on the canopy above. “Any time.” You replied after a moment. The two of you laid there silently, softly the two of you let your hands drift across eachother innocently. It wasn’t until charlie’s hand ducted under your shirt to touch your bare chest that the air in the room got thick and heated. Breath hitching you zeroed in on her claws softly scratching down your chest. “Charlie,” You warned as her claw nicked the waistband of your jeans. Charlie knew good and well what she was doing, could you blame her? You’ve always been so attentive to her feelings and emotional state, the first to check on her after a stressful situation and give her the best advice you could.

With sudden need shooting through Charlie she straddled your waist bracing herself against your chest. Your hands reflexively went to her hips, eyes shooting up to meet her own attempting to figure out what the hell she was doing. She traced her claws down your tshirt covered chest, and when she made it to the bottom her hands wiggled underneath the fabric to paw at your warm skin. As she did you traced circles on her hips, and quirked a questioning brow at her. “Whatcha up to princess?” Charlie smiled shyly, trying to hide her face in her shoulder. “I just want to repay you for your kindness towards me.”

Your face twisted with worry, abruptly you sat up, making her gasp and tucked your hands behind her back to keep her from falling. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me,” You quickly say, however Charlie pushed you back down, shushing you as she did. “It’s more then just that, i think you know they though. Let’s relax, desttress.” With that being said, you tossed aside your tshirt while Charlie eagerly undid your pants, hands shaking as she did. Your hands decided not to diddly saddle and undo her pants simultaneously, needing to feel her speedily.

You were already achingly hard, precum dripping down your shaft as Charlie shakily gripped you giving your head a soft squeeze. Pulling her hand away Charlie kicked off the pants that clung underneath her knees, and readied herself against you. You hummed out in pleasure relaxing into the mattress as she sunk down onto you, above you Charlie whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, clenching onto every vein and ridge. It was delectable, she couldn’t understand why she’d never gone for this before. Bottoming out, Charlie’s legs shook, her body would involuntarily convulse every now and again as she attempted to adjust to the size of you. Falling forward unable to keep herself up she sunk her nails into your chest making you groan deeply, bucking your hips up into hers.

Nuzzling herself into your neck as you took the reigns, thrusting up into her at a steady pace, she began to leave teeth marks and hickies along your neck, desperate moans broken out between nips and bites. Your arms encased her pulling her near as you roughly fucked up into her at a brutal pace, her juices dripping down you. Erotic, loud slapping noises were all that you could hear in the room accompanied by Charlie’s whimpers and please. “Fuckkk, yknow how long i’ve waited for this? They don’t know what their missing not staying around someone like you.” You say splaying your fingers through her hair as you do, at this point Charlie’s body laid limp atop your own, your knees up and angled to continue your rapid pace.

“Please,” Charlie begged clenching tightly around you, you huffed out a moan that you attempted to cover and slid your hands down to squeeze her ass. Groaning loudly, you pushed her over, still inside you hovered over her, pulling her legs up over your shoulders to gain new access. With this angle you were able to hit different areas making Charlie squeal. “Oh fuck Charlie,” You groaned as your balls slapped against her ass, finally you felt the band snapping and slowly you filled her with cum, pumping all of what you had inside her. Charlie cried out clenching, and convulsing against you. She tried to inch away screaming your name loudly as she road out her high against you. When the two of you had finished, catching your breaths, you laid beside her, pulling her into your chest.

She rolled her head from one side to face you, her eyes glazed over barely seeming like she was there. “Didja mean what you said about wanting this for so long?” You nodded at her, the softness in her voice was music to your ears and made goosebumps crawl against your skin. “Yeah, since i got here, you’ve had my eye.” Humming softly the princess said nothing, but buried her head in your chest.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #charlie magne x reader #charlie x male reader #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar x male reader #charlie magne smut

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heartofwritiing · 11 months

Text

Jitters and good luck kisses

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

authors note: just a short little blurb i had floating around my brain if the reader was dating wilbur and she joins him on tour for support lol. more wilbur fics are cominggg!!

warnings: Wilbur having anxiety, fluffy fluff, pda, short, unedited! if their is anything i missed let me know!

pre-show was always filled with anxiety for wilbur.

He's not exactly sure where his anxiety stems from when it came to performing, but it seems to be a combination of various factors. His overthinking brain tends to focus on potential mishaps, like messing up lyrics or strings breaking. However, he has rehearsed and there's no need to worry about these things.

He tried to clear his mind by shaking his head, hoping to expel the constant noise bombarding him, but it didn't work.

The opening act concluded fifteen minutes ago, and he sensed the audience becoming restless and excited about his band's performance. This caused him to feel increasingly nervous.

Wilbur had always been eager to please others and wished for everything to go smoothly in every circumstance. He had no desire to let anyone down, especially himself and the numerous individuals in the packed venue that had sold out within minutes.

He was still on cloud nine from everything recently. his band was finally taking off and getting more recognition. He was finally making a name for himself and was feeling proud of all the hard work he had put in. He was ready to take on the world and continue to make more music. He was determined to stay humble and keep learning, no matter how successful he became.

