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#it means your thoughts and emotions don't either
contact-guy · 2 days
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Writing fanfiction for Lord of the Rings: I reach back through the decades to take JRR Tolkien’s hand. I will tell the queer story that you could not tell in life, my friend, carefully uncovering a narrative from within the lines of your tale, illuminating the hints and moments of emotion that perhaps even you did not fully understand
Writing fanfiction for Sherlock Holmes: hey Arthur Conan Doyle quick question did you MEAN to create a queer icon or did you just have dinner with Oscar Wilde once and thought 'what if he solved crimes'? I don't really care either way. He’s escaped his enclosure and lives in my brain now. we're having fun
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weebsinstash · 12 hours
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I want yandere Alastor being the biggest fucking hypocrite on the block and getting painfully humbled by reality so fucking bad you don't understand
I want a story where you stumble into becoming his friend with benefits, become the person who gets him interested in sex as a physical activity, and then one day you ask him "hey, what are we?" And his response being ABSOLUTELY RUDE AS HELL, albeit unintentionally, and you immediately cut him off from sex because his reply was basically the equivalent of "you're fun to sleep with, but the rest of you? No :)" (and also maybe he didn't even fully mean it, maybe he only partially meant it but he can tell he's forming some kind of new emotion for you and he doesn't want that to become a point of weakness for him so he's pushing you away but once you're actually gone he wants you back more than ANYTHING--)
I want yandere Alastor who laughs in your face if you nervously ask him if you're his girlfriend or something but then when you show up around town with another man less than a week later and he sees how easily you REPLACED HIM, he's just absolutely losing his mind. What do you MEAN you were still sleeping with other men this whole time?!?! The Radio Demon was getting SLOPPY SECONDS??? WHY would you let these-these disgusting bastards DEGRADE YOU-- meanwhile you and him could've been having like hardcore bdsm sex with actual degradation or some semi respectful form of it and he's STILL over here "B B BUT THESE MEN PROBABLY DONT EVEN RESPECT YOU--" and neither did you, you laughed in my fucking face you bitch!!!
yandere Alastor just having to sit and have a fulllll glass of whiskey and ruminate on his thoughts as he tries to come to terms with these sudden EXTREMELY POSSESSIVE feelings and urges he has. What do you MEAN he wasn't providing anything for you that you couldn't get somewhere else AND BETTER AND ALREADY WERE? what do you MEAN you're making gifts for and going out and having actual fun dates with some of these men? What do you fucking MEAN YOU'RE 'ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH SOMEONE ELSE NOW' AND WOULDN'T SLEEP WITH ALASTOR EVEN IF HE APOLOGIZED BECAUSE YOU REALLY LIKE THIS GUY--
Alastor hardcore coping, trying not to think about you at all, telling himself he just needs time and this'll all blow over and he wont even think about you anymore, and eventually finds his feet carrying him to your favorite jazz club that he would take you to, AND YOU'RE ALREADY THERE WITH ANOTHER MAN. Now THIS is what causes Alastor to finally have a public episode. No, some RANDO can't come with you HERE, this is YOUR place, OUR place, it's special, it's for Alastor and you ONLY!! basically turns him into a little kid stomping his foot going no no no that's MINE!!!
This narcissistic ass man really ain't shit, over here responding to your actually extremely valid question of "what are we?" because you were actually trying to respectfully ask him if there were any certain boundaries or if you were now exclusive, and he hits you with some deflective dehumanizing diversion like "what makes you think I would have THOSE kinds of feelings about YOU?" until he's painfully aware you're sleeping with another man, kissing another man, making hot meals for another man, holding his hand tenderly as you take a leisurely stroll, GOD FORBID HE CATCHES WIND OF ANY MARRIAGE TALK, HE WILL FUCKING L O S E IT
Juat the idea of him being so close to having what he wants - your body, heart, AND mind- and he fucks it up big time and ruins your relationship and self esteem so badly. He tries to pretend that he doesn't need your attention and/or affection but the second he doesn't have EITHER, he's a jealous mess trying to literally one-up whomever you're with, show off, impress you, usually digging his hole even deeper. Alastor becoming more unpredictable over time, literally losing sleep over you, absolutely CONVINCED 500% that all of these, shall we say, "more modern men" that you're choosing are not even worth the dirt in the treads of your shoes.
