Tumgik
#god I was cringing through so much of that fight
chamomiletealeaf · 2 days
Note
Johnny 'I'll fist fight you (affectionately) if you don't think you're pretty.' MacTavish
AHHH I LOVE THIS (might project in this one because I’ve recently been feeling ugly asf because of my Telogen Effluvium (stress induced hair loss)
Warnings: insecurity, mild suggestive themes at the end.
You’d be in the bathroom holding back tears while trying to do your hair for the date you were supposed to go on with your boyfriend Johnny. You can’t seem to get your hair right and it shows way too much of your face. Or so you think.
knock knock
“Can I come in bonnie? Wanna see how pretty you look.”
You sniffle and try to make your voice sound as convincing it can be.
“Um. Not yet! I- I’m not dressed!” You say hesitantly.
“Now I really wanna come in.” He says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice and you roll your eyes.
“C’mon, please? Wanna see my girllll.” He whines out and you give in.
“Ok fine. come on in.” You say, and he does.
He comes in the bathroom and smiles at you, even though your head is down, pretending to rummage through your makeup bag for something.
Johnny wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror.
“Hey girlie.” He coos with a smile, but you don’t look up.
“Hey.. look up bonnie. Wanna see that pretty little face of yours.” He says as he goes to reach for your jaw with one hand and forces your head up so you look in the mirror.
His smile drops and his brows furrow when he sees the tear streaks and your puffy eyes.
“What’s the matter dovey?” He asks with genuine concern. “Why ya crying??” He turns you around so you face him and he looks at your face still, waiting for an answer.
“I- I don’t know I just… can’t get my hair right, my makeup isn’t blending well, I hate the way this sundress fits me, I- I just feel kinda ugly I guess.” You sniffle but drop your head down and look at your hands.
“Oh sweetheart…” Johnny coos.
“Look at me.” He says softly, and you don’t, so he lifts your chin up with his hand.
“I said look at me lass.” He says, still in a soft tone.
“You look absolutely gorgeous. Fuckin’ stunning. You could have your hair in all different directions, a bin bag on, and dirt smeared all over your face and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world.” He says, still holding your face.
“I think your hair looks beautiful, and your makeup too. I like the eyeshadow color you chose. Makes those pretty eyes that much more captivating as if they ever could entrance me any more. And this sun dress?”
A smirk begins to form on Johnny’s face as he turns you back around to face the mirror and he places his hands on your thighs and runs them up under your dress until they’re squeezing your hips.
“This dress was fuckin’ made for you. God you know how I love sundresses on you. You replace every star in the sky with just how much you shine my love.” He says into your ear and you sniffle again, but your lips twitch with a small smile.
“Now look in the mirror and say that you are the prettiest woman in the world.” He says, and you look at him.
“Johnny-“ you start, but he interrupts you.
“Ah- say it.” He demands.
You bite your lip for a second, cringing at what he wants you to say, because you don’t believe it. But you look at him and try anyway.
“Don’t say it to me. I already know. Say it to yourself.” He demands again, and grips your jaw again to look at yourself in the mirror and not at him.
“I- I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You mumble.
“Again.” He says.
“I am the prettiest woman in the world.” You say again, with more confidence, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
“Aye- that you are bonnie.” He says, finally satisfied with your response.
“Now, let’s go out on our date hm? Wanna show everyone who my pretty little lass is.” He says into your ear as he squeezes your hips which makes you giggle as his facial hair tickles your skin.
“And when we get back?” He whispers lowly this time with a smirk, “I’m gonna prove to you again right between your thighs just how bloody fuckin’ beautiful you are.” He says, and you let out a little gasp which makes him laugh.
You forgot all about your insecurities with Johnny, because it was just you and him, and that’s all that ever mattered in the first place.
131 notes · View notes
itsclydebitches · 1 year
Text
Let's tally things up, folks!
Ruby's entire depression arc is "resolved" by a one sentence exchange wherein she just... decides she's better now? 'Is this the message?' Ruby asks, on her knees in front of a not at all subtle broken piece of glass. 'That I'm just supposed to give up?' and then literally the next moment she sees Crescent Rose, the weapon she's been flinching from because it represents all the failures she hasn't actually grappled with this season, and decides that depression and suicidal ideation are for losers. Let's go fight a randomly evolved cat!
The group still doesn't care about Ruby's Volume-long struggle. What are you talking about, evil kitty? Ruby's never been confused, or weak, or feeling like she's broken. We're oblivious to all that. That's why we follow her, because we can easily ignore everything that's going on in her life and instead just focus on ourselves. Didn't she have a breakdown a couple of hours ago about having to lead all the time? Should we really be announcing the moment she steps out of the tree that we expect her to be in charge again? ... nah, it's fine!
I guess the overall message is that any and every horrific act is excusable because you're just being yourself? Sorry we doomed a Kingdom and have actively helped Salem in trying to take over the world. The horrors we've enacted are good things though because it means we're being ourselves.
Ruby is conveniently the only Ascended who retains all her memories. Can't have the protagonist undergoing any kind of actual change, after all.
Neo throws herself into the tree despite that going against every iota of her characterization. Will we ever see her again? Who knows.
Is the blacksmith lady Alyx? I still have no idea.
Jaune is made young again, because of course he is. Love that they act like this is some curse he's suffered from - "It's been so long..." - and not an actual life lived across several decades. If I got stuck somewhere for twenty-ish years and then someone tried to magic me back to my 18 year old self I'd be like wtf? No? I'm not a teenager??? Will the show ever acknowledge that Jaune is actually an old man in a de-aged body now? I doubt it, considering this plot-line had no impact on his personality, skill, or outlook.
Also love that the brothers' story is treated like this wonderful tale of growth and exploration. The blacksmith is going on about how amazing it is that you don't know what you'll get when you create something, tone all fond for the demi-gods that have left her world to toy with new ones, and I just wanted one of the characters to start screaming about all the horrors they've caused. They killed an entire population in one fell swoop and have cursed two individuals for funsies, with the entirety of Remanent permanently under threat of annihilation if they don't meet the Gods' ambiguous standards of unity. Oscar didn't fall into the void because if Ozpin had been there he would have gone feral and attacked the blacksmith with his bare hands.
We're heading back to Remnant and Ruby still doesn't know that Jaune killed Penny! Ruby didn't even get her sword back. Or consider her in the tree therapy session. Why was killing her off necessary again? Oh yeah, Jaune angst🙃
We got a "when you're needed" from the blacksmith, so expect that time-skip in Volume 10. Can't wait to see how much important stuff the story skips over...
Also, this is so minor in the grand scheme of everything else, but I YELLED when Summer admitted that she'd lied about the mission. For nine Volumes these characters have been dragging Ozpin for every problem under the sun including, in Volume 7, for the mysterious disappearance of Summer, only for it to turn out that she LIED about where she was going and on whose orders, setting him up to take the fall when she doesn't come back. Who's going to have Qrow apologize to Ozpin for blaming him for years? Who's going to have Ruby unpack that her whole family is made up of liars and she was foolish to think that anyone, including Ozpin, could survive this war with a completely clean record? Hell, who's going to have Ruby simply tell anyone - including her sister - what she now knows about her mother's death? Not the RT writers, I'd wager.
Especially when they gave us a scene of Summer leaving on what she recognizes may be a suicide mission and leaves a token of affection for one daughter but not the other. Summer is Yang's mom too! Yeeeeeaaah the story is really bad about actually writing that.
Overall this Volume just feels like a colossal waste to me. The story ignored most of what was set up in Volume 8, introduced a world it didn't have time to flesh out, threw in an unnecessarily shocking story line about the hero trying to kill herself, 100% dismissed the ramifications of that, reset everyone so that none of the characters have to actually grow or change, and has now implied that all the plot important stuff - the Atlesians' survival in the desert, trying to ally with Theodore, Salem's next attack on Remnant, the development of most of our B Team, etc. - has occurred off screen.
The only thing this Volume accomplished was getting the bees together, which was something we should have had years ago. That admission hasn't changed their dynamic in any way, or introduced new conflicts (remember, no one cares about Ruby's breakdown, including her correct accusation that Yang has cared more about her girlfriend than her struggling little sister). It's just... there, not queerbaiting anymore, thankfully, but that feels like a very low bar to meet.
