#like i had been to all these places before and heard this story

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile III

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Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.

“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.

You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting ! 

So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.

“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.

“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.

“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words.  He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.

“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.

“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about. 

“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”

“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.

“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”

“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?

“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.

“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”

You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.

“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”

“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.

Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head. 

“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”

~~~

It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.

“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what  you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.

“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.

“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”

“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”

“ Hey !”

Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.

You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.

“ I found a name for our cat!”

“ Our cat?”

“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”

“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”

“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”

Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.

“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it. 

“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

“ Flying !” you giggled.

“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.

“ He is the best !”

Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…

“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs… 

You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes.  You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze. 

He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.

It was perfect.

You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye. 

“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

~~~ 

“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.

“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual.  She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.

“ What is it ?”

“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen. 

“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”

“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 

Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.

“ How can he protect you?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes. 

You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.

“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.

“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”

Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.

“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.

“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 

“ … So, do I need to hug you?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.

“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”

You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer. 

~~~ 

Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction

[buckyownsmylife]

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ. 

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

[noyasmashing]

Current fave idea is the karasuno gang meeting up after they graduate to catch up, and there's a person there none of them recognize(Sugas younger sister by like a year) and one of them (noya, tsukki, tanaka, kageyama... tsukki.. I'm bias lol) catches her eye, and suddenly, they're back at her apartment crying out for her

omh… I love when i get specific requests they r so fun to write 🥰🥰

ANYWAY. Sub!Tsukkishema x Fem!Reader

CW: Alcohol usage, cryin, overstimulation??, objectification, nasty (unprotected) pnv sex, chocking (mention of it at the end), kinda sadistic reader tbh, bondage, foodjob??

The old Karasuno team was gathering at their previous haunt, the local ramen shop near their high school. It had been a while since they'd all been together, and they decided to meet up, along with some other mutual friends from back in the day. As they chatted excitedly about their lives post-graduation, reminiscing about their volleyball days, there was someone among them they couldn't quite place.

Nishinoya, ever observant, noticed a young woman sitting quietly at the edge of their group. She was sipping her ramen and listening intently to their stories, occasionally smiling or nodding along. "Hey guys," Nishinoya interrupted, "Who's our new friend here?"

They all turned to look at her. "Oh, I'm Koshi’s younger sister," she replied with a warm smile. "I heard so much about all of you from my brother. It's nice to finally meet you!"

Nishinoya's eyes widened in surprise. "Suga's sister? Wow, I didn't even know he had a sister!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm a year younger than him," she explained, her hand circling the tip of her glass, the alcohol bringing the rosiness out of her cheeks.

Tsuki gazed at the girl seated in-front of him. Truth be told he didn’t really notice her until Nishinoya had said something, but he couldn't help but be intrigued. This girl had a familiar spark about her—maybe it was her smile, or the way she listened so attentively. She seemed to share Suga's kindness and warmth.

Throughout the evening, Tsuki found himself stealing glances at her. he didn’t know what it was, maybe her easy going demeanor, or her smile when she giggled at one of Hinatas dumb jokes. He wasn’t used to looking at someone and not wanting to immediately insult them.

As the night progressed, Tsukki discovered himself engaging in more and more conversation with her. Normally not one to talk much, he was content listening to her stories from high school, her interests, and more.

They hadn’t noticed the time passing until others started saying their farewells and leaving the venue. Amidst the commotion of the crowd, Tsukki momentarily took his eyes off her, and just like that, she vanished. He anxiously scanned the dining room, navigating through the sea of people in search of her.

It was safe to say he was hooked. He wanted nothing more but to be in her presence, and he was starting to give up on that idea, as he spotted Sugawara leaving too. Then, as luck would have it, he turned his head one last time and caught her gaze, smirking up at him through her lashes.

She was tucked away towards the back of the shop near the bathrooms, chatting with Nishinoya, casually leaning against the wall.

"Bye, [name]!" Nishinoya exclaimed, before skipping away in his usual hyper manner. She smiled warmly in response, giving him a lazy wave goodbye.

As Tsukki timidly approached her, he noticed a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Were you looking for me, like a little lost puppy?" she teased, tilting her head to the side with confidence.

His cheeks burned embarrassingly red as he shook his head and muttered a quiet “fuck you." He knew she was right, but he couldn't summon the courage to defend himself properly, especially when she stood up and closed the gap between the two. He could feel the warmth of her breath, tinged with the scent of alcohol, and he could almost feel her breasts press against him.

Avoiding her gaze, he looked away, attempting to maintain his usual stoic expression.

"You're all bark and no bite," she grinned again, grabbing his face to make him meet her gaze. His glasses were perched low on his nose, and he peered at her over them, his breath catching in his throat. The only thing on his mind was how good she looked up close.

She grinned at his hesitation, “I have an uber outside, would you like to come home with me, pretty boy?”

And that’s how Tsukishima found himself in this predicament, kneeling with his very own tie binding his hands.

He grumbled in frustration as he attempted to free his hands from the tie once again. He wanted to appear irritated, not willing to admit the reason why his dick was pressing against his pants at that moment.

But, when she leaned down and planted her foot, encased in sheer stockings, against his groin, he could no longer hide it. His lower lip quivered as a whimper escaped him, his hips instinctively moving to press against her foot.

She sneered at him, increasing the pressure as she spoke, "You will take what I give you, understand?" Her previously kind and gentle demeanor was completely replaced by a more intense and commanding presence. Tears welled up in his eyes as he nodded weakly, trying to maintain his composure in the face of her dominance.

She started to glide her foot up and down the length of his pulsating erection. He could feel the sticky mess seeping into his boxers, the urge to remove them growing stronger by the second.

He couldn't help but utter a desperate "please," a plea that earned him a sadistic smile from her.

"Please what, pretty boy?" She teased, her movements becoming more deliberate against his crotch. He felt his entire body heating up as he craved more stimulation. This was unlike anything he had experienced before, and he was on the brink of making a mess in his dress pants.

He took a deep breath before nervously replying, "Can't you use a little more..." his voice trailed off, unable to meet her gaze. He could feel her seductive eyes fixed solely on him, but he couldn't summon the courage to look at her, knowing that if he did, he might climax right then and there.

"Hmm... We wouldn't want you spoiling those nice pants now, would we?" She questioned, tilting her head slightly with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

He finally mustered the courage to look up at her and replied with a shaky, "Y-yeah," his eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Why don’t you join me up here then?” She suggested, patting the bed where she sat, a warm invitation in her voice and smile.

He stood up shakily, his hands still bound behind his back, but before he could even take a seat, she pushed him onto his back with a forceful yet gentle motion.

“Be a good toy and let me use you a bit,” she instructed this time, her hands deftly moving towards his zipper with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

With swift movements, his aching member was now free, proudly displayed on his toned stomach. He couldn't help but let out a gasp at the sensation, feeling a rush of embarrassment as she gazed at him with interest.

"A-are you surprised?" he quipped, trying to sound confident even with a blush covering his ears. But she saw through his facade in an instant, especially when his tip was leaking pre-cum, giving away his nervous excitement like a virgin eager for his first fuck.

She sneered at his comment, biting back without hesitation, "Good toys stay quiet for their owner."

His head fell back in utter embarrassment at her sharp retort. Embarrassed at how his cock twitched she said that. Embarrassed that the second her pussy grazed his sensitive member, his hands instinctively pulled at the tie, his back arching in a desperate, pathetic display of need.

As his cock sank into her wet pussy, he let out the prettiest of moans, feeling a surge of pleasure as his eyes rolled back uncontrollably. Her hips rolled forward against him, causing his member to throb with intense arousal. He couldn't resist raising his hips, wanting to be buried as deeply inside her as possible, lost in the blissful sensation.

It didn't help that every time she raised her hips, just to aggressively slam them down, she whispered filthy things in his ears. Her words sent shivers down his spine and added a delicious layer pleasure to every sensation.

"Cummin'," he would slur, as she rode him through his body-shaking orgasm, but she never stopped. He wanted desperately to caress her soft skin, to cover his mouth to muffle the embarrassing whispers escaping him, but she would giggle at his struggles against the restraints. The sensation of her teasing laughter only added to his pleasure, driving him further into a frenzy of ecstasy as she continued to ride him with relentless abandon.

"Such a good... good toy for me," she panted between breaths, continuing to fuck herself on his raging cock. The natural curve in it, plus the sheer thickness of him, was just too perfect.

She brought two fingers to his lips and clumsily pushed them inside, his tongue swirling desperately around them, seeking distraction from the overwhelming sensations. But her fingers were gone too soon, leaving him wanting more as she pulled them away and pressed them against her sensitive clit. The sight of her pleasuring herself with the very fingers that had been inside him moments before was too much for him.

