#my god tumblr do not crash on me now i beg of you

[mortyvongola2-0]

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Tobirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smutty smut

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oh so many, afab!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, way too much overstimulation, copious amounts of cum, oral sex male receiving, copious amounts of fluids, temperature play, virginity kink, breeding kink, praise kink, power kink, aphrodisiacs, stomach bulge, use of inanimate objects for stimulation, Tobi-rail-me, Tobirama's schlong is too big, womb bullying, no refractory period, strong language

A/N: Holy shit this is so long and I’m so sorry it took forever to get out but it’s finally here and I’m so relieved. Again, sorry it took so long but honestly this thing is monstrous. Twice the size of Madara's and almost twice the size of Hashirama's. There's a lot of lore and references in here to the previous Sacrifices and to future ones but you don't have to read either to fully enjoy this.

Thanks so much again to my amazing editing bestie @therantingfangirl and my artistic troll @skydaddy01 for all your hard work helping me make this so great~ You guys are the best. As well as all my tumblr friends who have been patiently waiting and encouraging me. And thank you so much to all of you who waited and enjoyed the previous ones.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy the final fic for the first season of Sacrificed. Sacrificed (Water)

Read it on AO3

A child had been chosen, a young girl only 8 years old. A child with a bright smile and a love of the color green, a child who’d never known a day of hardship, who’s skin was unblemished and who’s laughter could brighten even the darkest of situations—your little sister had been chosen to be the sacrifice. Your mother had dropped to her knees, your father brought to tears, and all you could do was sit and stare as it felt like the world came crashing down around you. How could they do that? Under who’s authority was she chosen?

You wanted to scream, to run through the village and gather an army in protest of such a grotesque decision, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to work with you, and you were only able to sit and stare as your little sister tried to comprehend why her family was suddenly so distraught. The officials who brought your world to ruin stood there and watched, unflinching and uncaring, as your precious little sister cupped your face in her chubby hands. There were tears in her eyes, which brought tears to yours.

 “What’s wrong? What does that mean?” She was scared because you were scared, because your mother wouldn’t stop begging on her knees while your father squeezed his eyes shut and held his wife back from gripping the hem of the officials’ robes as she pleaded for mercy.

This isn’t right, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wrapped your larger hands around the trembling ones on your cheeks. She’s just a child, if the gods are just they wouldn’t ask for such a sacrifice.

Why her and not you? You were an adult, passed marrying age, some of the village teens had started to call you the old maid because of your single status. They’d laugh as you’d yell back, telling them you weren’t old at all, but of course they never listened. That same question kept repeating itself in your mind. Why her and not me?

“That is all,” the highest official stated. “We will come to collect her for the ceremony next week.”

He turned, as did the other three, and they began to walk away. Why her? You tightened your grip on her small hands. Why must she pay the price for the rest of us? Why not- “me,” you called out. The officials paused and you removed you sister’s hands from your face and held onto them as you stood. “I volunteer in her place.” Your hands shook, you were more afraid than you’d ever been, but your resolve outweighed your fear. A child, not only her but especially one like her didn’t deserve to be so cruelly murdered for everyone else’s sake. “Is that acceptable?”

The group of four stuffy, old men seemed to ponder that as they looked at one another in a panic. They seemed to huddle together for a bit, every second that passed weighed on you like a stone. What if they said no?

I won’t let them take her.

Calls for a sacrifice didn’t happen often, normally the four-village alliance just went about their days as usual, but a drought had begun. The rains had stopped almost five months ago, the crops were suffering and therefore the livestock suffered, and with both the crops and livestock in short supply the strain on the people became too great to ignore. Even the fish supply, which was a staple for coastal villages like yours, had begun to grow scarce due to the low tides. It almost felt like the water was disappearing overnight. So a sacrifice was needed—am mortal that would be offered up to the water god as payment for the rains he offered.

No one knew what became of those who were sacrificed, whether they died at sea or, against all odds, were placed in the hands of a cruel god. They never returned, body or soul. Most assumed they died at sea. The religion among the people had begun to wane since the last sacrifice, many had believed the practice to be cruel and barbaric. The officials turned back toward your small family and cleared their throats. “We appreciate your willingness,” the oldest, who wore the most expensive robes, glanced nervously between the others before clearing his throat. “We will have the elder females come check to make sure you are worthy of the position.” They would check to make sure your maidenhood was intact, that was the one qualification you knew of, and you met it just fine.

“Very well.”

“They should arrive within the next few days, and if all goes well, we will arrive next week for you instead of your sister.” With that, they left, and all of your strength went with them.

You crumbled to the floor, your young sister began to panic, your mom clutched you and sobbed more as your father held all three of you tightly. You could only imagine how badly your teenage brother would react to the news, but somehow you felt numb. An all-consuming nothingness filled your chest as you wrapped your arms around your precious little sister.

Yes, your mind supplied. Its better this way.

The elder women came after two days and confirmed your virginity and whatever else it was they were looking for, after that you were told to go to the official’s lodgings every day to be prepared for the official ceremony. It was an odd affair, you were forced to kneel before a statue and pray to it daily, only allowed to eat lotus roots, and coached on the part of the ceremony that involved everyone else. You were never told what to do after your small boat was set afloat in the sea. Those preparations took up most of your day and when you’d return home your mother would try her best to put on a smile and act like everything was okay, your father would take every opportunity he could to embrace you, your little brother did his best to hide the tears in his eyes, and your poor little sister, who still didn’t quite understand but knew something was wrong, would burst into tears and cling to you all evening.

It was an overwhelming experience, but you fell into the routine like it was second nature, so when the day of the ceremony arrived you were thrown a bit off balance. Instead of lotus roots you were given nothing to eat, only a strangely thick fluid that warmed you to your core whenever you drank it. The time that had been allotted for prayer had become the time for grooming. You were placed into a warm bath of the same fluid, you figured it was to save on the limited supply of water, and they bathed you like a princess. The elder women massaged your skin and combed your hair to perfection. They painted your lips and eyes with crimson, and your abdomen and thighs were decorated with blue dragons that spewed water and seemed to move alongside dark storm clouds. Sitting still while being painted had been rather difficult, the softness of the brush and gentleness of the strokes had left you ticklish and tingly. You thought that viscous fluid had something to do with the latter, the more you drank it the warmer you became and the more sensitive you felt.

The women wrapped you in what felt like gauze. The soft material made the hairs on your body raise, you blamed it on the new sensitivity. They wrapped your breasts like they were being bound, then tied off the artificial top behind your neck; the bottoms were similar, wrapped around your hips and upper thighs until they formed a short skirt that covered enough but too little all the same and made it difficult to walk. Jewelry was placed in your hair, pearls of white and blue were scattered about your locks, and you estimated the price of half of those decorations alone to be worth more than four times the price of your family’s home. Probably enough money to feed your family and your neighbor’s families for two or three years, but that was only your estimation.

Your feet remained bare but they placed bands of silver with pendants of matching pearls around your ankles and wrists, they made a small jingle noise whenever you walked. When they felt you were decorated enough they pinned your hair up and placed a veil over your head. Your vision was obscured but the women took your hands and guided you to the ceremony area in the center of the four villages. The sun hung low in the sky and the people quieted down as you were brought beside the officials. The weight of what was about to happen truly began to settle in your chest and churn your stomach.

 Its fine, you had to tell yourself. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been her, so its fine. As long as it’s not her, anything is fine.

“Great God of Water,” the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears drowned out most of the official’s grand speech, your brain was only able to catch onto the last portion. “We ask for your mercy and blessings upon us in these desperate times. Please, bless us with your rains once more. Bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you!”

The villagers were full of mixed emotions, though you could not see it, you could hear the hesitation and reluctance to cheer from the crowd. “You are doing us a great service,” the official told you quietly, he kept a solid grip on your bicep. “You will not be forgotten.”

You were led from the center of the villages to a palanquin where you were commanded to enter. Once you were secured inside you heard the cry of a familiar little voice. Your precious little sister called out and tried to run after you and into the palanquin. Your father ran after her and picked her up quickly to keep her from climbing inside. You poked your head out and lifted your veil to see her one last time. A pain unlike any other gripped your heart as you looked at her tear-stricken face, and the frowns of grief on your other three family members. “I have to go now, little lily,” your voice almost cracked, and your eyes filled with tears as you called her by her nickname. “Be sure to watch over mom and dad for me, and don’t do anything to worry your older siblings too much.”

“O-okay,” she sniffled pathetically.

“I love you, all of you,” you whispered, unsure whether they would hear it or not, before lowering your veil again and righting yourself in the vehicle. If you had said anything more, or looked at their face’s any longer, leaving would have become unbearable. Your heart squeezed again, and you had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill and ruin the hard work and time that went into your face paintings. The palanquin stopped after what felt like only a few moments. A man you recognized as one of the many officials assisted you in your exit and began to lead you toward a well-known pier.