2+ months later and all I'm feeling is
Tumblr media
211 notes · View notes
mustymausoleum · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
moodboard rn uwu screams
12 notes · View notes
devilisln-moved · 1 year
Text
Anyway, I think I really dig Joe Kelly writing Daredevil. At least in regards to the retro stuff. I can't really tell from the art and idek when fucking Frank Miller started on Daredevil. So it might be late 70s, early eighties?
3 notes · View notes
midnightarcheress · 7 days
Text
another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?
cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. 2 | more casino!141
Tumblr media
you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.
at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 
however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 
you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.
"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?
for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 
the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?
thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.
your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 
the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 
"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.
the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.
John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 
you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.
you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?
his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 
"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"
"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 
through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.
the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 
you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."
Tumblr media
i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol
464 notes · View notes
artaxlivs · 8 months
Text
Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.
"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.
"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?
Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.
"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.
He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.
Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"
The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.
"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.
"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"
"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.
Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.
Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."
"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.
Gross. So gross.
"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."
Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"
Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'
Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."
"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."
Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.
Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.
Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"
What?
"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.
He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.
Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.
"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"
"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.
Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"
Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.
What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.
Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"
"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.
Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.
The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.
Holy shit.
And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.
Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.
2K notes · View notes
s1m0nth3swag · 25 days
Note
i apologise if i already sent this ask, my memory is terrible! if your requests are open, may i get an easily flustered male Reader/doorman who is mercilessly teased and flirted with by a doppelganger Francis and the real Francis watches? Whenever it's smut or not is up to you
I just absolutely need to imagine Scarlet Milk Francis and regular Francis.... thats a physical need actually.
Like flirty Scarlet Milk and Francis who's just like "bro i would never say that, cringe" UNTIL HE NOTICES READER GETTING FLUSTERED AND HE JUST GOES "damn. whore." (judgy Francis for the win <3)
I'm not at all down bad for Scarlet Milk Francis wdym this is normal, isn't it?
Also, uhm, uhm, a little badly written because I wrote this in Latin Class, and my brain is positively fried!
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Slight suggestive themes (not full blown smut though), Francis being judgy, Reader being down bad (relatable), part two worthy bullshit (because i love the thought of taking Scarlet Milk and Francis (totally in a fight.))
Blood. That's the first thing you noticed as your favourite Milkman walked in. He was covered in blood. When asked about it, he simply said it was 'Scarlet Milk', a new type of milk. You had simply nodded along, like yeah. This was totally normal. Not like you had let the actual milkman in just a few minutes later, and you knew that if you called the apartment his voice would sound from the telephone. You reached there, eyes fixed on the doppelganger - you had always thought Francis was attractive but this.. well, it was definetly a new high. "Don't call him." The doppelganger spoke, voice too sweet and buttery. He knew he'd gotten caught, but seemingly he.. didn't mind. He smiled at you through the small window that seperated the hall and your office. "Bet the real one doesn't even bat an eye at you, hm? You're so good looking, he really should." You flushed slightly, even though you know you shouldn't. This was a doppelganger, for gods sake! A ruthless monster that could easily kill you! Yet here you were, blushing at the fake Francis. And he knew he got you on the hook, you could tell by the grin that adorned his face.
If you had known that the actual Francis still stood just outside the door that led into the building, and had seen the fact that a Doppelganger with his face had walked in, you probably wouldn't be talking to it anymore. Much less if you had known that Francis hurriedly made his way to your office - he trusted you didn't have a memory of five seconds, but something told him you were in trouble. He didn't even bother knocking, just opened the door to what was probably the weirdest scene ever. You with a bright blush covering your face, his doppelganger having a shit eating grin on his face... Yeah this had to be a fever dream.
Meanwhile, you were absolutely done for. Sweet nothings, things you didn't think anyone would dare speak out loud - the doppelganger had probably given you the most compliments you'd ever received in your lifetime. You turned around in shock as you heard the door open, staring at the real Francis like a deer caught in headlights. "Look who decided to join us! Real me!" The doppelganger chuckled. "Was just telling this sweet thing what I'd do to them if they let me in." He purrs, tapping against the window teasingly. "They got real shy about it." You glared at the doppelganger, looking between him and the actual Francis. "What'd he say." Francis practically demands to know, and your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red at the thought of having to repeat the things the doppelganger said. This was probably a moment to sink into the ground forever. "Just said I'd give them something to do with those pretty lips. And then some other things.." The doppelganger answers in your stead. Yup, you definitely want to get swallowed by the floor at this point. Francis looks at you, raising a brow in silent judgement. "Seriously? I'd never say stuff like that. That's stupid." He sighs, his face scrunching in a frown. "And honestly, you see me covered in blood and think "Yeah I'd fuck that"? Really?" He adds, serious annoyance in his voice, and you don't even know what's happening anymore because this whole situation is so unreal. "I'm sure I'm really handsome." The doppelganger quips in. "Though.. I would look better without this awful uniform, don't you think, sweets?" You let out a silent groan, covering your ears in embarrassment.
You don't know why this continued, but now Francis and the doppelganger are yapping about how the doppelganger doesn't get Francis' speech right - you seriously stopped listening after they both told you to shush when you said you'd just terminate the Doppelganger... you only listened to hints of the conversation. Something about sharing is caring or so.
God, how did you get yourself into this...
512 notes · View notes
ghost-proofbaby · 3 months
Text
fictional boyfriends (e.m.)
summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.
warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.
wc: 2.5k+
a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink
Tumblr media
It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.
Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 
Until that damn game.
When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 
“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 
“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“
“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”
For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 
“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“
“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”
You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.
More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 
“Fine.” 
The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.
He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.
“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 
“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 
“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 
“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”
“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”
“Well that makes one of us.” 
Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”
He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 
Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 
You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“
“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 
He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.
“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 
He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.
Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 
“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“
He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.
You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”
“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 
You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 
God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.
“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 
He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.
“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  
His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.
“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.
You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 
And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.
You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 
“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 
If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 
But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 
Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.
When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.
He bites.
Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.
You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?
If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.
He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 
Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 
“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 
He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 
Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 
“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 
“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 
Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 
He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”
“I do not-”
He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 
“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 
You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 
“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”
“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 
His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.
“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 
Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.
He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
join my taglist!
734 notes · View notes
aangell333 · 3 months
Note
hi<333 can i do like a fluff and smut request for aaron hotchner? a virgin//very innocent reader (18+, ofc) who’s maybe spencer’s sister or something, and she meets aaron and he knows she has a crush on him? super flirty banter and lots of touching until it drives the reader crazy, but she won’t admit that it makes her horny? eventually aaron, who’s always so blunt, asks if she’s horny at that moment, and they have a talk about her wants and needs? maybe daddy issues! reader? obv eventual full smut
idk i’m a sucker for daddy! aaron taken innocent readers virginity
thank u <333
how you managed to land a job at the bau, the behavioural analysis unit, at the f-b-fucking-i is beyond you. you’d answered an ad, filled out a form, did a quick interview and boom. you’d been appointed to a team.
granted, it was only as an assistant, most likely running the team’s coffees, but still. that’s running coffees for the fbi. how many people can say they do that for a living?
you walked in on your first day a bundle of nerves. you’d chosen your cutest-but-still-work-appropriate outfit and genuinely tried to walk in with your head held high. but the whispers and mutters that followed you through the bullpen left you more nervous than you’d started. willing yourself not to run, you sped up your pace slightly and trotted up the stairs that lead you to your new boss’s office.
you knocked on the door quickly, trying to soothe your racing heart.
“come in.” a deep voice called you, commanding and loud. you cracked the door open and stood awkwardly at the threshold. your eyes widened as you took in the scene.
the man that sat before you was nothing you’d ever seen before. it was as if he’d been crafted from the purest marble sent by the gods, chiselled away at by the most experienced and meticulous hands. he was incredible, deep, black eyes that matched the neat hair on his head, the quirk of his questioning eyebrow as you gawked at him.
“m-mr- detective hotchner. I’m y/n y/l/n, your new assistant?” you squeaked out, trying not to cringe at how shaky and scared you sounded. his face cleared, like ripples calming on a pond, leaving it smooth and glassy. like a pond who’s lips you wanted to capture on yours and-
“ah, of course! come on in and take a seat,” he rose from his desk and held his hand out with a soft smile.
your feet moved of their own accord, moving you closer to the beautiful man as you placed your hand in his. his other hand came up to clasp yours as they shook, yours disappearing beneath his. once he released your hand, you both sat down at the same time. the guest chair situated at his desk was slightly uncomfortable and you tried not to squirm in the plastic.
“would you like a tea? coffee?” he asked you, closing the manila folder on his desk and tucking it away.