The sound of her gasps of pleasure as she pleasured herself was torture for him, even though he was still buried deep inside her. He yearned to be the one touching her, driving her wild with desire himself. The sight of her lost in her own pleasure, eliciting those intoxicating sounds from deep within her throat, fueled the fire of desire burning within him. He couldn't help but let out a string of whines, the need to touch her, to bring her to the edge overwhelming his senses.

He had likely cum at least twice, doing everything in his power to muffle his moans, even resorting to biting his lip until it bled. But she did not stop for a second, her relentless pace and intensity driving him wild with desire. The pleasure and the pain mingled together, making hot tears roll down his cheeks.

It seemed his tears only fulled her desire, as her hands made their way to his neck. “You would look so pretty with my hands around your throat.”

It became clear that this night was going to be longer than either of them had expected.

#sub haikyuu #dom reader #haikyu x reader #sub!character #dom!reader #sub character #haikyu smut #haikyu x you #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #kei tsukishima #hq tsukishima #hq tsukki

[doliacuddles]

MELODY OF HELL.

𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖨𝖽𝗈𝗅! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

PART ONE | PART TWO (𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇)

❝Lost in the allure of fame's infernal embrace, she danced on the edge of her nightmares, unaware of the lurking shadows until they engulfed her world.❞

The roar of the crowd echoed in your ears as you gracefully moved across the stage, bathed in the dazzling lights of the show. Like a music star in Hell, your talent had once again become your ladder to fame.

Your path to success had been cut short by a tragic fate in the mortal world. An obsessed fanatic, unable to bear the idea of your heart belonging to another, had snatched away your life in an act of unrestrained madness.

Now, in the eternal embrace of Hell, you found yourself surrounded by the echo of your own past glory. With each passing day, your fame grew stronger and stronger, as if the fire of Hell itself fanned the flames of your stardom.

Renowned companies like VoxTek and others fought for the right to have your face in their projects. Your image was coveted, your name whispered in every corner of this realm of torment.

And so, when Charlie, the charming owner of the Hazbin Hotel, extended an invitation for you to join her establishment as part of a publicity strategy, you couldn't resist. The promise of an astronomical amount of money and the opportunity to expand your reach in Hell were too tempting to refuse.

And thus, you found yourself in front of the imposing structure of the Hazbin Hotel, your steps echoing on the ground as you entered a new chapter of your infernal existence.

Your arrival at the Hazbin Hotel took everyone by surprise. Charlie had not announced that you would be there for a publicity campaign. Niffty quickly approached, excited, to ask for your autograph and praise you for your songs. Husk, with a look of surprise on his face, looked at you, remembering your perfect image as you used to appear on television.

Angel Dust, already familiar with you due to the association with VoxTek, greeted you with a mischievous smile. Vaggie, without even turning around, recognized you upon hearing your voice. She had heard the songs you used to perform even before coming to Hell.

The presence of everyone in the Hazbin Hotel was tinted with surprise and admiration, everyone except Alastor. Although he showed disinterest towards you, as if he didn't know you, he actually knew who you were, as your image was everywhere in Hell.

As the days passed, you immersed yourself even more in the dynamics of the Hazbin Hotel. The vibrant and chaotic atmosphere of the place was completely different from anything you had experienced in the mortal world. You found yourself surrounded by demons of all kinds, each with their own story and motivations.

After filming a commercial for the Hazbin Hotel, you soon found yourself surrounded by demons at the hotel's doors, eager to be redeemed. Those accepted by Charlie approached you quickly to engage in conversation, while those rejected by Vaggie left with their heads down, feeling disappointed for not being able to see you.

From atop the stairs, Alastor watched how you interacted with your followers. He listened as you constantly repeated the words "I love you," watching as your followers fainted with happiness upon hearing them, only to quickly get up and continue talking to you.

To Alastor, it was astonishing how your words repeated themselves over and over, as if you were trying to convince yourself of their sincerity. He could see beyond your facade, noticing every flaw, hearing every lie, observing every false action. It fascinated him that others couldn't see it.

Hours passed until Charlie decided to show the Hazbin Hotel to the new guests, who accepted the invitation reluctantly. Alastor saw this as an opportunity to approach you and strike up a conversation, taking advantage of the fact that you would be alone.

Before Alastor could utter a word, a violent uproar erupted as someone crossed the doors of the Hazbin Hotel. The boy, with desperation painted in every gesture, advanced towards you, his face contorted by a mixture of anguish and obsession.

You turned your head at the sound, and in an instant, the air was laden with the weight of your darkest memories. There he was, the author of your past tragedy, his presence throwing you back to the night when your mortal life faded away in a burst of madness.

"You...!" Your voice, a trembling echo of the fear still throbbing in your heart, rose with a shiver. Instinctively, you recoiled from him, as if mere contact could return you to the abyss from which you had escaped.

The boy, desperate to be heard, cried out your name amid messy apologies, his words resonating in the tense air. But each apology, each excuse, only served to push you further away, as if his very presence were a living reminder of your nightmares.

Alastor, watching the scene with sadistic amusement dancing in his eyes, couldn't resist the opportunity to intervene. With a twisted smile and a malicious glint in his gaze, he planted himself between you and the intruder, stopping him in his tracks with a presence that chilled the bones.

The boy halted at the imposing figure of Alastor, his countenance drenched in terror as the Radio Demon unfolded his dark theater before them.

"What do we have here?" Alastor's voice rang out, filled with theatricality and a sinister undertone. His words cut through the tense silence like a sharpened knife. "It seems someone has decided to intrude on our little paradise here at the Hazbin Hotel."

The boy recoiled at Alastor's imposing presence, his eyes widening with palpable fear at the sight of the infamous Radio Demon.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble," the boy stammered, his words stumbling over each other in his desperation, his eyes frantically searching for an escape in the labyrinth of shadows looming over him.

A guttural laugh emerged from Alastor's throat, echoing in the space between them and causing the boy to tremble even more. "Oh, but you have caused trouble, haven't you? Wouldn't you agree, ma chére?" Alastor redirected his gaze towards you, a spark of sinister curiosity shining in his crimson eyes.

Trembling, you nodded, feeling the weight of fear enveloping you like a dark blanket.

"I think this young man needs to learn... a lesson," Alastor continued, his smile spreading like the slit of a predator closing in on its prey, each step he took towards the boy slow, deliberate, like the clock of doom ticking away the time until his inevitable fate.

The boy retreated even further, trembling from head to toe as Alastor approached with a malicious smile on his lips, the promise of torment dancing in the air between them like a sinister infernal waltz.

While Alastor delighted in your stalker's agony, footsteps echoed in the background, approaching rapidly. Fear surged through you at the thought of others witnessing the scene you had just witnessed. With your heart pounding in your chest, you decided to discreetly slip out of the spotlight, moving away to avoid being involved.

As it began, so it ended. Charlie and Vaggie appeared at the top of the stairs, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion at the sound of the agonized screams that had echoed in the lobby. But upon arrival, everything seemed calm, as if the calm had devoured the chaos that had reigned moments before.

Alastor, with his eternal smile and sinister elegance intact, licked his lips lightly with his finger as he watched the scene with satisfaction. Your face, now calm and serene, reflected a tranquility that contrasted with the turbulence that had invaded your mind just moments before. You were a portrait of perfection, as if the tension and fear had never touched your being.

"Did something happen?" Charlie's voice cut through the silence, her eyes scanning the surroundings for answers as she descended the stairs. "I thought I heard the door minutes ago."

"Oh, yes, it was a sinner seeking redemption," Alastor replied with a soft laugh, his tone carefree, hiding the darkness lurking behind his words. "But it seems he had a sudden revelation and decided to leave."

Alastor's explanation seemed to satisfy Charlie, although a shadow of doubt crossed her face for a brief moment. Vaggie, on the other hand, watched the scene with palpable caution, as if suspecting that something more was happening beneath the apparently calm surface of the Hazbin Hotel.

Before Vaggie could express her doubts about Alastor's words, your voice rang out in the air like a firm and determined echo. "Shouldn't you be with the new guests, Charlie?" Your voice, imbued with apparent serenity, cut through the air with authority. "It took me some effort to get them here, don't make them leave." With a tranquil smile, you winked at Charlie, who understood the message instantly and, with a quick gesture, bid farewell to Alastor and you to take Vaggie by the arm and head towards where she had left the newcomers.

Alastor glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his smile widening at the sight of your impassive face, a mask of calm that hid the chaos swirling beneath the surface. "I didn't think you were such a good liar," Alastor murmured with a tone between amused and admiring, leaning slightly to be at eye level with your face. "Now I understand why you're so perfect for the media, ma chére."

"Thank you for ending my nightmare, Alastor," you replied with sincere gratitude, your words causing a swell in Alastor's ego that he could barely contain. With that simple phrase, you intended to retreat to your room, but Alastor stopped your movement by taking your wrist firmly.

"Wait, do you think my help is free?" His smile widened even more, revealing his teeth in a sinister grin. "For this little favor I've done you, I'll ask you for something in return. Something easy." His eyes gleamed with unsettling intensity. "Every time I ask you something, I expect an honest answer. I don't want your false words."

Alastor released your arm and bid farewell with a graceful gesture, leaving you there, with the weight of his request resonating in your mind like a persistent echo in the darkness.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor

[i-put-the-hot-in-psychotic]

Target Acquired Part 2 (NSFW)

Pairings: Keegan. P. Russ x Soldier! Reader

Enemies to Lovers Trope MDNI, NSFW

Summary: In a mission trying to find some important intel with Task Force 141, you are pulled into a dimly lit room, the heavy door slamming shut behind you. Sharp words exchanged, trying to assert dominance over the other, yet an unspoken connection that neither wants to admit, turns into something more intimate.

Disclaimer: MDNI!, NSFW, 18+ This story will contain curse words, war themes, and NSFW sexual themes. I know Keegan and the new game do not have anything to do with each other but for the plot and sexiness sake, no hate and enjoy reading! This is purely fictional!

Word Count: 3,888

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexual themes, curse words, sexual acts, blowjobs, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, female orgasm, male orgasm, slight m dom.

Part 1

Keeping your rifle close, you slowly make your way through the dark corridors of this middle of nowhere base. Laswell had said they had some intel on Makarov and needed to infiltrate this base, slowly, quietly, and surly enough Task Force 141 was the perfect fit to go.

Pacing slowly through the corridor, illuminated by only blue light, you had to keep an eye out on both sides, from your left, the windows to the inner base, to your right doors leading to IT rooms, security cameras, and most likely would contain enemies.