The sounds of the ocean had once calmed you, a relaxing sound from the time you were young, now the sounds only heightened your anxiety. The other officials followed behind as you were led down a set of steps and told to step into a decorated boat fit for one. There were strings of blue and white flowers placed along the edges of the boat and inside, the soft petals cushioned your feet as you stepped in. The boat rocked and you had to keep your balance as you clutched the elder man’s hand for dear life. Some of the water splashed against your feet and into the bottom of the boat, and you feared that there was a leak somewhere.

Its fine, you repeated to yourself, over and over. A mantra to try and collect yourself. You’re doing this for your little sister, for her, for your family. Its fine.

“Sit down carefully,” the man said as he helped usher you onto the cushioned bench and let go of your hand. You sat stock still, back straight, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your gauzy coverings to occupy your swirling mind. What was going to happen to you?

Don’t worry about it, just focus on how you’re protecting your little lily, your family.

The material stretched under the stress of your nervous fingers. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you anything more,” the high official began from his spot beside the one that had guided you. He handed you a glass bottle of the same liquid you had been drinking all day. “For what it’s worth, you are far braver than anyone I have ever met.”

You stared at him blankly, you were panicking, how is that brave? You wanted nothing more than to jump out of that boat, back onto the docks, and run away. But you knew that if it wasn’t you, it would be her and that was unacceptable. “Farewell, I wish you only happiness in your next life.”

With that, they set your boat adrift, almost in perfect sync with the sun dipping under the horizon.

It was a strange sensation, an isolation you knew not many could understand. You were alone, set adrift in the sea, not knowing what would happen to you. The waves pushed your craft along, rocked it, made it creak. Luckily for you, you didn’t get seasick easily, but the constant motion was disorienting. There was nothing to do but fall deeper into your racing thoughts; wondering how you would get out of this and whether it would end with you living or dead. Maybe you’d die of thirst, cooked like a fish in a pan under the sun after a few days of only the strange milky fluid to drink. That fluid certainly didn’t help with the heat.

A strange light from the corner of your eye caught your attention and you lifted your veil to get a clearer image. You looked into the water, leaning as gently as you could to one side. The light was soft, glowing and pulsing with its glow as it drifted just within sight. One soft purple glow became two, then became a third with more pinks and yellows; more and more lights began to show up just under the surface. They moved with the current, going in the same direction as your boat, and you stared in awe at the sheer number of soft lights. They surrounded your vessel on both sides, each one seeming like its own entity.

The blue lights were the most beautiful, they were few but seemed to dance to a tune only they knew. You dipped your hand under the water’s dark surface, doing your best to try to reach one of the creatures. One hit your hand and it almost felt like nothing. It flinched, its glowing body maneuvering around your hand to continue its path. “Are these jellyfish?” You tilted your head to the side, enraptured by the phenomenon before you.

You wondered how many others had witnessed such a beautiful display, and with so many all at once. Jellyfish were not rare, many washed up on shore or got caught in fishing nets as they floated with the current, but never had you seen any that glowed. It felt like a private show, just for you.

Was the water god taking pity on you? The thought made you frown. Allowing you to see some unseen wonders of the ocean as thanks for your sacrifice? Did the beauty of these creatures really make up for what was to come? If they really were from the water god- you cut off that train of thought, unsure what to feel. There was a strange tightness to your chest that you were unfamiliar with. Bitterness maybe? Twisted reverence and self-pity melded together in an uncomfortable whirl of feelings? You clicked your tongue.

The water began to grow louder, almost restless in sound. Reluctantly you looked away from the beautiful jellyfish to search for the source of the noise. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary that you could see, but it felt like your boat was going faster, the water’s volume only increasing as your boat continued on. You glanced back down to the jellyfish below you and couldn’t tell if anything was wrong. They seemed to be drifting at the same speed you were. “The current must’ve picked up.”

To add to the beauty of your private show, you began to place some of the flower petals that decorated the deck of your boat on the water. Scattering them about to add another layer to the multitude below you. The blue and white petals decorated the surface and accented the glow nicely. You laid your head on the boat’s edge, relaxing as the moon shone high in the sky. The sound of the rushing waves, the motion that had nauseated you only an hour or two prior began to lull you to sleep. You continued to scatter petals as your eyes fell closed, your overheated fingers relaxing against the chill of the sea. Yes, you thought, mind caught between the waking world and the slumbering one. It’ll be fine like this. Everything will be fine.

“Lord Tobirama,” you whispered, sleepiness creeping into your voice. “Please, save my family.”

A flash of light lit up the sky, almost like a strike of lightning but without the ferocity of thunder. The waves grew larger, you clung to the edge of your wooden craft as it rocked with the aggravated water. It seemed even the jellyfish had begun to struggle, as their lights began to dim and disappear, leaving you on your own once again. “What in the,” the winds picked up and you held your hair down. Misty water began to spray everywhere, and you fell back against the deck as a particularly rough wave crashed against your boat. The raging water was deafening, the moon and stars were not enough to illuminate the now dark waters. You sat up and immediately wished you hadn’t.

A telltale swirling had begun in the waves a short distance ahead and you knew that meant certain death for you. Your panic began to rise again, your knuckles turned white as you clutched the back of the boat as if that would save you. What could save you? Was there anything? I don’t want to die, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, the winds and water whipped your hair and made those expensive pearls fall from their delicate places. The veil was torn from your head, cold sea water crashed against your back and into your boat and filled the bottom with a layer of water, the flower petals floated up to your ankles and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Before your wooden vessel even dipped below the angry waves you were soaked to the bone. The whirlpool took hold of your barely afloat vessel and you never felt so hopeless. A deafening crack resounded and you stumbled like a newborn fawn. You opened your eyes in time to watch as your face crashed into the sea, the overwhelming current pulling you under and it felt like it was trying to pull you apart. You choked on the water, too startled to make any rational decisions. Your eyes stung, all you could see was darkness, the current kept pushing and pushing at you, you couldn’t tell which way was up and which led further into the depths. Someone help!

Something incredibly cold, colder than the water touched your outstretched arm and began to pull you through the never-ending darkness. You sputtered and coughed as you broke through the water’s surface. Your eyes stung, so you kept them closed. Your lungs, nose, and throat burned as you did your best to expel all of the salty liquid you had swallowed. Whatever had pulled you out had pulled you to a sandbar or something of the sort as you were able to stay on your knees and keep your airways above water.

Once you had finished expelling the water from your lungs, you greedily began to suck in air, as if you swallowed enough of it you’d never drown again. After a bit of calming down and realizing you were no longer on deaths door you felt alright enough to open your stinging eyes. For a while everything was blurry, no matter how many times you blinked to calm the stinging sensation it remained. Though everything was distorted, you could see that you were in a dark structure of some kind. The body of water that had been an ocean before was now a large square pool with lily pads and lotus floating atop the surface, a lily pad had even clung to your left side. The water came up to your waist while you remained on your knees.

You felt your panic begin to rise once again. How is that possible? I was just in the middle of the ocean how can I-

“You’re alive,” a deep timber. You looked up and saw the blurry outline of a tall person in front of you. Had he been there before? His feet were bare as he seemed to stand on the water’s surface like it was solid ground. All of your well-earned air felt like it was punched out of your lungs. “Good.”

From what you could make out, this man had light hair. Maybe white or silver? Your vision was still too blurry to tell. He had on some sort of long deep blue draping, a robe maybe? The pants he wore underneath the draping were dark in color, you guessed black, and the trimmings on the robe were of a silver variety. One of his large hands reached for your face, and you flinched at the chill of his touch. You closed your eyes, fear gripping your form, but all you felt was the gentle caress of his thumb across both of your eyelids. His hand pulled back as soon as he’d finished and the stinging that had plagued your vision disappeared.

When you opened your eyes again you were hesitant but felt relief at being able to see everything clearly once more. The white-haired man stood high above you his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You were right, it had been a royal blue robe, with filigree and dragons depicted in a sparkling silver thread. His skin was so pale, almost like moonshine incarnate. He had three red markings on his face, one on each cheek and one on his defined chin, each one came to a pointed tip towards the center of his face. There was a tuft of white fur spiked at the top of his collar, it matched his spiked hair.

He wore a frown on his face, seemingly greatly displeased. Under his silken robe he seemed to be wearing a tight black shirt, resembled under armor in appearance and it ended midway up his neck, covering his defined adam’s apple. “You,” he began, the baritone of his voice made your face heat and brought a shiver down your spine. The man seemed to think carefully about what he wanted to say, his arms flexed, you were entranced by the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his piercing red eyes never left your form. A sigh escaped him, you tilted your head, he began to disrobe before tossing the soft material at you. It covered your face and confused you. “Put that on and follow me.”

You frowned at the thought of ruining such nice material with your wet form. It was such a luxurious fabric; you didn’t think you’d ever felt anything like it before or would ever feel anything like it again. The more you touched it, the more you realized your dripping fingers didn’t bother the material at all. It was almost like the water didn’t exist, the material neither repelled or soaked in the water from your form so you finally gave in. It took you a minute to stand, he faced away from you as you stood, and you realized he was being polite.