Just twirling my hair kicking my feet thinking bout yandere Alastor, becoming dead-set on genuinely and fully believing he has to save you not just from these men, but also yourself. Oh honey, he's so sorry, CLEARLY this is his fault for not watching over you better. He already knew you were... delicate and naive, but here you are, running around letting these men treat you like some kind of object just because you need what you perceive as acceptance and validation. It almost breaks his heart, truly, but don't worry darlin'! He's a southern gentleman and, SURELY he can turn up the charm and make it clear to you that you MISUNDERSTOOD HIM, right? :) You're going to GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE, right? :)
genuinely, i feel like this man is more likely to try and gaslight you into believing you completely misinterpreted what he said instead of just apologizing let alone ADMITTING that he himself didn't communicate jack shit about shit, wasn't honest or up front about his feelings, and may have even be intentionally cruel to you in a moment of weakness to try and keep his own insecurities at bay, but then is fully capable of convincing, some may even say BRAINWASHING you into believing, oh sweetie, if these DEGENERATE DELIQUENTS somehow convinced you that your best friend and future husband is somehow your enemy, then, CLEARLY he hasn't been keeping you close enough to properly care for you and help you keep a clear head, has he? guess it's a good thing both of you are Sinners and he has NOTHING but time to show you EXACTLY what his intentions are. So, dear doe, which do you like the sound of more: a spring wedding, or a summer wedding, or maaaaaybe you two could even get hitched during some lovely acid rain so your new spouse can demonically laugh at all your screaming "gentleman callers" captive in the wedding audience who "accidentally" weren't put under any gazebos or any sort of protection while being forced to watch Alastor take you away--
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Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons
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Mostly SFW, but a few lil spicy ones throughout (below the line).
Chews on pens/pencils when she's anxious or deep in thought and it's inexplicably hot.
Has a glass of very nice, very expensive red wine every night.
Fluent in Arabic, French, Spanish, and Italian. Passable in Russian.
Seems quiet and mysterious at first but is actually just a huge dork.
Breaks down crying every time before starting her period and will say, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so emotional today," and you're like... "Babe, don't you start tomorrow?"
Usually a no-strings-attached-sex kind of person, mostly because relationships are hard with her job. You're the exception.
Will fold like a wet napkin for nice chocolate.
Notorious for ghosting lol. Sometimes even used a fake name. A bad habit from her undercover days.
Not subtle at all when coming on to you. Pretty much asked you for a date out of the blue.
Loves that you can talk about the deep, dark stuff, but can also make her laugh like no one else.
If for any reason you wake up in the night–stomachache, nightmare, scary storm–she is up with you. She'll claim she can't sleep either, but really she just wants to hold you and make sure you get back to sleep okay.
Watches you breathe at night. She finds it deeply comforting.
Takes you once a year to her grandfather’s cottage in the French Alps, where she spent a lot of time growing up.
Grew up Catholic. She’s not religious anymore, but sometimes she still likes to listen to old hymns and chants, like they had at the mass she and her mom attended in Italy.
Opens every door for you always. In fact, she’ll be hurt if you don’t let her open the door.
An incredibly good listener. She loves hearing about your day, no matter how mundane it was, because her days are usually filled with the darkest, most horrific things.
Has two tattoos. (1) On her ankle. A word from the Qur’an (لِّتَسۡكُنُوۡۤ) that roughly translates to “that you may find tranquility.” She got it in Italy when she started to realize she liked girls, because girls were the only people in whom she ever found tranquility. (2) On her hip. A small asterisk a la Kurt Vonnegut.
Insanely protective. She will not let anyone touch you, say anything to you, even look at you with nefarious intentions.
Has a little note on her phone where she writes down your favorite things–takeout, flowers, ice cream flavors, the brand of tampons you use–so she'll always remember.
“Call me when you get there.” Has to know where you are at all times. You gave up arguing and just constantly have your phone location shared with her. It’d be suffocating except that, given her job, it makes sense.
Loves that you are so independent. She’s watched too many BAU relationships fall apart because their partner was frustrated with the demanding BAU work schedule. You don’t really mind. Of course, you miss her, but you also really like your alone time, so things balance out nicely.
Puzzle fiend. There’s almost always a puzzle going on the coffee table.
Queen of leaving people on read. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that texts usually fall by the wayside when she’s in the field.
Secretly loves it so much when you brag about her. She’ll act all embarrassed about it, but it means a lot that you’re proud of her.
A hipster in the sense that if something is popular, she automatically decides she doesn’t like it. You make fun of her a lot for this.
Falls in love with you every time she notices one of your little gestures–having a second go-bag packed and ready at all times, doing the laundry, packing little granola bars in her purse because you know she forgets to stop for lunch, returning books to the library for her, etc.
Incredibly stubborn. Thankfully, you are, too, so you’re well-matched. On the downside, sometimes it takes forever to make a decision because neither of you are willing to back down.
Swears like a sailor when she’s not at work.
Kind of quiet with other people, but will talk with you late into the night, until you fall asleep. You love that you get to fall asleep to her voice.
Touches you like you’re made of gold, like you were made to be cherished and held on to.
Cheek/nose/forehead kisses. all. the. time.
Kisses you good morning and good night, every time, no matter when she gets home or when she leaves.
You would never guess it, but she lives for gossip. She doesn’t want to be part of the drama, but she sure as hell wants to know about it.
Drives her wild (in bed and out) that you are 100% hers. It is not in your nature to cheat, you are wholly devoted to your person, and she is over the moon that she’s that person.
Acts like a top, is a top.
Can drink coffee at midnight and be conked out twenty minutes later.
After a particularly hard case, she’ll come home and want to just hold you really tight against her chest, sometimes for an hour or more. You always let her.
Big spoon, always. She likes to feel like she’s keeping you safe.