It had been months since you had heard or seen Keegan. In all honestly what happened in that abandoned warehouse still finds a way to creep in your mind, especially in moments you don’t want to. Looking to your left to check if the coast is clear, a hand grabs your mouth applying pressure and pulling you in a nearby room. You freeze when you feel a big hand over your mouth, not daring to make a sound. You keep absolutely still, not moving a muscle as your heart starts to race. Even though having years of training the initial shock and the increase of heart rate still settles deep down in your stomach. This is going to be fun you think besides yourself. How could you have not heard them creep behind you. You start evaluating what they might ask or worse getting ready for the Russian torture you were about to endure.

A sigh leaves your lips, you can’t let Laswell down, the Task Force.

No.

Keeping calm and letting your anger stay contained, you elbow your aggressor with the butt of your rifle, turning on him and aiming. Upon looking at your aggressor, seeing him groaning in pain face in his hand he winces “Fuck Y/N”.

You straighten yourself upon hearing your voice you look at his ice-coloured eyes.

"Keegan?"

What is he doing here? How did he find you? For a moment, he stares at you in shock. He was.... surprised to say the least. "What the hell are you doing here? This is Task 141’s deal not yours?" His face remains unmoving but there is a hint of amusement in his eyes. He leans against the wall opposite you, placing his arms behind him. "I came because I wanted to see you." He said in a quiet voice. "Right" you reply rolling your eyes. "You have seen me now, now let me go back to work before you get us both killed" He raises an eyebrow. "Price asked me to come." he answers your question. "Why are you so cold?..." he whispers. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. Something else is at play here. Having enough of his bullshit you make you way out of this tech room you’re in. "Can I ask you one more question before you go?" You turn towards him, "What is it with you and your questions?" "I just want to know one thing..." There's a strange intensity in his eyes as he stares at you, almost like you are the most fascinating person he's ever seen. "Do you still think we are enemies?" With that you remain complete quiet, completely frozen. At this point in time, were we?

 No.

Your body wants to respond so desperately. Reason creeps through your skin. He hadn’t killed you, hadn’t hurt you last time nor now, as you would have thought. If he wanted to take advantage of you last time he easily would have. Biologically, he's completely stronger than you.

But enemies.

Your mind flashed to the dreams you had about him, how hot he made you feel. How his shoulders felt underneath your nails. How his mask scratched your cheeks. A shaky breath releases past your lips, still yet to respond. He watches, seemingly transfixed by your response. He watches you as your mind lingers on those thoughts you tried to suppress. He could tell what you were thinking... Finally, he speaks again. There's a strange tenderness in his voice, as if he's afraid to ask what he's about to ask but he needs to know the answer. "Have you been thinking about me?" "No" acting childish. "Have you?" You ask wanting to know if he genuinely had. His eyes widen slightly in surprise. He's not used to people not being honest with him. Especially not people like you. "Yes. A lot." He replies. "And I've been thinking how much I want to see you again."

His gaze is steady and intense, like he knows you can see the honesty in his eyes. You weren't expecting that answer. He had been thinking about you. Wait. What if this was all part of a plan. To get into your head. All the compliments. What if-. He shakes his head slightly like he somehow knows what’s going through your mind. "I'm not lying." The intensity in his eyes only grows, but he's trying to conceal it. He's not trying to be intimidating. He wants you to see his vulnerability. "Is this some sort of sick joke" you reply now getting hurt, angry. Was he playing you? He takes a small step toward you, his eyes filling with genuine emotion. "It's not a joke, it's not a trick or game. I'm as serious as I've ever been." His lips curl into a slight smile. "I can't stop thinking about you." His voice is laced with honesty and genuine feeling. He seems like he can't believe he is saying these words, but he can't stop. "Why here? Now? During an OP?” you state voice rising letting frustration eat away at your skin. He got closer to you, intruding on your personal space. “Make me believe you" you say close to him, face serious. You felt like he was lying. "Next time you see me it better not be some kind of sick job or a bullet because I won’t hesitate to pull my trigger" For a moment, he's taken aback by the boldness of your request. But he's not shocked. He steps forward again, this time closing the distance completely between you two. He stares you down, a small grin spreading across his lips. "I promise you... when I next see you, you won't be holding a gun. Or anything else for that matter." He speaks as if you are a part of his very soul, as if you already know exactly what he means. You look at his eyes. Captivating. You had only seen his face through the briefing never in real life. Curiosity killing you wanting to know what he looks like. Want to lift his mask up feel his skin. Sensing your eyes trying to take every detail, he can tell right away that you're curious about what he looks like beneath his mask. He's not used to this kind of attention, especially not from someone like you. Normally, you're so bold and confident, yet here you are, studying every aspect of him as if you're drawn to him. He's not used to this kind of vulnerability coming from someone like you. "Can I ask you a question?" "Mm" you respond with a whisper. "What if you saw me again but without the mask?" He asks. His eyes are fixed on yours and you sense the intensity of his gaze even from behind the mask. Its as if he's studying you, trying to see inside of you, hoping you'll let him. Hesitating to lift your hand towards his face. You were so close. You touch your fingers against his cheek feeling the warmth radiating from the mask. Holding his full cheek in your palm you slowly glide your finger where his lips rest underneath the mask. Eyes getting heavy, breathing non-existent. His eyes bore into yours watching you study him. His breath catches as your touch meets his skin. He doesn't pull away or try to stop you, on the contrary, it feels like he's allowing you to study every aspect of him. There is a calmness in his eyes that you've never seen before. He is vulnerable at this moment, exposing his entire being to you. A small smile spreads across his lips as your finger traces his mouth. He doesn't blink as he looks into your eyes. He is waiting for you to make the next move. Your hand fingers his mask underneath his shirt pulling it up slowly. He doesn’t move to stop you, but instead he takes in small inhale of air as you pull the mask up. Finally, edge of the mask in your hand. You stop and think.

Beat...

Beat...

You pull the mask up until it reaches his nose finally seeing his lips. Plump lips with a sharp jaw. Clean shaven and a few scars adorn his face. In a trance you touch his skin and both of you let out a breath you both have been holding but he doesn't move, even though you can see his entire body tremble. He is breathing hard, and he is enjoying this. He closes his eyes, and he lets out another deep inhale as you touch his skin. You trace your finger down his Adams apple and finally graze your thumb on his bottom lip. As he had his eyes closed, your hand wrapped around his throat applying just the right pressure, making him release a staggered deep groan. Fuck, your eyes flutter slightly. That sounded...hot. "Oh god... " Your touch is electrifying, causing him to tremble all over his body. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can barely catch his breath. The slight pressure around his throat feels good somehow. He opens his eyes and looks back at you. The moment his eyes meet yours, the entire tension is doubled. His hand wrap around your waist wanting to pull you closer, dick straining against his pants. He wants to ravage you, but he loves the small teasing you’re providing him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. Your body is pressed up against his, and he can feel your heart racing. He can't help but stare into your eyes, enjoying the moment, enjoying the way you make him feel. His hands move up your sides gradually, moving ever closer to the waist of your uniformed pants. As his fingers fondle the waist or your cargos, your thumb traces his bottom lip as he opens his mouth and grabs your thumb in between his teeth, slowly closing his lips around it and sucking on it. His lips are soft and warm, and you can't help but let out a small groan of pleasure. His hands are exploring your body, getting ever closer to the bottom of your jeans. "Fuck Keegan" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He looks into your eyes, his own now filled with such desire and need. "Say my name again..." he whispers. You moan his name "Keegan" small heavy breaths leaving your lips. His own meeting your neck. His body tenses slightly at the sound of your voice. He is overwhelmed with desire, and you can feel it in every part of his frame. Every move he makes now is calculated, as if he's going slowly on purpose to not lose the feeling. "Again..." his voice is barely audible, and you can feel his body trembling. "Keegan" you straight up moan now. Getting lost in his voice, in your desires.

His desires. "Again..." he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. Your body quivers and he press’ up against you even closer, feeling every inch of your body against his. Warmth was spreading all throughout your body, as he pushed you even closer towards him, chest plates hitting, making you feel his thickness rub against your thigh. Fuck he was hard. You rubbed your thigh against him as he leaned against a cabinet that was just behind you, on the left side of the room. The heat between your bodies is so intense, it's almost unbearable. The feeling of it is driving you both wild. His hands travel even higher, inching up your thighs. His touch is incredibly soft and tender at first then becoming more forceful. He's enjoying the teasing, letting the intensity build up slowly and not even trying to hide the fact that he is getting turned on. Getting the courage your hand travels towards his bulge and you wrap your hand around it. He hisses at the feeling of your small hand. Grabbing your wrist, you stop shocked at what might have been an overstep. Holding your wrist he unbuttons his black cargo pants, unzipping them, eyes intensely on your face, eyes heavy lidded wanting to see how you might react. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He freed himself from his restraint, adjusting himself now to being free. Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of how big he was. He stroked himself before placing your hand, that was still bound by his wrist, around him wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. He released a staggered breath as you begun to stroke him. His eyes closed head dropping towards his chest. Upon stroking your thumb felt his wetness on his tip, which you took as a sign to spread it around his head, lip between your teeth. Moaning under your ministrations you couldn’t help but look at him. Still with his helmet on, eyes closed, panting, dick in your hand stroking him and shamelessly mask atop his face not concealing his identity well, at least the lower part of his face, as the deep soft groans leave his lips. "That’s it baby" he whispers. "Just like that" he encourages, making you want to please him more. You couldn’t take it anymore. Eyes now full of lust, mouth thick to the brim with salvia you made you way down on your knees and kissed his head. He opened his eyes at the soft feeling of your lips against his cock. He couldn’t believe it; his mind was playing tricks on him. He saw you kissing his cock making your way down to his base than licking your way up to this shaft. “Fuck” he whispered. If you kept teasing him like that he was about to - "Ah" he groans eyes tightly closing upon feeling your wet, warm mouth sucking him off. "Jesus Y/N". Eyes closed you take him in deeper in your mouth wanting to feel him at the back of your throat, but he was so thick it was seeming to be difficult.

You continue wetting his cock with your tongue, going up and down, his hand now wrapped in your hair bun, although with how tight he’s holding it, it won’t remain a bun much longer. He angles his hips to go in deeper, but you hold him in your fist as you start to feel consumed by him, air refusing to enter your lungs. "Take it baby. That's it. Good girl." he pushes his hips toward your face. You felt him hit your gag reflex holding your head with his hands until finally pulling away, a line of spit still hanging from your lips to his cock, eyes watery. He pulls you up standing on your feet and quickly goes to unbutton your pants. Pushing them of your legs you hesitate, as you were both still on a mission. He reassures you that no one is going to enter, and if so, those who do see would leave as they would see what you were doing. They would think that a guard on duty just got lucky. Turning sides, now you’re the one leaning against the metal cabinet. His lips meet the underside of your ear. "Y/N" he moans as he slightly nips your skin. "Can I touch you?" He asks hand resting on your hip, tracing your navel wanting to go down, and feel how wet you have gotten and gather it on his fingers. "Please" you whisper. "Please Keegan. I need you" Your pleading drove him crazy, pushing himself towards you. Bare cock rubbing against your stomach. As he couldn’t tease himself enough, he asked "Where do you need me?" lips just inches away from your lips. You hesitate. Is he really going to make you tell him. "Y/N" he whispers using his other hand to lift your face, meeting your heavy-lidded watery eyes. He looks serious. "I asked you a question. Where do you need me?".