The gauze-like material had soaked in a lot of water and loosely hung from your form. Your breasts were almost entirely bare, your right nipple on full display, and your sort of skirt had sagged so much your entire lower belly was exposed and displayed the fullness of your hips. You could only guess what your backside looked like and hastily wrapped the blue robe around yourself. “I—” you began, voice hoarse from the strain of swallowing and expelling sea water. “Where am I?”

The man turned his head a bit to glance at you and you assumed he deemed your appearance appropriate because he began to walk away. His feet left ripples against the water’s surface as he stepped on it like flooring; meanwhile, the water still swallowed your feet and up to your shins. He couldn’t possibly be—

“You are in my domain.”

“Your domain?”

“Yes.”

You were struggling to keep up with his pace, your body still bit wobbly from the adrenaline drain.

“I am Tobirama.”

“Tobirama!?” The Tobirama? Tobirama Senju, the water god? The one your sister had almost been sacrificed to and the one that you had been? He was real? And alive and well apparently. Without the robe, more of his physique was on display. His back was muscled, his shoulders broad but waist on the slimmer side. The shirt he wore had cut outs at his hips that exposed more of his milky skin and teased the defined bones there.

“That’s Lord Tobirama to you.”

You dropped to your knees quickly, your arms outstretched in front of you with your palms toward the heavens. You placed your forehead flat against the cold black stone at the edge of the pool, your quick action had caused the waters of the pool to begin to move again, the sash on the robe had untied itself and the cold water against your hot warm flesh startled you. “Lord Tobirama, god of water and keeper of knowledge, please send your blessed rains to my people.”

When he did not respond you decided to continue. “My family—my village, they will starve soon without them. Please show us your mercy.” Your lips trembled, your throat tightening at the thought of your family. “I know I am insignificant and unworthy but—” the high priest’s concluding line came to mind as you tried to win his favor, bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you! “Please use my life to spare theirs.”

The silence weighed heavy after your pleading, and you dared not lift your head. Was he thinking? Was he angry? Had he disappeared? Your mind raced with questions, with thoughts and feared outcomes. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, so you squeezed them shut. This was it, wasn’t it? You’d die by angering him, not having saved anyone in your family let alone the youngest. I’m sorry little lily, everyone.

Cold, very cold, fingers tipped your chin upward. He held your head in place to make you look up at him. His face remained neutral, which was better than you had expected. Those red eyes scanned your features, your eyes were wide and dewy. You had never expected the god of water to be so handsome, so human-like and yet still so ethereal. The fingers that held your face were so large and strong, you knew you couldn’t break away unless he allowed it. You wondered what he was looking for as his eyes scanned your own again.

Those cold hands moved and began to help you to your feet, they allowed you to lean on him a bit, your twitching fingers gripping his forearms tightly as you balanced yourself and hoped for the best all at the same time.

“I cannot alter the course of nature,” was his simple reply. So simple and yet even more crushing than the sentence that had announced your sister as a sacrifice. “I will send you back in a few days’ time, mortals cannot stay in the realm of gods for too long. You will remain here in the meantime.”

Your grip on his arms tightened. He was so close, but you felt so far removed that you didn’t notice the minute twitch of his fingers against your hands or the subtle downturn of his luscious lips as he watched your face crumble. The fact that you were stuck there hadn’t even registered until later on when he led you to the room you would occupy while there. Tobirama allowed you two rooms, one a very luxurious bedroom, decorated in dark marble walls with glowing pearl like stones for light, all material made of the same type of royal blue and silver silk as the robe he encouraged you to keep on. The room was so beautiful it made you feel out of place. There were bookshelves that adorned the walls beside the double doors; they were made of pearl with many tomes and texts, scrolls and leather-bound books, all worn and delicately placed like they’d been read and reread many times over.

The second room you were allowed was an equally exquisite bathing chamber. Again, the walls were dark marble, inlaid with pearlescent accents. The same pearl like stones glowed for light, and an empty pool similar in shape to the one you had emerged from rest at the center of the room, the edges and inside decorated with bright silver. You wondered how often humans, or even other gods, used these rooms but you didn’t voice your question. Your heart still felt heavy with the knowledge that you were of no use to your people or family.

“When I go back, will I be able to be with my family again?” The question left you before you could think about it.

The god closed his eyes and crossed his arms again, a soft sigh left him as he began to walk toward the heavy double doors that led back into the hallway. “I suggest bathing before going back to your bedchambers, that ceremonial makeup you mortals love so much has smudged everywhere from the sea water.”

His avoidance of your question irritated you.

“What use is going back then? If I can’t save them, if I can’t see them, I’d rather you have left me to die in that whirlpool.”

He paused, his back visibly straightening, before he opened the doors and left you alone in the unfamiliar room. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was loud and it brought your negative emotions to a head. You felt so helpless, so hopeless. The weight of your emotions brought you to your knees again, but you began to slam your fists against the polished floors in your anguish. What use were you? Was this situation? It hadn’t mattered that you took your sister’s place, she would still starve along with the rest of your loved ones. You hadn’t truly believed in the water god but some small voice in the back of your head had whispered the possibility of salvation, which you hadn’t realized had become a hope.

You cried your fill, cried until your eyes hurt and wailed until your throat gave out in protest. When your body wouldn’t let you cy any longer you wiped your eyes and nose and just sniffled. There was no way for you to tell how much time had passed, but a bath and sleep sounded like the best you could do at that moment. You stood and removed the robe and began to remove the loose gauze you had been wrapped in and used it to wipe off the smudges of paint that were left along your body. Across the back wall was a large mirror that you approached. Your reflection looked rough.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, the beautiful makeup was smudged, your hair was fizzled and damp with half dried sea water, the pearls and decorations that remained were strewn about in a tangled mess. A sigh left you as you began to pick out the decorations one by one and placed them on the floor beside you. When you finished you were surprised to find that the pool had filled with water without you having to do anything, but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. You were in the home of the water god after all.

After your bath, which was at best lukewarm, you replaced the blue robe and walked back to the room that you had been given. You were so tired, you decided to flop down on the plush bed. It was so soft, but so unfamiliar. What was there for you to do now? When you were expelled from the realm of the gods, where would you go? Where would you be? How did it all work? Those questions kept running through your mind until your body could no longer stay awake.

A few cycles of sleep passed by like that, you assumed they were days but you couldn’t be too sure. When you woke up there was always fresh fruit placed carefully on the bedside table for you to eat. You would partake in the familiar foods as you explored the hallways and rooms of the domain. You knew you were told to stay within those rooms but there was not much else for you to occupy your time with. Eventually you stumbled upon where Tobirama seemed to spend most of his time.

It looked to be a study, comprised of the same dark marble and pearl mixture, with a desk like structure raised from the ground for him to sit in front of. Bookshelves like the ones in your chambers lined all four walls, each organized but in a chaotic manner. The books and tomes in that room looked far more used than the ones in your own, which was quite impressive. The first time you stumbled upon him there he seemed to be studying some sort of scroll, brush in hand for note taking. Despite your anger toward him you couldn’t help but admire his appearance. Everything about him was enticing, from the elongated bridge of his nose to the way he furrowed his brow in concentration. The flexing of his shoulder blades as his arms moved and the subtle tapping of his bare foot as he worked felt more human to you than you wanted him to be.

Despite your one oversized robe he seemed to have found another to wear, this one was black with white dragons and square like patterns made of royal blue. A similar fur to the one that lined your collar lined his and you wondered if it was because he was cold. His skin had certainly felt freezing. After watching him for a while you’d move on to a different room, your second favorite one to visit. It was the room you had arrived in. The pool you had come out of laid at the center of the room, under a large skylight with columns of white marble seemingly holding the structure up. The sky that was shone was so unfamiliar that if you hadn’t known you were in another realm that would’ve told you immediately.

The sky remained dark, but a dark blue of sorts, with patterns of light that looked like water reflections being the only source of motion. The reflective patterns were very bright, and they shone down on the center of the water pool where an altar like structure sat. It was made of the same white marble as the four columns, and it had engravings along the edges of the pedestal. The only one you could make out read a sacrifice of flesh and blood and it made you wonder if this structure had been a temple at one point.

At the other end of that room, across from the altar and pool sat a throne like chair that seemed to be made of pearl. It was freezing to the touch and felt rather uncomfortable when you sat on it. The seat itself was far too large for you, you estimated two of you could sit in it with some room to spare, but you weren’t sure if it would be equally roomy for Tobirama. He was a rather tall man, with an athletic frame, but you thought he’d fit perfectly in the center with just enough space on both sides. The throne made you feel rather lonely, looking out at the empty room and still pool from that spot felt empty. You decided to sit on the altar and watch the sky from there, rather than the lonely throne.