“I feel like I should be asking you that,” you joked with an airy laugh and you tried to fight the swoon that threatened you at the sound of his own chuckle.
“don’t worry about that just yet. let’s get you acquainted before we start rushing you off your feet,” he said with a quick smile.
the two of you then started discussing your boundaries. what you were willing to do, what you’re a little more less experienced in doing. he assured you multiple times that you would be kept well away from any unsubs, no matter who requested what of you.
“I don’t want you in any danger, y/n. it is my responsibility to keep you safe.” he’d said in a serious tone, making himself clear to you.
a week later, you found yourself in an nypd precinct, listening to the detectives spitball theories. you were perched on a spinny desk stool offered by mr hotchner - having not yet got past addressing him as his formal name, no matter how many times he insisted you call him hotch - as he perched on the desk behind you. his hands gripped the edges of the desk, knuckles ever so gently brushing your back each time you squirmed in your seat.
“…targeting women much like this young lady here,” you flushed as the captain of the precinct gestured a hand towards you. he chuckled and winked at mr hotchner above you. “better keep your assistant safe, detective hotchner.”
he went on to give more details of the case to his team, but you couldn’t listen. your breath was caught in your chest and anxiety curled itself into your chest.
“hey, hey, it’s ok.” mr hotchner mumbled from above you, leaning down slightly towards your ear. you felt his knuckles gently skimming up and down your back. the action calmed you slightly and you leaned into his touch. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
the words made you swoon… and strangely… made your core clench? a frown briefly furrowed your brow and you wondered what caused such a reaction down there. you had rarely felt anything down there apart from pain during your period, and you hadn’t felt such a… tingly feeling since your teenage years.
the captain dismissed his team and he and the rest of the bau came over to you and mr hotchner. their appearance made him sit back up and move his hand back to gripping the edge of the desk.
“so, what’s the move, hotch?” derek asked, folding his arms and adjusting his stance.
mr hotchner hummed and frowned, bringing a hand up to his mouth. you gently rolled your chair to the side a little so that you weren’t in the way, not liking how the attention on him made you feel out of place. mr hotchner began reeling off his plan, giving jobs out to the members of his team. his tone was commanding and firm, leaving no room for argument as the team started their investigation for the case.
“..and, y/n, could you collect some menus from restaurants in the area for us all to look over so we can decide on a place for dinner?” he asked you, his voice significantly softer and kinder with a gentle hand on your shoulder. you nodded and gathered your things, heading over to the briefing room where the team had set up.
throughout the day, you couldn’t shake that ache and tingle in your core. you lay back on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling above you with your hands folded on your stomach. your core was throbbing by now, begging for… you didn’t know what for. but it throbbed. and ached.
you’d never… done anything down there. never touched it or had it touched. back in high school, your friends would always tell you about their sex lives and who they were sleeping with. but you were always too… shy. too nervous to do any of that. so you stuck to yourself, no matter how people teased you for being a virgin. and you had always had that in the back of your mind whenever anyone had tried to initiate anything with you. how inexperienced you were. how you didn’t know what you were doing. so you’d stop it all entirely. and that’s how you ended up here, 26 and not once touched.
maybe mr hotchner wouldn’t mind… you found yourself thinking. you often found yourself thinking of what mr hotchner thought of you. if he liked you at all. you were pretty sure he did, he was very nice to you and gentler with you than he was with everyone else. he was almost like a father to the group…
he was more of a father than your own was. your father came and went from your home as he pleased, leaving you to care for your sick mother yourself. and when he was home… it wasn’t very pretty. you cringed at the amount of times you had to pick your own bedroom lock after he’d left again so that you could tend to your mother. you were scared of your father, knowing he could find you whenever he wanted to find you. the thought made you sick to your stomach.
you huffed and shifted onto your side, pushing the duvet off of you. your eyes drifted to the digital clock you’d brought with you, 12:46. not great considering you had to be up at 6am the next day. but sleep seemed like a foreign mystery to you at that time, so you decided a cold shower would help shake this unusual feeling from your core. so that’s what you did, kicking the duvet away and padding over to the en-suite.
you sat in the briefing room of the precinct slightly dazed the next day. you’d slept in by accident, and the sound of derek banging on your door was what woke you up. at 6:57am.
mr hotchner sat beside you as he watched the captain at the front of the room, describing his theories. your tired gaze was fixed on the pot of pens in the middle of the table as you zoned everything out. the strange tingly feeling was back in your core, poking at your entrance. it had started when you were making coffees for everyone and mr hotchner had leaned over you from behind to grab you the pot of sugar you couldn’t reach, his hand placed gently on your waist. the interaction had left you breathless and… throbbing. you squirmed in your seat and pressed your thighs together, praying it would go away.
you screwed your eyes tight shut and opened them again, your eyes flitting to the movement you saw in the corner of them. mr hotchner had his hands folded on the table, wringing them together. his knuckles and fingers flexed, the veins in the back of his hands popping. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his pale forearms and the large vein that struck out there. you blinked your eyes hard again, not understanding why this only increased the ache in your core and made your hole clench up tight.
your attention was drawn back to the room as everybody began rising from the table, heading to do their tasks for the day. you followed, grabbing leftover books and folders. a hand encircled your upper arm and you came face to face with jj giving you a soft smile. the door clicked behind derek, leaving you and jj alone in the room.
you liked jj. she was a lovely girl. the two of you had quickly become close and she was the first one - besides mr hotchner - to ask you to run an errand that wasn’t coffee. the two of you often gossiped with penelope garcia and sometimes elle greenaway too, the girls more of them than not sharing their ‘sex-capades’ as penelope likes to call it. jj was one of the first to really trust you.
“hey, sit down for me,” she said, sitting in the seat beside you and retracting her hand. you sat down too, following her actions mutely. “you ok? you’ve been a little… out of it. hotch asked me to talk to you.”
you cringed a little at that, not liking how mr hotchner had acknowledged your not-all-there-ness.
“I-I’m fine. I just… dunno. things have been a bit… different lately.” you said, folding your legs and pressing your hands together.
“different?”
“yeah. I just… you know you were telling me about that guy you met. the one who… slept over at your house.” jj chuckled a little at your euphemism but nodded.
“yes, I remember. why, has a guy slept over at your house recently?” excitement gleamed in her eye a little but you quickly shook your head.
“nono! no… but… you remember you said you felt… achey down there? the good achey.” you said and jj slowly nodded.
“well… i’ve just been… feeling that. and… I don’t know what to do about it.” you mumbled. “and… I don’t wanna… touch myself-“ your voice dropped to a whisper and you cleared your throat “-but… it needs to stop.”
jj chuckled a little.
“okaaay, well. do you know what caused it?”
you hesitated before nodding quickly but stayed mute.
“do you… wanna tell me?”
you shook your head quickly.
“right. well. whatever or whoever has turned you on-“ you cringed “-is most likely what will help to get rid of it. and yes, y/n, that means sex.” she chuckled fondly at the way you cringed again. she stood up, placed a hand on your shoulder and kissed your temple lightly. “you’ll be fine, y/n/n. I believe in you.”
and with that, she left the briefing room.
for the rest of the week, the tingle mostly stayed with you. on the jet back to quantico, you sat at the very back, thighs pressed firmly together and head fuzzy. your eyes stared straight ahead but were unseeing and your plush lips were parted but soundless.
your eyes flickered over to the movement in the corner of your eye, catching mr hotchner as he stepped out of the bathroom while shaking his hands to rid them of the lingering water droplets. his eyes met yours and he sent you a quick, fond wink with a smile. you swooned internally at his large presence, wanting nothing but for the older man to swoop you up and-
you stopped yourself and looked away before your thoughts could become any more explicit.
your eyes widened as you realised mr hotchner was walking towards you. he wore a kind smile as he took the seat beside you and placed a hand on your forearm. he gently unclasped your hands as you anxiously wrung them together and moved the one nearest to him to the armrest that separated his and your seats, his large fingers softly encircling your wrist.
“hey, did jj talk to you?” he asked you, voice politely low to keep your conversation private. you could only dumbly nod your head, eyes lost in his. “good, good. is everything ok?”
you actually swooned slightly this time at his protectiveness but managed to force your voice out of your throat.
“u-uh- yeah. I’m fine just… bit of a strange week,” you were glad mr hotchner took your words the way he did, assuming you meant ‘strange’ in regards to this being your first case.