Your mouth parts, pussy clenching into nothing, clit screaming for just the right of amount of pressure. Slick now dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, feeling like you’re going crazy. Never in your years have you ever felt like this. Felt warm like this or gotten wet like this. It was driving you insane. "I need you in me. I need to feel you stretch me. I need to feel how thick you are inside of me" you confess. Upon your confession he pushes himself harder against you, your ass hitting deeper against the cabinet his fingers finally pushing on the bundle of nerves between your legs earning a moan from your lips. He feels how wet you are and nearly looses himself, his cock twitching.

He rubs your folds not wanting to waste anymore time away from you. He slowly pushes his finger inside you, wet and ready for him your pussy takes his finger with ease. You both moan at the intrusion. Keeping his finger there, he breathes hard against you, feeling your warmth wrapping around him.

Finally, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss, both mouths slightly agape, his eyebrows furrowed at your heat as he starts to move his fingers back out, then pushing them back in. He increases his pace, fingers now dripping wet and inserts another. His fingers are thick, long, and strong not compared to your small ones, filling you up in all the right places. You grab his arm feeling the bulging muscle of his biceps. "Keegan" you moan. "You like that Y/N?" he asks as his pace continues to increase. "You like my fingers stretching you out, fingering you huh?"

"Yes" you exclaim "Good girl" he kisses you. "Getting ready to take me inside you." You nod at that wanting to take his cock. He lifts you up on the cabinet and aligns himself to your entrance. Fuck he was thick, the sight alone with his head stroking your pussy nearly made you cum right than and there. "Ready princess?" he asks, and he moves you closer to him if that was even possible. "Yes" you say as you wrap your hands around his neck. The initial push was electrifying. He was thick and it made you feel like you were on fire. Hot moans coming from you meet his ear, not until he grabs your face in his hand and kisses you again. He continues to push into you as his lips are against yours breathing deeply. The stretch was nothing compared to his fingers. You couldn’t help but call out to him. "Shh, its ok" he replies. "You’re doing so good for me. You’re taking it so well." He says as he finally pushes all the way into you. You felt like you couldn’t move. He begun to pull out and push back in. Looking at you he saw his world. He wanted to savor the moment deep in his memory. How your eyebrows creased, how your lips were parted how he wanted to make you feel like this. Him. Only him. His thrusts continued, wet sounds all over the room driving the both of you wild. "Keegan" you call to him. "Yes" he replies worried that he might have hurt you. "I’m close" you reveal to him. It was music to his ears. His thrusts continued with depth and rhythm edging you. "Cum for me. Cum for me princess. Let me feel you. That’s it" he continued to whisper for you. A static sound was heard from the left side of your chest plate startling the both of you. It hit a second time.

" Bravo 8, you ok. Over?" You want to stop body going rigid. Fuck, it was Simon. Keegan continues to push into you. "Keegan wait". "Bravo 8, Are you with us? Over" you hear again less patient from the radio com. Fuck it’s been a while since you replied or radioed your team. Keegan looks at you with a smirk, "Don’t worry it hasn’t even been 15 minuets. They worry for you too much". At that Keegan thrust deep into you making your head roll back, making you forget your worries. "You’re going to make me cum, princess" he whispers in your ear. His thrusts increase in motion build up wanting finally to release.

"Y/N" now you hear your own name not your call sign.

Its Price. "Are you ok? Over."

You’re a whimpering mess around Keegan as he continues to thrust into you. He pulls slightly back, finger against his lips showing you to stay quiet. Confused your brows furrow, until you see the devilish look cast over his eyes as he grabs the button of your radio com, and he pushes into you, deep, feeling his cock hit your cervix keeping you in place. He smirks as he waits for you to reply to your captain. You bite your lip trying to regain some composure for your voice not to give away of your activities.

This was your captain, your team. "All good Captain. Over" you say as Keegan smirks and releases the button sending your message. Fuck that was hot. You couldn’t hold on much longer and you clench around Keegan. You moaned as he whispers in your ear "You want me to fill you up?" Your radio com responds "Fuck, where are you?" The captain states leaving the honorifics behind. "Fuck" this can’t be happening, not now. Not when you’re so close to cumming. Keegan's statement makes you go feral, imaging his thick cum painting your walls, dripping out of you. Keegan presses the com button,

"West Wing" you reply breathlessly. "You’re going to cum for me huh, going to get filled up with my cum in the west wing" he taunts in your ear. "I’m coming for you. Over" Keegan laughs at your captain’s message. "Captains’ join’ in on the fun huh." he smirks, before feeling you clench against him. "Fuck Y/N." His thrust continues, panting heavily as he grabs your hips and presses your com. "Tell him you’re doing just fine." He whispers in your ear as he fucks deeper into you, jealousy laced through his teeth.

"You’re way over than ok." He pushes deeper. "You will meet them at the south wing nearing the backdoor of the grounds”.  You repeat breathless what he says to you.

"Cause at the moment, you are about to come around my cock" Keegan taunts as he gives one last big push, cock pulsating in you. You feel his hot warm cum hit deep inside you and he releases his load into you. You can’t help but moan with pleasure as you clench around him, your own orgasm hitting you, releasing. His hips still deep in you his heavy breathing meets yours. "Meet you there" is heard over the comms. "You sure you’re ok?" captains voice asks again "Never better" you reply breathlessly.

#call of duty #cod #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #cod keegan #cod x reader #captain john price #ghost cod #keegan russ x reader #mask #smutty #smut #smutty smut smut #smutty fanfiction #smutty thoughts #keegan x you #john price #soapghost #ghost x you #call of duty ghosts #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #intimacy #lust #desire #passion #x reader

[lunajay33]

Change Part.4

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Daryl had gifted me these Ballerina slippers, I couldn’t take them off at home, I had practiced the swan dance with them it made me feel really special like he actually cared about me and my interests, then there was a knock at my door it was really late at night so I didn’t know who it was, I left my room walking out to the front door opening up the door and Daryl was there hunched over bloody and groaning

I was the only one home so I didn’t have to worry about Jackson or my parents coming out and making a scene, I wrapped my arm around his waist and steadied him with my other hand against his chest, leading him inside into the bathroom so he could sit on the floor, I rummaged through my cabinet looking for a first aid kit completely panicking

I grabbed it as I saw it tucked back in the corner, grabbing a cool wet cloth and sitting infront of him

“Daryl, what happened?” I asked as my voice shock, he was busted and blue all over and he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, I gently patted the cool cloth over his forehead swooping his hair back

I didn’t push him obviously he just wanted to sit in silence, whatever happened it was brutal and if I were him I wouldn’t wanna be in a chatty mood either, I continued to wash away the blood on his face and arms, sanitizing any cut I came across placing bandaids over the deeper ones wishing I could do something about his bruising

“Is there anywhere else I can help?” I asked just above a whisper as to not spook him wanting to keep him relaxed

He turned his back to me and slowly reached back and lifted his shirt up to his to his shoulders revealing some old deep welted scars and some fresh bleeding ones, so deep it hurt to think how he got them, I rinsed out my cloth and soaked it again since it was already filled with blood, cleaning and sanitizing having to cover them in bandages due to the size of them, my heart bleed for him, who would hurt Daryl he was the sweetest person in the world he deserved all the happiness it offered

“One sec” I threw the cloth in the sink and left to my room finding a oversized black shirt I had for sleeping and some bigger sweatpants, and a pair of boxers I had got once thinking they were pj shorts, bringing them back to the washroom

“Here you can change into these when you’re ready I’ll just be right outside the door if you need help” I said hearing him grunt as I closed the door

I heard shuffling around until the door opened and we made eye contact, I didn’t move and neither did he until……….his arms were wrapped around my and his face buried in my shoulder, I softly wrapped my arms around his waist

“I’m here for you Daryl, always”

He pulled back looking down at me with such dread in his eyes

“Can…..can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, I told you before you’re welcome to stay with me whenever you need, come on” I lead him to the kitchen getting him a glass of water and making a quick sandwich for him just incase he hadn’t had supper, I say with him in silence as he finished up

“Thanks”

“No problem” I placed the dishes in the washer holding my hand out to him he quickly took it and we went back to my room

“You can get in bed I gotta get in pjs too” I said smiling as he plopped down on the bed

As I was picking out some clothes he spoke up

“Yer wearing em” I looked back seeing he was looking at my feet, the slippers

“Oh ya, I was…….. “practicing” when you came, I love them” I smiled as I took them off and laid them on my cabinet

I quickly changed and laid in bed next to him, still leaving some space since we’ve never done this before

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Nah Angel, ya did more than enough” he smiled weakly

“Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

“I ain’t ever told anyone…….its my old man, mean prick” he said breaking eye contact

“You’re staying here from now on, or atleast when you feel you need a break” I said placing my hand in his under the blankets between us

“Wish I could stay with ya just me and you”

“Maybe one day, we could start over together and actually be happy” I said thinking about what that life would look like what we could be

“We can……….we will”

•12 Years Later🩷

“Daryl Come on you’re going to be late for work!” I yelled out as I pored some coffee into two thermos’

Daryl came rushing out of the washroom buttoning up his plaid shirt huffing and puffing

“Sorry just real tired from work” he said as he leaned in kissing me gently still as gentle as he was when we shared our first kiss so many years ago

“Well since tomorrow is Saturday and we’re both off how about we have a special day together, I’m all your Mr Dixon” I winked handing him over his coffee

“Can’t wait Mrs Dixon” he smirked

As I was at work grading papers I kept thinking about all the moments that lead to my life now, Daryl and I assigned as partners, becoming friends, then that night he came over injured from his demon of a father, after that things kind of snowballed we continued to hang out, he stayed over more nights growing our relationship stronger, eventually he asked me to and I quote “be his girl” obviously excepting, after graduation with both our save money we were able to get a little apartment in Atlanta while I studied to become a teacher and he worked at an auto body shop, once my schooling I was done we found a little cabin like house in the woods around the outskirts of our home town, sure it was conflicting but now that my family had moved away and it was only Merle around sometimes it felt more comfortable to be where we met and set our roots, the day we moved in and it was just the two of us he proposed with a little silver ring he made himself

•Flashback

“Hey Angel can ya get me that box on the counter?” Daryl asked pointing to a little green box laid amongst the clutter from the days move

“Sure!” As I picked it up and turned to hand it to him he was down on one knee rubbing his hands together his way of showing his nerves

“Baby?”

“Angel, the day ya stepped into my life I knew it was gonna change, my lil ballerina, never thought I’d be so lucky ta get a woman as sweet as ya but I wanna spend the rest of this life with you, will ya marry me Angel?”