When time kept stretching by, with only fruits, nuts, and roots to eat, and the oversized structure thoroughly explored without forcing your way into locked rooms, you began to comb through the texts in your room. Some of them you couldn’t read, written in some other language or the wording was too difficult to understand, but some were rather interesting. Most of the scrolls seemed to be religious texts, about the different gods and their regions of reign.

Like the sun god and the god of forests, Tobirama was revered as a long-standing deity. The tome you read had claimed him to be the younger brother of the god of forests. That same tome talked about other gods, one was even supposedly a descendent of Tobirama but he had been one of the punished so his name was blotted out of the text. Some of the other books talked about Madara, the sun god, and how strong he was and the many theories behind his rise while other gods like Tobirama and Hashirama, the god of forests, were left to decline. That particular part must have been outdated, as Lord Hashirama’s region and strength had seemed to quadruple in the past 30 years. Your mother had been born in that village and she had spoke about the abundance and grace of the forest god.

You paused a moment. The story your mother told said that Lord Hashirama had regained his strength after falling in love with a female human that had been given to him as a sacrifice and one of the handwritten scrolls you read had theorized that Lord Madara’s great strength came from the yearly sacrificial ritual his region practiced. “Then is Tobirama unable to change nature because he isn’t strong enough? Because there hasn’t been enough human sacrifice?”

You thought back to when you knew to be the last human sacrifice given to the water god, which was before you were born. How many years had it been? Your father had been the one to tell you about it, and about the outcry of the people afterward. Even when telling the story he seemed disgusted by what had occurred. “He was only 11? Or was father 10?” Either way it seemed there hadn’t been a sacrifice made to Tobirama in almost 50 years before you.

So what was different about you? Had you not done something important to complete the ritual to give him strength? Were you even enough? Did it have to do with your age? You couldn’t recall how old the previous sacrifice was but you thought she had been an older woman. Burning with determination and questions, you clutched the theory tightly to your chest and made your way toward the water god’s study.

You barged in, too focused on your emotions to think about the disrespect you were showing a god. He had paused his writing when you entered, his sleeve held back in one hand to prevent ink stains and brush in the other. The water god looked handsome as he always did, same black long-sleeved shirt but he wore another royal blue robe, the pattern on it was of silver water lilies and koi swimming beneath. It was beautiful, and he left the robe open for all to admire the tightness of his shirt against his skin. Tobirama looked at you calmly and waited for you to explain why you interrupted him.

“What’s wrong with me?” You blurted out, sophistication and eloquence being two words that could not be used to describe you at that moment.

“What?”

“The scroll,” you unfurled said paper and pointed it at it, approaching closer to his desk. He set his brush down and took it carefully from your grasp. “You don’t have the power to send rains or to even send me back, do you?”

He remained silent, his sharp eyes glanced up at you before his jaw clenched and he looked down at the scroll again. “You haven’t had a sacrifice in 50 years, so your strength has dwindled.”

“Wrong,” he stated calmly and set the scroll down on his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest. A habit he seemed to have. “It’s been almost 200 years.”

“What?”

He let out a sigh and looked you in the eye, a slight frown on his lips. “Gods often sleep to conserve power; I believe I have been asleep for about 200 or so years.”

“Then the previous sacrifices?”

He shook his head and his silence weighed on you. You pressed your lips together and rubbed your arm slowly. “Why did you wake up then?”

“I am unsure,” he paused and tilted his head back. “When I last went to sleep, I was certain my brother and I would sleep for the rest of eternity, but it seems there was just enough prayer to reawaken me.”

“Lord Hashirama had weakened too?”

“Yes, we believed that humans no longer needed gods so we decided it would be better to fall silent.”

“But not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Hashirama’s region has been flourishing for at least three decades now. I assume he’s still awake even now.”

Tobirama looked to the side as he processed that information. “Madara too,” you continued. “He receives a yearly sacrifice even now and his people call themselves the Empire of the Sun and have yet to diminish. They are currently attempting to unite the continent.”

The water god’s fists clenched and his eyes narrowed at that news. “Damn him,” he muttered under his breath. “And has my brother done anything to stop this? To stop him?”

“I don’t know, I only know about the legends.” You rubbed your sleeve covered arm a bit hard and bit your bottom lip before asking. “So what do I need to do to restore your power? Is there anything I can do? I am your sacrifice after all.”

He let out a loud huff through his nose as he closed his eyes. The water god tapped against his arm as he seemed to think on things. Your chest tightened with emotion. Could you really end up saving your family after all? Nothing would please you more, even if it was something scary like letting him devour you whole, you would do it without hesitation. Tobirama uncrossed his arms and placed them on the desk in front of him.

“There is but I’m not sure how much power I’ll be able to gain from your worship alone,” he began to move his papers and scrolls aside. “Sit here, we’ll run a test first.”

Your heartbeat picked up. A test? Would it hurt? You approached his desk anyway and nervously sat atop it, making sure to sit facing toward him. His proximity made your face heat up and he sat and observed you closely. His eyes looked you up and down, and at the height you were atop his desk you were able to make direct eye contact without looking up at him. He placed his hands at your hips and leaned forward. His breath fanned your lips as your skin began to flush. “Are you willing?”

“Yes,” you whispered, enchanted by his voice and proximity. “I’ll do anything.”

“Then let’s begin the test,” was his only warning before his large hands gripped your hips and his mouth pressed to yours. His lips were cold, so very cold, and the same could be said for his hands. His low temperature permeated the silk of the robe and made your skin prickle. You wanted to try to warm him up.

Anxiety rushed through you as you felt his cold tongue press against your lips. What did that mean? You had never kissed anyone before, but his cold touch made your body heat up. Without much thought you wrapped your arms around his neck and unconsciously pulled him in closer. His tongue pressed harder against your lips and it forced your them to part. So cold, an appendage that was typically warm was practically an ice block in your mouth and you shivered.

He groaned as he pulled back, you were out of breath, an embarrassment unlike any other filling your chest. Did he pull away because you were bad? Did you fail the test? Were you not enough? You almost whimpered at the thought, your body continued to shiver.

“Are you,” he seemed to shiver too. “Are you still untouched?”

Heat rose, you could feel it span your entire face and the top of your chest as you nodded in embarrassment. “Yes,” you whispered, nervous. “Is that going to be an issue?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice having taken on a deeper tone. “Are you cold?”

“You seem colder than me, your skin is ice.”

He smirked a bit and moved back before standing. “Stay there, I’ll be back shortly.”

Tobirama hadn’t lied, he had come back rather quickly, but with a black flask in hand. He sat back down easily and handed you the container gently. “Drink all of this and then we can continue.” Your body thrummed at the idea of continuing, so you did your best to chug whatever it was in the flask. It was viscous, and if you could see the color you knew it would be the same as the strange fluid the priests made you drink before the ceremony. Immediately your body warmed, and you shook from the contrast in temperatures. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice made your toes curl. “Now lean back and sit still.”

You did as you were told and almost gasped as you watched his deft fingers begin to untie the sash for the robe. “Wait, I’m not—”

“This is a part of the test,” he began. His cold fingers pressed against the naked flesh of your abdomen as he pushed the robe open. You felt hypersensitive, that light touch alone was almost enough to make you moan. “Stay still, and quiet, and then we can move on to the real ritual.”

“S-So, am I enough?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he lightly caressed his hands up the sides of your form and stopped at your breasts. His cold temperature in contrast with your warmer one caused your nipples to harden; you pressed your thighs together as you watched his pupils dilate at the sight of your naked breasts. The light-haired man’s fingers twitched, and he ran them lightly along your breasts toward your pebbled flesh. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and a whine attempted to leave your throat. He paused, his eyes looking back at your face before landing on his forgotten calligraphy brush. “We’ll have to see how this works out won’t we? Little mortal, spread your legs for me so we can begin.”

You swallowed the noise that had threatened to leave your throat as you nodded. You opened your legs slowly, embarrassed by your nakedness and the obvious wetness that had begun to spill from you. If you could’ve, you would’ve brought your hands down immediately to cover yourself, but that would be disobedient. There was an unnerving feeling of obligation, both to stay obedient to him as your god and to hear him praise you more. The tip of his brush hit your collarbone and swirled down toward your chest, and you jumped at the sensation. He clicked his tongue, “Behave, little girl. Stay still and quiet.”

 The brush followed back up the trail, leaving black ink along in its wake. The water god brought the brush back down a similar path, but this time he brought it all the way down to your nipple. You wanted to cry out, the tickling sensation circling against your hardened peak went straight to your core and you could feel your clit twitch. He continued to circle it, over and over, your breathing picked up. Surely that was allowed, right? Tobirama brought the tip of the brush down from there and trailed it along the underside of your breast down to your lower belly.

Unintentionally, your stomach flinched at the cold brush. He clicked his tongue again and brought his sharp eyes up to your face. “I’m sorry, my Lord I didn’t—” he shushed you, cutting your apology short.

