#man i just have too many feelings about them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretsofafangirll · 2 days

Text

oral fixation - m.s.

summary: matts girlfriend loves to have things in her mouth. when she gets home after a day of minor inconveniences, she seeks comfort from her boyfriend, in a rather, unconventional way.

warnings: oral (male receiving), praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), soft!dom matt, sub!fem, talk of anxiety,

a/n: couple of things; one, the girl doesn't have a name so you can imagine whomever you'd like, two, i've started planning my Matt series...anyways, hope you guys like it! :)))

"A touch / From your real love / Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil"

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜

For my entire life, I’ve loved having things in my mouth.

When I was younger, it was impossible for my parents to get my thumb or my pacifier out of my mouth. The comfort that came from having the object resting in my mouth was too intense for me to leave behind. Behaviors like that followed me into childhood with things like gum or lollipops. In high school, I chewed copious amounts of gum, always had a pen or pencil in my mouth and played with my lips all the time.

Naturally, when I managed to find myself a boyfriend, he became aware of my oral fixation in many ways. He would always notice how often I had things in my mouth or if I was biting my lips, he would offer me something else so I didn’t tear up the delicate skin. It got to a point where, if he and I were laying down together and one of his hands was unoccupied, I would simply reach down and grab his hand, bringing it to my mouth and wrapping my lips around one of his fingers and playing with it in my mouth. Of course Matt enjoyed this himself, but there were other ...situations, where this oral fixation benefitted him much more than putting a finger in my mouth.

Matt also understood why I do what I do. Him and I both struggle with anxiety, and we both have for years. In high school, I was medicated for it and had a hard time getting through the day. However, I hated the way that the meds made me feel and I swore to my parents that I wasn’t going to take them anymore and that I’d find another way to cope. Matt copes with alone time and silence but I get more overstimulated than he does and when I do, all I want is to have something in my mouth and someone to touch.

Which is why on days like these, anxiety ridden and insane days, I need my boyfriend and one of his extremities to rest between my lips.

After several cars cutting me off on the road and almost hitting me on the way to the gym this morning, I was already slightly shaken up and worried for my safety. When I got to the gym, there was a man somewhat following me around, conveniently using all of the machines next to me. After that, I went to the grocery store in hopes that they had some grapes and snacks for me to feel better, they were out of seedless grapes which sent me into a frenzy about the way that the seeds feel in my mouth, and the self-checkout lanes were under renovation and I had to talk to the cashier to check out.

I took shallow and quick breaths as I walked swiftly out to my car. I tossed the bag into the back seat and swung open the driver door. The second that I was enclosed in my car, in my space, I was able to calm myself down. Once I had myself under control, I started the car and drove home. When I arrived, I grabbed my things from the car and headed inside. I used my house key to unlock the front door, using my foot to close it behind me. I tossed my keys in the dish and heard Matt typing on the couch.

“Hi baby,” He said without looking up. I didn’t respond because I just wanted to put the groceries I picked up away and sit with him. “Alright,” He said and continued typing away.

I put the cold stuff in the refrigerator and the dry stuff in the pantry and cabinets before heading to his room to slide out my dirty and uncomfortable gym clothes and into one of his shirts. Once I was comfortable and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, I was finally ready to lay down next to him on the couch.

“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, gently taking a seat next to him and pulling a blanket over my legs, curling into his side and latching onto one of his arms, “I just wanted to put those away so that I could sit with you.”

I sat there looking for something of his to grab onto but his hands were occupied and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I put anything else, if you know what I mean, in my mouth at the moment. I sighed quietly to myself and began to bite on my lips.

“You don’t have to apologize,” He said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head.

I continued my assault on my lips and I felt the skin tear and the metallic taste of my own blood rested on my tongue. When it started to hurt too bad to bite my lips, one of my hands found my mouth and I started to bite and suck on that instead, the other arm wrapping impossibly tighter around his. His elbow nudged my side and he looked over at me.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked without looking away from his computer where he was replying to emails and taking notes in a Google Doc. I only hummed, unwilling to take my fingers out of my mouth. My lack of a real response, which I know he hated, made him finally look up at me. My eyes blinked guiltily at him when his brows went from furrowed to concerned, “Sweetheart,” He sighed and reached up to pull my hand away from my mouth. I flexed all of my muscles to keep it in my mouth but he tilted his head at me and pulled harder, his strength easily overpowering mine.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, relaxing my muscles and looking down my hands with guilt and embarrassment written all over my face.

“Hey,” He said softly, reaching out to grab my jaw and gently pull my head up to look at him, “You don’t have to say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head and looked into my eyes for an explanation, “D’you have a bad day?” He asked and closed his computer screen ¾ of the way down.

“Kind of,” I said, questioning in my tone, “I don’t even know. It’s just been, like, too much.” I tried to spit it out but I struggled to pin-point how, exactly, I felt. It was just too much.

“That’s okay, baby,” He cooed, “You want my hand?” My eyes widened in excitement and I nodded before correcting myself with a ‘Yes, please’.

He brought his left forearm up to my mouth and I played with his long fingers trying to pick which one I wanted. I decided on the pointer first, but planned to use every finger but the pinky. He used his other hand to scroll through emails and business inquiries, also scrolling through pinterest to find inspiration for future videos.

I, on the other hand, swirled my tongue mindlessly around his fingers, taking them all the way into my mouth and then back out, my saliva coating his fingers down the knuckle. Every so often, he would shift his hips slightly or clear his throat and scratch his neck. I knew how this was affecting him, but he also respected my needs more than his and wouldn’t want to make me uncomfortable. After close to twenty minutes had passed of my sucking on his fingers, he looked at the time on his computer and closed it all the way. He leaned back against the couch, his hand still in my mouth and he turned his head as it laid against the top of the couch and he watched me mindlessly play with his fingers. When I fully pulled off his middle finger alone, I pushed his ring finger to meet it and took them both fully into my mouth. He groaned and I snapped my eyes to meet him and worked my mouth around his fingers.

“God, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that when you’ve got my fingers down your throat, honey,” He instructed gently, understanding of my rather fragile nature. I pulled off his fingers, letting my tongue teasingly drag across the length of them.

“Sorry,” I swallowed to clear my throat and scooted closer to him. He reached across himself and wrapped his dry hand around my thigh and under my knee to pull me onto his lap. I squealed at the sudden movement but settled and nuzzled into his lap.

“How many times are you gonna apologize, hm?” He questioned with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“You know how I am, Matt,” I laughed and grabbed his wrists and put them on top of my thighs, encouraging him to tickle them.

“Yeah, I do,” He smiled, “But that means that I know you’re gonna keep saying sorry until you feel better.” He accused me and I smiled like I’d been caught stealing, “What else do you need, baby?”

I blushed and looked down at my hands, “I don’t wanna-,”

“Oh, you’re gonna.” He said sternly.

“I want you.”

“You have me.” He said and nudged my chin with his knuckle, “What do you need?”

“Need your cock,” I said quietly.

“What was that?” He turned his ear toward me.

“I need your cock, Matthew.” I said louder.

“There she is.” He said and gently moved my thighs to allow me to sink to my knees in front of him. “See? Wasn’t that hard, no?”

When I was comfortable at his feet, I worked to remove his belt and unbuckle his pants. He did the work of actually pushing them down. His hard cock sprung out of his pants and he hissed as the cool air penetrated the sensitive and tacky skin. His tip was lathered in a small amount of pre-cum and he pulsed and twitched slightly. I pouted at the sight for two reasons; one being that it made me want him in my mouth even more, and two, I felt bad for the state I’d put him in.

“Matty,” I whined, tracing circles with the fingernails on his knees, “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, all you’re getting is my fingers,” He tutted. My eyes widened in fear.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” I promised and he smiled down at me.

“Good girl.”

I got to quick work pumping his cock in my hand to get him ready. His cock looked so big compared to my smaller hand. It didn’t even fit around the entire thing. He groaned and hissed at the stimulation, his breathing getting heavier and slightly more labored. Soon, I leaned down and gently licked the tip before wrapping my lips around the tip. Pleasure and comfort washed over me and I continued to sink my head down onto his dick. His hands gathered my hair in a make-shift ponytail on my head and he held my hair out of my face. He didn’t push my head down, he just simply aided me in my quest for comfort, which I was most definitely finding.

“There you go baby,” He praised, “So fuckin’ good,” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

I took his cock down my throat slowly, suppressing the slight gag reflex I still have, though it’s not too bad. I whined around his dick with comfort and need.

“What baby?” He asked breathlessly, pulling me off him, “Why’re you whinin’? You got what you wanted, no?”

“No!,” I protested, pushing his hands away, “I’m fine! I just love having you, s’all.” I explained with a smile before going back down on him. As I continued to work his cock, my body visibly relaxed and the sighs of content that left my mouth. Matt simply closed his eyes above me, opening them periodically to watch me take him down my throat.

Matt started to get close, his hips becoming restless under me and his hands that were in my hair started to guide me down his cock faster. He moaned and whimpered as he grew closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck-,” He whimpered, “God, so good, baby. So close.”