“I agree,” he chuckled. “and an awful unsub to be your first, please understand that not everyone in the world is like that.”
you giggled in response.
“do you need me to grab you anything, sir?” you asked him, wondering why he was taking an interest in your well-being; no older male had ever done that for you. his brow furrowed.
“no, no, I was checking if you’re ok. the health of my team is important to me. you’re important to me, y/n.” his face was full of sincerity as he spoke and his eyes twinkled. your own eyes, on the other hand, threatened to fill with tears as a ball settled in your chest. your throat was suddenly raw and your head ached.
“oh…” was all you could force out.
“y/n, are you ok?” you nodded quickly and bolted to the bathroom, stumbling down the aisle of the jet.
in the toilet, you could feel your breath shortening rapidly. he cared about you. no man had ever said such words to you, and if they had, it was never to your face. but for some reason, you panties felt… sticky. and that familiar ache settled in your core. you tried to muffle your whine of desperation as the feeling returned, desperately trying to figure out just why you were feeling distraught and… turned on, as jj had called it.
once the jet landed, you grabbed your bag from the overhead locker and hurried inside of the bau building to dump everything at your desk. you sat in your desk chair and took a big sigh. mr hotchner had asked you to stay a while in case the team needed anything, so you did just that.
you checked the time on the big clock opposite your desk. 5:34pm. nice, not too late. mr hotchner said the team didn’t take long to debrief after a case, unless fbi time and civilian time worked differently.
which you assumed it did, because the team didn’t leave the briefing room until 6:15. you had pages and pages of notes that mr hotchner had asked you to take.
your distress had passed now, but that ache was refusing to leave. you sat back at your desk and huffed, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to shift the tension elsewhere.
from the desk near yours, derek shot you a quirked brow.
“you ok there, sweet girl?” he asked and you couldn’t help but flush at the nickname.
“I told you not to call me that.” was all you could mumble as you dumped your notepad in your drawer. derek grinned and pushed his chair over, leaning his beefy forearms on the desk.
“why? cuz it makes you all flustered?” he teased. you sat back in your chair and huffed.
“normally, it’s a compliment. but I’m not really in the mood for compliments right now.” you sighed, pushing a bouncy ball penelope had given you around your desk. you gently flicked it to him and he stopped it with his fingers before flicking it back. the two of you played the little game of rolling the ball between each other as you talked.
“why? cuz you all frustrated?” he smirked and you frowned, still not lifting your eyes to his.
“I’m not frustrated, I’m just… flat.” you said and he chuckled.
“no, no, I mean… sexually frustrated.” you blushed a deeper red at his words and sat up straight in your chair.
“I-I am not! shush!” you scooped the ball up in your fingers and bounced it against his forehead. he flinched slightly and chuckled with a grin.
“come on, the whole bau can see you got it bad for hotch. we’re behavioural analysts. and, if it helps, he’s got it bad for you too.” he winked at you and bounced the ball across the desk to you.
“no he doesn’t.” you grumbled as you swung your chair side-to-side slightly. derek chuckled again and rolled his eyes.
“whatever you say, sweet girl,” he grinned, winking again before he rolled his chair back to his desk. you frowned, easily seeing that he didn’t believe you.
eventually, people began drifting home. penelope was the first to leave, humming a tune and loudly calling goodbye as she went. then it was jj, and then derek. gideon left soon after, quickly followed by elle, leaving you and spencer in the bullpen.
mr hotchner was tucked away in his office working on some paperwork. he had come down a few times while the team were dispersing to refill his mug and grab a snack. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his tie loosened. his forearms were on display, that one vein running down making your head foggy.
at one point, as the temperature in the bullpen dropped as the night went on, he had noticed your shivering and draped his blazer around you. he had stood over you with a fond smile as he helped you slip your arms into the blazer. your cheeks had flushed red and you were unable to tear your eyes from his. once he’d walked off, spencer had thrown you a look before quickly looking back to his folder.
the action had once again settled an ache in your core, your entrance clenching tight as his scent invaded your senses. you fought every urge tugging at your nerves to bring the blazer up to your nose and inhale.
“night, y/n,” spencer said with a quick open-handed wave before he clutched his satchel to his stomach and left.
“see ya later, spencer,” you smiled at him as he walked away. the elevator dinged, indicating his descent, leaving you and mr hotchner alone in the building.
you glanced over your shoulder to his office. the blinds were drawn and soft light spilled from beneath the crack of his door. you sighed, fiddling with the hem of his blazer. you sighed and turned back to your computer screen, looking at the game of solitaire you were playing to distract yourself from your throbbing and wet core. you glanced at the clock on the bottom of your screen, 9:54pm. damn… a few minutes later, mr hotchner’s door opened and his footsteps descended the stairs.
“spencer went home?” he asked. you hummed in response, tearing your eyes away from the cards automatically flitting up to their correct spaces and giving him a smile. mr hotchner smiled as he saw your screen. “nice game.”
“thanks, beat my record.” you suddenly blushed. “sorry, I shouldn’t be playing games on company time.”
“that’s quite alright.” mr hotchner said with a smile, leaning on the edge of your desk and folding his arms. “you don’t have any tasks to do.”
you would’ve nodded, if you weren’t too distracted by the sight of his arms almost right in front of your face. you shifted in your seat as your core throbbed with heat and your mouth suddenly filled with saliva.
“y/n?…” the sound of mr hotchner’s deep voice calling you back to reality snapped you from your trance.
“I-I’m sorry- I- I was distracted-“ “y/n, are you horny right now?”
your mind blanked. you stared at his face with a surprised expression, your brows raised and lips parted. you couldn’t think, only embarrassment coiling in your chest.
“I-…” you trailed off, not finding the words to answer your boss’s such blunt question. your core ached again, however, and you could feel wetness gush into your panties. his fingertips gently grasped your jaw and he leaned down to you a little.
“I asked you a question, y/n,” he commanded with a slight smirk, clearly enjoying the power imbalance between the two of you. you swallowed and tried to fight the feeling of your eyes glazing over. “are. you. horny?”
“I am.” your voice came out in a whisper.
“what was that? I’m gonna need you to speak up, sweetheart.”
“I am. I-I’m horny, sir,” mr hotchner’s smirk grew at your words and his fingers caressed your jaw.
“good girl! using her big girl words.” you lapped up the praise tumbling from his lips and subconsciously shuffled closer. he chuckled at this. “so eager. you want your big boss to help you?”
“please…” your hand came up to hold his wrist as he squished your cheeks in one big hand and gently tilted your head up a little further. he hummed in faux sympathy before chuckling.
“come to my office. i’m going to sit down and you’re going to lock the door and close the blinds.” his hand moved to cup your cheek before he went to sit behind his desk.
you scrambled to fulfill his order, hurrying quickly after him. you stood at the door, fingers fumbling around the lock before darting to pull at the blinds. the warmth between your legs was now hot and poking at your untouched hole.
“sit.” mr hotchner ordered, gesturing to the seat before his desk. you did so, pressing yourself into the plush cushions. “now. let’s talk about what you’re comfortable with before we start. what kind of things are you into?”
your mind blanked.
how did you know what you were into if you’ve never done anything?…
HERE YOU GO SORRY ITS SO LATE!!!
PART TWO WILL BE LINKED HERE 🩷🩷
491 notes · View notes
syrma-sensei · 4 months
Text
→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.
Tumblr media
gif credit.
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: explicit.
warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...
word count: 3.4k
summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...
taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...
A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️
Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.
“Perfect.”
Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.
You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.
A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.
“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.
You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”
“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.
Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.
You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.
But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.
To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.
Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.
To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.
Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.
No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.
You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.
Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.
The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.
On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.
Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.
Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.
You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.
Soldier Boy finally found the one!
Your heart paced up with each press.
A long awaited power couple is now here!
Vought just shocked the world by—
And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…
It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.
“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.
Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”
You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.
Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”
Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.
You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.
“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”
You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.
Tumblr media
“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.
With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.
An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?
“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.
You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.
“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.
You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”
You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”
He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.
“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 
“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”
“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.
“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”
Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”
“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”
His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.
Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”
You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.
“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?
You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.
“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.
You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.
“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”
You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.
A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.
You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”
Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”
Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”
“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”
“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”
That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.
“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.
With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.
He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”
You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”
Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”
He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.
“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.
God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.
“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”
You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.
He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.
“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”
Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”
You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”
Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”
“Assholes,” You whispered.
“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.
You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.
“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.
“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.
“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”
“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”
Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”
“Try me.”