•

We got married down at town hall, I wore a knee length canvas colors woven dress as he wore his nicest plaid that matched my dress and that night…….well it was a night to remember forever, I got a job at the school I grew up in and he got another job fixing motorcycles at a shop and that leads to now, I was incredibly happy with our lives I only wished I got to become a ballerina, Daryl use to watch me dance in my room sometimes helping me stretch and help with certain moves and still bought me anything ballerina or swan lake related, I even had a little collection in the spare room of our house but maybe………..maybe this little baby girl would like dance aswell I thought as I rubbed my little bump

Daryl and I didn’t really talk about kids much but here I am, 3 months pregnant and Daryl was more excited than I thought he’d be, even more gentle with me, treating me like glass it was adorable though, over the years I noticed he got more harsh with people I know deep down it’s because of his past but he was never like that with me and we always had talks when he was ready about things that happened to him, but every part of this man I love with my whole heart he changed my life for the better

I was broken out of my thought when one of my students called out to me

“Mrs Dixon what are those people doing out there?” Little Melanie asked pointing out the window

I got up and glanced outside to where the supposed problem was and what I saw caught my breath, people limping around ripping and biting into the flesh of others

“What the hell”

Please lmk what you think and what you’d like to see in the story going forward, any notes or advice is appreciated 🩷🎀

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon series #twd #the walking dead series

[arlathavellan]

The Silence Left in My Wake

Fandom: ACOTAR

Pairing: (past) Rhysand x Reader, Azriel + Reader, Morrigan + Reader, Cassian + Reader

Reader: she/her, High Fae, Y/N used

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

<<request>>

For a while, you had convinced yourself they would come for you. Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan... Rhysand. It was the one hope you held onto over the years. But fifty years is a long time to hope for something that will never happen. || The world keeps spinning when we're gone. Unfortunately for you, that means when you're finally free after over fifty years of captivity, nothing is the same. Once told you would marry the love of your life and become his Lady of Night, you come come face-to-face with your new reality, and reunite with the family you had been waiting on to save you.

The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream. You had no hopes, no freedom, no choice in the life you would live.

Then came the High Lord; Rhysand. A dark force of nature, who came into your life like a terrific storm and upended everything you thought you knew. With Rhysand, you let your walls crumble, let yourself imagine a life outside of that mountain. There were politics to navigate before he could steal you away, of course, but he assured you that one day he'd sweep you off into his City of Dreams and make you his wife, his Lady.

But The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream.

Rhysand had the perfect story to spin for your father; a proper marriage alliance with the High Lord himself. Your father was not the ambitious fool your lover took him for. He knew there would be no true alliance, that marrying you off would be no better than sending you away to never hear from you again. After all, Morrigan was at his side, and Keir was no better in his good graces for it.

Cassian and Mor both advocated for taking you anyways, but you agreed with Azriel when he argued all the ways that could end badly. As much as you wanted out of that mountain, you wanted to truly be free from it. So, Rhysand continued his painstaking negotiations, with his patience whittling down to nothing. Compromise seemed impossible between the two bull-headed fae, and you began to wonder if the end was in sight.

Then, the worst came to pass.

Amarantha, who you had been carefully hidden from upon her visit to Hewn City (one of the only things Rhysand and your father could agree on), forever changed the the course of fate in one fell swoop.

It was Azriel who had visited you that morning, half-hidden in the shadows in case your father or one of his servants entered your room. He told you of the meeting Rhysand had been invited to with the other High Lords, Amarantha hoping to “make amends” for her actions during the war. He told you of Rhysand's plans to finally take you to Velaris, father be damned, before she was made aware of your existence.

"Pack only what you need," Azriel had said. "If Rhysand doesn't make it, I will come get you myself— Mor and Cassian have been preparing for you all morning."

You had laughed, sending him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek as he melted back into the darkness, his shadows curling around the hand you’d held against his jaw.

That was the last you had heard from them. For the next fifty years, you were well and truly alone.

-----

That night, your father had stormed into your room while you were getting your bag together. Grabbing it and you, he dragged you down to the dungeons and threw you in a cell with a simple “be quiet, and stay safe.”

It wasn't often that your father came to visit you himself. His visits became more and more scarce over the first few years, until you would go years before seeing him again. He looked more haggard every time. You were so lonely that you started to miss him.

You took solace in the darkness at first, but it soon became your greatest torment. Something would move in the corner of you eye and your heart would soar, thinking maybe—just maybe—those familiar shadows had found you. Maybe you would soon be free.

The wraith servants who brought you your food were your only company, and they barely said a word. The room was smaller than your bedroom, not much more than a cell with a bed, desk, and bookcase thrown in, and the bathroom had you longing for your carved tub.

No one would tell you anything. Screaming yourself hoarse got tiring after a while, and your father remained outwardly unmoved by your tears. A dread had crept into your chest, wondering if he had discovered Rhysand's plans to take you away to Velaris. He never mentioned it, but the timing couldn't have been more suspicious. No one had come for you, not even Azriel. How had he stopped even the Shadowsinger from getting to you? Surely the High Lord and his Spymaster had access to the Hewn City dungeon.

You stopped asking questions years ago. Now, you wallow in your monotony, reading every book on your shelf by dim candle light, and occasionally letting those delivering your food know that you needed new ones. They'd always bring you more the next morning, your father's scent, fir and petrichor, faint on the covers and pages. Some nights, when the isolation grew to be too much, you'd hold onto them and cry. You never thought you'd miss the days of your childhood, of him teaching you personally from his own library. You never thought you'd miss your father.

He'd never been like Keir, never treated you the way Mor was, but you'd certainly never have called him loving. And now, he'd locked you in a heavily warded cell and refused to tell you why. You started to feel an odd kinship with the monster you knew lurked beneath the stone, trapped here as you were, only seeing someone when it was time to be fed.

Time blurred together. How long had it been since Rhysand had promised to marry you, since Mor promised a shopping trip, Cassian promised to train you, and Azriel promised to make sure you made it to Velaris? Why had no one come for you?

"Who?" you ask, voice shaking as you sit up in your bed. "Why did you do this to me?"

Then, you’re woken one morning to some answers from your father.

"I'm sorry," he says, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back to you. "I couldn't let them find you. They would have torn you to pieces just to hurt him."

A tense silence falls on the room. "Amarantha trapped the courts Under the Mountain. Rhysand stood at her side for fifty years, and his Inner Circle were unreachable."

Your heart plummets in your chest at his admission.

"I told Keir you were gone, that they had taken you before they disappeared," he continues, voice oddly soft. "I couldn't reach his daughter or the Spymaster, or even that damned General to take you away from here. He told Amarantha about you, wanting to get in her good graces, and she had that damn Attor tear the manor apart looking for you."

He runs a hand down the wall your headboard is against, and you get a peek at new scars across his skin as his sleeve falls at the motion. "This cell is warded heavily. If Rhysand knew you were in here, he was good at hiding it. But Keir kept sending his Darkbringers to check every so often, either hoping to catch me off-guard or just remind me of where I stand. This was the only place I could think of that even they wouldn’t search."

"What happened?" You finally ask. "Why tell me now?"

"Feyre Cursebreaker," he says with a resigned tone. "High Lady of the Night Court, and Rhysand's mate. She defeated Amarantha, and now we’re preparing for war with Hybern."

Nausea rises in your throat. Out of everything he said, Amarantha, Keir, war—one fact continues to ring in your head. "His mate."

“I’ve tried to get into contact with them since they reemerged, but they’ve refuse to hear me.” He looks back at you, and you wonder if his gaze has always looked so empty. “If Keir knows you are alive, he will kill us both. The High Lord’s lackeys are the only ones who can get you out safely.”

The stress of your situation settles heavily on your shoulders. “So I’m stuck here. Is that what this is leading up to?”

You watch his brows pinch as he considers for a long moment. With a weary sigh, he stands from your bed. “I’ll bring some stationery.”

He drags a heavy hand down his face, but makes no move to deny it.

“Let me write a letter,” you say. “They may not listen to you, but I may have more luck.”

-----

News of the war ending comes long before any response. A letter a month for three months, before they start getting sent back. Perhaps that in itself is a response. The first time he brings a letter back, you let yourself break down. It had been years since you had any hope hopes to crush, but you had let yourself imagine for a moment that it could all be over.

What was even waiting for you out there, now? Your future had been stolen from you the moment the High Lords put their trust in Amarantha, the moment Keir turned his gaze your way. Perhaps it was always supposed to happen like this, with you alone in the end and Rhysand with his mate and High Lady.

In the end, it's Keir who lets it slip and hands you the key to your freedom. Keir, whose mouth works faster than his brain, who looks for any opportunity to hurt his daughter. Keir who sneers, asking how Rhysand’s Hewn City pet felt about being pushed aside for Feyre Archeron.

And it's that daughter who finds you. Holed up in your cell, sitting on your bed and reading anything you can find to take your mind off of your eternal solitude.

It scares you, the way she throws the door open. Her eyes are wide, breath ragged, as if she'd run all the way down to the dungeon instead of the simple winnow she'd more likely done. You hold her gaze, eyes burning as the silent disbelief stretches between you. Setting your book down carefully, you stand from the bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make her disappear. She stumbles forward, and you find yourself meeting her halfway as her arms wrap around you almost too tightly.

"I thought he was lying," she says, voice shaking. "I wanted him to be lying. I wanted to go back up there and tear his tongue from his lying mouth and—"

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you manage, squeezing her just as tightly.

"Rhys said you were dead, Y/N," she presses. "Your father—"

"Has been trying to tell you all."

A sob chokes its way through her throat, and you're soon joining her. You hear her try to ask more questions, most starting with why, but she seems to find the answers herself before she even gets them out.

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you repeat.

Your reunion doesn't last in peace much longer.

"We have to tell them," she says, face buried in your neck. "Cassian, Azriel— fuck, Y/N, we had a funeral for you. There's a bird bath in the garden with your name carved into it, we thought you were dead. Cauldron, we were just down here, how did we not…"

Pulling from her, you wipe your damp face with your sleeve. She doesn't let you go too far, an arm still wrapped firmly around your waist as she dabs at her own watery eyes.

"I'm getting you out of here." The words you wanted to hear all these years, feeling like a dagger to the heart.

"Mor," you sigh. "I don't know if I can go to Velaris anymore. It's been so long, but I don't know if I can stand in front of him and his mate and say I'm happy for him without breaking."

She cradles your cheek with her free hand, resolute. "Azriel should have taken you with him. He's regretted it every day, leaving you here. We won't make that mistake again. I have a place you can stay at, at least until you figure out what you want to do. But, please, don't ask me to leave you here."