As his loving girlfriend, you were immensely proud of him. You stood by him through thick and thin, supporting him every step of the way as he chased his dreams. To you, nothing was more important than seeing him genuinely happy, and his passion for music brought him just that.

Remember that you left to get water five minutes ago he is anxiously pacing on the side stage again, wondering where you are. You went to the venues small "dressing room", which consisted of a mirror, a sofa, and chairs in a musty old room that smelled heavily of cigarettes. He expected you to return by his side sooner.

For the past month, you have been there every other night to wish him good luck with a kiss and cheer him on from the sidelines. You sing along to every single song.

You could tell that he was at ease when you were around, observing him from the sidelines and listening intently to every note he sang. His natural on-stage presence was undeniable and it was clear to you that he was meant to be there.

You were always there for him as a comforting presence whenever things took a turn for the worse. Though he felt guilty about relying on you for emotional support, he knew that your love for him surpassed any such concerns. Your mutual support for each other was a source of joy and strength.

Wilbur nervously chewed on the skin around his nails while Joe next to him tried to calm his nerves as well. Meanwhile, Ash and Mark engaged in casual conversation. Wilbur couldn't comprehend how they managed to stay composed before performances. If they did feel anxious, they never showed it.

“How are you guys not freaking the fuck out?” Wil questioned Mark and Ash, as he now was fiddling with the pegs on his fender.

Ash just shrugged. Great input.

“I used to but now it’s like not as much, since when I'm out there it kinda goes away like a switch is flipped in my brain to not be as anxious,” Mark explains.

Wilbur could agree with that. He experienced the same feeling every time they performed. As Mark mentioned, a switch would turn on in his mind, causing the bright lights and muted sounds of the audience to fade away. All that remained were the sounds of his own voice and his bandmates playing passionately in his ears.

"Okay guys, just one more minute before it's time for you to go on!" The stage manager gave them a thumbs-up before heading backstage to ensure that everything was ready to go one last tiem.

Wilbur’s eyes fell back to the spot where he last saw you disappear and felt his heart beating against his ribs. Panic settling in again.

As another minute passed, he worried that he wouldn't have enough time to kiss you before he went out. Mark was the first to go out due to his queue, followed by Joe and Wilbur could hear the fans cheering as Joe waved to them.

Just as Ash was preparing to take the stage, you rushed in through the side door and approached Wilbur with an anxious expression.

"I'm so sorry. My mother called and wanted to check in on me," you explained.

Wilbur noticed your panicked state and approached you, moving closer until your chests were almost touching.

"It's alright. I'm just relieved that you arrived on time. I was just about to step out," he exhaled, feeling as though he had taken his first breath in minutes.

Being close to you again felt like he was grounded and not lost in his thoughts. Regardless of the time and distance, he always felt your absence and missed you dearly.

As you smiled at him, Wilbur felt like he could die from the sheer beauty of the moment. The apples of your cheeks were so round, and the look in your eyes made it clear that you belonged to him.

He loved you so much.

"Of course! I couldn't let you go on without a kiss," you playfully remarked.

His hands came up to cup your cheeks tenderly and you both leaned in simultaneously until your lips met. It was soft and had nothing but your love and admiration poured into it. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just enough time so that when he pulled away your lips felt tingly with excitement.

You took his hands in yours and kissed his knuckles while gently squeezing them, letting him know that you would be waiting for him after he finished his set. He took a deep breath.

“go be a rockstar,” you kissed his cheek.

As you stood before him, he leaned in and placed one last soft and tender kiss on your forehead. The moment was too precious to resist the urge to kiss you one last time. He held onto your hands until you were too far apart to hold on anymore.

He then turned around, his guitar securely strapped to his back as he strode confidently toward the center stage. The microphone stood tall and proud, waiting for him to deliver his musical gift to the eager audience.

You watched in awe as the man you loved nervousness instantly floated away, as Mark counted into the first song and played his heart out. You never got tired of seeing him be so in the moment when he presented himself in front of an audience.

Wilbur approached you after the show with his heart pounding in his ears and a smile stretched across his face. The stage attendant took his guitar, and he embraced you in a bone-crushing hug spinning you around You could feel the excitement radiating off of him as he set you down. Sweat clung to his shirt and skin but you didn't care.

"That was one of the best shows we've done!" he exclaimed. "The audience was really engaged and enjoying it. I'm so proud of the band!" His happiness was infectious.

He looked into your eyes and smiled. It was important for you to let him know how proud you were of him. You have told him countless times, but you never got tired of telling him.

"I'm so proud of you honey!" you beamed.

Wilbur left your side to go congratulate the rest of the team. the rest of the band gathered around to celebrate together as You watched on in admiration as Wilbur interacted with each of them so effortlessly You felt immense pride seeing how far they had all come in such little time.

You couldn't tell what they were talking about as they all nodded at something Joe had said and separated to get ready to pack up and get back on the tour bus.

There was a look of love appearing on Wilbur's face when he looked back at you. You felt a warmth in your heart as you returned his gaze. He returned to you and embraced you once more, burying his face in your neck. As he bent over you, your hands threaded their way into his damp curls.

"Thank you for being here, I honestly don't know what id do without you." he sighs into your ear.

Your heart fluttered at the softness in his voice and you tightened your grip around him.