His stutters and whimpers encouraged me to work with him faster, yet take my time on all of his sensitive bits. I relied on the relief that accompanied the weight of his cock on my tongue. I worked him until hips stuttered and bucked off the couch and he moaned my name and praises into the air.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He whispered, bucking his hips into my throat making me choke slightly but I didn’t care, “M Sorry. Fuck,” He whispered and then e shot his load down my throat. I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down. “Show me,” He demanded, once he caught his breath and he pulled me off him all the way. I stuck my tongue out to show him that I swallowed it and he smiled at me in response, lightly tapping my cheek with the hand that held my jaw.

“Thank you,” I sighed, my throat somewhat sore.

“No, thank you, my beautiful girl.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. When I pulled away, I bit the inside of my lip and looked into his eyes, silently yearning for more. His brows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, “What, baby? Not enough?” I looked at him with a guilty smile and shook my head.

“I just want more,” I said quietly. He opened his mouth to respond but as soon as he did, his laptop and phone dinged several times, he looked at his phone and saw what it was.

“Look, sweetheart, I’ve got more work shit to do,” I groaned and sat back on my heels below him but he pressed a finger to my lips, “But, if you’d let me finish you impatient little baby,” he teased, “if you’re good and hold me without moving your tongue at all, you can stay where you are.”

“Yes please. I promise I’ll be good,” I nodded my head and sat back up right. He nodded at me and grabbed everything he needed to continue working and I took him back into my mouth. I zoned out with him in my mouth but it was still exciting to be getting what I’d been craving all day and my tongue jerked against a few times.

“Ah, ah,” He asked, “Settle, sweetheart. You promised me.” He directed and when I calmed down around his cock, his hand patted my head softly and he went back to typing away.

a/n: i'd been working on this for about a week or so. hope you guys liked it!!

685 notes · View notes

rainylana · 3 days

Text

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

245 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 2 days

Note

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

215 notes · View notes

confused-pyramid · 15 hours

Text

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

264 notes · View notes

bigification · 1 day

Text

Careful What You Wish For

I lay the cheap looking lamp on my bathroom counter as I get ready for a bath. I can't believe I caved and bought it, it's obviously a scam. This stupid lamp isn't gonna grant any wishes, that old man just got some free cash out of me. It doesn't matter, I'll just take a relaxing bath and throw on some Netflix later.

I get undressed and run some hot water into the bath. Some scented candles set the mood for relaxation, and I throw on some music. I dip myself into the warm water, and lay back.

My relaxation doesn't last long however, as a rumbling catches my attention. It's the lamp. It's vibrating with enough force that I can feel it from across the bathroom. Suddenly a purple smoke emerges from the lamp.

"I may grant you one wish." A soft whisper echoes out of the smoke.

What the actual fuck. This isn't possible. Did that guy drug me? Maybe I should just say a wish to see if it's true.

"I wish to be a more mature looking guy who likes sports." I blurt out. I've always hated how much I look like a teenager despite being a full blown adult, so this could fix that. Also I wouldn't mind being a fit guy who likes sports, it wouldn't hurt.

The moment I say it, the smoke starts to travel towards me. All the smoke spirals into my mouth and nose. I should be scared, but it kinda feels nice. A warm feeling sprouts in the core of my body, making me feel relaxed again.

As the smoke fills my body, I feel my muscles twitching. It must be true, my body is changing. My twig like arms thicken, with bulging biceps and defined forearms. My soft hands grow twice as big and fill with rough callouses. My chest puffs out into two juicy pecs and my stomach flattens into a cut six pack. My thighs thicken as I feel my ass plump up. Even my feet look like they've grown a few sizes. I also have to start bending my legs, as Ive become too tall for the bath tub I'm sitting in.

I look at my reflection in the water and see a handsome man in his late twenties. Holy shit, I'm hot! I've got a chiselled jawline with a dark beard covering it. All my features seem more angular, more manly. As I'm observing my reflection, I notice a pelt of dark hair grow all over my body. My chest, my arms, my legs, everywhere is dusted in a coat of hair.

This is everything I wanted. Even the sports. Memories of playing sports all throughout school flood my mind. I especially liked soccer, though I also really liked weight lifting. More memories of my extensive sex life flood my mind, people are almost hypnotised by my good looks.

Just as I'm reminiscing about my past, I remember I should be working out right now. I can't skimp out on my workout routine. I go to get out of the bath and notice I've got my underwear on. Huh, I must have forgotten to take it off before getting in the bath.

As I'm stepping out of the bath, something feels wrong. A warm feeling once again fills my core. I look down and see my six pack fade under a belly of fat. It continues growing until it sags over my underwear. My pecs swell into a pair of man tits, though they still have a solid base of muscle. My arms double in size, though with a soft layer of fat now covering the muscles. My hands thicken until they look like stuffed sausages, as more rough features cover them.

I feel my underwear tighten around my waist as my ass fattens. My thighs thicken until there is no gap between them, and my feet grow many sizes. I even feel my perspective shift higher, as my height increases.

The dark hairs on my body fade to an almost white colour as the hair thickens around my body. As I'm looking down at my body, I notice hair on my head fall to the ground. I look in horror at my reflection in the mirror, I have to duck just to fully see my face. My hairline recedes all the way to the back of my head, leaving me practically bald. My once sharp facial features have softened under a layer of fat. And a double chin has formed under my beard. I look so old.

Though the more I stare at my body, the more familiar it becomes. Memories flood into my mind of my career in soccer. I was a high level player, and a popular one at that. But you age out of professional soccer in your late thirties. I started focusing more on the weight lifting and less on the cardio. There was only so long I could keep that six pack, and turning 50 certainly didn't help with that. I don't mind it though, it makes me feel more manly. And it makes the team I coach more afraid of me.

I snap out of my trance. I grab a towel and start to dry off. Damn I forgot to take off my underwear again, I should get rid of this one anyway, it doesn't fit me anymore. I duck and look at myself in the mirror.

"Lookin good coach." I say as I smile at myself.

I turn to the other side of the bathroom and step on my scale. It reads '350'.

"Damn, I've really let go of myself, huh." I say as I jiggle my gut.

I also measure my height, it reads 6"6. I should have gone into volleyball with the build I had.

I dry off and leave the bathroom. I grab a family sized bag of chips and lay my fat ass down on the couch. I open the tv and it's already on the world cup. I really wouldn't want it any other way.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #reality change #male wg #muscle tf #male transformation #age progression

171 notes · View notes

artinvain · 3 days

Text

Sevika takes care of you bc you’re working too hard 🥹 + squirting

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ you’d been working like a mad man. every day was 12 to 14 hours of work. it was safe for sevika to say you were a worse workaholic than she was and this week was particularly rough. “honey, come to bed,” you whine as sevika starts to massage your shoulders. they’d risen to your cheeks while your eyes trained on the video you edited, trying to get the perfect L cut but the sound refused to sync.

“jesus fuck! are you serious ?” you near yell when your machine starts to buffer and then shuts down. “I’m about to scream or cry,” you bite your lip, your face in your hands, wondering whether your work has saved while sev was thinking about other ways she could make you scream and cry.

“okay, that’s enough for today yeah? even the computer’s tired, come on honey. It’s time for a break,” sev cooes gently into your ear, easing you up from your chair with encouragement and rubbing your lower back. “s’okay baby, we’ll sort it out tomorrow,” she reassures you as you press your forehead against her chest. “I’m just so tired,” you relent, letting her arms engulf you, her fingers scratching your scalp.

“I know honey, that’s why you need a break,” sevika kisses your forehead, “let me take care of you yeah?” you finally nod and let sevika lead you to the bathroom where she had a hot bath waiting for you. “I’m so glad we invested in this stupid, giant tub” you moan as you sink into the hot water, sevika behind you. her hands immediately massaging your body, the soapy water glittered with essential oils relaxing you. you sigh, leaning back against sev, and letting her caress your body, until her hands and massaging your breasts. your breath hitches as she gently tugs your nipples, you turn your face into her neck and press firm kisses there as she plays with your tits.

“that’s it baby just relax for me,” she says so sweetly your body complies, melting into her as her fingers trail down your stomach, warm rough fingers circling your clit softly until you’re whining. “that feel good honey?” you girlfriend asks as she lets her fingers play with your clit, your back arching “yes sev, so good baby,” you sigh, your hand coming to rest of her wrist. you hadn’t realised how pent up you were, how much you’d neglected the bedroom and sevika recently.