Favorite food is the sweet potato burrito from Muchas Gracias, but they only have them at lunch and she is never in DC at lunchtime, so sometimes you go buy her one and pack it for her for lunch the next day. It makes her day every time.
Honestly it’s a struggle when you have to get up before her because she has you in a ninja death grip that is almost impossible to get out of.
Her feet are always cold, so she has a huge collection of fuzzy socks.
Movie buff. Has a giant checklist of all the Oscar noms during awards season, and you watch one almost every night she’s home.
Loves to shower with you. You will get clean, but you’ll get fucked first.
A wizard with a wand (iykwim).
She still gets butterflies when you hold hands.
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WOLFSTAR X READER SERIES
Gilded Constellations | THE INTERLUDE Part 2
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Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally see Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode | The first Interlude
You guys know I wanted to make another interlude, but upon lack of time, and because I don't want to have you wait another week to read the next chapter (darling @aremuslupinsimp for sure needs someone to vent about the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that it is) I've decided to make it a WEEKL-LONG EVENT!
But Lilly, What does that mean? It means you can send as many questions as you might have and I'll try to address all of them within the week. Including anything related to last week, this week's, and the next week's chapter (although I will not spoil that one).
Adding a few questions here, just as a start:
Have you always known where the story is going or have you kind of figured it out along the way? do you have the ending planned?
Hey love! I do have a base idea of where GC is going. I've had these big plot points thought out from the very beginning to the part where they all start dating. Having said that, a lot of things that happen in the story, and that are in between those points, are just me letting my imagination soar, and a lot of those chapters end up being some of my favourites.
I wanted to end the story either before they end school or before 1981, but now that I've gotten so attached to the characters, I've honestly thought of writing past that, and "fixing" some of the things that happen in canon. But who knows, that's like a whole other fic just on how much plot it would have.
SoIi can’t really remeber if the ‘prank’ that Sirius pulled on Snape had already happened in Gilded Constellations, if it hasn’t will it be happening or will it just get skipped over?
It's happened already (in 5th year). That's the reason Snape is weary about leaving Vixen in the Shack in "Bad Moon Rising". He knew she would be in danger because there was a werewolf inside. He couldn't say anything to them because of the young twisting charm Dumbledore put on him, and he's never been brave enough to stand up to the other Slytherins, so he went straight to Lily and told her Vix was in danger.
That's why Lily knew about Vixen being in danger when Sirius showed up with a fox in his hands and was livid about it.
Tu penses prévoir combien de chapitre pour GC si tu sais sinon si tu sais pas une estimation de chapitre que tu aimerais écrire pour GC ?
I'm terrible with estimations, originally it was going to be a short 5 chapter-long series. And then I wanted to end it at thirty, and then at forty. So far I've written 55 chapters, but I'm thinking of ending before chapter 70. (That's IF I don't get carried away).
Do we get to know if Sirus ever got that necklace back from the first few chapters?
Oh, the necklace is still on Vix's neck and it's going to be HUGE in the next couple of chapters. I've been building on is for a while and I'm really excited about it finally happening.
How is it going with Remus' and reader's fireworms?
They are amazing! They've implemented a whole system that helps them get fed automatically. They're probably going to ace that test.
Are we seeing more to Nina?
Definitely.
After they come back from winter break will the study group start again?
I mean, there're going to be a LOT of things happening after the Winter Break, but I assume yes. Also the reading club, the reading club is going to happen.
How long do we have to wait 'till Remus, Reader and Sirius go out?
I think I'm about one or two chapters away from writing that, but I'm a few chapters ahead. But it's waaay less than before.
Does Nina have a little crush on Reader or is it just me?
I mean, there's a reason why the ribbon she tied on her quidditch gear was enough to defend Vix from Barty's spell. And why, more than once, Nina's love has proven to be a strong protective spell over the reader.
Are we getting more lessons like some of the first chapters?
Yup, not very soon, since the next few chapters will all be happening over the winter break, but once they're back in school, certainly.
Further questions will be answered directly on asks as they come.
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I'm really excited about the questions I might get, also a bit terrified about the questions I'll get after Chapter 44, but of well, the show must go on.
Love ya lots, Lils xx
Series Masterlist | First Interlude
Taglist: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies
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Read more Marauders Fiction
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seraphim-soulmate · 1 month
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so how do I reconcile with just having big baby loser brain that decided I'd be mentally ill and perpetually stuck suffering instead of having just dealt with my shit in a more normal way? or is there some neuroscience that can explains that I don't have a cringefail brain but it's actually something else??
i mean. it's shame. shame I feel for struggling with things i consider i shouldn't struggle with, which i guess is kinda stupid bcs when i take a step back i realize it's understandable that im struggling with certain things ive lived through. being stuck in them doesn't entirely make sense, but I'm willing to accept that my past shaped me. not to mention that I'm also somehow kind of constantly going through really hard situations on top of also dealing with my past? but it also all (mental illness and emotional sensitivity, I mean) started with something, and my early childhood was my parents getting divorced.
but I consider that banal, plenty of parents get divorced and it doesn't mean their kid suffers from treatment-resistant depression and ptsd. I guess divorce is so normalized now that i don't consider it a valid thing to be traumatized over, at least not to the extent to which ive experienced symptoms. but I was separated from one parent, always missing one or the other, without any explanation that could make sense to a child's brain about why any of this happened and why i have to suffer because of it. can I get rid of the shame by validating the struggles I went through? would that make me feel better about having been disabled by my life experiences?