Hesitation grips you tight, the fear of opening your heart up to hope once more. But the look in her brown eyes, her hands warm against your cheeks, has you nodding. "Okay. I'll go."

Her lips smash against your forehead, and you wonder idly if she left a smear of red behind as she pulls away to start grabbing your belongings.

The first time she winnows you into a forest, you cry. Maybe a single tear rolling down your cheek would have felt more poetic, but you're left with the embarrassing kind of chest-shaking sobs.

"It's okay," she murmurs, rubbing your back. "There's going to be a lot of that. Just let it out when it hits you."

Her attempts at lightening the mood are mostly successful, but a lingering dread persists in your gut as you get closer to Velaris. You trust Mor not to drag you there against your will, but there was nothing your mind was better at than exploring worst-case scenarios. The journey thankfully passes without incident, and as you set your bag down on her living room floor you find yourself buzzing with some kind of anticipation.

"Tell them." The sound of your voice has her head snapping to you, eyes wide. "I need a bath first, but… tell them. I can't ask you to lie for me, not to them."

Mor shows you to your room, and you do indeed take your bath. Feeling a little greedy with the hot water, you soak and scrub a little more than usual as you watch the trees outside the window.

A pained expression crosses her face as she takes you into her arms once more. As you wrap yourself around her in turn, you wonder the last time you've ever been held this much in your eighty-odd years.

"Take your bath," she says, voice soft. "There are very few things they'd drop to be here."

How did you ever survive inside of a mountain, never knowing the world outside? Would you survive if you were ever made to go back?

-----

You help Mor set the table. Adjusting plates to hide your shaking hands, rearranging silverware to keep your mind occupied. Eventually, she perks up with a shaking breath.

“Cas and Az are on their way,” she says, slowly sinking into her chair. Relief and disappointment grapple for control at the sound of the short list. The look she gives you does nothing to help.

“Feyre just… had a baby. She and Rhys won’t be leaving Velaris if they can help it.” A baby.

You manage a smile, as painful as it is genuine. “Tell them I understand, please. And that I’m happy for them.”

Her hands reach out across the table, taking yours and rubbing circles into your scrubbed-sore skin. “I’m so sorry this is how things happened. If we knew you were in there—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you interrupt. “Not really. But I’m out now.”

Squeezing her hands in reassurance, you watch her expression crumble. Desperate to change the conversation, a thought comes to you.

“Could we… eat outside?” Her head lifts at your words, eyes widening slightly. “I saw a table on the patio out back, and as lovely as your home is I don’t think I’ve gotten enough of… outside.”

She laughs, something happy and sad all at once as your words seep in. “Yeah. Yeah, we can eat outside. It’s nice out, anyways. Staying in would be a waste of a perfectly good sunset.”

And just like that, you once again busy yourself with setting the table. This time, however, your guests arrive before you can readjust the silverware. They sound like thunder as they near the patio, their wings covering you in momentary darkness. Then, a literal darkness as Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in a miniature tornado, checking for themselves that you’re you, and you’re alright.

“What the fuck,” Cassian begins, as eloquent as ever.

Mor comes behind you as you turn towards them, placing a grounding hand against the small of your back.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, no one knowing quite where to begin, before Cassian rushes in as he does best and sweeps you off your feet. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, holding him tightly as he swings you around. What feels like a sentient breeze plays with your hair and caresses your cheek, and you find yourself in another pair of arms as soon as your feet hit the ground.

Unspoken words hang heavy as Azriel carefully lowers you back onto the floor. From the lack of questions, you can deduce that Mor had filled them in as much as she could before their arrival. This wasn’t to be an interrogation.

“Who’s hungry?” She asks, pulling out a chair.

-----

Dinner is significantly less awkward than you had feared. Cassian and Morrigan do most of the talking, and a familiar darkness curls comfortingly around your leg whenever it feels you drifting someplace less pleasant.

“I think you’ll like Nesta,” Cassian says. “She can be a viper, but only if you’re trying to piss her off.”

You laugh as you push what’s left of your food around. “I hear she’s quite the reader. We’ll have some common ground at least.”

Mor’s breath hitches and you feel the shadows at your feet twitch in apprehension, but Cassian takes it in stride with a booming laugh. “Cauldron, I’d like to see that. Maybe you could expand each other’s horizons, start a book club.”

The topic dances around what you’re all trying to avoid; the one you’d been waiting to save you for over fifty years. Your head is spinning a bit from all the talking and laughing, but you fear if you send them home you’ll never see them again.

“Do you want to come to Velaris?” Azriel’s voice startles you so badly you nearly don’t even register the question.

“Az,” Mor hisses, all her delicate conversation work thrown out with one question.

You look at him as you consider your answer, and find he has no expectations written on his face. It’s not a probing question, no demand for a response. Just a friend asking where you stand.

“Eventually,” you say, voice quiet. “Maybe not yet.”

He nods, unwilling to press further, and motions for Cassian to continue.

“Not like we’d mind coming out here to visit,” the General says, barely missing a step. “Mor never lets us come around, now she can’t turn us away.”

She laughs, brushing off the earlier upset. “If I want to spend time with you all, I can do it at one of our, what is it, four houses in the city?”

The two continued their lighthearted bickering as you all finished up dinner, acting as if no time had passed. While you had time to mourn your lost future as Rhysand’s wife, you had truly missed the friendships that had been taken from you. Right on cue, as the dark thoughts began to creep in, you were pulled back out. This time not by the shadows lazing about your ankles, but their master himself, his warm hand covering yours on the table. His gaze is soft when you look at him, more vulnerable than you’re used to seeing him.

Mor’s words from earlier swim in your head. ‘He’s regretted it every day, leaving you here.’

Turning your hand over, you squeeze his back with a smile. “It seems we all have some catching up to do.”

“I can go into the city tomorrow and get some stuff for your room,” Mor says, clapping her hands together and drawing your attention. “This place is mine alone, so it’s home for as long as you’ll have it.”

All the laughing, smiling, and talking is starting to make your face hurt, but you can’t seem to stop. “Make sure you stop by a market. I’ve been craving blackberry pie for the last thirty-odd years, and I might just have to make it myself.”

Azriel squeezes your hand. “Elain can make one. I think she’d like to meet you.”

“She needs more friends,” Cassian says. “She might even wander off and turn that weed patch over there into a garden.”

“Hey!” Mor laughs. “Those aren’t weeds, they’re the natural flora of the area!”

You shrug. “They’re pretty to me. But I wouldn’t mind some flowers.”

The blonde smiles with a roll of her shining eyes. “Fine, she can plant some flowers.”

“Pushover!” Cassian shouts with a barking laugh.

In the morning, you’ll wonder if dinner even happened. If you were really free, if Mor, Cas, and Az were really here, wrapping arms and hands around you like the past fifty years had been a bad dream. You’ll lay there thinking about the future, about the one person you had been longing to see most who hadn’t been there at all. You’ll think about how to move forward, how to build a new life, and how to find your place in lives already built. You'll wonder why no one responded to your father, what had happened to your letters, why no one seemed to notice a cell in the dungeons being used for fifty years. Why Rhysand told them you were dead.

But for now, you think only of the people who are there, who are keeping your thoughts light and your glass full. No matter what happens, you know you’ll be able to keep walking forward, in whatever direction that may be in. So for tonight, you let those worries sit in the corner of your mind for another time.

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #arlathavellan: acotar #arlathavellan: fanwork

[anon-sect]

Story request by @thetfer

I had been going through my closet, looking at my clothes. Some of them are fans of my TF blog who wanted to be objects I own. Some of them are unwilling objects just because I decided to TF them for fun. Of course, not all them ended up being written about, but some were.

One day, while checking my DMs, I saw one who followed my blog, who was complaining about my TF activity. Thetfer was upset at what I had been doing. He was downright rude about it, in fact. I really didn't have an issue with turning my fans and followers into objects, but apparently, he did. So I decided to ignore his complaint.

After several weeks, thetfer messages were starting to get on my nerves, and something had to be done about it. I invited him to meet me at a local park to discuss his concerns in person. I assume he would be scared to voice his concerns in person, but he actually came.

Thetfer voiced that I was cruel for what I was doing and even threatened to call the authorities on my activities if I didn't cease. I had no intentions of stopping my TF fun. I remained silent while he talked. What he didn't know was that I have my TF device set up in my car pointing directly at the park bench we were sitting on. With remote in hand, I stood up and stepped a few feet from the bench. I hit the remote button. A ray of light struck him.

I watched as he quickly started shrinking in size. "You complained about my TF activity and that it wasn't fair. Now you get to see first hand why you really shouldn't have complained to me." I told him. He begged and pleaded for me to let him go, but I was too much enjoying the moment. I was looking forward to a fresh pair of insoles.

Finally, the transformation was complete. I picked up the insoles on the bench and brought them home with me. I laid them on the bed so that I could determine which pair of shoes to put them in.

These shoes was a fan that obsessed with me. So I decided if I was his obsession, he would be a perfect pair of shoes. Unfortunately, he wasn't very comfortable to wear, even though I wore him often. My foot odor saturated the insides of the poor loser. I almost felt bad for him, almost. Seeing that thetfer could make this loser more comfortable, I stuffed inside the foul stench.

I tried them on, and oh my goodness, the shoes felt much better to wear thanks to thetfer. I thought about thanking him, but who really gives praises to insoles. It's their job to make our shoes comfortable for us to wear. There was no need to thank it.

Thetfer was hurting painfully as anon-sect crushed him under his feet. He wished he had never gone to meet him or complain so much. He wished the pain was the only bad part, but the shoe he was in smelled so bad that he would have gaged if he had a physical mouth. It was the most foul foot odor he had ever encountered. He mentally pleaded to be set free. Anon-sect continued to keep the shoes on going about his day, not concerned about the well-being of his new insoles.

Thetfer had been insoles for about two weeks, being switched from shoe to shoe, serving anon-sect feet. It was a never-ending torture. No matter which pair of shoes he wore, he was always the insoles inside them. Nothing but daily torture. He thought this existed was hopeless till he heard his boyfriend confronting anon-sect about his whereabouts.

I was upset at seeing thetfer's boyfriend up in my face about his disappearance. Somehow, I thought I had gotten away like I always do. But I knew how to fix the issue. Fortunately for me, I also have a TF phone. I took it out quickly. I put in the setting of a pair of white AND1 socks. Before his boyfriend could figure out what was going on, I snapped the picture. He was gone. In his place was my new pair of socks.

I took off my shoes to speak to my insoles for the first time in a long while. "If you were hoping your boyfriend would rescue you, I am dashing your hopes right now. He is my socks. You really are a lucky pair of insoles. Who knows who you will deliver to me for me to transform them." I laugh as I take off my current socks and put on my new socks. They felt wonderful. "Your boyfriend is on my feet now. At least you will be close to him." I laugh more and put my shoes back on with my special pair of insoles inside them.