"I'm glad I could be here. I love you," you whispered the last part so softly that you doubted he could hear it.

Until he whispered back so affectionately; "I love you too,"

You both left the venue hand in hand as you walked with the rest of the group to the bus to get ready for going out for drinks at the local bar to celebrate another great night.

#wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #cc!wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #cc!wilbur soot #blurb #headcanon #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction

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v3nusxsky · 8 months

Note

hi love i hope you are doing well!!

can you do a sub rissa x r where rissa is sitting on r’s face and r just keeps eating her until she so overstimulated with aftercare and CUDDLES ☺️☺️☺️

Queen of the show 18+

*Authors note~ kinda ran wild with this one, I hope that's okay. I'm also hella obsessed with like cam girl Larissa for some reason.*

Trigger warnings~porn stars sub Larissa dom r oral sex overstimulation kink, praise kink, degrading kink, edging, bondage blindfold kink small vibe

Prompt~see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You have always been a fan of not a secret but private, after all what happened between you and your girlfriend was for the two of you to know and he rest to wonder. However, that wasn't completely true but no one else knew that. When you first mentioned the cam recordings you engaged in, you expected Larissa to run a mile. But instead, she asked to sit in the background, out of shot, as she watched you work. A slight pang of jealousy ran through the blonde as you read out the comments to your watchers. The way your words could rile up strangers had her desperately needing to show them she was yours. Not there's.

From that day on you both decided to do the cams together, faceless of course, after all Larissa had a reputation to uphold. You understood her wishes and you were already use to blurring your own face so your editing skills would definitely be adequate. Knowing how busy your submissive lover is, your decided to happily take over planning and editing, all Larissa would have to do is relax. You knew each others limits and kinks, and with a simple chat you had your own set of rules for the cam, you explained how everything would work and reminded her she didn't have to do this if she didn't want to. On the day of your first couple video, you spent all day teasing the blonde, flirty text messages and lingering touches had the woman driven insane with need for you. That was just how you wanted her for tonight.

You set the camera up with the desired angles and managed to secure the ties to the bed frame all in preparation for her arrival, the lights down low ready for you both to get naughty. "Come to our room my sweet" you shot the text off and knew she would instantly follow the instruction. With the gravity of the situation you made sure to shower her in kisses and praise. Slowly, you stripped clothing from the woman until she was left in a beautiful lacy deep crimson set, covering just the right amount to be teasing yet classy. Simply Larissa Weems.

"Ready Ris?" You murmured to the blonde, as you helped her get into the position you truly wanted her in. "Please, I don't care if they see, I want to be yours" she whined testing the restraints. "Oh they well Ris, my sweet girl aren't you?" You teased causing her to nod enthusiastically. "Hey guys, todays stream is going to be different, as you can see we have a guest of honour here tonight" you we're addressing the people that were flooding in and completely ignoring the principal who was spread out on the bed. "Behave princess, and maybe just maybe I'll let you show all my friends how pretty you are when you cum all over my face, you'd like that right? Of course you would because your a dirty girl who would love that."

You lifted your lovers head up to tie the blindfold securely around her head, "much better, so fucking pretty like this" you murmured before attacking the tall woman's neck, the camera having a perfect view as you sucked purple bruises onto her neck. Larissa couldn't help but whine pathetically for you and attempt to arch her back into your lips. "Please" she mewled hoping to plead with you, only to be ignored. "Guys, shall we play with her beautiful boobs here? Or delve right into her slutty cunt? Let me tell you she smelled Devine."

Comments flew in about your mysterious guest and how lucky she is, more votes to eating Larissa out had you stripping the woman of her lacy underwear before finding the little vibe you hid in your pocket. Ever so gently stroking it over her throbbing clit as she attempted to wither underneath you. You decided to share the holy sight with your viewers, reaching round to move the camera so her sopping pussy would be on full display. From there, your viewers had the perfect view to see how her cunt quivered with need. "Such a responsive thing for me, so pretty too. Tell me, does it turn you on knowing all these people see how much of a whore you are for me? Slut, stop bucking your hips, you no better than to be so greedy!"

"BlackWiddow01~ taste her already! She's absolutely dripping, such a pretty whore"

"lizb00b03~ I wish I was her, want you so bad"

"User018379~ I bet she's so pretty, show her face!"

"No guys, we will not be showing our faces, but feel free to keep gifting your tips, they are all greatly appreciated" you addressed the camera before turning back to the blonde. The notifications going wild as donations and tips flooded in. "Pretty girl, I've been cruel to my sweet girl haven't I? Shall I be nice now? Or shall I edge you more?" It was mainly rhetorical but the audience were on the same page as you. "Please I'll be good" the blonde whimpered.

"Witchy3940 ~ donated £50"

"Simpforwoman74902 ~ donated £10"

"Pretty pup899 ~ donated £15"

"Lesbinerd6456 ~ tipped £100 for you to overstimulate her like a bitch in heat"

"Now that's an excellent idea" you murmured before kissing all over her plush thighs, only when you had successfully kissed every inch of her thighs did you finally bring your mouth to her core, the heat radiating from it. Eating Larissa out was probably one of your favourite things in the world, she always tasted like a mix of strawberries and oranges. Addictive and delicious. With every swipe of your tongue, or harsh suck on her sensitive bud Larissa was reacting more vocally than ever before, that's why it was no surprise when she came violently over your long wet muscle that was being plunged into her quivering hole.