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saltyfilmmajor · 1 year
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it feels particularly off when someone who is aware of your religious trauma, but does not happen to share the cultural context for it, to make jokes about it
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xiaowhore · 4 months
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intoxicating.
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premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
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Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
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“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
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When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment
- 🐞
I LOVE IT
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power
It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide
Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes
You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident
The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body
You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention
Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead
As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...
You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip
Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment
"Alastor, did you just-"
"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"
Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock
You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-
"Alastor, about that sound you made..."
"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."
"But I want it to."
👀
It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life
You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible
He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea
Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal
He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them
That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him
You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?
Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead
You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward
"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."
WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE
Angel
Oh that makes sense
It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him
"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"
Oh fuck
It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would
You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them
Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you
Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for
He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard
You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance
You know exactly how to get that sound out of him
Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss
He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both
He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic
You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close
"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"
And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat
He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths
"You...you are an evil evil person..."
You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately
"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"
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This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!
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satoruluvies · 30 days
Text
saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'
fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????
slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(
not proof read !
thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡
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satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.
chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.
and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.
not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.
“gojo can you not-”
“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”
you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.
“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.
“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.
“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”
you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.
“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”
“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.
“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.
he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.
you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.
“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.” your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.
“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.
the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.
so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.
satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.
it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.
he just wanted you to be there. with him.
and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.
he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.
“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.
“i love you”
he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.
“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.
“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.
“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.
“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”
you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.
“alright”
you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.
“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.
“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.
“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.
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sanguineterrain · 2 months
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Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up
idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon
jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words
****
"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."
"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.
"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."
"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.
But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.
"You haven't visited in a while," you say.
You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.
"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."
And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.
And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.
But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.
Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.
"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.
This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.
Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."
You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.
"Do you even want to see me?"
He tilts his head. Dangerous.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"
Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.
The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.
Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?
He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.
"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.
Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.
You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.
But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.
"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.
"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.
"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."
Your eyes widen. "Wh—"
His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.
His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.
"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."
"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."
He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.
"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."
This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.
"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?
Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.
"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.
He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."
Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.
"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."
"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"
"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."
You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.
He is still. You have made him still.
"I'm yours too," you say.
He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"
"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.
"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."
Your heart is still. He has made it still.
"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."
"I do. I'm yours."
His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.
"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."
But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.
"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."
His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.
"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."
"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."
"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."
"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."
Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."
"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
Text
My dog is a pretty good tell for my moms mental health. He has a bone in his bed and he has decided to fully ignore it (weird for him) and instead to lay under two blankets and I lifted the blanket to let him lick a bowl of Mac and cheese I had finished (which he loves and usually the sound of a spoon scraping the bottom of a plate gets his attention and he comes running over) and he sniffed it and then started retreating further into the blankets until I put them back down and mom had a rough morning and is now depression showering and singing sad songs while crying so like :/ I wish I could help both of them. I want my mom and my dog back to normal but that's not gonna happen unless my dad magically comes back from the dead
#it feels weird to be around someone who wants to share their grief with me bc I grieve completely in private#and like it's especially weird bc I was almost raised to do that or like I was raised to independently deal with all feelings and now my mom#wants to be sad with me but also feels guilty about being sad around me#it just makes me realize just how much emotion internalizing came from my father and not my mother#i mean I knew he didn't outwardly feel his emotions but I thought mom was the same way#and now I'm wondering how often she hid her emotions from him becusde he didn't deal with his shit either.#idk. weird to think of your parents as people always but especially when there is only one parent in the picture anymore#i almost feel guilty for still picking apart their relationship or the ways they interacted cause it feels like somehow I'm going to hurt my#moms feelings somehow by merely *thinking* about their relationship#that feeling of guilt for thinking critically of a relationship that doesn't even exist anymore#idk. maybe I just feel guilty over everything always but like :// I wish I could fix that#but grief for me is very much a private affair and im not quite sure how im gonna deal with it when my brother comes home from college#cause he and mom are both very emotional and he tends to share it and they're probably going to talk about him and im going to isolate more#cause I don't want to talk about him at all I simply want to hide in my room#and I am crying now thinking about it cause emotions are hard and im pmsing so my eyes are leaking but like fuck man this sucks massiveballs
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.
AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3
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“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”
Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”
You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.
Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”
You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.
“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”
He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.
So fucking beautiful.
“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”
Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"
It's all I want. You think.
"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.
You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."
That's all I want. He thinks.
Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"
He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.
and it'll crush him.
The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."
"So?" He asks.
"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."
It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’
The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.
So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.
Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.
"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.
Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.
You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."
“Stop that.” He seethed.
It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.
Never with you.
Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.