“m’sorry I’ve been so busy babe,” you whine as her fingers dip down to your hole, “should be taking care of you,” you stutter as her thick finger fills you and curls. “nuh-uh, how many late night have I had?” she asks rhetorically. “you work hard and I’m proud of you,” she sighs against your temple, starting to fuck you slow. your head falls back on Sev’s shoulder, her cool arm holding your tits, playing with your nipples.

sev works you at a rhythm that has your hips bucking, riding her fingers as they fuck you deep and soft, “fuck, another, please another finger sev,” your girlfriend groans, “so perfect, asking for what you need,” she groans, feeling your pussy stretch around her fingers, pulling her in. the wetness of your walls the feeling of them soft against her makes her mouth salivate. she brings her bionic fingers to rest heavy on your clit, rubbing soft while her fingers hasten in pace. “so precious sweetpea,” sev smiles against your temple as you arch your back, “let me take good care of ya,”

she sets you off, the constant rubbing on your gspot and your clit. your legs are shaking and she has to carry you out of the bath. she dries you both off, kissing every bit of exposed skin as she does so. then lays on you the bed, rubbing her hands in coconut oil she presses them into your back. massaging out every kink and knot she can find, you don’t notice her wicked smirk as she slips your bulbous vibrator into you, making you whimper. you cannot move as sev sits on your ass, moaning quietly as she humps you, her hands still rubbing and massaging your back. your clit bumping the mattress as you feel her wetness spread against your ass. fuck you could lie like this with her forever.

you squeak at the pressure and sevika massages your shoulders, squeezes and pulls her hands down to your hips, leaning over you to kiss your face. “you’re fucking perfect you know that?” sev asks as she tightens her grip on your hips, grinding so you both feel that delicious pressure on your clits and the vibrator presses against your gspot. “love you so much,” she whines, kissing and licking your earlobe. grinding until you’re both huffing and sighing, Sev’s wetness making a mess on you, “and you’re so fuckin’ soft sweet pea,” she moans feeling her clit rub over your oiled ass and fuck when you turn your head more to capture her mouth, bite her lip as her brows furrow — she cums embarrassingly fast, gasping and groaning, her hips falter against your soft, plush ass.

sevika turns you over getting her legs over her torso and shoulders as she kisses down from your mouth so your wet lips, kisses your clit so sweetly. slowly licking and lapping in contrast to how she turns the vibrator up. “fuck, sev!” you have to grab for her hands, intertwining them as she laps and suckles at your clit, shaking her head from side to side. eating you as though she were ravenous. she releases one of your hands, guiding it to her hair and using her free hand to rub over your clit, watching your pussy clench around the vibe and your back arches as her fingers rub and swipe across your clit.

“so pretty under me, so fucking — god you make me so wet,” she groans, feeling her lips swollen and sticky as she licks over your whole pussy. sevika pulls at the vibrator, pushing it in the out against your gspot, sucking at your clit, her head bobbing with the movement of the vibe. sevika moans around your clit and it has you cumming, grinding up against your face your broken moans riling her up.

“god you’re so good to me, look at this pretty leaky cunt,” she moans, pulling the vibrator from you and lapping at your wet hole, sliding her fingers in in its place and curling them, holding them against your gspot, rubbing and grazing as she presses down on your belly. “oh god sev!” you’re squirming, “trying” to push her away, the pleasure overwhelming, “take it honey, want you to feel good for me,” sev groans when you clench down around her, “that’s it just take it,” her thrusts shallow and deep “feel so good pea, slippery pussys’ just pulling me in,”

you can feel her fingers grazing every part inside of you, she’s sucking on your clit and pulling off with a pop as you pant, your chest tightening. “sev, please please m’close,” you whine and sevika slows her pace slightly. grinding soft just barely grazing you until you’re trying to fuck yourself on her face and fingers. “okay baby cum for me yeah, want you to feel really good and make a mess on my face,”

sev moans, licking your clit and suckling again, her fingers curling and fucking you deep and hard her pace never faltering until you’re pent up, your body tensing with immense pleasure and warming as you spurt into her mouth. sevika whimpers as she tastes you, licking and swallowing and swiping her face back and forth across your cunt until her face is dewy with your mess.

Tags @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

#sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika x reader smut #sevika arcane smut #sevika arcane #lesbian #lesbian smut #sevika smut #Sevika arcane x reader smut #sevika x you smut

184 notes · View notes

dreamskug · 2 days

Text

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

154 notes · View notes

minswriting · 1 day

Text

AARON HOTCHNER NSFW ALPHABET

warnings: NSFW content, MDNI, dominant aaron, thigh kink, breeding kink,

A = After Care

aaron is so good at aftercare! he’ll check in on you emotionally to see how you’re doing before examining your body to see if you have any bruises forming. he’s sweet and kind, takes his time to really make you feel okay.

B = Body Part

aaron has two favorite body parts of himself. he loves his arms and holding you. but he also loves his voice. the assertiveness, the dominance that he accentuates with his words, he thrives off of it. on you, he loves your hair and your thighs. he loves to play with your hair or tug on it. but he also loves playing with your thighs. or fucking them.

C = Cum

when aaron cums, it’s legit erupting from his cock. and it has everything to do with the fact that he’s traveling most of the time and is stressed 24/7. he has a massive breeding kink too so when he’s fucking you for the first time in what feels like weeks, he��ll cum inside of you and literally fill you up to the brim.

D = Dirty Secret

aaron definitely has a daddy kink that he does not talk about at all because he’s too shy.

E = Experience

he’s only ever been with haley (they met in high school right?) but he had taken his time to know her body and to know female pleasure. so his experience is top tier. he KNOWS pleasure.

F = Favorite Position

i feel like hotch has a lot of favorite positions but he absolutely adores bending you over the desk while he takes you from behind, pulling your hair in the process. he also loves fucking you the same way in front of a mirror or in a very intimate sexual position.

G = Goofy

i don’t think aaron is goofy during sex unless you’re both really tired but need relief. when the two of you are so tired or even drunk, you’re giggling, laughing, crack a joke or two.

H = Hair

he’s either really well groomed or it’s wild down there. there is no in between. it truthfully just depends on his time and if he has time to make himself groomed.

I = Intimacy

sex with aaron is so intimate and it’s so intense. he’s the type to pound his cock inside of you so hard all while muttering praises into your ear about how beautiful you are and how well you’re taking him. all while he’s holding your hand.

J = Jack Off

aaron does not jerk off often. every once in a blue moon. however, he loves to do it when the two of you are on the phone and you’re just talking about your day. he definitely gets off to the sound of your voice and you’re more than okay with that.

K = Kink

honestly he has so many so here is a list lol

degradation, praise, sir kink, daddy kink, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, choking, hair pulling, and so many many more.

L = Location

i think he prefers to do it in the bedroom of all places but man does he LOVE fucking you in his office. whether it’s his office at work (which is rare because of how risky it is) or his office at his house. bending you over the desk and taking you is just top tier for him.

M = Motivation

you. always you. but also being super stressed is definitely a motivation.

N = No

he would never engage with blood play (unless you’re on your period. he will fuck you on your period) nor would he do anything to hurt you too bad. the most he will do is spank and choke you.

O = Oral

LOVES GIVING IT AND RECEIVING IT! he never asks for head simply because he gets off on your pleasure. but if you just drop to your knees, he’s never going to say no because it feels so good. he’s extremely good at giving it tho too. he is such a munch and will suck on your clit, lick your slit, etc.

P = Pace

his pace is usually hard, fast, and rough. he loves rough sex. but if he’s slow, his pace would be slow but hard, and it would be more romantic. pls i need his dick lol

Q = Quickie

he doesn’t prefer quickies. he prefers to take his time with you, making you cum at least three times in one session. however, he enjoys quickies occasionally, especially if it’s right before he has to go to work or it’s after he had come back.

R = Risk

he isn’t a HUGE risk taker but he would definitely dabble in office sex at least once or twice. but only when he’s sure no one else is in the bureau. other than that, he only fucks you at his house or your house.

S = Stamina

he usually only lasts for one long round but sometimes he can do two. it depends on how tired he is at that time.

T = Toys

i feel like he definitely has a flesh light. and when he fucks it, he imagines it’s your pussy. he is also perfectly okay with you having toys as well. especially because he can punish you with your dildo, not allowing you to have the real thing.

U = Unfair

hotch can be so unfair. he loves punishing you. especially if you’ve been particularly bratty. he will deny you orgasm, exclaiming that orgasms are only for good girls who listen when told what to do. he leaves overstimulation for when you’ve been really good for him.

V = Volume

i don’t think aaron makes a lot of noise. however, he definitely grunts and talks you through it. he’ll give praise or he’ll degrade you. regardless, he’s not a moaner. but he still talks!

W = Wild Card

you’d definitely have some sort of voice kink. and aaron would use this tone of voice that’s soft spoken but still authoritative while having sex that you can’t help but look in his eyes, captivated by his voice.

X = X-Ray

🥰🥰🥰 aaron’s cock is about seven inches but man he is GIRTHY!! his cock will stretch you out, filling you up in ways you’ve never felt before.

Y = Yearning

like many men, aaron is almost always down for sex. however, it’s not a priority to him. he prioritizes quality time over sex. however that in no way means you guys rarely have sex. he likes to have sex with you at least three times a week.