But you didn't stop there, you couldn't. And your viewers were more than happy to encourage you to overstimulate your guests as donations became higher and quicker. Larissa being thrown from one orgasm to have the next built up so quickly she had no clue when one ended and a new one began. "Please please more please" she whined causing you to bring her pearly bud between your lips and plunge two fingers into her now gushing cunt. "Yes fuck there! Wish it was your cock" the blonde mewled after letting out a near enough pornographic moan.

Time after time again, she was thrown to new highs of pleasure until she had tears soaking through the blindfold and please to stop, she couldn't handle more, but you didn't care. "One more pretty girl, just one more for me. Doing so good baby. Cum for me sweet girl, just let go" you murmured as your fingers repeatedly hit her sweet spot causing her to cry out as her vision blurred to white, and an unmatched pleasure coursed through her veins. As diligent as ever you worked the woman back from the highs, noticing how fucked out she truly was before closing your cams, with the prospect of Larissa's return.

Once the cam was off you immediately set to undoing her bindings and taking her blindfold off before moving to get her water with ice cubes, you knew it was her favourite way to cool down, and items to clean the blondes sensitive cunt. When the warm wash cloth hit her core, all she could do is whimper and plead for you to stop, too much pleasure. "Shhh darling, I'm just cleaning you up my love" you murmured lovingly before pressing sweet kisses all over her face, "you did so good sweet girl, they loved you. How do you feel my darling?"

"Like I want to do that again. Show them your my dom" she purred before coming to nuzzle into your neck. "Hold me?" She whispered and you instantly complied, threading your fingers from her blonde curls. "Sleep darling, it's all going to be okay my love, you're such a good girl."

Word count~ 1433

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa #larissa weems x reader #larissa smut #larissa x y/n #principal larissa weems #sub larissa #larissa x you #weems x reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems smut #principal weems #weems

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goldencherriess · 2 years

Text

Sentiment.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Requested? Yes! And it was by @gaitwae (i hope you like it <;3)

Summary: Sherlock finds himself entranced by Lestrade's best friend and co-worker.

Warnings: kinda office romance, fluff

Masterlist

Sherlock Holmes was a man of pragmatism and cold truth. He could answer to any question, he could find a resolve in everything (science always played a part in this sense), but when his dear roommate and companion, John Watson, suggested that maybe the suspect was in love with the victim's wife, he felt repulsed by the idea.

"Absolutely not, John! Have you paid attention to the details, to the facts?"

John's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. "Have you?"

Scoffing, Sherlock put his hands in the coat's pockets. "Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. No, we're dealing with a cold murderer this time, not some love sick puppy. If he were in love, his eyes pupils would have dilated when we asked about her, but they did not. And I-'' he trailed off when he saw a familiar mop of hair appearing behind John and talking to Lestrade, a notebook in her arms.

John turned around, eyebrows still raised and he crossed his arms, a smirk finding its way on his lips. His eyes met Sherlock's again. "You were saying?"

Sherlock licked his suddenly dry lips and blinked. "I, uh-"

"Cat got your tongue, Sherlock?"

It was as if Sherlock's brain short circuited, cutting all the ties to reality. He blinked and gulped thickly. ''When in love and looking at the object of all your desires and affection, your pupils get dilated. The pulse gets increased and you feel your breath leaving you. But that's not true, that's just an illusion, it's your body reacting to hormones. It's just pure science, really.'' he said, whispering the last part and never taking his eyes off of Y/N.

She was laughing now, touching Lestrade's arm and shaking her head in amusement. And Sherlock felt his stomach twisting into something he couldn't name. He tilted his head. ''I'm right, aren't I, John?''

''I don't know, Sherlock, but it doesn't seem so to me.''

Sherlock's gaze slowly left Y/N's figure and met John's eyes. His eyebrows pinched together. ''Why do you say that?''

John's smirk never left his lips. ''Your pupils dilated.''

Sherlock nodded, a realization dawning on him. And his eyes were again on her, just drinking her in. ''They did, didn't they?''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/N L/N was a woman of soft love and indulging daydreams. A pure romantic at heart, she could find meaning in every glance and smile (she did learn best from Jane Austen). But when her best friend and co-worker, Greg Lestrade, inquired about her new crush, she mumbled an excuse, blushing furiously and averting his gaze.

"Oh come on! I know you, Y/N! Been knowing you for years now. So, who is it?"

Shaking her head, Y/N replied. "No one."

Lestrade furrowed. "Then why are you blushing?"

''Why are we talking about this now? We're at a crime scene.'' she almost snapped.

Lestrade pursed lips, nodding and putting his hands in his pockets, his gaze looking in the distance at nothing particularly. And for awhile, neither of them said anything, the bustling of the forensic pathologists filling the air. Y/N fumbled with the notebook in her arms, her gaze sliding towards a certain curly haired man. They rarely talked about anything other than work, but she always found herself enticed by what he was saying. His mind worked in mysterious and interesting ways and she only wished to understand it more, to be the one overtaking his thoughts. Just like he did hers.