“Remember to be quiet,” he told you, his other hand creeping up to your mouth. None too gently, he placed his index and middle finger into your waiting lips and his jaw tightened as you began to suckle on them instinctively. “There’s an obedient sacrifice.” You whimpered at his words, and he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth, back toward your throat. “Do my words affect you that much?”

His eyes trailed down to the heated area between your legs and he tsked again, his tone sounded smug. “You’re so wet, from what? A kiss and some light caresses? Are you so innocent that even this little is too much?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, you could feel your clit twitch under his gaze, he let out a breathless chuckle. The brush began to move along your lower belly, right above your womb he swirled the ink in a cyclical pattern. Once satisfied, he trailed it back upward toward your neglected breast and paid extra attention to the nipple once again. By that point you couldn’t help it, you sucked on his fingers as hard as you could, but a whimper still left you. Tobirama kept up his swirling, you were so sensitive, your lower body unconsciously pushed forward as you felt your clit throb hard. “Mmm!”

It felt weird, you had never felt anything like that before. Your entire body twitched, and your toes curled, you felt a rush of wetness start to leak onto his desk. The building in your lower belly had relaxed but your sensitivity only increased as he continued to tease your nipple with his brush. When you opened your eyes again there was a definitive redness to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his eyes were entirely focused on your throbbing sex and his breath was noticeably labored.

“So disobedient.” The feeling in your chest tightened, your high cut short. You disappointed him? His voice had kept its husky tone. The brush left your body entirely and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “You couldn’t keep still or quiet,” he began to trail the brush down your abdomen once more, a swirling pattern that laid right over your womb once more and used your heightened sensitivity against you. Your sex ached, virginal channel twitching in anticipation of something you knew little about. “Those who misbehave must receive punishment.”

The brush trailed down further; the ink covered bristles marking your pelvis before drawing over your mound. “I’ll give you one more chance to behave. If you remain quiet and still, I’ll let you cum again,” his sharp red eyes, pupils all but swallowing the irises, stared into the depths of yours. You nodded your assent, and he kept the eye contact as the brush moved to your folds.

He watched you like a hawk, looking for every minute twitch and flinch, as he began to circle your labia before moving the brush toward your dripping flesh. It was incredibly difficult not to whine as the brush head grazed over your weeping entrance. Tobirama’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he started his assault on your neglected bud. You bit your bottom lip to keep from whining, the pressure was too light. The water god’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to read your mind and pressed the brush harder, moving it up and down in a lapping like motion.

You wanted to close your eyes but his own were too intense, too enticing, you couldn’t look away. “You’re trying so hard to please me,” he taunted, a tight smirk on his perfect lips. “Can you feel it? Every time I speak to you, your hole twitches.” He brought the brush down to circle your clenching entrance to emphasize his point. “Does my voice make you ache?”

A whimper almost escaped you.

“So wet and warm,” he turned the brush over and began to prod at you with the rounded end. “Little girl, this lewd thing,” his cold hands cupped your sex and you let out a quiet groan, your eyes moving skyward. “Such a salacious reaction is unbecoming of a virgin.”

The water god removed his palm and brush and brought them up to his face. “Look here,” he commanded, and you obeyed. His palm glistened with your slick and the calligraphy brush was soaked through, your fluids mixed with the black ink and dripped down his cleaner palm. “You’ve ruined my favorite brush, and my palm is soaked despite barely making contact. So obscene,” he brought his palm to his mouth and lapped at his palm, a visible shiver rattling him at the taste of you. His red eyes remained focused on your own as he cleaned his palm. “What is a god to do with a sacrifice like you?”

You were at your wits end; you couldn’t sit still or remain quiet anymore. It was too much, you were sweating from both heat and effort, your sex throbbed and ached unlike anything you’d ever felt before, your breasts were tender and felt heavy under the knowledge that he could be holding them instead. Even your fingers itched to hold onto him somehow, to tear away at his arrogance and get at the flesh beneath that cloth. A whine that felt closer to a sob bubbled in your chest and threatened to escape your lips.

“You did very well that time,” the god told you, almost affectionately. “Shall I reward you now?”

“Yes,” you cried, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please, my lord, I can’t—”

“Enough,” he hushed you. The white-haired man stood and placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and the other approached your heated sex again. You unconsciously pushed your hips forward towards his hand and he allowed his palm to make contact again. This time, however, he pressed the heel of his palm against your aching bud and ground down on it. “Cry out to your heart’s content.”

A loud moan escaped you and you threw your head back. Your reached forward and grabbed at his thick wrist to hold his palm in place as you sloppily rode it. Using his hand on the small of your back, he brought you closer to him and pressed his cold lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy, you were fueled purely on instinct. He seemed unbothered by your lack of experience, and he used his tongue and lips to guide yours. When you were right at the precipice from your rough grinding he pulled his palm back and swallowed your cries of protest.

Tobirama did not leave you waiting for long, his cold fingers returned, and he prodded one at your entrance. You were so wet that he penetrated you easily. It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs, you pulled away from the kiss to gasp as your body tried to register the foreign feeling. He pushed his finger in deeper and you felt your walls squeeze around it. “Nngh,” you groaned. The cold of his finger contrasted so starkly with the heat of your insides. He began to pump his finger, in and out, and the friction felt so good. “Mmm.”

“You’re gripping my finger so tightly,” he pressed a kiss to your exposed collarbone. “Spread your legs more, I’ll be adding another finger shortly.”

You nodded dumbly, your mind and body reeling from the pace he had set. His thumb reached up to circle your clit as he added a second finger. You were thankful for it, as the second finger made the stretch a bit more uncomfortable, but you were able to experience the same amount of pleasure thanks to his thumb. The noises that came from your body were sloppy and wet. The faster he went the more your juices sloshed and dripped, the louder your moans became. “Such filthy sounds you’re making. So depraved, like a whore.”

“N-No,” you whimpered. “I’m not—”

“Your pretty hole would beg to differ. Now that it’s felt my touch, its begging for more. Shall I add another finger?”

The tip of his ring finger began to press inside, and you shuddered, almost drooling. It felt like too much, you had never had anything or anyone inside of you before. His third, thick and equally cold, finger slid inside and the stretch burned. You grunted, feeling like you’d been punched in the gut and the water god began to scissor your insides. “This is all in preparation for the sacrificial ritual.”

“Ritual,” you panted.

This isn’t the ritual?

He hum in concentration, his digits began to thrust in and out, then stretch, then in and out again at a brutal pace. Tobirama removed the hand that had been holding the small of your back and used it to undo his robe’s sash. The silken material slid open easily and with that same free hand he began to palm at the oversized tent in his trousers. You almost balked as he began to pull his clothing down to reveal the agitated flesh, he groaned loudly at being free of the confines.

Tobirama was long, exceedingly long, and generously thick with a purpled tip leaking with copious amounts of precum. He was so hard, and you almost burst when you realized that you were the reason he was throbbing. Your eyes were entranced as he began to pump himself slowly, your hips bucking to meet his fingers with more vigor. His thumb flicked your clit and all you could think about was trying to fit that beast inside of you. “Lord Tobirama,” you cried out. “I feel nnn- weird. S-Something’s coming!”

“Then cum, clench around my fingers and cry out for me.”

“Mmm, my lord,” you whined pathetically, your eyes squeezed shut and you bit into your bottom lip. He kept pumping you with his fingers, his thumb baring down on your clit with almost a painful amount of pressure. His continued work heightened your orgasm and elongated it. Soon his fingers, his thumb in particular, became too much and you began to squirm in overstimulation.

“The ritual,” he grunted, the sounds of his hand working his cock melding with the sounds of your wet sex. “Mortal worship is what gives us strength. And what greater form of praise is there than sex.”

“Please, your fingers, it’s too much,” more whining, you sounded a bit hoarse, but your body couldn’t take much more.

“So, we are yet to be finished.” The water god finally stilled his fingers and removed them with a loud shlop sound.

You nodded, eyes soaking in and memorizing the image of a partially clothed water god, pumping his rigid manhood with his hand that had just been removed from your body. His cheeks were tinged pink, his ears had a dusting of the same shade, his intimidating and crisp appearance disheveled because of you. Slowly you slid off from his desk, your bum hitting the cold floor roughly. He watched you, his haughty demeanor returning as you sat on your knees before him.

He stopped pumping and angled his erection toward your closed lips. Tentatively, you licked it. You had no idea what you were doing but you wanted to please, to worship him as he said. “Good girl,” Tobirama praised as he placed his hand, the one wet with his own precum, in your hair and pulled you flush against his aching need. “Open your mouth.”

Almost as soon as you opened your mouth, he placed his throbbing tip inside. You wrapped your lips around it and closed your eyes. How was even this part of him so cold? He pushed his hips forward and you had to open your jaw further to fit him. The taste of him was tangier than you expected, but that also could’ve been the taste of your lingering juices. He moved his fist, at the base of his shaft, together with your slight head bobs.