Z = ZZZ

personally, i think he’s very sleepy after sex. but he will always engage in aftercare before going to sleep.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine

141 notes · View notes

f4nd0m-fun · 2 days

Text

DPxDC - Mafia Ties

Good parents Fenton and redeemed Vlad escaping to another universe with Danny, Jordan, Ellie, Jazz, Tucker, and Sam because of GIW chaos getting so bad they literally need to go to another world to get help, only for the portal to close, and they can't open it from this side. Jordan is Jazz's age maybe a year older and Ellie accidentally got deaged to her actual age give or take which is probably about a year and a half old. Yes it's the Family Breakfast ship.

@hallowsden

Cue Vlad doing his whole possession stuff to not only get them new identities but carefully accumulate a small amount of wealth, not enough to be suspicious in his opinion but still.

The Fenton parents start looking to see if/where this world has ectoplasm because the kids, and maybe Vlad, need it. Hel, maybe the parents accidentally need it too after all those years of exposure.

I know everyone chooses Gotham for this stuff, but also that's about the most I know about DC and it has a Lazarus pit underground so we're using it.

Vlad doesn't get back into the proper businessman profile, too many eyes for him to feel safe after the GIW disaster, but he does end up a Mafia boss, or at least tries. Also, Hood becomes a new 'son' obsession for him, yeah he has Danny and Jordan and Ellie but this kid is also ghosty and probably hungry or something, right?

Hood doesn't get what's up with this weird older man who always has a baby with him, let alone why he'd even bring a baby along to mafia stuff.

Vlad thinks it's safer to have Ellie in mafia meetings than be left with the Fentons during their research obsession periods because they will literally not pay attention to anything else unless it's an emergency, it's not their fault, they're learning to manage it though.

Speaking of Fentons, they work on clean energy manufacturing topside, but underground they deal with weapons. Mostly they supply them to Vlad's crew, since that's basically their testing grounds, but they also don't make anything that's actually lethal. Vlad isn't a fan of guns though but he isn't about to bring out his plasma blasts if there isn't a good reason. (He pretends anyone who sees him cackling like a maniac hit their head, he did say he hates using guns after all).

Jordan and Jazz are probably about 17/18 now. Jazz is going to college, while Jordan slips his way into the kid's mafia (yes he knows he's a kid now too, shut up, he used to be 24). This is half to annoy Vlad and half because he's curious. Jazz, of course, with a little help from both Vlad and Tucker in getting her grades moved between universes, is in college soon, and manages a full scholarship (not that Vlad wouldn't have paid if he still had his old money, in fact he might even be a little jealous that he wasn't the one to pay for her schooling).

Jordan looks a little more like Vlad than he does Jack, due to the way the ghost half fusion effects everything, but he also looks more like Jack than Maddie because Jack is what Danny would have grown into anyway.

Ellie of course just looks like a nearly carbon copy of Danny of course, just baby and female.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are all going to Gotham Prep, if Vlad can't pay for Jazz's schooling then he's paying at just some for theirs (they might have partial scholarships but not full ride). Danny still sneaks out at night because he can't stand sitting still after an hour time being a vigilante and ends up running into the Bat. He promptly apologizes for invading his haunt and flees.

If any ships, I'm thinking Jazz/Jason and Jordan/Dick, but I'm a sucker for everlasting Trio and Tim also has a trio of his own.

Back to Ellie and Vlad. He of course is trying to keep any 'Meta' rumors on the downlow, but she's just a baby. The harness she's in is ghost proof mostly so she can't just phase out of it, but you try changing a baby's diaper and they just turn intangible, or put then down to nap when they start floating. Hel, imagine setting her down for two seconds, she accidentally makes a shield, and now she's crying because she wants to be held. Sure, Vlad and Danny both, Jordan and Ellie too, can go through shields in human form, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting or something. Eventually it gets figured out though.

I wonder how long it takes Jason to figure out that this Jordan fellow is related to Vlad. 😂

I also wonder what it would take for Vlad to actually use his ghost form outright, what kind of threat he'd expose himself to for the sake of his family. Just, shoving the kids at Jack - "Darling your aim is iced tea, let Maddie and myself handle this" - and doing what he has to.

And, yes, even as a Mafia boss he refuses to actually swear. Also, he probably still goes by Plasmius, the way his other form looks does NOT help the vampire rumors. Let alone the- well, I read a post on here a while ago where Ellie Danny and Jordan were deaged and needed his ectoplasm to survive. Imagine being a Plasmius goon in a meeting while he's trying to rock his baby to sleep and she's just sucking on his hand. You don't think much of it until you see he's bleeding and, even though it's technically red, your pretty sure it's glowing green and you're not sure if you want to ask (you won't but still). Plus, he's not even reacting to what must be a fair bit of pain, right?

Honestly, there's probably a betting pool about the whole weird family.

And of course I'm bringing in my Alfred Clockwork storyline. Flashpoint Thomas is Frighty, dead Thomas is Pariah, and Gotham is Martha. The moment Vlad finds out that Jason's grandparents are some of the most powerful ghosts in the realms (or at least this side of them in Gotham's case) he's like "okay I won't interfere, but maybe he'd like a friend? He doesn't seem to know a lot of ghosts.' (he tries to figure out which kid would be a better fit and that's when he finds out Jordan's been working for Hood this whole time. "You didn't tell me?" "You didn't know?!") 😂

Basically, give me a Mafia family who's major story plot isn't even the bats outright, it's just trying to survive after fleeing a world that may as well be destroyed at this point. Sure, they interact with the bats, cross paths, maybe even a couple relationships, but, overall, the Fenton-Masters are just outsiders in Gotham, learning to adjust to this new life.

#Fenton-Masters Mafia Crossover #Fenton-Masters Mafia AU #Fenton-Masters Mafia Family #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc au #dimensional travel #new life

131 notes · View notes

rooksamoris · 2 days

Text

💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.

💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)

💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.

Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.

And I walk through countries, a vagabond.

Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless.

All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon).

You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.

“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”

Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.

He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.

Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?

Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.

He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.

Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).

He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.

You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”

You swallowed and nodded.

The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.

Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with.

Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.

He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.”

“The tea is great.”

“Thanks.”

There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.

You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.

Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”

That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.

“Jamil…” you trailed off.

He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.

Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.

You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.

Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.

Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.

He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.

Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.

One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan.

He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his.

Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.

He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.

“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,”

Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now.

He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.

“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.

#💖 — amoris writes #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twisted wonderland x reader #twst jamil x reader #jamil nation is so back #making him speak arabic for y'all again

136 notes · View notes

justwonder113 · 3 days

Text

Head over heels - Lee Know

Warning: Mentions of drinking, Minho is a bit tipsy but he's sober by the end of it. Rader is getting hit on by some weird dude. Slightly suggestive at the end. Minho is staring at the reader's chest. GN reader. Not proofread. Please tell me if I missed anything

Masterlist

A/N- I'm finally back!! Thankfully I got over the virus and more than dedicated to write as much as I can. I have many ideas and can't wait to write all of them. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me it truly means the world to me. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. If you have any requests too feel free to do so. Take care of yourselves, love you all❤️

When is the right time to say that you're head over heels in love with someone? Perhaps when they do something really romantic and/or selfless. Something probably really kind and generous, something really cool... Probably not when they are dazed from having a bit too much to drink and look like they are about to fall asleep any given second now, right? Yup, you were definitely weird, probably the main reason you and Minho clicked this well. Okay in your defense you knew you were smitten with him for a while, it just downed on you though how down bad you actually were.

Really though. To think that you would realize that you're in love with your best friend when his like anywhere but this world is beyond crazy, even for you.

"Pretty boy do you want me to bring you some water?" You asked after seeing him blink slowly yet another time. You were at this club Hyunjin had invited you at. The music was blasting on the full volume and everyone was having the time of their life, well maybe except you and Minho. Normally you would be also be having fun with your friends but now everything felt a bit dull. Maybe because you didn't drink anything. You had bad flu earlier and you just didn't feel like drinking today. As for Minho, normally the drinks didn't get to him that easily, but he wad been overworking himself a lot lately and due to the fatigue even such small amount of alcohol as two or three shots got to him pretty easily.

Looked at you with dazed eyes for a second or two, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Something glimmered in his already sparkly eyes and he gave you a small smile. God, he looked so squishy and cute like this you wanted to pinch his cheeks. Not that you would, he had this tough persona to keep. Also not to sound weird but you didn't want others to notice how cute he was. Let's just say you wanted to gatekeep him for yourself.

After Minho gave you a small nod you got up and headed to the bar. There were a lot of people in line so you would probably have to wait quite a while to get something as simple as glass of water. You texted Minho that this could take a minute or two and started waiting for your turn. Meanwhile from the corner of your eye you saw someone shamelessly check you out, like, could they be any more obvious about it? You prayed that he wouldn't approach you while you also crossed your fingers for the bartender to hurry up. You decided to ignore it. You didn't see anything.

Unfortunately your prayers hadn't been answered, the sleazy man decided to approach you, honestly the audacity some people had. You tried to keep your distance but it was all in vain. The man stood in front of you now. He even made a show of slowly checking you out. God what a pig. You really tried your best to compose yourself, you really didn't need to make a scene now.