He met her eyes across the room and she felt her face flush. He acknowledged her with a nod of his head and she smiled his way.

''It's Sherlock, isn't it?'' voiced Lestrade besides her.

She snapped her head towards him, almost getting a whiplash. ''What?''

He just laughed. ''I'll be sending you over to him with work more often, then.''

Her laugh matched his and she smacked his arm, while shaking her head. ''You're impossible.''

''But the best!''

''At annoying me, maybe.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sherlock kept coming to crime scenes with John as he usually did. And things just went as they usually did. Anderson and Donovan were insufferable as ever, making wrong assumptions and awful comments. Graham (or was it Greg?) was useless as ever and John muttered praises under his breath, as always (''That's brilliant, Sherlock!'').

Except this time he was suddenly hyperaware of her presence. She always seemed to be there, in the corner of the room silently watching him work through the mystery and fog. It clouded his mind. He blinked, trying to get rid of the incorrigible thoughts and the tightness in his chest. He cleared his throat and risked a glance at John, who had his eyebrows raised. ''Right, well, uh, I have to think about this one, really mull it over.''

He straightened his back, popping the collar of his coat. But then, he looked at her and paused in his tracks. ''Unless, Y/N has anything to add to the case.''

She seemed lost in thought because once her name was spoken, by Sherlock no less, she snapped out of it, a blush adorning her cheeks. She visibly gulped and took a step forward, hugging her notebook closer to her chest. Her eyes met his and she had to inhale just so she could breath again. He was looking at her so intensely that she felt like she was being analyzed under the microscope, as if he could read through her. As if he could take her apart, soul by soul, layer by layer.

Y/N tore her eyes away from his and flipped through her notebook, only stopping when the date of today caught her attention. ''Well, uh, I believe the victim's wedding ring is missing.''

''There wasn't any wedding ring.'' interrupted Lestrade, frowning.

She nodded. ''Exactly. If you look at her left hand, you'd find the shadow of a wedding ring. She's very tanned, she must've returned from a vacation. Somewhere warm, as there isn't any sun in London. But she never did take off her wedding ring, the white line around her finger is the proof of that.''

''She could've just lost it.'' added John thoughtfully.

Sherlock remained quiet, his gaze pinned on Y/N, attention undivided by anything else but her. He was listening in, his mind screaming at the possibilities.

Y/N shook her head. ''No. The pictures of her husband in her wallet tell me otherwise. She cared. She wouldn't just let her ring get lost. There's something else there. Someone must've taken it. Maybe our killer.''

Sherlock's eyebrow arched and his eyes lit up. ''Impressive observation, darling.'' He started smiling and he grabbed her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her on both of her cheeks. ''Thank you!'' he said in a very excited voice, much like a kid would exclaim on a the Christmas morning at the sight of presents.

And he was off, the coat fluttering behind him in waves and leaving her flustered and red in the face. His kisses on her cheeks burned her like fireworks in the sky. She touched with shaking fingertips where his lips met her skin and she slightly smiled.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

221B was quiet, John gone God knew where. The rain was splattering against the windows in loud and almost thundering drops. Sherlock was sitting in his armchair, deep in thought, his hands lanced in a prayer position. He sighed and closed his eyes, his mind going off the rails.

The squeak of the front door pulled him to the reality. His eyes snapped open and his ears perked up. Light footsteps. Not John, as he walked harshly, his feet dragging behind him (he never actually left the war behind). Probably a woman, then. But not mrs. Hudson, as she always wore heels.

Sherlock slowly got up, his eyes never wavering from the door. The creeks of the stairs. Not a client, as the footsteps didn't sound urgent.

He was now in front of the door, touching the door knob and opening it like a storm cleaning everything in its path and he was met with the surprised eyes of Y/N L/N. She was drenching and panting, the rain really wearing her down. Her hair was soaking, raindrops falling from it and down onto the carpet with splashing sounds and the clothes were sticking to her skin and hugging her curves. Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek to not glance down her figure out of respect and dignity.

She sneezed, eyes closing and eyelashes shining with raindrops.

''Looks like you're catching a cold.'' Sherlock said in greeting.

She nodded before sneezing again.

''Bless you.''

She shivered and her arms hugged her waist in an attempt to find some warmth. Sherlock's eyes softened, but his voice remained impassible. ''Do come in, you're soaking my carpet.''

Flustered, the words came out of her mouth in a mess, closing in on each other and flying from the tip of her tongue. ''Uh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to- I just-''

''Save your energy and stop explaining yourself, you're obviously shivering and in dire need of a hot bath. Go do that, you're my guest. I'll prepare tea and get you some clothes to change in. Then we can talk.''

He gestured her towards the bathroom, before turning his back and leaving her with a red nose and a freezing face.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He was stirring the tea when he heard her small footsteps padding on the floor. ''Do you take your tea with milk?'' he asked without looking up. ''I usually do and-'' Sherlock lifted his head and his words died in his throat. He finally understood the concept of your breath leaving you at the sight of something beautiful. Because Y/N was beautiful, a rare landscape. An oil portrait that deserved to be admired in a museum. Almost Mona Lisa like. She was wearing one of his old sweaters, back from his university days, and some worn out pants he found in the back of the wardrobe. She was wearing his clothes. Alas they were a bit too big on her, the sleeves of the sweater falling down her hands and swallowing them whole.