725 notes · View notes
colourstreakgryffin · 3 months
Note
Hii could I request Alastor x fem(or gn if you don't write fem)reader who is part of vees?? Like imagine meeting where velvet and Carmilla got into fight so can you do that but with reader and maybe like after meeting how it looked?
Hehe! I write female and how ironic is that, whilst I love Hazbin Hotel, I haven’t gotten the chance to watch the show since I am motherless broke and waiting for all of it to go onto YouTube so I am gonna have to guess this shit! Once again… kinda short, sorry!
Alastor- Little Mistake
Tumblr media
Alastor has always thoroughly disliked the Vs of the Overlords. Vox is obnoxious and egoistical, Valentino is sensual and annoying, Velvette is bratty and loud. But you… you’re not that bad. You’re the only V that doesn’t get under his skin and he does find you interesting so, throughout most Overlord meetings, he always sideyes you whilst you’re besides Velvette to see how you’ll respond to Carmilla
And respond to Carmilla you did. Making it a big song and dance that you don’t need to respect a fellow Overlord. Overlords barely respect one another so you don’t feel obligated in the slightest to respect her, which caused much friction throughout the other Overlords and deemed the meeting over
Alastor was amused by all of it. You’re much more calm, level-headed, less loud and sophisticated as compared to your fellow Vs and you’ve proven to Alastor that you do have quite the rebellious spirit and are determined to stick to your beliefs
He is impressed. He likes that
You just made a boring, insignificant meeting about ten thousand times better by beginning to argue with Carmilla over her statements and choices, and now, Alastor is hookline sinker for what is about to happen
Alastor may or may not rub you embarrassing yourself in front of your Vs and the Overlords in your face after everybody exits the meeting room and he tracks you down effortlessly, mainly thanks to his incredible shadow magic
Everybody else is so tense and avoiding you, cringing out of their skin at your lashout to their head… except the Vs, who are cheering your stand-up on whilst Alastor is already parting from the group to speak to you about what he wants to speak about
Those piercing crimson red eyes basically glare into your soul as he proclaims with a smirk. He expresses that he doesn’t hate you like he hates your fellow Vs
“I thought you were a good girl~ that wasn’t how good girls behave, my dear”
You don’t even want to hear it from him so you already attempt to regroup with the Vs(who are all proud of you, may I say) but Alastor has other plans and he doesn’t plan for this conversation to be cut so short so rudely, so he steals away you and your time. Is he in love with you? Well, he definitely likes you more than he’ll ever admit
“Oh. You’re so inconsiderate, darling. I was speaking to you and you just turned your back. That is not ladylike at all, don’t you want to give me, at least, a smile~?”
Needless to say, Alastor did indeed both find your butting heads with Carmilla Carmine very amusing, very interesting, very fun to poke fun at and especially… quite attractive— oh god. Did he actually think that? He did. He cannot believe how quickly a simple Overlord like yourself, a member of the Vs, have managed to make him smitten in any fashion
Alastor will make his amusement over your fight with Carmilla obvious, he presses you against the wall and speaks with the radio effects on full blast to make sure you pay attention and whilst he’ll shut out your fellow Vs, he’ll make you look at him and acknowledge him
Alastor teases you nonstop through the maybe 20-30 minutes he took talking to you about the incident in that big room. He openly expresses how much he enjoyed a good girl like you going bad but he hopes you stay obedient when you come to the Hotel. You don’t know what he is blabbering on about, though, Alastor knows you’re too good for the Vs and you’ll come to get redeemed any day now
And when that day comes, he will happy rub it more into your face. Maybe, give that face a bit of a kiss before sending you off
“Ah. Ah~ it’s not creepy, it’s acknowledgment. Creepy would be me following you around all the time. I was merely entranced by your behaviours and may I say, you’re better than those mindless idiotic Overlords you associate yourself with”
348 notes · View notes
sinsandsweetness · 8 months
Note
💿 I was thinking maybe Daryl and consensual somnophilia ? If that’s alright?
cw- somnophilia. proceed with caution.
18+ below the cut
You’re so fucking close to him. He can’t help the way his body’s reacting. Sharing a sleeping bag as an attempt to keep warm in the crisp autumn evening. It’s working. Oh boy, is it ever working. He’s warm. Hot even. Burning up at the feeling of your ass pressed to his crotch. And not to mention, he’s rock solid. Trying his absolute hardest not to move his hips against you but goddamn, you’re not making it easy. The way you’re pushing back on him in your sleep…
You are asleep. He knows that. You don’t want him. It’s just your body reacting to his. To the closeness. At least that’s what he tells himself.
What he wouldn’t give to pull your pretty little pyjama pants down and fuck you sideways til the sun comes up.
“Mmhm,”
He freezes at the sound of your moan. Was he rocking too hard? Did he wake you up from the throbbing tent in his pants?
But as he listens closely, he can still hear that soft, adorable snore coming from your nose. At the realization, his shoulders relax and he nuzzles his face into your neck.
He knows he’d be way too scared to touch you like this if you were awake. The way he’s breathing in your scent, with his lips brushing your neck. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. Against his painfully hard, swollen erection. The one that’s probably leaking through his flannel pyjama pants if he had the courage to turn around and feel. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to know if it’s true. The thought alone makes him cringe. God, he feels pathetic. The only time he can show you what you mean to him is when you aren’t even awake to see it. To feel it. Well… you can feel it. But you’re not aware of it. You’re not even conscious.
The hand around your waist trails lower. Reaching the thin band of your sleep pants, Daryl starts to fidget with the flimsy drawstring. Fighting the temptation to slip his hand underneath and rub you over your panties. Show him how much you really mean to him.
He shouldn’t. He knows better. But for some reason it doesn’t stop him from grinding further into your ass. Squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling, doing everything in his power not to moan right in your ear.
His stomach drops when he feels your hand grab his. The one fidgeting with your drawstrings. His mouth gets all dry and he feels like he’s about to throw up. That is, until you press his hand further down, guiding his touch to your cotton covered cunt.
He’s frozen. Confused. Heart racing so hard he can feel it against the pillow. He can hear his blood pumping through his damn arteries.
You moved. He knows you’re still asleep. He’d put money on it. But you fucking moved his hand in your sleep and now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.
His temptations get the best of him and slowly, he starts to rub lazy circles over your clit. Soft, tired mumbles begin to leave your throat. No words, just faint, sleepy sounds. Groans and whimpers. Subconsciously asking for more. Begging for some form of release.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. Continuing to grind into your ass. Slow as his body will let him. He can already feel his orgasm starting to build. Dick throbbing as he uses your cheeks. Chasing the sweet friction of your warmth against his cock.
He can’t help himself. He doesn’t even want to. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up yet, and it’s giving him this rush of adrenaline that has him wondering what else he can get away with. What else you can manage to sleep through.
That’s when he slips his hands under your waist band. Under your panties too. The pad of his middle finger immediately going to glide up through your drooling slit. Already soaking with arousal.
Shit.
Your warm cunt practically invites him in. He starts pumping to the same rhythm as his thrusts against your ass. You let out a moan at the feeling of his thick digits hitting your sweet spot.
Fuck. He buries himself into your neck as he fingers you. He doesn’t even want to see if he woke you up. You’re not stopping him. So you mustn’t have an issue, on the off chance that you are awake.
You’re still gripping the arm that’s wrapped around you, muscles flexing against your touch as his fingers work their borderline magic below the covers. You feel yourself drifting in and out of that drowsy state between awake and asleep. Feeling the warmth encompass you as your orgasm starts to flow through you. A wave of dreamlike pleasure erupting from your core as the man’s hips from behind you start to stutter. Cumming right there in his pyjama pants. His movements slow to a halt as he’s forced to come to terms with what he’s done. His eyes are still closed. Too scared to look up and see your pretty ones looking back at him. So with his blue eyes closed, he gently removes his hands from your panties, still dripping with your creamy substances.
It’s hitting him. The fact that he just made you come. And he’s starting to feel guilty, the feeling quickly forcing him to come down from his high. Stomach beginning to churn as his heart rate speeds up once again.
Just turn around and go to sleep.
He listens to the voice in his head. Trying his best to turn over without making a sound. Without bothering your limp body laying next to him.
He lifts his fingers to his mouth and he’s convinced he could come again from the taste of you.