"Hello. Gorgeous can I buy you a drink?" God even his voice was so annoying. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep calm. With the most polite voice you could muster you answered that you were good and that you were with someone. But the dude still kept pestering, making your blood boil even more. Who the hell did he think he was? You had enough of this, you were about to warn him that you would call the security on him, when hands wrapped around you. You stiffened for a second, but relaxed when you noticed that it was Minho. The strange man grumbled. "Shit, boyfriend of yours?"

Minho answered before you could, his hands tight around your waist, his glare cold as ice. "Yes, now fuck off." The man was about to argue but Minho's death glare shut him up quickly. The man slithered away to disturb someone else you guessed.

You turned your full attention to Minho, who kept hugging you and now had rested his head on your shoulder. He still felt sleepy you guessed. "You took too long." He grumbled after a few seconds of silence. You turned your head and kissed the top oh his head. Minho grunted again. "Sorry pretty boy. Let's get you that water." You took a step towards the bar but Minho stopped you.

"Don't want it anymore."

You fully turned to Minho and started closely examining him, his face was unreadable though.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Just tired. Can I stay at yours?" You thought for a minute jokingly which Minho didn't really appreciate which he showed by softly pinching your side. Really, what was up with him being all cute today? You couldn't help yourself and you gave him a little peck on his cheek.

"Sure." Minho didn't say something, and you couldn't read anything on his face. He held his hand towards you and after you held it he started leading you to others so that you could say your goodbyes.

The walk to your house wasn't long. You appreciated the comfortable silence between you two. It was peaceful. You also loved how extra protective Minho was over you, he didn't let go of your hand whole way. Your heart felt like it would burst from joy.

You sighed in relief once you walked into the safehold of your house. It felt so good to be home. Like the two youthful people you were you immediately started getting ready for bed. You of course on top that pestered Minho to drink plenty of water before going to sleep. You didn't want him to wake up with a hangover. Surprisingly he was being obedient. You also couldn't help but admit that sleepy Minho was absolutely adorable. To you he just looked so soft and squishy all you wanted to do was to cover his whole face with kisses.

You tried to get ready for bed as fast as possible, but the chains you had worn today didn't really let you. They managed to get stuck and you didn't really feel like going to sleep in them. So you turned to Minho who laid across on your bed. Diagonally like a sweet person he was. He had changed into the sweats and oversized shirt he had left at your house but as it seemed he got lazy to get under the covers. "Min can you help me with these?" You asked sweetly as possible. Minho didn't answer and you thought that he fell asleep again laying diagonally on your bed, but he got up after a couple of seconds. He looked at you with unimpressed eyes waiting for you to ask what you wanted. You motioned towards your bundled up chains. Minho grumbled again but immediately started working on it.

The chains were more tangled up than you could imagine. Minho kept grumbling about how he should just snap them but still kept deligently working through every knot. You had no idea how did they get so tangled up on your neck. You got curious on what was taking so long and looked down and only when did you notice that upper buttons were open and you were showing quite a decent amount of cleavage. You felt shy for a second but then as if on cue you noticed how Minho's eyes kept shifting down towards your exposed skin. Let's just say it was a nice ego boost. Subtly as possible you even straightened up a little so you could show off your assets better. You didn't know if Minho knew you did that on purpose but his eyes sure did appreciate the sight. You didn't even realize you were staring at him, before he looked up and your eyes met. Suddenly you felt lost at words. How was he so gorgeous? You could only gulp and just stare at him.

"I did it." He spoke calmly as he placed your chain on your hands. "I think I know how you should thank me." Was it you or was he really close? You could even feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes couldn't help but shift fom his eyes down to his pretty lips. What were you even doing? Minho noticed your wandering eyes, his gaze also shifted down to your lips.

His finger touched under your chin and slowly lifted your face so that you were eye to eye again.

"What do you have in mind?" You found your voice after a few long seconds of being rendered speechless.

"I want to kiss you so bad." Minho's confession sent shivers down your spine. Good thing that you were sitting on your bed, you felt like you would fall otherwise. You felt like fanning yourself, your whole body felt so hot.

"What's stopping you then?" You quipped back, he was so close now with each breath your lips slightly grazed each other.

"Nothing." His voice was raw with emotion. You didn't even get to say anything, his lips were on you in matter of milliseconds. The kiss was raw, passionate. It ignited you, you felt alive now that you had the taste of his lips. It was everything and so much more, it was like he tried to convey his feelings with this kiss.

Guess you were not the only one head over heels for the other.

134 notes · View notes

lis-likes-fics · 3 days

Text

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 @thegen3sisark Dreamers taglist: @meg-the-second-greatest @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @gortycs @octo-octopie @damianodavidhands @alexxavicry @rosaren2498 @sayumiht @jaritzaflores94 @evabalexeeva @cl-0-vr Tag yourself here...

#dream of the endless #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless smut #morpheus smut #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #dream of the endless fanfic #morpheus fanfic #morpheus fanfiction #dream of the endless fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction

86 notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 18 hours

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 14

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 5371

Ao3 Link

Summary: Party plans are coming along, and your hard work is rewarded, but it seems like secrets keep on growing.

Author's Note: I am so jealous of our numbers girl 😭

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Degradation, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), Bondage, PIV Sex, Large Cock, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Comeshot, Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Switch(?) Buggy, Death Threats, VERY Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

So many hands and lips on your skin, yet all you could feel were the weight of those words.

“You would… ”

“I’ll cut them down for you,” Mihawk whispered, rubbing his face along your neck and ear until your back arched for him. “We’re the only ones that get to make my little rabbit cry. What are their names?”

Crocodile let out a low hum as he settled closer to you, kissing across your shoulder while Buggy smoothed his hands over your legs.

“I don’t…” you choked out, closing your eyes against the dizziness that spun through you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed as he pulled you against him. “Let’s get some sleep. You can write up your kill list in the morning.”

A dream. This is all some crazy dream.

A soft whimper left you as the hot tears staining your cheeks were caught just in time, and you knew it was Buggy’s fingers wiping them away. You sputtered, breathing too fast as you tried to gulp down air, to swallow the overwhelm. Mihawk touched your cheek before letting Buggy join his hands, sliding his body between yours.

“Hey, pretty star,” he soothed, stroking your hair while you clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

“How’s my girl?”

Dreams of stormy seas pulled away as that deep voice warmed the back of your neck.

“Good,” you hummed, Crocodile’s body pressing in behind you. Opening your eyes, you saw Buggy still asleep, having rolled away from you onto his back. Mihawk’s amber eyes shined at you, and your lips parted to see him curled around the clown, resting his head against the other man’s chest while he stared at you.

“Good. It’s been ages since I had a decent hunting trip. None of your enemies happen to be swordsmen, do they?”

Buggy tensed awake, his body frozen like he was playing dead, while you just gaped at Mihawk. Their offer came rushing back into your stormy mind, and you had no idea what to do with it.

I can’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

All the bodies on the mattress went still.

“You trust us, don’t you,” Crocodile rasped, his voice somehow toeing a line between soothing and threatening. “You can tell us what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” you mumbled, breath catching in fear yet again. Buggy’s hand found your arm, and his warning grip on you was the only movement on the massive bed.

What am I doing?

“Why don’t we get some breakfast,” Mihawk offered lightly. “I prefer discussing murder after my espresso anyway.”

There was such a strange tension while you prepared for the day, while Mihawk carried you to the balcony, while they all stared at you over their plates. Chewing the inside of your lip as you tried to eat, you felt their gaze like a weight over your shoulders.

You realized why the tension felt so strange. It felt like the air in a room after a couple’s spat.

I’m not afraid they’ll hurt me. I’m afraid they’re mad.

“I’m sorry,” you spilled out, eyes wide as you looked between them all. “I trust you, I’m just not ready to talk about my past right now. Especially if you want me to focus on the party. I don’t want to be distracted.”

You’d expected Buggy to react the best to your apology, but he kept a hint of worry, maybe even hurt in his eyes as he smiled.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Crocodile nodded, lifting your chin toward him. “But I like secrets just about as much as I like lies. We can wait until after the party, but my patience won’t last forever.”

Mihawk chuckled softly as ice slid down to your gut, and it was only his prodding that got you to eat a decent amount of your meal before you were carried to your desk, your notebook and transponder snail pushed toward you.

I hate this. I fucking hate this.

Falling into work mode, you schmoozed with your contacts as if you’d never left your old life. That itchy feeling crawled up your spine during every moment of silence, your loud, guilty thoughts only dulled by your work.

It was a long day.

You gratefully accepted a glass of velvety wine as you sat on the couch, Buggy across from you on that green chair. He had a pad of paper on his knee, twirling a pencil in his fingers with a silly amount of flair. He looked so fucking cute like this, his brow creased in thought while he looked up at the ceiling, quirking his lips before jotting down notes. Crocodile and Mihawk had very reluctantly put him in charge of the entertainment, and he was taking it quite seriously.

“We have a full list of attendees, and most will be arriving with a plus one. Here’s the details for the three backers I confirmed today, they’re donations will more than pay for the event,” you reported, pride pushing away some of that tension. “They will expect VIP treatment, of course, but that–”

“Amazing work, sweetheart,” Crocodile praised as he lit a cigar, puffing it a few times while you smiled up at him.