''No milk for me.'' she replied in a meek and already raspy voice. The cold was catching up to her.

He blinked the awe from his eyes and handed her a cup of tea. ''Careful, it's hot. And you should take some meds.''

She thanked him by nodding her head. ''Where's John?''

''With his new girlfriend, I presume.'' Sherlock scoffed, turning around and searching through the kitchen drawers. ''He's never out his late usually. He always goes to sleep early.''

''And you don't?''

''I don't sleep when I'm on a case.''

''But you need the sleep.''

Sherlock met her gaze and flipped towards her a bottle of medicine. ''And you need to take these.'' he replied with a sarcastic smile etched on his face. But his eyes betrayed his whole cold demeanor. They were soft, almost warm. And Y/N was afraid to maintain the eye contact for too long. His eyes haunted her. She felt vulnerable under his gaze. Exposed.

She thickly gulped. "Can you start the fire? I'm still a little bit cold."

"If you take the meds."

"I will."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I mean now."

She huffed, but complied anyways. The tea burned her throat, the aroma bursting in colors on her tongue and the sweet smell tickling her nostrils.

Sherlock nodded and then entered the living room, crouching down near the fireplace. "Why are you here?"

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked once she was seated in an armchair.

Sherlock glanced towards her. Y/N was sitting in his armchair, slowly sipping her tea and looking around curiously. No one actually sat on it, besides him. He never let anyone. He inhaled and tore his gaze from her and onto the split firewood in front of him. "Do you want to?"

"No." she replied, watching him.

He got up, the fire coming alive in reds and oranges, the wood cracking. "Then stay." His eyes didn't stray from her as he took a seat in John's chair. "Why are you really here, though? We're not actually friends, so you can't say you came to visit. You were panting, so you must have run all the way here. Unless, you missed the bus. But that can't be as you live on the other side of London. And you weren't planning it, either. If you did, you would have known they announced rain later today and you would have carried an umbrella. But you didn't, so I assume this was a spur of the moment idea. Am I correct so far?"

She blinked. "Yes, but-"

"And you didn't come on behalf of work, either. You would have carried some files and you would have been all business, no play, as you usually are." He leant forward on the seat, his arms coming to rest on his knees. "So, tell me, why are you here, Y/N?"

Her cheeks reddened and she shifted in her seat, her hands gripping the tea cup. "Did you just deduce me, mister Holmes?"

His eyebrow arched, hiding under a stray curl. "Why, was I wrong?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not a bit."

A smirk bloomed on his lips. "Of course I wasn't, darling. I never am."

"You're quite narcissistic." she replied, her eyes watching him over the rim of the cup.

"I believe the correct word would be modest."

She hummed, the corner of her eyes crickling in amusement. She gently put down her cup and looked him in the eye. The fire sprayed shadows on his face, the room in a low glow. "Did you solve the case, Sherlock?"

Confusion overtook his features. "Is this why you came all the way here?"

She shrugged inocently. "I was curious. Did you?"

He nodded, the fire reflecting in his eyes and ebony hair. "Yes. You helped me. When you told me about the wedding ring, a light went off in my head. I searched through her wallet. You were right, she cared too much to lose a wedding ring, it meant a lot to her. And I think someone got jealous."

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "An affair?"

"But not on her part, though. Love is a strong motive. It makes you do crazy things." Sherlock whispered.

His gaze burned her. He searched her eyes, as if he was hoping to find something in them, and then his gaze drifted off to her lips. "I know the signs." he said.

"What signs?" Y/N replied breathless.

"Your cheeks redden every time you look at me, your pupils dilate. You think I don't notice, but I do. Every time."

She swallowed. "Is that- Is that a bad thing?"

He got up to his feet and took slow steps, only stopping when he was close enough to take her wrist. A gentle touch. Her heart almost beat out of her chest and a lump formed in her throat when Sherlock leaned in to whisper into her ear, his breath warming her skin. "I took your pulse."

Y/N fluttered her eyes shut when she felt his lips skim over her jaw before he lightly kissed her cheek. "The feeling's mutual, by the way." he said in a low whisper, his lips caressing her afire skin.

And then he was up and away, smiling genuinely at her, a sparkle in his eyes. "You should get some rest. I'll be sleeping on the couch, you take the bed."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "Please, you're my guest tonight. It would be my pleasure."

Y/N nodded, getting on her feet, her eyes meeting his chest. He was wearing the purple shirt he wore last week. His figure towered over her and he gently took her hand. "My room's that way. If you need anything, tell me. Good night, darling."

And he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

John found the atmosphere weird that morning. His eyebrows were scrunching and he looked at Sherlock. "You're awfully quiet." he said while he spread butter on toast.

"Am I, really?" replied Sherlock, not taking his eyes off of the newspaper he was reading.

"Yes, you are. Don't you, usually, ramble about some newfound case?"

"Usually."

"Then, what's different this time?" replied John before he bit into the toast.