"What--"
He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”
“Eddie…”
“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.
Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.
It’s overwhelming.
You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?
His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.
Fuck it.
“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.
You exhale his name, “Eddie,”
“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”
Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?
Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”
He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”
Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.
“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”
With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.
“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”
Warm warm warm.
It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.
Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.
There’s no one but you.
You’re everything.
I love you, please, let me love you.
Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.
“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.
Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”
“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”
He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”
Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"
He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.
"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."
You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."
Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.
"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.
Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"
A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.
You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."
You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"
You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."
Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."
"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."
He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.
"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."
"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.
You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.
"God, yes."
He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.
"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."
Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"
He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.
Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.
"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”
The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.
“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.
He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”
You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”
Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.
“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.
“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.
The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.
Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.
Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”
You’re both breathing heavy.
Now it’s his turn.
Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.
When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.
God damn...he's fucking huge.
"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"
Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.
"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."
"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.
You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.
"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.
His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"
You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.
"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.
Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.
Such a good girl.
Taking me so well.
My pretty girl.
Mine.
Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.
"Eddie, fuck, I--"
"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."
His words are like a spell.
You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.
"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"
You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.
He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.
"Hi." He says quietly.
You giggle softly, "Hi."
"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."
You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"
"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.
Nothing.
You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."
Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"
You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."
He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.
Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."
Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Genshin men when they see you talking to someone and they think you're flirting with them? And just taking you where ever and fucking the brains out of you for it.
Oh? That doesn't really sound like a punishment now does it?
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Capitano, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, semi-public sex, being watched, sadism, face slapping, clit stimulation, name-calling, degradation, fingering, crying , marking, lots of cum, torn clothes
A/N: I need my brains thank you very much, I like them. But I also like...
Kaeya would pull you to the first empty room in the ship and push you over a crate, his face obscured by his hair as he tries to get a hold of his emotions. But the only thing he can do is to start grinding against your ass before he pulls your pants down and pushes the tip inside you, keeping one hand on your neck so you can't buck backwards to take the rest. You really haven't earned it, being so friendly with his men like that. If you keep that up they're gonna think that their Captain's woman is a slut. Is that what you want? Do you want to be a slut? If you do then you're only be his slut.
Diluc works like normal behind the bar until he notices a few regulars flirting with you. He pays it no mind, thinking that you'll shoo them away, but you just sit there glancing at him. Interesting. Either you want him to be your hero, or you're enjoying it. One one answer is the right one, and he is determined to find out which. He's quick to make up the excuse of checking inventory while he leads you to the back. His gloves are off the moment you're in there, rubbing your cunt through your pants. This needs to be quick because he has a tavern to run but rest assured once won't be enough. Stay behind the bar and take his fingers for the rest of the night, completely silent.
Itto never thought he'd see his girl being hit on so blatantly in front of him and see her not come running to his arms. He's a very nice guy but things like this make him over the edge into jealousy. First time for everything right? Not the first time that he's balls deep in your pussy in an alleyway though and it sure as hell won't be the last. What do you think it means when he marks you like this? When his claws leave marks on your ass as he's holding you up? When his cock spills cum all over your cunt, clit and stomach and goes back into your pussy for more. It means you belong to him.
Childe likes a little competition but not like this. This is one kind of competition he never wants to see. There's no way some random knight can take you away from him. He'll be humiliating him in a fight before he takes all that adrenaline and takes it out on you next. Think you're gonna get away scot free? Hell no. You'll end up with your legs pushed apart against the bed and with his cock ramming deep and hard and fast into your pussy until you learn that it belongs only to him. Are you his prize for victory? Maybe. Or maybe you're the victor and this was your plan all along, to rile him up so he fucked you senseless just like this.
Pantalone smiles at you when he sees you still talking to someone who's so blatantly been flirting with you? Did he fuck you too hard last night or are you just that stupid that you didn't realize that the man wanted you? Or is it that you don't notice when its not him who's doing the flirting? Regardless an apology is in order. Since you seemed so happy to talk so much earlier why not use your mouth for something much better. It looks so pretty when its around his big cock, smeared with pre and making cute whimpering sounds, begging for forgiveness which you need to earn.
Dottore will not tolerate this but he also won't be punishing just you. Nope. He will be tying that person up and make them watch as you get fucked. You like it to don't you? On display like this, your legs spread as your pussyhole takes thrust after thrust of his cock, clearly used to rougher treatment. Moan. Loud. Scream, yell, let the sorry bastard in front of you know that he will never have you like Dottore has you. You'll be on your hands and knees, hand pressed down as Dottore leans over to the tied up and tells him all about how good you feel, just for his cock.
Capitano doesn't hold back on his jealousy when he sees you indulging someone else's advances. How rude, how cruel of you to even give someone the illusion that they can have you. That wasn't funny in the slightest. If you think you can just flirt with someone like a slut then you will be treated like one. Was that... not your goal? Shame. And here he was ready to punish you. Ah, so you do want it. That's better. Show him then. Use your fingers and rub that little clit raw and look at how hard you're making him. Come crawling to him and beg to be fucked.