Within a few minutes, he starts to doze off, facing the dark, mesh siding of the tent. He feels you rustle beside him in the sleeping bag. Flipping around and snaking an arm around his own waist. Quickly settling your body against his back. Cuddling up like his puzzle piece and tucking your chin on his shoulder.
You press a sweet kiss right below his ear and mumble a quiet, “g’night, D.”, into his skin.
And to avoid the humiliation that rapidly shoots up his core and burns like a fire across his whole face, he decides that it’s probably his turn to pretend to be asleep.
977 notes · View notes
shebreathedherlast · 2 months
Text
Daughter of the Sea
Part III
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Quest
Luke Castellan x f!reader
Summary: You wake up in the infirmary with a horrifying surprise.
Work Count: 1.6k
TW: Brief memory loss, weapons, mean Luke, broken bones
. .・゜゜・・゜゜・.. ・゚゚・。. .・゜゜・・゜゜・.. ・゚゚・。. .・゜゜・.
When your eyes fluttered open, you were unable to see. Everything around you seemed to be screaming. You pushed your weight onto your elbows as you desperately gaged your surroundings. With your vision blurred you sought for any semblance of familiarity.
Your head was pounding and your arm ached terribly. What in the gods happened? You sifted through your memories, raising your hand to cradle your head when the pain became nearly unbearable.
Footsteps scuffled towards you and your heart rate accelerated. “She’s awake!” A voice called.
You turned your head to the origin of the voice, but with your blurred vision, everything only fused together.
You made out a tuft of blonde curls and you instantly knew you would be safe. The figure made its way to you, placing a delicate blanket across your shoulders. They carried what you assumed was a tray of food.
They called your name and your head tilted up to meet their words. “Will?”
“gods, how are you feeling? Is there anywhere else that hurts?” He asked
You shook your head in confusion, “Will, what are you talking about?”
The Apollo kid furrowed his brows. An expression you couldn’t quite place fell over his features. “You’ve been in the infirmary for an entire night.” He told you.
“What?” You question, as you burrow your fists in the linen sheets to ground you.
“Do you not remember what happened yesterday?”
Your vision cleared as the events from yesterday seemed to piece themselves together.
A single infuriated word flitted from your lips, “Castellan” you growled.
Will gave you a quizzical look, “Oh so you do remember.”
Anger radiated off you. Yesterday Luke Castellan had practically robbed you of your much-deserved glory. He had humiliated and belittled you and in order to spare some semblance of dignity you were forced to break your arm. Yes, you remembered everything.
“Where is that thieving son of Hermes?” You demanded.
Will shook his head in disapproval. He turned back to the tray and returned with a bowl of steaming hot chicken noodle soup. “Is that what happened? Another one of your qualms with Luke? Seriously?”
You shruggled in response, too preoccupied to give Will an answer. You were busy thinking up all the ways you could make Luke suffer.
“You two really need to get over your whole sworn enemies thing and act like grown-ups. It gives me secondhand embarrassment watching you two fight like entitled toddlers.”
You gawked at him, “Will, I’m only seventeen, I’m not a grown-up.”
And at your comment, both of you laughed. Will was one of those guys that everyone was able to get along with. He had this easy going persona complimented by his humor that had him making friends wherever he went.
“You’re legitimately the biggest idiot I know.” He said.
And who were you to deny the truth?
“I wouldn’t exactly disagree,” You replied, an amused smile painted against your lips.
Will didn’t further the conversation, opting instead to spoon-feed you the warm broth. He gave you another drink of ambrosia before deeming that you would live.
“Thank you, Will…I really appreciate all you’re doing for me.”
Will waved his hand, dismissing your gratitude. “You won’t be saying that when I send you the bill.”
You chuckled shaking your head as you made your way out of the infirmary bed, dressing behind a curtain. Will was walking away and you had just finished pulling on your shorts as loud footsteps rang down the hall.
“You still there?” Will’s voice came from behind the curtain barrier. You pulled the fabric to the side as you stepped into the hall. “Uh…yeah”
He audibly sighed. “Good, because apparently, you're going on a quest in three hours.”
“WHAT?” You gasped.
Will cringed at your response, “Yeah, sorry that you had to find out this way but Clarisse got word of a quest from Ares and she chose the two best half-blood warriors to go with her. I’m sure you can guess what I mean by that.”
A million thoughts came crashing down on you. First, you were going to set out on your very first quest. Second, Clarisse saw you as a powerful ally and that could be useful in the future and third, the only other person besides you and Clarisse who would be addressed as “one of the best half-blood warriors” was none other than…Luke Castellan.
You huffed in anger, your fists balling at your sides. It was just your luck, Castellan, the one who had got you into this whole infirmary situation was going to ruin your first-ever quest.
Tyche must have really hated you.
. .・゜゜・・゜゜・.. ・゚゚・。. .・゜゜・・゜゜・.. ・゚゚・。. .・゜゜・.
Less than an hour and a half later you were packed and ready to go. Though you were forced to endure the torturous presence of Castellan, you were determined to not allow him to get to you. This time the stakes were too high and the mission too important.
Well, that was your resolution until you saw his face.
You practically saw red as you lunged forward ready to strangle the Hermes boy. Clarisse had to step in and physically restrain you from tearing Luke limb from limb.
“I’m gonna kill you, Castellan!” You shout, “You’re dead! Do you hear me? You're dead!”
Clarisse set you down fifteen feet from Luke (what she deemed a safe distance to talk some sense into you without you going on a blood-lust rampage for the Hermes boy).
“In the name of Olympus, what in the world is wrong with you?”
You scoffed, “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I think you should be asking that question to that thieving piece of-” It was at that moment that you heard Chiron clear his throat, and you shrank back, swallowing your insult.
Luke approached you with an amused grin, hands raised in the air. He was mocking you. Of course he was, you wouldn’t expect anything less from him.
“As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m gonna claw your eyes out, Castellan.” You seeth.
He tsked, tilting his head slightly, “And a good morning to you too, Chaos.”
Your jaw clenched as every fibre in your body told you to beat the boy before you into a pulp.
“Clarisse,” you whine, “please let me separate his stupid face from this hideous body.”
Clarisse shakes her head to tell you “no.”
You sigh, defeated.
Luke curls an arm around your shoulder, “Oh come on, Chaos, don’t you want another chance to win back your glory?”
You hated the boy before you. You hated him and you don’t think you’d mind it one bit if he so happened to fall off a cliff to his impending death. In fact, you think that you might even enjoy the show.
Clarisse rolled her eyes at the both of you, “Enough! You two need to stop this insufferable fighting and start focusing on the quest, because if you two don’t suck it up and start at least tolerating each other, I have absolutely no problem choosing two other skilled half-bloods to replace you.”
At this you and Luke instantly shut your mouths and glanced at each other.
Then it hit you, he wanted this as much as you did.
“Good.” Clarisse said, “Now I want both of you to hug it out and shake hands, promising that you’ll be on your best behaviour for my quest.”
You furrowed your brows, mouth agape. “Hug it out? Clarisse are you serious?”
“Absolutely.” She replied, pointedly.
Luke cocked his head, “You’ve got to be joking. It’s not like we’re five.”
The Ares kid raised her eyebrows in a taunting expression, “Are you sure about that?”
Luke rolled his eyes.
“K, let’s go now, stop tryna be the mediator Clarisse. Chaos and I are not “hugging it out” like pre-schoolers.” He spoke, a hint of annoyance coating his tone.
“Um sorry to break it to you buddy, but if you two wanna come on this quest with me then you better start doing as I say.”
Clarisse was defiantly being manipulative. She was the one who picked the two of you and now she was placing all these conditions on your shoulders.
After a minute of silence, Luke consented, rolling his eyes again. “Come here my sweet little, Chaos.” He said in an exaggerated voice like he was talking to a baby.
You glared at Clarisse, before trudging over to Luke, who wrapped his arms securely behind your neck, burying you into his chest. When you didn’t reciprocate he brought his lips to hover over your ear, “Chaos, you gotta at least pretend to like me, or else big scary Clarisse here is gonna send you back, and I know you don’t want that, do you?” His whispers sent shivers down your shoulders and eventually, (after a harsh glare from Clarisse) you conseeded and wrapped your arms around Luke’s waist.
His head practically nuzzled your hair and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh in contentment.
To emphasize how much you two would get along Luke slowly began rocking side to side while continuing to keep his hold on you.
Clarisse smiled in approval.
You stood on your tippy toes and even then you barely reached his ear, “Luke,” you whispered.
“Yes, Chaos?” He asked gently.