The sounds he made were divine; low grunts and moans, a rumbling in his chest when you scraped him with your teeth, his labored breathing grew louder and louder with each passing movement. Your jaw ached but you loved the feeling of his throbbing flesh in your mouth. The longer you sucked the more of him you tried to swallow. Eventually he reached so far back that he hit the back of your throat. Tears were welling in your eyes at the effort and saliva leaked from all parts of your mouth. You began to grunt and whine along with him, fresh arousal dripped from you onto the floor.

With one final thrust of your head to his pelvis, he throbbed and groaned loudly as he spurt cold spend down your throat. You wanted to taste it, but your tongue had already numbed from the temperature of his cock. He removed himself slowly, a small trail of semen and throat mucus following behind. When he was fully out of your mouth you rubbed your throat. It felt abused but in a way you never expected to enjoy, you happily swallowed the gunk that remained on your tongue and didn’t need to be told to lick him clean. He was still rock hard and you pressed your thighs together at the sight.

He reached down and helped you to your feet. Tobirama fully removed his robe and you pushed off the one that had loosely remained on your arms. The god adjusted his trousers and you frowned in confusion as he tucked himself away again. He still removed his tight shirt, revealing a haven of well sculpted flesh to your greedy eyes, which gave you pause. “We will continue in the altar room.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know where that is?”

You nodded.

“Then go, I will meet you there. I have something else to prepare.”

Again, you nodded, throat still sore, and began to walk toward your second favorite place to be. During your walk there you had begun to feel cold, and you wondered if it was because of the cum you swallowed. You could almost feel it as it sat in your belly like ice and froze your core, but you couldn’t help the tingle of need that pulsed at your entrance at the thought. You wrapped your arms around your middle to conserve heat.

You waded through the pool as you went to sit on the altar to wait for him. As horny as you still were, you were thankful for the reprieve. It allowed your overtaxed body a break and your lust addled mind some clarity. Though with the clarity came the anxiety of being deflowered by the same flesh that had deliciously tortured your throat. A shiver crawled up your spine, both from the cold and at the thought of how ruined you would be afterward. Tobirama was going to split you in half, he’d probably reach well into your guts if he bottomed out inside of you.

The water god appeared in the hallway; he was still shirtless with two flasks in his large hands. One flask looked the same as the one from before, black, but the other had a dual blue and purple hue that attracted your attention. You stared at the flex of his muscles as he walked, his hair looked like he had run his hands through it a few times, but he approached you with purpose. His feet glided over the water like it had when you first saw him. He narrowed his eyes at your hunched form. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and muttered, “Just cold.”

He handed you the black flask again and you began to drink it before he told you to. The fluid slid down your throat like slime, but it warmed its way down and seemed to overtake the cold that had seeped its way through you. The mixture of the viscous drink and Tobirama’s essence seemed to unsettle your stomach a bit but it wasn’t anything to worry about. Those sharp red eyes watched you carefully as he leaned in closer. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you still willing?” That question surprised you. Would you have been sitting there still naked if you weren’t? Or even drank more of that strange fluid? You appreciated the sentiment though.

“Of course.”

“Good, then move over for a moment.”

“Whah?” He nudged you aside before he sat himself down in the center of the altar. The pale god sat and began to slide his trousers down just enough to expose his half-hard member and the swollen balls below it. Tobirama opened the blue and purple flask before beckoning you to straddle him. You were up on your knees with your hands clutching his shoulders. It was a position you had not been expecting, though you weren’t really aware of what positions where normally used in this sort of situation.

The white-haired man leaned forward and began to lap at your neck, both hands moving to cup your cold breasts. He pressed them together before rolling and squeezing them. You moaned softly when his cold thumbs began to rub your nipples. His lapping turned into opened mouth kisses as he made his way down your unpainted collarbone and to your breast, where he had conveniently, rubbed the ink off of your skin. That cold appendage left a wet trail from the top of your left breast to the underside before he enveloped a nipple and vigorously sucked. A higher pitched moan escaped you and you tightened your grip on his shoulders.

Before he switched to the right breast, he poured some of the liquid from the blue and purple flask into his hand and rubbed the fluid against your sex. He nipped at the pebbled bud in his mouth and smeared the fluid into your soft tissue thoroughly. With a breathy groan you bucked into his hand. The water god poured more into his palm and made sure to coat his fingers before pushing them into you. You leaned back on your haunches a bit, giving him better access to your insides, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that the fluid was warming up the more he worked it in.

“Mmm,” you bit your lip and glanced at his cock. It had risen back to hardness and your inner walls clenched at the thought.

Tobirama chuckled breathlessly, “That eager to be stuffed full of me, hm?”

He removed his fingers from your entrance, and you whined. His cock visibly throbbed at the sound. The water god poured more of the fluid into his hand and began to rub it along his member. The substance was also a bit viscous but lighter in color than the one you’d been drinking. “Get back into the previous position, little girl. I’m about to split you open.”

Swallowing nervously, you straddled him again, and your grip on his shoulders had your knuckles turning white. With his none lubricated hand placed on your hip, and his other keeping his length in position, he began to slowly bring your down onto him. The blunt tip felt good as he rubbed it against your entrance and clit, it had relaxed you enough for you to try to sink down on it.

The tip felt impossibly wide as it popped inside. “Relax, if you tense up it’ll make things more difficult.”

Relax, you told yourself. Easier said than done. You closed your eyes and sunk down further. The stretch burned and you bit your bottom lip. Only when you pressed down a little more did Tobirama let out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Good girl.”

The praise made you want to try harder, so you took more of him in at once than you should’ve. It knocked the wind out of you, his blunt head hit against the spongey part in your walls that made your toes curl. He panted and removed his hand, no longer needing it to hold himself in place, instead he placed it on your other hip to try to ease your burden. Your hands shook, it was painful but pleasurable all at once, the feeling was almost too much. “Halfway there.”

Only halfway? You whined again as you tried to take in more of him; the whine only grew in volume as he rubbed against the most sensitive parts of your inner walls. His eyes were narrowed in on where your bodies connected, the sharp red was filled with undeniable desire as he watched your being swallow him. “Look at how well you’re taking me.”

“Lord Tobirama,” you groaned as you sunk down further. Your entire body flinched when he hit against a part of you that felt wrong. “Nn, I can’t take in anymore.”

“You were being such a good girl. There’s no need to worry, only a bit more to go.”

“I can’t. I—” you cut yourself off as you attempted to do as asked but felt that same intensity. You shook your head. Before you had fully adjusted to the fullness, Tobirama began to raise you up and down along his length. It felt like heaven and hell in one place. Every time his blunt head hit against that spot it tried to push a little harder against it. Your legs trembled, your brain too pleasure fogged to try and ride him. When he started to thrust up as he brought you down, you swore.

“You don’t ever want me to leave this hole do you? You’re sucking me in, trying to take me in deeper despite saying that you couldn’t. But look,” he grunted with exertion, and you felt a telltale pop as he pushed past the barrier. It hurt, it felt wonderful, it was too much. Your body began to spasm and your vision blurred. The highest pitched noise you’d ever made escaped your lungs and you clawed at his back, leaning forward against his chest to try to gain some relief from the feeling. Tobirama shivered against you.

His grip on your hips was bruising as he continued to bring you up and down, sinking deeper then he ever should’ve. You were a mess, tears welled in the corners of your eyes and you felt stupid. All you could do was moan and whine like a bitch in heat. “If I cum inside we’ll be tied forever, do you want that?”

You nodded, the pressure in your lower belly about to burst. 

“I’ll sow my seed inside you,” he panted, his thrusts and pulls increasing in speed. You bounced up and down on his lap at an erratic pace. Tobirama continued to ramble. “You’ll take every last drop. The thought of you with milk swollen breasts and a round belly is enough to drive me insane. You’re my precious little broodmare. Fuck!” His curse was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, one that smashed your clit down onto his pelvic bone and caused you to reach your peak. You felt a rush of fluid leave you and you whimpered as oversensitivity set in almost immediately.

“Such a good—” he thrust two more times and gasped as he reached his own end. There was a distinctive rush of cold as he came inside you. It felt like a lot. You bit your bottom lip and pressed your forehead into his shoulder as he relaxed his grip on your hips. The two of you remained like that for a while, basking in the post orgasm bliss. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead gently.

Exhaustion began to swallow your form but before you could completely give in he spun you around to face the throne. He remained inside of you, his member twitching and spunk leaking from you and dripping down his sack. You whimpered when he leaned your back against his chest and angled your body so that you could watch your combined fluids run down his darkened flesh. “We’re not finished,” he supplied before he gripped your hips once more with just as much force.

Tobirama bounced you like you weighed nothing, the new angle giving you a clear view of the indentation he was making inside of you. You placed your hands over it and felt him practically pulse both inside and in your hands. Your mouth dropped open. As he worked you open, again and again, more of his cold sperm fell out of your center and stained his skin and the marbled stone. “Look at what you’re wasting,” he grunted, one of his hands crept down to tease your oversensitive nub and cause you to flinch with every motion of his fingers. “I’ll have to use something to plug you when we’re done. You don’t want to waste anymore, do you?”