Zhongli leaves your clothes in shreds on the floor from anger and frustration at your actions. Fuck being slow, he needs to teach you who you belong to and he will do it now. Don't you know that dragons are possessive over their treasure? Then its time you learn just how possessive he can be. You already know he can go for hours. Well this time he's not stopping until every inch of your slutty body is bathed in his cum, so much of it that you won't be able to get the scent of him out for days after. See if any man will dare approach you when you're clearly Zhongli's beloved breeding bitch.
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Your kiss is burning to my skin — S. Rogers and B. Barnes.
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summary: steve and bucky break up with you to focus on their relationship. at first, you took the breakup hard. then you took it worse.
pairings: steve x reader x bucky, stucky x reader.
warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, poly.
chapter one
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“it has nothing to do with you, doll.” bucky reiterates, tone mellowing into a small hesitant whisper as he sees you flinch at the endearment. “i mean you were wonderful and so lovely; always understanding us, being the pillar for support and providing us, always with positive reinforcements.” steve squeezes his hand as his form of support, as if willing bucky to take strenght from him to continue his words as he stutters.
the tender moment was not missed by your gaze that were intent on the supersoldiers who sat at the sofa infront of you. the parallels already evident; steve and bucky, leaning to eachother for comfort, sitting in one sofa. the only distance in the room were with you and them; sat in the lone one seater, listening with bated breath to their reasons on why they were breaking your heart.
you could guess several other scenarios happening when you returned from the three week mission requiring radio silence; a breakup was not one of them.
you were happy. the last time you saw either of them, you three went on a romantic date followed by a passionate night spent in eachother's loving arms. the next day was a tearful exchange of goodbye's and unwillingness to part; bucky had almost begged to be included, knowing what the mission entailed. steve inteded to be more diplomatic and barter with tony who refused to budge on his stance.
so with a heavy heart, you departed to cold and frigid terrorist base along with natasha and sam, throwing yourself into your duties in order to come home soonest. even with the support and extensive planning aswell as research, it still took a considerable amount of time.
but not enough for a drastic change of heart— or so you thought.
the steely and determined gaze to steve, the way bucky could look at you in the eyes despite shifting in his seat; they were fucking serious. and intent on expressing their disatisfaction with your current arrangement. one that was implicitly expressed as you trek to your floor, and sat you down after an almost hostile welcome.
“this hurts us more than you.” bucky exhales, looking at steve.
“i doubt it.” the first words you spoke amid all these crazy tirade sounded weak, from disuse and the emotions welling up in your throat. “but please, by all means, don't let me interrupt. why now?”
“we have been talking and spending time with eachother.. unconsciously, we thought about... how we missed it when it was just us.”
you flinch. again. in the field you were almost fearless, and not even a flying knife can make you swerve— you'd catch the weapon whizing to the air with precise movements. turns out, words indeed cut deeper.
but all the more of the implication that it had been them first; and the way it sounded, you were an unwelcomed participant into the special connection they shared.
“but this is not to say we don't value you.” steve intones. “we do. you have to know that. you're special in your own way, but bucky and i have something deeper than just flesh.”
you bite your tongue to refrain from lashing out. as a coping mechanism, you entertain the anger for his fucking audacity. letting the rage simmer under the blank farce you currently wear.
“we just hope, we can focus on eachother more.” steve elaborates, tensing the slightest at your emotionless response. to be frank, both men were ready for a fight, for you to scream and be hysterical. but you were surprisingly calm and collected. which made both uneasy.
“we just want to fall inlove again, without worrying about, others.” he refers you as others now. “could be permanent, could be a thought in passing.” bucky says. “the only thing we're certain about is a break.” he evasively looks away.
“i guess what bucky and i are trying to say is that, we want more from eachother, and there are certain deeper connections that we can't sustain in a three-way relationship.” steve informs you.
“i respect that.” you run your clammy hands on your tactical gear, they couldn't wait until you were dressed and atleast fed before shoving flowery words on your throat. “but if you're breaking up with me, say it bluntly; tell me honestly, tell it in words i understand- you were a good lay but it's actually eachother we love.” you enunciate the word slowly, “and don't delude me with kind words, when i know you're going to dangle the very statements you spewed over my head, most likely in days when you're fucked up or too lonely for eachother. i will not be tripped into your bed ever again.”
you despised the words as soon as they left your mouth; the statements only providing to fuel your deepest insecurity. and it was unfair to both of them, you knew it was.
steve and bucky looked visibly wretched by your words, yet you ignore it, telling yourself to get used to not caring about either of them.
“doll”
“darling”
“don't fucking call me that.” you hiss, both men still in their seat. “we're done.” gathering whatever was left of your dignity, you trudge to the doors and out of their lives.