“I still hate you.” And with that, you pushed him back. He stumbled a little before quickly regaining his footing.
“I wouldn’t expect any less.” He mumbled under his breath.
As you ran to catch up with Clarisse, Luke stood still, because whatever happened he knew that this quest was going to challenge him beyond belief.
----
A/n This is more of a filler chapter so hang in there for the next update <3
Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant @moonykai @sflame15-blog @hoesindifferentshows @gloryekaterina @dakotali @notjustsomeblonde @silkenthusiasts @kanej-and-wesper-supremacy @ren-isdone @ashisabitgay @tsukiko26 @niktwazny303 @idgxitciycouv
236 notes · View notes
rayroseu · 2 months
Text
Now that I think about it, maybe the reason why Malleus' Magic is so powerful, because before he was born he was copiously sustained with powerful magicians like Meleanor, Maleficia, and Lilia.
Tumblr media
The egg is born through love but only through magic can that egg finally hatch (that's where Lilia exhausted his magic). Maybe a fae's power is determined to how much magic can their parents "exhaust" in making them born(?).
So, essentially, His magic consists of the magic of powerful mages.
1) Meleanor (as his biological mother),
2) Maleficia (her magic was life support while he was incubated),
and 3) Lilia (who hatched him).
So when we fight Malleus, we are not just simply fighting "Malleus" himself, but rather a lethal culmination of Meleanor, Maleficia, and Lilia's raw power.
That's why it feels so impossible to defeat him because we're essentially fighting three powerful magicians at once, it's just in the form of "Malleus Draconia."
All these magicians have high-profile powerful magic, and all of them are faes too. I often assumed that Malleus was rich in magic because he's a Draconia but no, Meleanor used her full magical strength as well but the story didn't showcase her casting some world altering magic like stopping time and encasing human souls inside a magical barrier— Only Malleus did...
Maybe there's really no person who can defeat him as STYX theorizes... Not even Maleficia. While its true she's powerful, but based on this interpretation, she can fight Malleus, but fighting Malleus is also the same as fighting her magic, mixed with Meleanor's and Lilia's (and Levan's even though we don't know how powerful he is).
Levan is Malleus' father but so far the story doesn't imply nor mention any significant magical contribution he did to Malleus. The only thing mentioned in the story about Levan's influence was that Malleus is a kind/gentle person because of him.
I like to interpret he's powerful too! So maybe, its not just Meleanor, Maleficia, Lilia, but also Levan.... if he got the chance to bless Eggmalleus some magic before he lost. So its actually FIVE HIGH CLASS MAGICIANS were fighting against if we fight Malleus ☠️☠️ That's why he's truly "god-like".
Tumblr media
I really like the fact that Malleus is undefeatable even by raw power or raw cleverness (like using technology). I know that's still going to be a big part, but its more intriguing for me to how TWST will handle stopping Malleus without obvious offense.
They'll only need to rely on one thing that humans are really great of practicing (more than faes): communication. Maybe the solution may be as simple as talking to Malleus that he needs to stop lol Because really, at this point, thats the most staple choice we have, anything else takes too much time💔😔
Not in the accusing way, but in a kind and understanding way. But, I know that's unlikely to happen knowing how "cringed" NRC is towards displaying kindness (which is often their downfall lol). But remember, the resolution at the fairy gala event? Where everyone was antagonizing the Diurnal Fairies, assuming they'll be stubborn and that they're thieves so they should take the stone without asking them, but then it turns out once they got caught and Silver talked with them apologetically and with understandingly, the Queen understood it and let the stone go...
Maybe Malleus would act like that Queen too?? After all, no one still talks with him about how "indeed, it is painful to suffer and lost, but there's merit in their existence, so we don't need to cut them out of our lives, because even those painful experiences helps us achieve our true dreams." or just a simple "You won't be alone even if Lilia passes away. I'm sure Lilia will be more happy to live his life and live it longer because he'll be remembered by Malleus even if he's just a memory now." or maybe a blunt "The world doesn't revolve around anyone, so Malleus has no rights to dictate how we should live our lives" lol
I feel like Malleus is just a person who never really thinks about other interpretations unless its been said to him... That's why I'm wishing that Book 7 resolves his overblot by not fully painting him as a "catastrophic dark fae" (like what the humans viewed Meleanor), like there'll be a balance between depicting him as a villain but also as a flawed person.
But yes I do agree that the biggest hurdle in defeating Malleus, may not just be his overpowered magic, but also his defiance in believing that he can understand humanity and humanity will understand him 😭😭
Tumblr media
332 notes · View notes
1800-lemonadeg1rl · 24 days
Text
Jealousy
Tumblr media
Wanda Maximoff x reader ☆
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - pretty much is what it says on the tin. After you try to avoid your crush you find jealousy eating at you.
Warnings: stupid, possibly cringe, maybe a little angst? Idrk, happy ending, jealousy, gay,
A/n: this is the first fic I've written since I was thirteen and I did it just to avoid being involved with my parents fight. Also my grammar probably isn't that great bc I haven't slept in 2 days so pls comment any corrections. Any feedback is so so appreciated
Tumblr media
You didn't know when it had started. How even. But you had somehow become infatuated with fellow avenger and best friend Wanda maximoff. To put it simply you had a crush on her, a stupid schoolgirl crush that was beginning to crash down on your friendship with her.
It was small things at first, avoiding eye contact so you wouldn't blush under her gaze or not sitting next to her at meals. Next it was finding reasons not to hang out alone.
Little to your knowledge Wanda had noticed all these things and had begun to wonder if she'd upset you in someway that maybe you didn't like her the way she'd always admired you. She tried to approach you to go out for lunch to try and apologise for whatever she thought you were upset about but before she'd had chance to speak you'd scurried off saying something about needing to train.
And so life went on for Wanda as heartbroken she was that you seemed to want to distance the close friendship youd shared that she'd once thought could be more she didn't want to spend forever alone and crushed.
Thats when your jealousy started.
"Yeah the date actually went really well last night." You'd heard the sweet sokovian accent ring out across the kitchen as you'd shuffled into get your breakfast. Still half asleep you mumbled as you poured a coffee.
"You've got a date?" It came out a little more territorial than you'd intended. Despite your small efforts to dissipate your crush on the woman you were still annoyed at whoever thought they could date the girl you liked, that you should be with.
Not that you were looking at her but Wandas face seemed to light up when you initiated a conversation with her. After weeks of dead silence she'd want nothing more than to hear your voice which she'd describe as honey like and melodic to the ears.
"Yes, yes I am. A second one actually." You could feel your face redden slightly and twitch in annoyance at the words that left Wanda's lips. A second?! Not only had she had one date with someone else it had gone so well they wanted a second.
"You shouldn't go out with them." The words leave your lips quicker than you can stop them. And you look to see Wanda's face, her mouth open wide as her bottom lip twitched slightly.
Shit. You'd upset her. You'd upset the girl you loved. "I... I.. I mean.." You stammered through your sentence trying to find an exscuse for what you'd said. "I just mean.. your an avenger you should do a background check on them first and.. uh.. make sure you know they're legit and not a spy or something." After saying that you quickly fled the kitchen leaving your full cup of coffee much to the confusion of Wanda who'd had just about enough of the way you were acting.
That evening you were in your room catching up on a drama you'd originally started with Wanda but since you'd decided youd ruined your friendship beyond recovery you wanted to finish it yourself.
Then came a small delicate knock on the door. That was how Wanda knocked. Oh god you recognised how she knocked now, how would you ever get over her?
"I'm working go awa-.." You tried to get out quickly at the door as you rapidly turned the tv down and hoped she'd leave you alone.
Before you were even done your sentence she'd interuppted and responded. "Don't say another word. I can hear killing eve (srry I can't think of another tv show) playing in there. Let me in so we can talk."
You waited a beat thinking about the small list options you had right now to avoid the confrontation at your door, none of which would work or were very smart and would probably be more embarrassing than admitting the truth. So reluctantly you let her in. Twisting the handle slowly giving her all the time she needed to change her mind and leave.
Unfortunately that didn't happen and instead she waited patiently before heading over to your bed a flopping down on it in the ever so casual way she used to. As if no time has passed.
"Okay speak. Tell me whats wrong? What did I do to you?" She asks looking up at you with what looks like anger? No, no it was hurt. Everything from her wide watery eyes to her sweaty palms read that she was hurt and was nervous to why you'd been avoiding her.