Drool began to drip down the sides of your open mouth as you threw your head back against his shoulder, your hands rubbed against your own skin as they pressed back against him. It made you feel him harder; it made him rub you more. Your entire being felt like it would explode, your brain too stimulated to comprehend his question. “Ffffn,” you felt like your brain had gone numb. “Haaa, ahn.”

“Hm?” He brought his hand away from your abused nub and up to grip your chin. The water god turned your face toward him and his slick covered thumb swept across your exposed tongue and abused lips. “Have I fucked you stupid?”

He pressed his thumb down on your tongue so that you couldn’t speak. You tasted the mixture of his and your own cum on his precious thumb and you felt that same gush of fluid leave you. Your entire being thrummed, your heart felt like it might explode, you wanted to thrash and to move away from him to lessen the intensity, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong and all you could do was cry and whimper as you came again almost immediately after from his continued thrusts and blunt cock head against the very back of your womb. “My dumb little sacrifice,” he groaned. “A perfect little child maker. Spray me one more time, worship me with you entire being.”

His fingers left your mouth and he readjusted you to bend forward in his lap. The tears that had formed began to stream down your face as you shook your head. How could you explode again? Your essence had already sprung from you like a fountain; you couldn’t possibly do it again. Tobirama held you in place by your wrists, keeping you bent over and facing away. Noises you had never made before fell from your throat and squelched from your sex. You heard him grunt in effort and felt the weight of his sack hit against your angry clit once before you convulsed and sprayed again. “Mmm, good girl.”

You felt his cold semen as it burst inside of you once more. It collected in your womb like a pool and furthered your convulsions. He brought you back to his lap and rubbed your aching arms as you continued to shake, and he continued to cum inside of you. Despite the copious amounts of sweat and other fluids caked to both your skin and his all you could feel was the weight of his sperm inside of you and the cold it gave off. “Very good girl,” he muttered against your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

After an unknown amount of time you finally stopped whimpering and shaking, and your tears seemed to dry up. You were parched and sore but you managed to place your hands against the arms that held you once you felt a bit more grounded. You cleared your throat in attempts to get your mind off of the cold that permeated through you and the nervousness that his still rigid member, which remained in your depths, brought forth. “Did that give you enough power to save the village?” Your voice was so hoarse, so overused and abused, but the worst part was the obvious exhaustion.

The effort it took to stay awake to wait for his answer became too great and your eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. Your brain, exceedingly thankful for the much-needed break, turned off almost instantly and you slumped completely in his arms. The rumble of his chest as he began to answer was all you were able to register before total exhaustion embraced you.

“Little mortal,” he began. “There is much more worship to be had.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @skydaddy01 @justmyownreality @hashira-mal @sneetsnoot @ladyyanna @ttipsyy @hi-my-name-is-korg @silvermadara

Hashirama||Madara

Season 2

#gods and mortals au #tribute to the gods au #naruto series #mortyvongola2 0 sacrificed series #mortyvongola2 fic #mortyvongola2 fanfic #naruto fanfiction #tobirama senju #tobirama simp #tobirama smut #tobirama #Tobirama Senju smut #fic art #god Tobirama #tobirailme #tobirama x reader #tobirama x y/n #reader insert #tobirama x you

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Savory Kiss

(Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader)

A/N: I hope you enjoy... And should I keep doing this? I've been on tumblr but I never really post, mostly reblogging lol

Summary: A lot of things happened last night, but a shared drunken kiss between you and Spencer had your mind panicking.

WARNING: bit of an overdramatic reader (but tbh I think it's a normal reaction), cursing, just fluff x

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"Shit."

You sat up on your bed, a hand smacking your forehead following suit. You could feel the heat that rushed to your cheeks, a shade of red tinting your skin. You woke up from a dream, a nightmare. Oh, who were you kidding? It wasn't any of those. It was an actual event that happened barely twelve hours ago.

"Oh my god," the hand on your forehead pushed the loose strands of hair up. "I kissed Spencer." You continued to whisper under your breath as your fingers softly grazed your lips.

It wasn't just a kiss. You made out with him. Hands in his soft, curly hair. Your body pressed against his. And your lungs were out of air.

You slammed your back on the mattress, wiggling around as if you were having a seizure. "This can't be happening!" You rolled over. Your blanket wrapping around your body. Your hands smacked your face in hopes that you were just dreaming.

How ever would you face Spencer? Face your co-worker? Your teammate? If you weren't such a liquor fanatic last night, you wouldn't be in this situation.

The sound of your alarm startled you, reading 7 in the morning. You dragged yourself out of bed, dreadfully preparing yourself for work.

Your travel to the Bureau office took ten minutes at the most, and you could walk it for thirty minutes, but today you wanted someone to do God's will and crash their car to yours on your way to work.

With a to-go cup of coffee in hand and a scowl in your throat, you pushed the glass door open when you reached the Behavioral Analysis Unit floor.

Emily was the first to greet you, "I drank more than you did. How are you looking like a storm just passed you?" She chuckled, sipping in her second dose of coffee.

Your eyes blew wide, and you dragged her to the side. "I'm going to kill myself." You started in a whisper.

"Jesus, Y/N. I know I did it once, but I don't go around giving advice on how to do it." Emily looked up and shrugged. "Okay, yeah. I do tell people how to fake their death, but it's too early."

You shook your head, "No! I did something stupid."

She grinned, "How stupid are we talking about?"

"Stupid, as in kissing Spencer!" You hissed, looking around to ensure he was nowhere near you two.

"Oh," Emily rolled her eyes. "Kiss? More like ate his face."

"Oh, my, god," you couldn't believe what you had just heard, making you ask the obvious. "You saw?"

Emily bobbed her head sheepishly, blowing on her coffee in a satisfying manner. "I didn't just see. I watched it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, you psycho." You growled, pushing her shoulder lightly.

"Why are you even freaking out? You've been crushing on boy genius for months now. You finally got to taste his minty fresh breath you've been daydreaming about." She snorted.

You glared at her. How could she be entertained by your dilemma? And you sighed at the question. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't.

"I know I talk about jumping on Spencer and ravishing him like a wild animal all the time, but—" You ignored Emily's widened eyes and subtle cough to stop you from talking. "—I at least want to do that when I'm sober and not in a drunken fashion."

The sound of metal crashing on the sink made you shut your mouth. You wanted to further sew it shut when you heard a soft 'sorry' behind you, immediately recognizing the owner of the voice.

You closed your eyes agonizingly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Please, kill me now." You begged Emily.

She raised her hand in defense, "I made an oath not to use my gun for leisure."

You took a deep breath and turned to face Spencer with a crooked smile, "Hey."

"Uh," Spencer's ears were red, holding the spoon that he dropped tightly. "Right, yeah. Hey!" His voice hitched, and Emily's snort didn't pass your ears.

"I'm gonna leave you two some privacy," Emily made eye contact with you. "Call me when you're about to make out again." She taunted and dashed away before you could even smack her shoulder.

You smiled and sighed. Nothing else could make things worst than this. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that." You held your hands together, anxiety coursing through your veins.

Spencer looked away, feeling his face combust under your gaze.

Everybody knew how brave you were. Despite facing serial killers, you kept stable eye contact. Even Hotch sometimes felt nervous whenever you held his gaze as he lectured you.

For Spencer, it was your charm and also the death of him. You wanted to do what to him? His mind was spinning. He kept it to himself, maybe with Derek, who caught him staring at you once, but he tried his best to hide his attraction to you.

From the moment you made a joke of kissing Emily because shaking hands weren't a thing from where you came from to last night, where you stared at him straight in the eye and ordered him to kiss you, he was whipped, and he knew it.

He didn't know what to do, and frankly, he was more concerned about you hearing his heartbeat than your statement regarding him. "No, no. I should be the one apologizing. I should've not eavesdropped on your conversation."

A bright laugh escaped you, "Spence, we were talking in the break area. It's everyone's space. Besides, I wasn't being silent either." The nickname rolled out of your tongue beautifully, and you liked it. You loved how the elongated end gathered suspense, whether you would say his name entirely or leave it at that.

Spencer gripped his mug at the usage of his nickname, by you, of all people. "Right." He swallowed the air in his throat, forming a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay, then." You tapped your lap offbeat, clearing your throat. "I'll see you around." You bid farewell and marched to your desk.

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Spencer hated elevators. It suffocated him, more so that you were with him, silently humming to yourself as you fought the anxiety boiling in your stomach.

You didn't avoid Spencer, at least not directly. A smile here and there when you bumped into each other and even managed to converse about one of your last cases without melting into a puddle on the linoleum floor.

But you did, however, would twist your ankles 180 degrees when you saw Spencer approaching, only when he hadn't noticed you yet. Just like earlier, after you returned from lunch with Penelope, Spencer was on his way out to take his break with Emily and Derek, scrambling to hook his messenger bag on his shoulder. You ran to catch up to Penelope, asking her if she could teach you some basic codes.