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the door closed behind you, your own apartment looking stale as opposed to the home you have built with steve and bucky; you barely stayed here anyways, but kept it for storage reasons. it still had stark's touch, feeling more like a hotel penthouse, appearing cold and detatched.
you slide down against the door weakly, losing the false bravado infront of your ex lovers. as if a child, you hug your knees to your chest, sobbing into it unbashedly.
three years all down the drain. and they talked about it as if it were a skin deep connection, downplaying every single moment; in tenderness, in affection, in tears and the joy.
you didn't lie down with them in their bed as an extension, as a woman that can be tossed in passing.
you didn't hold them gently in your arms, and provided the warmth the world has chosen to keep from them just to be a stranger.
you didn't whisper words of comfort in their ears, in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much to handle, just to be someone shallow and unimportant in their lives.
most importantly, you didn't love them to be hurt like this.
the pain cuts deep in your heart, like a throbbing wound, one you feel physically; one that leaves you gasping for breath, a hand held above your heart, feeling as if you could die. your chest tight, your throat welling up, you struggle to remain above ground, eyes darting around the room to keep in the moment- fuck, you were having a panic attack.
you despised when that happens. hated the sheer fact that you would allow yourself to be vulnerable when there were things that needed to be done; people that need saving, reports to be made, meetings to attend. you led a remotely chaotic life and the only thing that truly anchored you in here, to the now, turned their backs to you.
they no longer want you.
you swallowed heavily, arms instinctively hugging yourself, eyes squinting in an an attempt at concentration; color, you looked at your surroundings, dizzily naming the grey of your couch, the ivory white lamp, the silver and gold of the chandelier. your forehead was beaded with perspiration, breath coming out in shorts despite your attempts at distracting yourself.
“agent y/n, your blood pressure is fluctuating; your heart rate is abnormal which can cause the brain and other ogans to become oxygen deprived. i concluded a physical scan and deduced your emotional distress," FRIDAY “i'm at liberty to ask if i should call captain rogers and sergeant barnes, as they are—”
“no!” you managed to shout between strangled breaths, patting your chest methodolically hoping whatever it was, seemingly dislodged into your airways be cleared.
“agent y/n, in accordance to the tower's protoccol, i am hardwired to inform your immediate contacts of your current state of distress.” her posh voice inserts. and despite yourself, you groan.
“i'm peachy, fri.” you lean your head back to the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. slowly, you were able to calm down enough, “it's probably the best time to change those emergency contacts, aswell. while you're at it, remove the captain and sergeant's access to this floor; both physically and even in information.”
“ofcourse, agent y/n. please state your official badge number and code.” when you answer her, FRIDAY appears to repeat your command before doing what was asked.
“i also elected the sensible decision of reinstating agent romanov as your primary emergency contact. that being said, ms. romanov is on the way to your floor.” FRIDAY disappears before you can scold her, which made you truly contemplate wether she was conscious and, in all actuality sensitive to human emotions.
perhaps, she does have an inkling of human relationships and intense emotions, but that was no longer your concern; considering you have a black widow shaped problem coming your way. and natasha romanov was nothing, if not immensely stubborn and perpetually perceptive. you were several times screwed over.
however, as she appeared in your doorway, the waterworks resumed ten times over, and you were sobbing pathetically in the red head's arms, lamenting your broken heart.
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you couldn't remember for how long you've stayed immobile in your room, but it had been several days; perhaps a week or two that you cried your heart out, barely consuming meals unless for sustenance. that in itself seemed like a chore for your aching muscle, your tired and weary bones protesting with every single movements.
this morning though... this morning, it was sunny and bright. you'd opened the curtains with much effort, peering into the bustling city; the skyline providing you with displaced warmth. a few years ago, you'd only ever dreamt about being in new york; and you've lived it. becoming an avenger was also a dream you've worked hard in achieving, and here you are, fighting alongside the heroic and brave on normal tuesdays.
should you allow yourself to wither away in a dark room, heart terribly battered and bruised when the world was set for conquering? well, perhaps it would be insensitive to use the c word; cringing to yourself upon the remembrance of several otherplanetary creatures wreaking havoc on your home planet, like it were a free for all.
you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin for a few moments, allowing yourself to finally, breathe. you bask in the first time upon weeks that you thought positively for a change; so wreaked from questioning every single thing wrong about you.
for the first time in many days, you took the longest shower in history, setting the temperature just a touch scalding. you cleaned your room, changed the sheets, and donned yourself in a decent jeans and a t-shirt combo. grabbing your purse, and stuffing your phone, wallet and keys along with you, you departed from your room.
on the way to the garage, you texted both wanda and natasha; who have been at your side with the outmost vigor, crying and cursing both the supersoldiers as you wept from your broken heart.
you: mall and galiani's at the grove? :)
wands: yes!! meet you there <3
natty: otw in my sensible shoes.
you smiled softly, thankful for your friends. it may have spread like wildfire among your colleagues in the tower, and the magic six may have taken sides and pointed fingers; but amongst all the drama, you were glad that you had people to count on.
it may take a while for you to feel like yourself again... but you were willing to make it work.