The clicking of a door and the sight of a just waken up Y/N made him choke on the food. "Careful, John, you'll die if you do that again. Good morning, darling. Tea?" said Sherlock in a sweet voice.

Y/N simply smiled at him, averting her gaze from John.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I'm missing something." laughed John.

"No, John, you're just delusional." said Sherlock, while he poured tea in a cup for Y/N, who was blushing furiously under all the attention.

"Wait 'till Greg hears about this!" replied John, still smiling in awe.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"Lestrade." said Y/N from besides him.

"I thought his name was Gavin."

"It's Greg."

"When did this happen?" interrupted John, all sparkling eyes.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, picking up the newspaper once again. "Nothing happened, John."

"I'm not believing a word! This is too good-"

"Stick to blogging, John, gossiping doesn't suit you."

Offended, John gasped, turning to look at Y/N. She avoided his gaze, drinking her tea and looking at the walls around them. "Right... My bad, then." he said, sighing.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sherlock Holmes started smiling at crime scenes. It was almost off putting, the way a genuine smile would break through at any moment. In front of a corpse, no less.

Lestrade noticed it. He also noticed the oh-so-not-subtle glances. Sherlock's eyes would slip over to Y/N and she would meet his gaze, almost shyly but smiling.

Then, the detective started asking her opinion on the cases more often and Lestrade knew. How could he not when it was all so obvious?

"You know, Sherlock, one day you're gonna steal my co-worker." he said as he approached him.

Sherlock's face remained impassible like stone. "That won't ever happen. She'll come willingly if you keep boring her. Send her on real cases, she's smart enough to solve them on her own."

Lestrade opened his mouth to reply but he was left in the dust after Sherlock spotted Y/N. "Yeah, okay..." he trailed off as he watched Y/N greet Sherlock with a blush and a shy smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Let's have lunch." said Sherlock to Y/N, meeting her eyes and standing straight. He wore his blue navy coat and a white shirt this time.

"To talk about the case? I think I found a lead and-"

"No."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "No?"

He took a step closer to her. "No. Let's have lunch to talk about ourselves."

She felt her face flush. "Oh."

Sherlock's eyes held a look of amusement and adoration and he smiled. "I believe the correct word would be yes." He lightly took her hand, his thumb caressing her skin in slow circles. "Please, do me this honour and let me take you out on a date."

Y/N smiled up at him, before standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'd love to."

Bonus:

"I kind of set them up." said Lestrade as he and John watched the interaction between Sherlock and Y/N from afar.

"How so?"

"I stole Y/N's umbrella and then set her off home, asking her to stop by 221B in order to ask Sherlock what progress he was making in solving that case."

"Oh, Greg! That was brilliant! She spent the night there."

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: oh wow this somehow turned to be a long one. It was supposed to be around 2k words, more or less but I kinda got carried away.

I hope you enjoyed it! Every feedback is appreciated! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask!

Have a great day xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

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hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

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Take a Chance with Me || fourteen

*mostly written parts

remember to comment and reblog

it was quite obvious that yn and seungcheol would be invited to numerous interviews. and of course, they went to most of them.

"so who liked who first?"

"we first met when we were trainees because yn's younger brother and childhood friend were friends with our maknae, Dino. yn was a trainee under a different company and... was his name Jae? I'm sorry but my memory of him is very fuzzy. I believe Jae was a trainee with us until he dropped out due to health issues."

"so we knew each other from the start of our trainee days and I debuted the same year as them, so we were quite close, I would say. But I think I fell first."

"no, i definitely did."

the interviewer sat up in her seat. "really? why is that so?"

seungcheol grasped yn's hand. "it was in 2014 when we were meeting up together with the other 95 liners in Seventeen. yn was wearing this winter coat that made her so pretty. I fell instantly. you can ask jeonghan, he'd be more than happy to embarrass me."

this was news to yn, who couldn't help but smile. "so you did fall first."

"so when did you fall for him, yn-sshi."

"when i first saw him perform during one of his dance practices. his presence was so strong and i don't know... he was so attractive."

seungcheol flushed red.

yn was at svt's dorm, celebrating her rekindled relationship with seungcheol.

"finally you both are together again. after 3 long years."

"thanks to hoshi actually. he sped the process up by a lot."

"noona, we should do a weverse live right now."

"yea, we should."

their weverse live hit record-high views. the app almost crashed. everyone was so curious to see domestic, drunk yncheol.

"hi guys. yn is super drunk and is having a mini concert with hoshi." - mingyu

"they've sung "just do it" 15 times. someone please stop them." - scoups

"wait they're singing yn's album songs now." - joshua

"oh my god i don't want to hear a drunk version of Oceans and Engines..." - jun

"stop hoshi before he ruins Take a Chance with Me" - minghao

"no wait i want to hear this." - jeonghan

"now hoshi is crying..." - wonwoo

"jihoon-ahhhhhhhhh" - hoshi

"no hoshi..." - woozi

"why is yn still singing... now she's crying... scoups!" - seungkwan

"on it." - scoups

"i'm so sorry for this me-"

"HORANGHAE." - hoshi

"..." - svt

"mianhae" - minghao

"everything okay, yn?"