Thetfer mentally begged anon-sect for forgiveness and to let both of them go, but with no means to convey this, he saw that he and his boyfriend were stuck this way. It was a horrible existence to live the rest of his life serving his feet. He just wished he would just give him a day or two break instead of being used every day. Unfortunately, he was insoles and had no right to determine how much he was used.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #sock transformation #insole transformation #Fila shoe transformation #TF story

[emilybahu]

I love 9-1-1 so much!

I have fallen in love with tv shows before, watching episodes religiously as they aired weekly. 9-1-1 has been different for me though, it’s become more like an obsession. In some ways that’s bad, it’s consuming my mind a lot of times and it’s distracting me from other things I need to get done. However, really getting into the fandom of this show has also been wonderful for me, it’s made me so happy, actually getting involved with other fans and talking to people the last couple months has been so fun! You all are amazing, funny, talented people and I’m truly grateful that I’ve been able to interact with you!

Now, I’ve heard about some toxicity within the fandom, Buddie and BuckTommy shippers turning against each other and fighting about what’s best for the characters. (Which btw, isn’t really up to us anyway)

I personally haven’t seen a lot of that, who knows, maybe I’m just ignoring it because I don’t want to see it. Either way I always try to keep a very open and and neutral stance when it comes to shipping. I let myself enjoy the stories, the edits, the fan art, and the speculation. However, I also try to stay grounded in the reality of what’s happening in the movie/book/tv show.

When it comes to 9-1-1 right now, between Buddie and BuckTommy I’m not picking sides. I like both ships the same, and I don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon. I really, really enjoy both ships! (Plus the fan fiction for both are amazing, so I’m LIVING)

Buddie is part of the reason that I started watching in the first place, Buck and Eddie are my favorite characters. I love them both to death, and regardless of their relationship status they have something special, no one can deny that! Their friendship is beautiful and deep, they do truly love each other, they’re family, they will always be there for each other whether or not they end up in a romantic relationship. I’m honestly just happy to see them together in any capacity. And yes, I will happy, overjoyed even, if they decide to make Buddie cannon, but I’ll also be happy if their relationship remains as it is.

As far as Buck and Tommy go I was surprised when the kiss happened, but OH MY GOD… I was totally there for it! I’m actually really happy with this storyline so far, (even if the second hand embarrassment nearly killed me during the first date)I think that they’ll be great together, I really can’t wait to see them getting to know each other more! Wherever this goes, I’m here for it! I’m excited to see Buck explore his bisexuality with Tommy, and learn about himself through this relationship. I’m also excited to learn more about Tommy! And if they don’t end up being very long term, I really hope that they stay friends.

I’m really enjoying being into a ship that’s canon for once, it makes me really happy. I don’t think there’s ever been a ship (apart from these ones) that I’ve been into that have even had a remote chance of becoming cannon (Stucky… my first love!)

Anyway, I digress, the writers and the actors KNOW these characters, we know that if something felt off it the story, they’d want to do right by the characters. We know for a fact how much Oliver and Ryan love Buck and Eddie, and if it feels right and true to them Buddie will happen. If it doesn’t feel right to put them in a romantic relationship, to me, it’s fine because regardless we have these two men with an absolutely beautiful and meaningful friendship, and I’m always here for that!

All of this to say, all this fighting about “who’s right for who” isn’t doing anyone any good. I mean we’re all in this fandom because we love this show RIGHT!? Being on platforms like this is meant to bring us TOGETHER!

SO WHY THE HELL ARE SOME OF US TRYING TO RIP EACH OTHER APART BECAUSE WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS ON A DAMN SHIP!?

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions after all… so yeah, share your opinion, just don’t be rude about it. Putting someone down because they disagree with you doesn’t make you right… it just makes you mean. It scares people away, maybe makes them feel like they’re not safe in this community. I’ve seen it a couple times too, with myself and others, being afraid to make a post because of the possibility of hate.

In my experience you’re meant to feel safe in a fandom, in a community because you’re sharing your love for something with others who love it just as much as you do! We should love each other like we love these characters!

To conclude, all I need is for our boys to be happy, that’s really all we should care about here anyway. It shouldn’t necessarily matter who’s dating who, as long as they’re HAPPY! I’m really just along for the ride, I’m here for whatever they decide to do with Buddie and/or BuckTommy in the future. Buck and Eddie are my loves, and we barely know Tommy, but I’m starting to like him already, as long as they’re happy, I am too!

Thank you for reading my TedTalk…

Sorry if it doesn’t sound completely coherent, stringing words together isn’t always my strong suit…🫠

#911 abc #9-1-1 #buddie #bucktommy #tevan #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #time to rant #buck and eddie #I really love this show

[gammija]

i love s4, and im enjoying listening to it with the magaday, but i forgot it would also lead to the worst thing: seeing people interpret media differently than me on the internet OTL

#NOT a big deal #but as an enjoyer of nuance and complicated characters and the tragedy of people doing their best and still failing #I can't help but want to constantly correct posts saying 'Georgie said she prefered Jon dead!' (she didn't #; Jon accused her of that and Basira asked her to leave before they could talk it out) #and 'everyone is blaming Jon for Tim and Daisy's deaths' -> only Melanie is‚ as far as we've heard; #not that everyone is being nice or fair to jon; not at all #but this framing of the situation as jon on one side and everyone else on the other is just so much more boring #than the web of relationships and mistakes and misplaced blame that is implied #and the former is how you get analyses that are objectively wrong like 'no one let Jon speak in 199!!' -> literally by word count and #time spend speaking he talks the most out of anyone in the discussion #but it's not 50/50 jon/others because every character in tma is the protagonist of their own story #like of course it wouldve been nicer if georgie had immediately protested that she didn't want jon to die #but playing that out in my mind; it feels like exactly the kind of argument that jons ex specifically would be tired of having #even if the context is different now #and to me the way it's possible to construct these unspoken reasons and stories for the side characters is the coolest shit #and that's lost if Georgie just said 'I hoped you died Jon‚' because... ? because it's s4 so everyone is just mean to Jon? #even though she's the one visiting him in hospital in the first place? #joos yaps #delete later #nah she's just a mean girl. mean women bullying jon all season #nothing more to it than that

[rhinexstone]

I know there’s already been some hcs about Bruce Wayne going on a DC universe version of SNL but I just need to play it out for y’all

The whole bit is that this is the first time Brucie has ever taken anything so serious in his life, like the promo clip where he’s awkwardly standing with the music guest and a cast mate is basically like “I went to this thing called a meeting yesterday, have you guys ever heard of those before?? Wild!!” And Alfred makes a cameo in his opening monologue where he hands him his script on a silver platter.

But the thing that drives his family crazy is that he actually does a skit where he IS Batman. And they’re all freaking out because like holy shit Bruce there’s walking the line and using it as a jump rope. And he won’t elaborate on any of the specifics just that he actually pitched the idea himself.

The skit is basically just “what if Bruce Wayne was Batman” and it’s him trying to stop a mugging, but he immediately takes a tumble (his Instagram story hinted at stunt training and everyone had their theories, but it all being so that he could do a Buster Keaton-esque stunt is so much better). He freaks out at the sound of some warning fire and immediately surrenders despite the mugger really being equally afraid of him, and then a Villain of the Week captures him with ease, and he flirts the entire time he’s being dragged away.

He fucking kills it for someone without an acting background (to most people’s knowledge) and from that point on it’s a running joke/meme for gothamites to post or talk about what Bruce Wayne Batman would do in place of regular Batman

#dc comics #bruce wayne #batfam #Gotham #batman #brucie wayne

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

#fannish shenanigans #fandom history #rare ass personal post

[dappermouth]

What happened to your Society6 store? It seems like there's a lot less designs available than there used to be. I was hoping to get some tapestries but everything is gone...

Wow! This ask made me go check out my Society6 shop — and you’re right, it’s pretty much all gone! So, here’s the story on that for anyone who hasn’t heard:

Society6 decided that their outsized profit from artists wasn’t cutting it — they now require artists to pay a monthly subscription for the privilege of letting Society6 profit off of them, while foisting additional shipping fees onto the artist and reducing their payments on top of that. I had heard some months back that they were planning to switch to a subscription model, and it looks like since I didn’t pay up, they permanently deleted everything except 10 random pieces of art from my shop. They did this without notifying me at all (classy!) after years of making tens of thousands of dollars off of my work — but weirdly, this is kind of a relief for me?

My cut of Society6 sales were already a laugh even before the proposed changes (I make more money from someone dropping like $20 at my personal print shop than I do from someone buying $100+ of my stuff from Society6) but the tapestries and blankets were so cool and I loved how much people enjoyed them, so I kept my art available there. They've deleted nearly all of my work now, so I'll go finish the job and close out my account for good.

Anyway, it’s disappointing, but Society6 has chosen to suck profoundly at this point in time. Totally scummy treatment of the artists whose work is the foundation of their entire business model. I’m lucky enough to have a supportive audience and never relied on Society6, but I feel badly for artists whose livelihoods have been impacted by this. (If you’re one of those artists, know this: you deserve better compensation for your hard work than what S6 is giving you!)

OK, with all that said — I’m bringin’ tapestries back, baby! They can’t keep this cowboy off the range! Right now I’ve ordered samples from some different places to compare quality, and once I’ve settled on a manufacturer I‘ll be making them available at my print shop. I’ll post on my socials when I’ve sorted it out!

#jentalk #society6 #i mean it's now owned by a former Ticketmaster exec #shocker! hahaha #at least he's consistent about working in the 'extorting artists and their fans' field

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

[lemonlover1110]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your deity calls you to his presence to worship him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, two-dick sukuna, bit of a size kink, spitting, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, biting, gagging, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“My lord.” You get on your knees, bowing your head in the presence of the deity. You were called to his presence, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest while you’re in his presence. It feels as if his eyes burn into your skin when his gaze falls on you.

There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down arrogantly at you. Arrogance has always been a trait that you’ve looked down upon men, but Sukuna does not fit in with men. He’s anything but a man. He’s a God, a being worthy of praise and worship.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His deep voice makes your breath catch up in your chest. You hear the amusement in his voice, which brings out a worry from deep within you. You’ve caught glimpses of the deity, a swift motion from him could snap you in half. “Rise.”

You get off your knees, keeping your head lowered. You respect him– You fear him. You were always taught that you couldn’t respect someone without fearing them first, and Sukuna has your utmost respect. You’ve heard the horror stories about him, the fear that he’s caused. The fear that he still causes today; it’s the reason why you stand before him, out of fear and… oddly enough, admiration.