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rishiguro · 1 year
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HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING
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ft. bokuto; suna; atsumu: kuroo; ushijima
a/n: the fact that i posted this exact prompt on my deleted blog but i don't remember it anymore—
jjk version
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it was no secret that BOKUTO sometimes had problems controlling his emotions. he wasn't necessarily as affected by them as he was in high school, but there were enough moments that made him feel ashamed when he thought about them; just like he did right now. he was sobbing violently, his arms pressing you as close to you as ohysically possible. he wailed apologies, only stopping to take a breath every once in a while. he snapped out of his anger the moment the ring left his hand, but he was afraid that the damage couldn't be undone. he could only beg, proclaiming his love for you over and over, even if he knew that his behaviour just disproved his claims.
arguing with SUNA was tiresome. it was like he never even cared, not being attentive and only brushing you off. he never thought about the impact of his words once he did answer you, trying to get you off his back as soon as possible and with any means necessary. but even he understood when he went too far. he realized it when you took a deep breath, muttering something that he could not understand and turned around, disappearing into the bedroom only to come out a few minutes later with a bag over your shoulder, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed out the door. he clenched his jaw, picking the ring up and clenching his fist, staring out the window with a heavy chest.
ATSUMU was a prideful and confident person, he hated being confronted with his faults. he never really reacted well afterwards, either snickering a comment back or just waving the criticism off. no one was safe from this side of him, not even you. but he wasn't an idiot either. he saw the way your face fell when his ring landed on the floor, how you were shaking as you went and picked it up, only to retreat into the bedroom silently. he stayed still, not even daring to move an inch, only looking at the place you stood just a second ago. how did he let it go this far?
KUROO hated arguing and the yelling that came with it. he hated the irrational things he says during them, how every sense of reason is being thrown into the wind just to get to you because of his pride. and right after he threw his wedding ring across the room and stormed out, slamming the door behind him, he broke down, hugging his knees as he cried. he didn't know what came over him, he didn't know why he would ever think that what he did was okay but how could he face you after what he had done?
it was rare that arguments with USHIJIMA got so heated. you barely ended up shouting at each other, much less underline your words with some kind of big gestures. so it was even a bigger shock when he raised his voice at you, fiddling with the ring on his finger until throwing it away with some accusatory yell. you were too shocked to even say anything, only extending your arms in front of you to protect yourself as you stared at him with big eyes. he wanted to step closer, he wanted to hug you, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness; anything so that you wouldn't look so afraid of him anymore.
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reblogs are appreciated
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amysubmits · 5 months
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Owning Me Is Complicated
Occasionally I come across content that makes it seem like being a Dom is easy.
Order her around, make her do the things you don't want to do, do whatever you want, "win" all the disagreements because you're the dom - or even silence her from disagreeing with you to begin with. Get sex exactly how you want it, exactly when you want it. She's just a living, breathing object that can and will do whatever you want. She has no needs other than to make your life easier. She's your own personal robot, but with a body you want to fuck. Being a dom is like a regular relationship but without the emotional labor. I'm sure there are other gender versions out there too, but I see the M/f version most often. It's so funny to me how absurd that all is compared to real life.
Owning me is complicated. Owning me means doing way more emotional labor than a vanilla relationship would require, not less.
Yes, I do what he says - but he's responsible for making the best decisions he can. He's in charge, so keeping me physically and emotionally safe is his responsibility. It's a huge part of how he earns my submission. It's no small thing to make decisions when making them well is part of how he keeps me safe and keeps me open and trusting towards him. Yes, I'll try to push my sexual limits for him - but I have complex emotional needs that accompany physical intimacy. Use my body without having respect for my physical and mental health and it'll fall apart real quick. And once again, making a reckless decision here that would leave me damaged and could forever damage our dynamic. Sure, he can take his cock out anytime and instruct me to suck and I will, but that doesn't mean it's all fun and games. He has the burden of double and triple checking that he isn't pushing me too far, or taking too much as to leave me empty. Yes, he gets the final say in disagreements, but he earns that by hearing me out. He couldn't keep me submissive if he didn't respect my feelings. I can't feel respected if I'm not heard. So he has to hear me out and really listen. And then his job is to attempt to get the best outcome for both of us. He has to try to balance our needs, because if either of us gets neglected, we individually suffer and then the relationship suffers. So he sometimes deals with the weight of threading the needle between his needs and mine, his wants and mine. His shoulders carry the weight of those choices. Yes, he can deny my wishes - and even my needs for a time, if he chose. But I am human. How long can he deny me things that bring me pleasure before I start to feel unwanted, unloved, disrespected, thrown out? Resentment would set in eventually. Self-protection would kick in eventually...and it might be too late by then, the damage may be done by the time I would wake up to look around and decide I didn't want to live like this anymore. Why would he want to even find out, given that he loves me? He wouldn't. He has a sadistic streak, so he likes to deny me things I like so that I long for them even more for a while. He likes to see me eager, desperate to get it when he decides to give it. He likes to watch me tolerate discomfort for him. Playing with these ideas require a deep understanding of my needs and limits. He has to know where "desperate for you 🥺 " starts to fade and "That goblin in the back of my head is starting to worry I'm not valued" starts to enter my thoughts. Yes, I look to him to guide and lead, and he has a lot of power and control - but that comes with the ability to destroy and damage. There's nothing easy about ownership if you feel the weight of the responsibility you're carrying.
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