"Its not you." Was all you could manage to spit out in the moment. Why had you even avoided her so much when all it had done was harm your best friend.
"Okay so what is it?"
She was relentless, she wasn't going to leave until you explained yourself and your recent actions. Being honest you couldn't blame her if it was the other way round you'd want to know.
"I..." You stare at her gorgeous face eyes flicking between her plump lips and her soft, glimmering eyes even in this moment struggling to make eye contact with her without a blush spreading across your cheeks. "I like you.. as like more than friends."
You watched on as her face contorted. The way she bit the inside of her cheek and her soft eyes hardening in time with your admittal. The hurt was long gone and replaced with an annoyance that you had blanked her instead of admitting your feelings but also a small glimmer of hope that it wasn't too late for you two.
"So what? You didn't think to tell me." She gets up from the bed. "Your rational descion was to ignore me in hopes of what?!" She was pacing now. "In hopes of what?" She repeats and suddenly your also stood up trying to open your mouth to speak but she won't give you the time. "In hopes I'd dissappear or your feelings would and we could just be friends again?"
Meekly you nodded. You had ignored her to try and make your feelings go away.
"Did you not think about me? Maybe I wanted you to have feelings for me. Maybe I want to be with you." She was speaking again and nearing you with each word.
"I.. didn't think you liked me like that.. I thought that you'd hate me."you try and explain my poor actions. "Look I'm really sorry.. I didn't know you felt like this about me."
You grab her arm forcing her to stop angrily pacing around the room and to talk to you again hoping it would calm her slightly. "..please I am. I'm really sorry Wanda.. I've missed speaking to you so much, I've missed you so much." Your further apologies seem to lessen her anger as she realises what you had done was unintentional and you'd never meant to cause this.
"You can make it up to me then."
"How?" She was offering to forgive you and that was enough. You'd do anything to stop her being angry with you ever again.
"Take me on a date."
A/n - I can write a pt 2 or follow up if anyone is interested <33
170 notes · View notes
he-goes-down · 4 months
Note
Hiiiiii!! I was wondering if you’d do a Axl x Reader fic we’re Axl is feeling down so he steals one of the readers plushies and cuddles with it until the reader finds him like that and then makes him feel better somehow then they like have happy, silly sex? Btw love your works sweetheart…💗💗💗
OMG THATS SO CUTE
ILY SO MUCH AAAAA
If you cringe from the silly things you have permission to slap me
Masterlist
Pairing: Axl Rose x reader
Human Nature
Tumblr media
Warnings: fluff and smut, unprotected p in v, silly sex
Second person POV:
It had been a few weeks of you working busily, this meant you were in your little study at home 24/7, only coming out to eat and go to the bathroom, occasionally Axl would come in and bring you food and peck on the cheek. You would be so tired after work you’d sleep on the little couch in the room. Which Axl would also walk in and put a blanket over you, kissing your forehead. But then again some days you had interaction with him at all, like from you working as he was out of the house and sleeping when he got home, ect.
Though you hadn’t realised how hard not seeing you was affecting Axl.
He’d walk sometimes throughout the day, when you were on a call with your boss, into the lounge put on your favourite show, hoping you would show up and watch with him, although he did watch the full show anyway and record it for yo. He also walk into the bedroom and lie on your side of the bed, head on your pillow and smelling your scent that meant so much to him and made his heartbeat fast. Sometimes as-well as scrounging through your perfumes, dresses and makeup. Trying to relieve experiences of him watching you as you got dressed for something fancy, but always falling with the makeup and the dresses being a bit too small. Although you and him did have a few times where you put him inna dress and did his makeup. He wanted those times back.
You were finally done with half of your big project and your manager called to say that the rest if the team will do the next bit, meaning you could finally relax. Stretching as you got up from your chair with a big sigh, you head to the door of the study and opened it. Right now you needed a hug and some love. Searching for your boyfriend in the living room, not there, in the kitchen, not there. Heading to your guys bedroom, that you haven’t stepped into in ages. You saw your boyfriend laying on your side of the bed, cuddling one of your favourite stuffed toys. His eyes closed, his face implanted into the back of the plushie. Holding it like how he’d hold you when you slept and cuddled at night. Your heart sank seeing him miss you like this. You went over to the bed side and sat next to him, lightly snoring as you gripped the plushie tighter unconsciously. You began to softly rub his back and call for him. “Axl honey…” you said softly. Squeezing the plushie again as his brows knit, thinking that you were calling him in his dream. “Baby…” he whispered to himself in his sleep. “Ax.” You said shaking him lightly and kissing his cheek. “Hm?” He groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His heart nearly jumping out of his chest when he saw you. Throwing the plushie to god know where. You giggled at his embarrassed state. God you missed this man. He didn’t know what to say for a second but you just kissed him. He kissed back with desperation, taking you by the waist and pulling you to lie next to him. He broke the kiss and just held you close and tight to his chest. His chin placed on the top of your head. Squeezing his eyes shut, as he squeezed you. “I missed you so much.” He spoke and adding a joke saying “ I can’t believe you left me for 3 years to go fight off in the war.” You giggled at his response, he always did that even if you were gone grocery shopping for an hour. “ I missed you too.” You said softly. Both of you missed each others bodies, romantically. Missed cuddling, missed staring into each others eyes, kissing, holding hands. He began to leave pepper kisses all over your face. Making your giggle at the ticklish feeling, you felt his smile against your face as you laughed at his actions. “I missed this pretty face.” He said kissing your forehead. He took your leg making it hook around his waist and bringing you closer to him. If he could he would crawl under your skin and live there forever. He need to be in you.
You felt him becoming hard under you as he thought of another kind of being inside of you. You breathed in as you felt yourself blush and wetness beging to pool down there. He kissed you and then kissed your neck, nibbling on the skin. You laughed again at the ticklish feeling, this time it sending shocks through your body and you began to grind on Axl’s tent. He gasped at the action. Now his hand going to your hip, giving it a squeeze. “What’ you think you doing huh?” He smirked as he gave light chuckle. “Nothing…” you gave an innocent smile, “Mhm.” He playfully rolled his eyes and kissed you. Both of you closing your eyes as you faded into the now lustful kiss. Soon you were both undressing each-other. It’s the Axl Rose effect. You in only your under wear and him as-well. He unclasped your bra, breaking off from your kiss and putting your bra on his bare chest. “I think I need a bigger size. Don’t you?” He looked up at you after inspecting your bra. You chuckled, taking the bra from him and throwing it somewhere. He laughed as well and began to kiss you again. Axl’s hand moved from your back where your bra was to your hips and peeling off your panties off your legs. His fingers going back up your legs, his index and middle doing a walking man movement on your skin before he gripped your hips, and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit whilst he grinded his clothed hard dick on your pussy. Your wetness spilling over onto the fabric of his underwear. “Your boxers have a bit of a stain on it, I think you have to take them off.” You said smiling as you kissed each other. “I think so.” He responded and took of his now lightly soak underwear. His dick lightly slapping your wet cunt as it got off it’s restraints. You sighed at it and Axl took the queue to tease his tip on your folds. Purposely missing your soaking cunt as his tip moved up and down your pussy. You whined, wanting him in you already. “Ax, please.” You groaned, your back arching as your body ached for his dick. “Is this what you want?” He queried as his cock slowly entered your tight pussy. Your hands sprung to his back, clawing and scratching as he thrusted into you unprompted. He groaned, his hips bucking into you, “Fuck” his low curse rang through your ear as he thrusted into you more harshly. Making you moan his name, and with that praise he fucked you even harder.
“Axl- fuck-… cum- I’m gonna-“ you moaned loudly, sounding like a broken record as you came over his dick. Mumbling and sighing as he was still driving his dick in and out of you. His thrusts getting more uneven, as your orgasm made your pussy even tighter which made his dick begin to squeeze out an orgasm. “God baby- I’m gonna cum in you.” He groaned and panted lowly before he shot cum into your aching pussy. Sighing as he came down from his high. Pulling out and letting his cum spill out of you and onto the sheets. “Shit. How do we explain that to the dry cleaners.” He joked. Kissing you, always smiling against your lips, just happy to be next to again and joking around.
“Hey we should do this again sometime, give me your number.”
“Sorry, I got a boyfriend, his name is Axl Rose.” You stuck your tongue out at his remark.
Always time for jokes.
A/n: IDK HOW TO WRITE SILLY SMUT SORRY I TRIED, WELL NOT ENOUGH BUT HEY HO
261 notes · View notes