“You really are a treasure, aren’t you,” Mihawk purred, flipping through your notes. “I’m curious though, what does this, “U,” mean?”

He set your list of contacts in your lap, flipping through a few pages to point out the clients you’d marked with that letter.

“All of your other descriptors are highly detailed, and not a single contact with that letter was invited to the party. Surely we should expand our list of potential backers as much as possible.”

“Let me see,” Crocodile huffed, grabbing your notes to toss on the coffee table. He leaned over them, flipping through the pages before pushing them aside. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabbed you, but didn’t resist when he sat you on the table to face them both.

“You just told us the invite list was full, yet you didn’t call any of these people with the letter, “U,” next to their names. Explain.”

His scarred face was like a force of nature, like looking into a sandstorm that you knew would swallow you whole.

“It means un-unreliable,” you gasped, feeling the heat of their scrutiny against your skin. Your next words were hurried, but steadier. “I can call them if you want me to, and I would have if we hadn’t confirmed so many guests. But they talk too much, and they run in circles that could cause issues for the guild. A lot of them have connections to the Marines. I should have explained, I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Why are you so afraid, little rabbit?” That whispered taunt made you shiver as Mihawk took your wine glass, before lifting one of your hands to his lips. “Did you just remember who we are? Only a few days of spoiling you, and you already forgot that you answer to us now, not some failed party clown.”

Crocodile leaned toward you, his hand on your thigh while he studied your face.

“That idiot didn’t listen to your work, but I expect full reports from now on. You’ll tell us everything you’re doing and why you’re doing it, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, gratitude flooding you.

“Good girl,” Mihawk teased, pulling you back onto the couch. “I would hate to punish you over a misunderstanding. That’s all it was, right?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, catching Buggy’s wide eyes. He looked away quickly, staring at his notes, but his cute thinking process was gone, the pencil not meeting the paper again.

Thank gods for wine.

A few bottles amongst the group left the awkwardness behind, until nothing but their skin on yours remained. No need to hide on that bed, no need to be anything but theirs.

That thought tugged you out for just a moment, but you smiled as you gave yourself to these three bad men, yet again.

I chose to be theirs.

The tension of that day faded, replaced by that comforting, delicious danger you were always in. They carried you from room to room for the next few days until a shipment arrived. Trunks were carted into the suite after dinner, and Buggy’s floating hands started to open them while you sat nude on the bed.

“Get your grubby hands off her clothes,” Crocodile ordered lazily, pointing to the trunk on the right. “Bring that one here.”

It was hard to keep your eyes open while Mihawk kissed the back of your neck, long fingers leaving circles on your thighs, until Crocodile leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Open this one.”

His deep voice was so soft, and you hummed as you reached for the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

What the fuck?

“Well,” he asked, tapping the contents with his hook. “Do you like them, or should I send for something else?”

“N-no, I love them,” you squealed, grabbing a book from the pile, and running your fingers over the dragon on the cover. You flipped the pages, that lovely scent making you shiver. “Fantasy books…”

You laughed to yourself as you remembered that dinner on the balcony when he’d asked you what you like. Crawling onto his lap, you kissed up his neck while he let out a low chuckle.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Mm, anything for my sweet girl.”

“Yes, bring it to the door,” Mihawk ordered into the transponder snail, pulling your attention for a moment, which the scarred man pulled back when he fisted his hand into your hair, sucking marks onto your neck.

The movements and voices in the room didn’t distract you this time, until a very particular sound rang through the air.

A meow.

“Really,” Crocodile asked dryly when you left his arms, searching for that sound.

Mihawk stood by the door, a smug smile tugging at his lips before he met your eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, darling?”

“Why…”

“You like cats, don’t you?”

Your brain paused, the cognitive dissonance these men kept putting you through making it hard to think.

But another meow from the little brown tabby in Mihawk’s arms shook you loose, and soon you were sitting on the plush carpet, laughing while Buggy floated a gloved hand around like a toy for the cat to chase.

“Look at all of our pets on the floor,” Mihawk laughed, setting a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, removing it at the larger man’s narrowed eyes. “Come now, you’re not a fan of animals?”

“I prefer scales to fur,” he grumbled, meeting your smile with a sigh. “And I was hoping not to have to share Y/N’s attention with anymore men.”

You giggled, the furry man in question already bumping his head along your legs, and climbing onto your lap.

“Does he have a name,” you asked, grinning as your new cat tried to crawl up to your shoulders, rubbing his face along your chin.

“Not that I’m aware of. He was a stray.”

The image of Mihawk hunting the island for stray cats was too much, so you put it out of your mind while you searched for a name.

“Adam.”

All three men repeated you, each with a hilariously different tone.

“That’s the least flashiest name ever,” Buggy pouted, scratching behind Adam’s ears.

“Surprisingly, I agree,” Mihawk chided, tilting his head like a hawk about to fly down to steal the poor cat from your hands. “Why–”

“Why Adam?”

Crocodile’s interruption made everyone but Adam go silent, too much weight in the simple question. Heat rushed to your face, and you blinked up into his serious eyes.

“It’s from a story my dad used to tell me,�� you confessed, closing your eyes as you smiled at the memory of his voice. “About a magic tree that survived endless wars. People kept coming back after the island was destroyed, and they’d rebuild around that invincible tree, the—”

“The Jewel Tree Adam,” Buggy asked, his blue eyes shining as he scooted closer. “It’s not just a story. I sailed on a boat made from a Jewel Tree.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, stealing a kiss from those red lips before anyone could stop you.

“That wood’s been sold on the black market. It’s rare, but it’s real,” Crocodile asserted. Once again, your mind stopped functioning, Adam bringing you back again, this time with his paw reaching toward your face.

“So it is a flashy name,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Buggy.

“Barely,” he rolled his eyes as Mihawk sighed in defeat.

You helped Buggy arrange Adam’s things in the suite, until Mihawk pulled the cat away from you.

“Don’t worry, darling. I had my old suite set up for our furry friend. He’ll be across the hall in his own little castle while we rip you apart. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the poor thing to see what we’re about to do to you.”

“You set up…”

“I’ll show you the cat paradise tomorrow,” he huffed a laugh, petting Adam as he lounged comfortably in his arms. “Now be a good little rabbit for me, and I’ll try to convince Sir Crocodile to let the cat sleep in here when we’re done.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile drawled, hanging up his robe before sitting on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. “Why don't you finish thanking me, since we were so rudely interrupted earlier?”

His satisfied smile made your skin flush as you moved toward him, and you saw his cock twitching beneath his boxers, growing as he watched your bare skin. It made your mouth fall open with need, and with caution that you didn’t think would ever go away.

“Mm, is my sweet girl still scared of her daddy,” he taunted, palming himself through the thin fabric.

“But what about...” you started, turning around as Mihawk returned to the room. “I didn't try on any of the clothes.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Mihawk laughed, walking toward you until you backed up against Crocodile, those large thighs surrounding you. “It looks like your daddy wants to check how well you fit something else, isn’t that right?”

“I know she’ll fit just fine. Huh, babydoll,” he pulled you to him, moaning softly at your desperate noises, and your instinctive writhing when your ass rubbed against his hard length. “Did you like daddy’s present?”

“Mhm.”

“Not as much as she li–”

“Why don’t you go sleep in your little cat paradise,” Crocodile cut Mihawk off, his shifting attention keeping you from relaxing into him.

“I’ve got another pussy in mind for tonight,” the swordsman quipped, and you gasped as a floating hand grabbed yours, tugging you out of reach.

Buggy wrapped himself around you from behind, so you were caught in his warmth as you both looked at the frightening men in front of you.

“When you fight, she wants me.”

Buggy’s words made you feel too many things at once. They felt sweet, and sad, and territorial, and you didn’t know how to react.

“Is that true, little rabbit,” Mihawk asked, danger growing in his voice. “Do you want the clown?”

Oh, that sounds like a punishment waiting to happen.

But I can’t lie.

“I do.”

Buggy’s soft noise made you melt against him, until you pressed against that heavy need of his, both of you reacting to the touch.

“Do you see this, Crocodile,” Mihawk gestured toward you with a wicked smirk. “It seems she didn’t like either of our gifts. Would you rather have what this clown can give you?”

You’d started to shake just a bit, not knowing which direction you should turn. Mihawk’s words always seemed to twist you where he wanted you anyway.

Crocodile took pity on you, clearing up the question.

“Sweetheart, would it make you happy to fuck that stupid clown?”

Buggy let out another squeak, but he pulled away from you slightly, so you wouldn’t feel how much he needed you.

“It would make me happy.”

As if he couldn’t help it, Buggy pressed against you again, making you gasp as he rubbed his clothed cock along the meat of your ass, pretty little noises leaving his throat.

Mihawk charged toward you, and you couldn’t help but noticed the hard weight of his cock through his silk pajama pants. He gave an evil little smirk as he looked down at you, grabbing your cheeks to tilt your face.