“Lift up your head.” He says, and while you’re confused, you don’t hesitate in doing so. Not following his orders in a manner of seconds could result in much worse. Your eyes slightly widen at the clear sight of him, he’s everything you’ve imagined and more. He’s smirking at you, and you wonder why he suddenly shows interest in you. “Tell me your story.”

“My lord, it’s nothing interesting.” You answer, and your face grows hot as you bite your tongue. You know immediately that’s the wrong answer, yet you can’t bring yourself to immediately apologize. The smirk fades away as a frown overtakes his face.

“I didn’t ask. I gave you an order and you must follow it. Do you not know the rules of this place?” He doesn’t raise his voice like you’ve heard before. 

Sukuna has seen you around, and it’s fair to say that he’s taken a liking to you. You look so soft and so sweet standing to the other servants he keeps around, but it’s not just that… It’s something else about you. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I apologize, my lord.” You bow down your head, and when you lift it up, a sigh leaves your lips. He grows impatient, but he knows you’re about to speak, therefore he gives you a couple of seconds to speak. “You wreaked havoc in my old village”

“Out of fear? Is that it?” He sounds disappointed with the answer. He expected more… Yet when he looks at you, there’s this certain spark in your eye, making him lay his head on his fist as a smirk overtakes his face again. That’s not all.

“Not just that, lord. But admiration.” You confess. Admiration… It’s odd to come from you. As pretty as a flower, yet you admire a monster– Though he prefers the word God. “I was married to this man and well… You took care of that problem.”

“Forced marriage?” He questions and you shake your head. It’ll sound like a sob story which makes you hesitant to speak up, but you know you can’t shake your head and not give more details.

“We were in love, until we got married and he decided that he didn’t like me all that much.” You share, and he grows even more interested. “He had several problems between women and drinking, bringing shame upon my name. But then you came along, my lord.”

“Come here.” He orders, and you walk over to him. Once in front of him, your heart races even faster. Your legs feel weak, and you feel like you might pass out right in front of him. He’s even bigger than you imagined. His top right hand grabs your neck, and you almost cry out of fear, but unexpectedly, the hand goes under your chin, and tilts your head up. “Did you bear children?”

“I was unable to fulfill that task, my lord.” You tell him, too ashamed to admit that it’s the reason why your late husband lost all interest in you. That’s all he needs to know, that was the root of your problem. One swift look at you, and he knows you’re not the reason of it, but rather your late husband’s fruitless seed.

“Aren’t you a wicked woman? Worshiping the monster that killed your husband.” He fights back on smiling. He likes that. He finds some sick and twisted pleasure from it. Truthfully, it’s not the worst thing that Sukuna has smiled about. Maybe it’s the worst thing that has made him aroused though.

“I don’t view you as a monster, my lord.” You respond, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You’re a God. No monster could ever compare to you.”

“Hmm… You’re right.” A guttural laugh comes from him. You begin to feel proud at the fact that you’ve made him laugh. He begins to like you more and more by the second.

He licks his lips, looking you up and down. There was a reason he saved you and took you in as a servant. He called you in for a reason, he was going to fuck you even if he found you boring, but luckily for him, you’re even better than what he imagined. He orders, “Worship me like a God then.”

“I’ll do anything you need me to do, my lord.” You respond, and you watch him undo his robes. You expected this the moment you were called by Uraume to show up before him. Either this, or your demise. You’ve heard rumors that Sukuna has taken many lovers– Partners is the most appropriate word, either way, you didn’t expect him to lay his eyes on you. 

“Do what you must.” He tells you, your eyes landing on the two dicks that stack up on each other. You shouldn’t be shocked, but your eyes can’t help but linger on it. You’re curious, yet excited. 

You’re not sure how to proceed at first so you do what you’ve usually done. You spit in your hand before your lips meet his, and Sukuna is taken back by it. Do you not know where your mouth is supposed to go or…? Your tongue moves past his lips and enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hand wraps around his top cock. 

Your hand begins to stroke his cock while your tongue wanders around his mouth. When you pull away, you get on your knees to put his bottom dick in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip, getting his precum on your tongue. You look up at the man, the expressions on his face telling you that he’s particularly sensitive. You kiss the tip of his cock before taking in as much as you can in your mouth. 

Sukuna grabs the hand that strokes his cock, and guides it, setting a pace that’s more pleasing for him. He notices just how small you are compared to him, and it fucking drives him wild. Your free hand cups his heavy balls before you begin to massage them. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your mouth away from his bottom dick.

“Top one needs attention too, bitch.” He tells you, and you switch. Your mouth wraps around his top dick while you begin to jerk off the bottom one. It’s a bit overwhelming since it’s so much for you, but you’re enjoying the experience. 

You’re looking up at him, reading his every expression. He looks at you as if you were inferior, someone that’s barely even worthy of his consideration. It’s because you are– Though you can’t read the fact that Sukuna is fighting back from making any noise. 

Sukuna groans as you attempt to take more in your mouth. It’s not all, but it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes from gagging. Sukuna chuckles when he sees the tears that stream down your face as you try your best to bring him the most pleasure you can. What you’re doing is doing wonders, but not for the reason you think. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, and he forces your head to stay. Your eyes look the prettiest when they cry because of him.

“Doing a better job than I expected.” Sukuna says, letting go of your head. You take your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You begin to jerk both of his cocks off while you lean up to try and kiss him, but his thumb presses down on your bottom lip before telling you, “Open up.”

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out which allows him to bring his lips together and spit in your mouth. It’s a gift from him to you, one that you gladly accept. He orders you to swallow, and you do so without a problem. You’re a blind follower to his word. 

You’re about to focus on his cocks again, but he forces you up. He wants more. Something different. He rips the cloth that covers you to pieces, and before you can even properly process it, Sukuna has you sitting on his lap. You squeeze your thighs together, a sudden shyness taking over you. As quickly as you shut them is as fast as he spreads them apart, “Too late for you to be shy now, woman.”

Two of his long fingers run through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He isn’t all that surprised that you’re already wet, you’re about to be fucked by your God, of course you’re excited. Your slick goes down to your asshole and he begins to tease it. He wants to bury both of his cocks within you, but he knows that it’ll take a little more adjusting. He isn’t completely ruthless, and sometimes has compassion for things he cares about– Not that he cares about you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either.

Sukuna’s tongue glides from your shoulder to your neck, his bottom set of arms lifting you up. The tip of his cock runs through your folds, and he bites down on your neck when he pushes his cock inside of you. You loudly moan as he fills you up. 

“Is it too much for you? I think you can handle it for your God.” Sukuna says, not giving you a moment to adjust before he begins to bounce you on his cock. He isn’t the type to give out praises, but fuck, you feel so fucking good around him. Almost like a fucking virgin. 

Your nails dig into the supple flesh of his arms, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits every right spot. You’re meant to be pleasing him, yet he’s making you feel euphoric. He’s so generous with you, you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.

“Oh, fuck– Sukuna!” You yell out, and he doesn’t recall ever giving you permission to use his name. But it’s pretty when it rolls off your tongue so he’ll allow it to happen just this once. Perhaps if it was someone else the situation would be different, but he’ll be generous with you this one time. 

Two fingers enter your mouth with the sole purpose of shutting you up. His mouth goes to your ear and he scolds you, “Don’t ever fucking use my name without my fucking permission, stupid bitch.”

He bites down your earlobe gently. He’s too much for you to handle. He moves you with his bottom set of arms, one arm has the hand that gags you, and his final arm goes down, two fingers beginning to play with your clit. You didn’t think that sex with a deity would be so… You’re practically out of the world. You feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Sukuna takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving the hand down to stroke the cock that’s being left out. Being nice comes at a cost to his pleasure, and it’s fair to say that the selfish man doubts he’ll be doing it again. 

Your walls begin to tighten around him, your climax quickly approaching. You have never felt so fucking good before, especially not with a man. You know Sukuna can’t be considered a man though. 

“Fuck– I’m gonna–” You begin, and before you can even finish your sentence, you squirt all over him. Sukuna can’t help but chuckle, smacking your cunt as you release the liquid all over him. That’s certainly a first for him, although it’s not surprising since in sex he always cares about receiving and never about giving. 

You keep holding on to him, your sharp nails nearly digging blood from his skin. He’s grunting, his release near. You feel so fucking good around him, better than he expected. He can’t help but tell you, “Next time, I’m putting both of them in.”

The thought is driving you wild, yet you’re already excited even when he isn’t done with you yet. Sukuna loudly groans when he reaches his climax, cum shooting out both of his cocks. He fills your cunt up, while some of his cum goes to waste in the air. He’ll make sure that he’ll completely stuff you next time though.

Sukuna keeps his cock buried inside of you, catching his unregulated breath. He speaks into your ear, “Look at me, being nice to a little bitch and not completely stuffing her. Next time you’ll have to handle both.”

“I’m sorry, lord.” You respond, and he laughs.

“You did a good job.” He can’t help but compliment you since he hasn’t felt this good in a while, and you’re over the moon with his praise. 

“Thank you.” You reply, fighting back the big smile that threatens to come on your face. Sukuna takes his cock out, and he chuckles as he sees that your clothes are shredded to pieces. “I have to–”

“I’ll call a servant for a new robe for you. Nobody can see you naked but me.” He interrupts you. His hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head to look at every side of your face, “Don’t want anyone to look at my wife naked.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, caught off guard with his words.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to be my wife.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck #good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen #im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3 #writeblr #the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this'' #and like also #''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist #i was <3 punctured <3 during mine #and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion'' #so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3 #she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh #ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance #i'd crash on the table #like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it #and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop! #and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just #woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes #she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room #from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing #and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying #and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap #with this terrible memory #i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like #that was too many liters #and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home #i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after #that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty #you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it #while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED #and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.