"yea. i finally feel like... i'm home."

he pulled her in for a kiss. "i'm glad you feel this way. maybe now you'll continue writing those good love songs about me?"

she laughed. "we'll see, cheol. but thank you for... taking a chance with me."

now he laughed. "was that supposed to be a joke?"

"no, i meant it. I love you."

"i love you too."

-fin-

a/n THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING "TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME" AHHHH!!! my first ever smau and kinda long fic. omfg thank you for all the love on this. i'm so so grateful. stay tuned for chpt fifteen, the epilogue. i have something special planned. special thank you to those who always commented/reblogged my posts. yall have a special place in my heart!!!!

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupskook

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 11 months

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Idk what to tell to the people who still don't get that although is okay to teach kids the rules to live in a society (like respect others or don't kill or whatever), Kotaro Shimura, Enji Todoroki and Toga's parents didn't care as much for society rules as they care for the rules that made them feel okay at home.

Which in the end caused the main villain trio to reject authority and society and turn into violence, since they did try to use words as kids and were royally ignored.

Tenko, Touya and Toga tried very hard to be good kids, but in their parents conception it was not enough 'cause they couldn't repress some of their needs: they wanted their dads and moms to accept them as they were, to accept who they wanted to be, to accept the way they expressed love and accept the way they interacted with their surroundings.

In Tenko's case, Kotaro was unable to accept his kid desire to become a hero. His could be the worst case in bnha, given the violence of his tragedy and how misfortune (maybe even something else) played on it ending so badly. Tomura himself said that house rejected his very identity, even tho Hana tried to support him in secret and Nao stood up for him, little too late. For what we saw of him as a child, his only defect as a son was wanting to be a pro-hero, dream that got him beaten up for, grounded in a rather cruelly manner. Kotaro's trauma turned him into an irrational man, his hatred for heroes was both the build up and the catalysis of the tragedy that ended the lives of the people he loved the most.

Tenko didn't become a villain because he was an evil kid. He became a villain because AFO wanting it so and because Kotaro inculcated in him such extreme hatred.

In Touya's case, it's a bit more complicated. I don't believe Enji's obsession was completely evil in nature, although his actions were truly selfish and it became later abusive, when his desperation blinded him to the point he was unable to understand how bad he has turned out to be. Like in Tenko's case, the mother is at fault only in yhe sense that their lack of intervention allowed the situation to escalate 'til they couldn't prevent it anymore. Touya's case differentiates itself in the fact that he was older than Tenko, his behavior declining over the years into extreme violence, unlike the way Tenko exploded in murder glee when Kotaro hit him one last time.

The lack of proper attention from both Enji and Rei allowed Touya's behavior to become a tragedy. Their negligence, Enji's focus on his work and Shouto (as a project not a son) and Rei's role of a caretaker yet not a mother, combined with the incapacity of Natsuo and Fuyumi to understand what Touya was going through (really, only Shouto could, but at that point Touya hated him too much and Shouto was way too young)... Well, it didn't end well for a kid that didn't want help anymore but attention on his own terms. He was tired of adapting, the same way Tenko rebelled in his insistence of acting the hero way.

The same house rule ( YOU CANNOT BE A HERO ) sent them both to AFO's hands, one way or another. They were kids who couldn't act the way their dads wanted, so fuck them I guess.

That part is compatible to Toga's case. Kinda.

Toga's parents are by far the most twisted of the bunch, which is a lot to say considering that Kotaro hit his kids and Enji even hit his wife. Yet, without having to touch a single hair of their little girl, they inflicted damage so deep she preferred to become a runaway criminal than to stay at home one more day.

At least Kotaro and Enji valued at some level Tenko and Touya's existence. Toga's parents didn't care about her at all. She was as good as a broken doll, an imperfect piece of their furniture, something they wish wasn't related to them at all. Enji was at least worry about his son and he loved him at some degree, the same way Kotaro worry over Tenko was born out of his fear of losing his family. Nothing of it excuses what they do and let it be said that Enji and Kotaro did saw Touya and Tenko as monsters at some point (when Touya tried to kill Shouto and on his Dabi era, when Tenko killed his family and turned to Kotaro). Yet it doesn't compare to the way Toga's parents immediately erased her from their lives, even denying any affiliation. They sent her to that therapy like a car needing to be repaired. She was a sign of status, she was an object that they failed to produce, she was an aberration and a freak, she deserved to be put down.

From the three od them, Toga was the one who struggled the most to fit in socially, not to society standards tho. To her parents.

If all these parents had cared for their kids more than they cared for his own stupid rules maybe things would have been different. But that's the core of their problems, they don't need the whole world to accept them, they need to treat the internalized traumas their parents left them with, the self-hatred and the feeling of inadequacy and the need for acceptance (of themselves) and recognition.

That's why Toga, Izuku and Shouto are the key for their recovery. Acting as mirrors, they are meant to provide the closure the villain trio desperately need. It's not just a sibling or a nemesis bond, but a recognition of the self through the other situation.

If they can accept themselves and correct their ways and get free from their parents absurd rules, if they can move past the child need for their parents validation, maybe they can finally exist in a less painful way.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha leaks #bnha manga spoilers #bnha 392 #dabi #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #himiko toga #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki

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