“Such a spoiled little rabbit. We give you so many things, so many gifts, but that’s not enough, is it? My precious little slut needs another toy. Needs another cock, even when she’s all stuffed up. What do you think, Crocodile? Does she deserve another gift tonight?”

“Maybe my sweet girl hasn’t realized she’s grown out of her old toys.”

Mihawk’s laugh was sharp, too pleased, and your breath caught when he kissed you, and then Buggy on the cheek.

“Good point, sandman. Alright, little treasure, we showered you with gifts tonight, and now you get to play with your old favorite toy. Let’s see if it’s still as much fun to play with after we’ve been spoiling you so much.”

You were frozen when Mihawk gestured toward the bed, but Buggy picked you up, floating you to the center of the mattress before crawling up your body, caging you in.

“This okay, star,” he whispered, barely audible. It woke you up, and you nodded with a smile before he kissed you.

“Just a moment, pets,” Mihawk called, bringing your eyes to him. He and Crocodile pulled the couch all the way up to the bed, staring with hungry eyes that made you shiver. “We want to see if your old toy is still worth playing with. Croc, what do you think her minimum is with us?”

“Four. Minimum,” he said, voice rough as he pulled his boxers off, his massive dick like a looming threat.

“That sounds about right,” Mihawk agreed as he followed suit, stripping before lounging on the couch, his thick cock drawing your eyes as it twitched slightly. “Let’s see if this toy can pull four orgasms out of our little whore, since she wants to keep it so badly.”

“What if he can’t,” Crocodile asked, his voice full of more dangerous humor than he usually had with Mihawk’s games.

“There are so many pretty holes on that bed,” Mihawk threatened, his eyes raking over your skin, and Buggy’s as the clown stripped. “If she’s wrong about him after going against our wishes, I think we should break her, and her stupid toy.”

“You hear that, sweet girl,” Crocodile rasped, fingers moving lightly down his shaft, then pressing upward until you noticed that lovely bead of precum start to spill down the side. “Daddy keeps telling you to get over that pathetic clown, but you don’t fucking listen. This is your one chance to prove he’s worth it. If he can’t fuck you properly, then I’m gonna ruin you. Daddy’s cock is gonna tear you into pretty little pieces. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, back arching while Mihawk laughed at you.

“Should we roll dice to see which hole gets destroyed first,” he smirked, seeming absolutely giddy watching you writhe. His hungry eyes flicked to Buggy as the clown crawled back to you, holding himself above your body. “I suppose it’s show time isn’t it. Go on, clown. Make my little rabbit scream, unless you want to be a useless toy for the rest of your life.”

The insults still made you cringe, but Buggy smiled at you, that gorgeous, blue hair falling down around you like a curtain.

“Will you be my flashy girl,” he rasped, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Will you put on a real good show for me?”

“Yes, captain,” you breathed, moaning as he swallowed your smile with a needy kiss.

“She’ll get that paint all over her,” Crocodile grumbled, but that was the last you heard from them as Buggy left trails of kisses and soft bites down your body, leaving your skin tingling while you laughed.

A gloved hand teased around your face, fingers pressing between your lips until you bit the fabric. He kissed your knees, grinning as you pulled his glove off with your teeth, like you had so many times before. He mirrored you with his other hand, tossing them off the side of the bed like a strip tease.

Your breath caught when he positioned himself between your legs, so very close to where you needed him.

“Want me to do that thing you like,” he asked, the heat and confidence in his words making your head tilt back before you could answer.

“Please, Bugs, I need you… ”

“Of course you do,” he agreed, tracing his face down your inner thigh until his breath teased your core. “No one can make you feel how I can, huh, baby?”

Dangerous words.

Dangerous truth.

“No one, Buggy, please.”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he purred as his hands pulled yours above your head, leaving one hand to trap yours there while the other caressed your body, toying with your chest. “Sing for your captain.”

Sloppy kisses to your clit made you squirm for him, whining as he sucked and teased, until you begged for more.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear ya down here. Whatcha need, dollface?”

“Gods, your tongue, your nose, Buggy, please.”

“Mm, your pretty pussy missed me that much?”

He chuckled as you whined for him, then tilted his face down to rub that perfect nose over and around your sensitive clit. Part of you heard voices, maybe laughter from the couch, but you were too busy pouting, still begging for more.

“Your nose feels so good, baby. Give me more, please,” you pleaded as you shifted your hips, fighting for more friction.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he winked, shoving his face into your dripping cunt while you cried out his name.

It always felt like he was designed for this, that round nose giving the perfect pressure as he tasted you. You could feel him rutting against the mattress, his needy movements adding to the rhythm.

That floating hand massaging your chest focused in, and the teasing pinch to your nipple was enough to push you over the edge. He kept that rhythm and pressure to your clit while you came, and you laughed when he yelled “one,” before returning to his work.

“Do you want me deep?”

His eyes were dark, and heavy with need as he checked in. The sight of his drenched, messy face made you moan, taking a few breaths before you could answer.

“I want you so bad, Buggy, please. You make me feel so good,” you praised, gasping as that teasing hand wrapped fingers around your throat, warning, but not squeezing yet.

“Want me–”

“Choke me, Buggy, fucking take m–”

So many sensations at once. That lovely hand around your neck pressing tight, his face diving into your core as his nose circled your clit again, and his tongue going deep.

He licked and tasted you, like he was licking his plate clean, but that wicked tongue went further.

It had freaked you out a bit when he first tried it on you, but there was nothing in the world that could compare to Buggy’s tongue sinking all the way into you, that thick muscle tasting parts of you that no one could touch. It circled around inside you on its own until he found that sweet, spongy spot.

His tongue fucked into that spot, and tears streamed from your eyes while you screamed his name through his choking grasp. He didn’t let up as you rode through that orgasm, just released your throat to raise two fingers toward the couch.

“Gods, oh fuck, Buggy. It’s too mu–”

His hand clamped over your mouth, and he lifted just enough to shake his head, his tongue too busy for him to reply. He released your face, that hand teasing along your body while he kept up his attack, until he pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

The pressure of his tongue ramming against you from the inside meeting his hand felt like being hit by a fucking train. Your hands almost broke free as you spasmed, the sheer force of pleasure turning you into nothing but twitching, desperate flesh while you came on Buggy’s face.

Your vision came back slowly, sweet hands smoothing over your skin. The feel of his tongue sliding out of you to return to its rightful place arched your back, aftershocks rolling through you.

“Three,” Buggy bragged, leaving kisses on your arm. You hummed, hardly able to open your eyes.

“Ah, but the goal was four,” Mihawk taunted, his voice tensing through Buggy’s body beside you, “and it doesn’t look like Miss Y/N is able to finish the show. What do you think, Crocodile?”

“She knows what’s gonna happen to her,” he growled, and you rolled your head to the side to watch those frightening gray eyes. He looked at you like you were the last bit of food on a desert island, and his hand fisting over himself made your eyes roll back.

“The show must go on,” Buggy laughed nervously, his well earned confidence already floating away.

You reached out to him, your arms shaking until he crawled up your body. You returned his little smile, goosebumps rolling over your skin at the feel of him with you, and all he’d done.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, voice hoarse from him. He looked you over, eyes pouring over your features, until he gave you another smile, wide and wicked.

“Anything for my star.”

He wasted no time, his thick cock pushing into you easily with all the work he’d done. He let out little whimpers, and you clenched around him, wanting him so fucking bad. But he shook himself, rolling his hips into you as he brought a thumb to dance along your clit.

“You like putting on a show,” he asked, his voice a bit strained as he fought himself. “I knew you were a star, and you’ve got the audience wrapped around your little finger, huh? Look at how hard their cocks are just for you. Give them a show, baby.”

Buggy’s breathing went rough as he fucked into you harder. He grabbed your cheeks, your lips pressing out as he made you look at them.

Oh fuck.

Crocodile and Mihawk both had their cocks in their hands, jerking themselves off at the sight of you.

“Buggy, I’m–”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect…”

He held you close as you fell to pieces together. His racing heart, his ragged breaths, and the scent of his skin felt delicious. Even with the twitching of his cock as he spilled his come into you, even with the orgasm that rocked through you, the overwhelming feeling you had in Buggy’s arms was comfort.

“You feeling good, gorgeous,” he asked softly, kissing along your jaw.

“So good,” you hummed, gasping as he twitched inside you, your body clenching around his.

“Well done, toys,” Mihawk praised as the weight on the bed shifted. “Now, open wide.”

“You looked so pretty for daddy,” Crocodile praised while Mihawk pulled Buggy off of you. “Be a good girl, and tell me where you want it.”

He bit his lower lip while you stared at his veiny cock, so fucking close.

“My face. Come on my face, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, gods damn,” he groaned with a breathless laugh. “You are such a good girl. Mm, lick the tip for me sweet– fuck.”

You could already feel his come dripping down your skin when you reached out to taste him, his last shuddering moan making him thrust lightly against your mouth.

“Look at you,” he purred, tracing his thumb over your lips after you licked them clean.

“Our pets have been very well behaved today,” Mihawk praised, moving close beside the larger man before gesturing toward Buggy’s come-covered face. You let out a giggle, then tried to apologize when he met your eyes.

“Not the matching face paint I was thinking of, but I’ll take it,” he interrupted with a wink, earning very subtle, but real chuckles from the other men on the bed.

Crocodile pulled you against his chest, and you realized that in this moment you felt comfort with all three of these bad men. You grinned to yourself at the thought of what home meant to you while you watched Mihawk play with the come that had spilled down to Buggy’s chest.

“Let’s get cleaned up, pets,” he said brightly, managing to crawl gracefully out of the bed. “We can’t have Adam curling up on these sticky sheets.”

“No cats on the bed,” Crocodile ordered, frowning at your pouting lip. “Don’t you start.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you laughed as you rolled away from him.

Buggy grabbed your hand, and you laughed your way to the bathroom, leaving the other men to argue about the new furry roommate. Buggy tossed you a washcloth, and you both wiped what you could of those men off of your skin before he started the shower. He pulled you in to press you against the far wall.

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before…” he whispered, tilting his nose away so he could be closer to your face while the water drowned out his words. “Can I tell you now, pretty star?”

His deep blue eyes seemed deeper than you’d ever seen, and your breath caught in your throat.

Why am I tense?

“Okay,” you managed to whisper, waiting to breathe properly again.

He nodded a few times as he looked down, before cradling your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks.

“I know things are– well you know how it is, but…” he trailed off, scanning your face as if watching every movement.

“Buggy…”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his brows lifting high as his breathing seemed heavy, heavier as he waited for you to reply. He stared at your parted lips until more words hurried out of him. “I loved you before, and I still love you now. You’re my pretty star, no matter what, right?”

The worry in his voice broke you out of your stupor, and you wrapped your arms around him.

“Buggy, I–”

He pulled you under the water, the heat making you gasp as the door to the bathroom opened.

“Here you are, pets. Sir Crocodile’s list of expectations if Adam is to stay with us.”

Mihawk dropped a pad of paper onto the counter, cocking his head at you both while Crocodile followed close behind.

“Why haven’t you started on that hair? It’s late enough as it is,” Mihawk tutted, and you couldn’t keep your mouth from falling open as you watched Mihawk take Buggy’s long hair into his hands. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut at the swordsman’s touch, but his words kept ringing in your ears, even as Crocodile smiled at you, hunching down to rinse his hair.

Adam wasn’t allowed in tonight, so it was just the four of you climbing onto that giant bed, four of you pressed in so close. You and Buggy curled in against each other’s chests, with Crocodile around your back, and Mihawk curling around Buggy to lay his long fingers somewhere along your side.

Tonight Mihawk’s fingers teased along your ribs, his thumb almost tickling as it played down your stomach. Crocodile kissed the back of your head, and your comforting sleeping arrangement was complete.

Something about the way Buggy held you felt different.

Is it different? Or did I just not notice it before?

His breathing was slow, and the way he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss should have been comforting.

You should have fallen asleep by now.

Instead, you laid there as the three men around you fell asleep. You laid there in the most comfortable, most comforting position you’d ever been in.

But you couldn’t fall asleep.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: BUGGYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 😭🤡

Part 15

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

72 notes · View notes

bendycxmet · 2 days

Text

Pierced—Vash the Stampede

Summary: How did Vash get that hoop in??

Word Count: ~1.2k

Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede

Content: fluff, a lil angsty, Vash deserves his sense of self ok

a/n: @aboveweirdest gave me this wonderful idea while we were analyzing this man to death! tyty was thinking about this when i got another helix piercing done recently so i whipped this up before bed

In recent days, you’ve seen Vash eyeing you. At least, more than what is normal. It was unsettling everytime you felt his gaze on you whenever you tried passing the time by creating something out of scraps you found into jewelry, specifically earrings.

For instance, he was doing it now, as your hands worked the small pliers expertly to transform a piece of gold wire into a hoop. You either usually pierce your own ears with your creations, or sell them in town for some extra cash you both could use for bullets or food. Vash wishes he could be as good as you on the artsy side, but you always remind him that he is good with his hands. No one can beat him in marksmanship.

“Like what you see there, gunman?” you tease, side eyeing him for a split second. Caught in the act, Vash blushes a lovely red that reaches the tip of his ears. You love getting a rise out of him.

“Do you wanna learn? Is that it? Because you’ve been a little too curious these past couple of days.”

“Mm.. ‘s not that. I just… How many piercings do you have?”

The question comes out of nowhere for you. You think it’s obvious, since mostly all of them are on your ears. Doing mental math, you count what you have on your ears.

“Uh, around 11? I’m thinking of doing more, but we’ve been too busy lately.”

He simply nods, humming to himself as he visibly thinks through your answer.

“Why do you pierce your ears?” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Don’t mean that in an offensive way!” He quickly puts his hands up, offering a sign of peace. You laugh at his gestures. “I just been noticing lately that your usual customers are people with loads of piercings, and I never gave it much thought before to get one of my own, but I think…they look so cool on others. They seem so happy with them too, expressing themselves without even saying a word.”

Your hands still at his words, something dropping in your stomach and twisting at his solemn expression. Vash never revealed much about his past, and you never probed him further. Anytime anything connected to his past came up, you could clearly tell whatever happened had left its scars on him, physically and mentally. You respected his decision to close up those details, and reminded him that whenever, if ever, he was ready to share that load with you, you would be there.

You look back down at the gold hoop in your hands, an idea coming to mind. You quickly add the finishing touches, putting a little more effort into it as it was for someone special now.

“Hey, what do you think of this?” You hold up the hoop to Vash’s eyes, catching the glimmer in his eyes at your recent creation, like that of a thief spotting expensive items through a window. Greed and envy swirling together.

“It’s beautiful! You always amaze me with how you turn a piece of trash into such a pretty object. That one’s gonna sell fast Mayfly!” You warm at his praise and nickname for you. His confidence and support for your skills potentially outweighed yours for how he handled his gun.

Yet, you can’t stand the fake smile he plasters on his face, masking the jealousy he feels for the future owner of the golden hoop.

“Think I’m gonna sell it for free. It’s for someone close to me.” Vash simply cocks his head to the side. You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “How about letting me pierce your ear for you?”

The change in his demeanor is quick. He straightens his back, eyes shining brightly, nodding eagerly at you. “I’m in your hands!”

Grabbing a small threading needle from your kit, you order him to sit close to you on motel bed. Cleaning your hands and the needle, you search his face, looking for any signs of regret.

“You sure about this? Do you know where you want it?”

He’s pensive for a moment, eyes looking past you. He hums, pointing at his left lobe. How perfect, you think, same side as his cute little mole.

You fidget, rethinking piercing his ear. You’ve only ever pierced yourself, so now that you have someone else in front of you, you feel like a total amateur.

“Hey. Get out of your head there. I know what you’re thinking.” Vash’s voice breaks through your brain fog. He wraps his hand around your raised arm, poised and ready to pierce him. He gently tightens his hold on your waist. “I trust you.” You feel your heart twinge at the soft vulnerability in his eyes.

“Ok, this will be a slight pinch. I know you’re used to pain-” you interject, noting his slightly raised eyebrow, silently telling you been there done that. “-but just follow my rules. Ok, breathe in for me.” You raise the needle to his ear. “And breathe out.” As you feel his breath ghost your arm, you push the needle as quickly as you can through his ear, quickly adding the hoop to his ear.

You turn around to wash your hands. “And there you go! Your first piercing ever! Crazy, considering that you’re like 150- hey don’t touch-” you catch him as he’s going to finger his new piercing, staring straight at the mirror on the vanity opposite the bed. The warning dies in your throat at the sight of him nearly in tears.

“I…I love it,” he says in a warbled voice.

“Oh Vash, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I really tried to be careful. Always with you.” You sit beside him, leaning onto his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. He sniffs.

“It’s not you. It’s just…this is the first time I feel like I’ve done something for myself. I feel like my own person. With just a hoop.” Wet tears trail down his cheeks. You press your fingers to his cheeks, wiping his tears. You know how he’s been burdened with his past, no doubt still feeling the shadow of his brother and the destruction that’s come from his actions. Perhaps this earring meant more than you could ever imagine, perhaps it finally binded him to the present, and to his own future that he can create.

“You’ve always been Vash to me. Never your brother. Just you. Vash the Stampede. The most amazing gunman to ever walk into my life.” He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck.

“Thank you. Now, I feel like everyone else. Maybe they can see me as one of them. Not this humanoid disaster.” You nuzzle into him, hands returning to their rubbing against his back.

“You look nice by the way. It suits you really well. The gold complements your blue blue eyes,” you tease, hoping to get a chuckle out of him.

He pecks your cheek, another thank you from him. He presses his face tighter to you, jolting suddenly. “Ow!”

“Yeahh, it’s gonna be a bit tender for a bit.”

masterlist

divider by saradika

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader fluff #vash the stampede x reader fluff #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #trigun x reader fluff #tristamp #vash #vash the stampede #bendycxmet writes

68 notes · View notes