And the time arrived, when you turned around after getting in the elevator and Spencer slipped his scrawny body through the closing door. You couldn't turn anywhere, so you smiled and put on your brave face.

"Done for the day?" As if it wasn't evident by how you two clutched the straps of your bags.

"Yeah," he bit the bottom of his lip, glancing at you from his peripheral. Your words were clear to his head. They were loud and enunciated by the way you hissed every word to Emily.

Silence engulfed the two of you for the rest of the ride down to the parking garage. Spencer gestured for you to get out first, to which you replied with a small 'thanks' and a soft nod.

You turned in his direction. You found Spencer barely stepping off the elevator as if he had waited for you to take no less than twenty steps before he started to move. "Have a great evening, Spence." You couldn't let your own embarrassment affect your friendship with Spencer. Not when you were bound to see him the next day and the next, and until you were welcome to the bureau.

He halted, clutching his bag. "You too." He muttered, almost inaudible for you to hear if it wasn't for the acoustic of the parking lot.

His eyes were distant, and you knew that you may not have wholly ruined your friendship, but you most likely made a mess out of it. So you left him with a nod and continued to walk to your car.

You hadn't moved more than two steps when Spencer spoke, "Do you regret it?"

You paused, your brows furrowing. Your body swirled at the weight of his vague question. "What?"

"Do you regret kissing me?" He asked, taking a massive gulp of nothing.

"No!" You shouted an exaggerated reaction to a simple question, inviting blood to travel to your face. "No, I don't." You reiterated, a lot calmer this time.

"Are you sure? You don't have to lie. I get it. I'm not really the best kisser—"

"No! No! Spence, no!" You didn't even realize that you were walking towards him until you stood half foot away.

Guilt spread throughout your veins for making him think for a second or more that you regretted kissing him. Sure your mind was hazy at the memory of his lips on yours, but it didn't mean you didn't like it.

"No, really, Y/N. It's okay." He reassured you, a longing stare glossing over his hazel eyes.

"The only thing I regret about our kiss was the fact that I wasn't sober." You admitted, willing yourself not to run and dip as you held his gaze.

There you go again. Keeping him a prisoner of your gaze even if it was clear to both of you that you were on the verge of wanting to jump off a bridge.

A subtle smile was slowly forming on his lips. Still, because of your panic and eyes glued to his, you didn't notice it, rambling to explain how bad you felt for making him feel insecure about the way he kissed.

"I just," you sighed. "I just hoped I could remember how good it felt to make out with you, but because I was drunk, I only remember what happened but not how it felt. And it sucks. It sucks—"

He grabbed your face, and your breathing stopped. Spencer kissed you with eagerness and passion. He has been holding himself back the whole day. You had no idea how much he wanted to greet you with a soft kiss when he had the chance to steal you away from Emily this morning. Still, your slight panic got to his head, making him wonder if it was alcohol that made you want to kiss him.

You didn't know when it happened, but your arms were now snaked around his neck, fingers tangled with his curly hair. You were hooked. And finally, it reminded you how amazing it felt to kiss Dr. Spencer Reid.

You both pulled away, gasping for air, grinning from ear to ear. Your chest rose and down, your fingers feeling numb and tingly from the euphoric kiss he left lingering on your lips.

"You remember now?" Spencer asked with a shit-eating grin that he couldn't seem to wipe off his face.

You crossed your arms, index finger tapping your chin as you hummed. "I don't know... You see, I don't have a great memory like yours." You kidded, mirroring his expression.

Spencer rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but you pulled his tie towards you to get your lips locked once again. You felt how he had difficulty placing his hands on your body, settling to hug you close to him.

The two of you giggled like teenagers, pecking each other's lips for more but too breathless to continue.

"See? Y/N doesn't just kiss. She eats your whole face."

The two of you looked toward the elevator, finding Emily, Derek, and JJ.

Derek and JJ tittered at the joke, but most of their smiles were a form of congratulations for the both of you.

You rolled your eyes at Emily, "When I like something, I savor it." You threw a suggestive wink at Spencer, earning a bright red glow from his face.

#spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x self insert #fanfic #criminal minds #criminalminds #criminal minds fanfiction #reid #doctor reid #cm #fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid

[starlightsearches]

As soon as I saw your Cherry Pie/Eddie tags I RAN over here to beg you to PLEASE write something for it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pour Some Sugar On Me

hey bestie!! can't find the original post that inspired this because tumblr's search feature is literally evil. I think the original post was about pour some sugar on me, but I kept it ambiguous. this got very carried away from me, and i'm sorry for the wait. i hope you enjoy!!

✨ requests open for my 2k celebration ✨

Eddie Munson x Stripper! Reader

Warnings: NSFW-ish, language, smoking and drinking, no mentions of s4 plot, Eddie is inexperienced and awkward, stripping, lap dance kind of (it's mostly just grinding), i do not know how 80s strip clubs worked, and i think that's it! let me know if I missed anything 💖 comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🥰

Eddie snaps his fingers against his driver's license, letting the plastic thwack it makes fill the deserted parking lot. He's looking at the birth date printed right below his goofy-ass picture, the numbers 1967 dark on the front.

Unlike most of the IDs he's had in the past, this one is real. And his.

An honest-to-god twenty one year old, although he's never felt more like a kid. Eddie smiles humorlessly, slipping the card inside his wallet.

Happy birthday to me.

He leans his shoulders back against the rough brick with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, watching the neon sign at the edge of the parking lot flash blue, then yellow, then white against the cracked pavement and the weeds that grow there. The building itself isn't that special—just a brick box without windows—but the sign caught his eye, driving around the back roads of whatever fucking town he's in.

He was hoping to find a bar, maybe drink his first legal beer before crashing on the mattress in the back of his van. Then he saw the sign.

Heaven's Door. Gentleman's club.

No gentleman have gone inside, as far as Eddie can tell—just drunk truckers with deeply lined faces stumbling in and out every hour or so, and some locals who must visit often enough that the bouncer doesn't even ask for an ID.

Fucking stupid. He rolls his eyes at nothing, taking the keys from his back pocket with shaking hands.

His grips not good enough, fingers all clumsy with anticipation and fear. Eddie flushes red, embarrassed like he's got an audience as the keys hit the concrete with a metal jangle, cursing himself under his breath. Before he can reach for them, they're swallowed up in a triangle of yellow light.

There's a crack in the door beside him when he turns to look, the one he had assumed was an emergency exit. There's no sign of an emergency inside—no screaming or gunshots or thick, roiling flames. Just a pretty girl with wide eyes and a jacket about a million times too big hanging all the way down to her thighs.

It's been a while since Eddie's seen a girl, besides the nice old ladies at the diners he goes to for every meal. He could charm any of them without breaking a sweat, have them fawning over his easy manners and cheeky smiles. Sometimes he even got free dessert out of it.

He wishes he could find some of that fucking charm now.

"Oh."

Eddie's got nothing to say in response, making heavy and prolonged eye contact with your bare knees through the lines of your criss-crossy tights.

He snatches his keys from the pavement and stands, running a hand through his hair, but his fingers get caught in the tangles. Maybe Eddie should just cut his loses and run, but his feet won't carry him anywhere.

"Oh,"—his hands aim for his pockets and miss, leaving him arms hanging at his sides all lanky and awkward— "Uh, hi."

There's this journey you're going through—Eddie can see every mile of it on your face. You look at him with hesitant eyes, taking in the sneakers and the jeans and the frizzy hair and, he's sure, his deer-in-the-headlights stare.

The outcome to your mental math must work out in his favor, because you smile at him.

"Hi,"—your smile doesn't go anywhere, just bleeds into your voice until your words are all tinged honey-sweet—"are you waiting for someone?"

Eddie knows he's kind of dumb, but he gets what you mean. You gotta be able to tell that he's not that kind of guy—the kind that girls tease and flirt with and, you know, wanna fuck. Especially not girls like you. He wonders if you can see it written on his face, if the freak label followed him all these miles from Hawkins just to hover over his head, blinking like that fucking neon sign.

Eddie's also wondering if you came out here looking for a guy who was supposed to be waiting for you. And then he swallows down his jealousy like bile.

"What? Oh. No, I just—"

You let the door fall shut behind you, cutting off the light like you've cut off the end of his sentence. You just look up at him through your lashes, reading all his thoughts like they're printed across his skin.

It's been a long time since Eddie's seen a girl. It's got him feeling all kinds of strange.

He watches your steady fingers as they reach inside one of the jacket pockets and pull out a pack of Marlboro Reds, and you watch him. Eyes a little sharp and curious, traveling his features as you slip one of the cigarettes from inside, placing it between your lips. He takes another from the pack when you offer it, hoping you won't notice he's trembling.

“So," you mumble the word around the end of your cigarette, holding the end over your lighter's flame. You let your shoulder blades fall back against the brick, stripping him naked with that same stare, "if you’re not a perv, and you’re not waiting for somebody, what’re you doing back here?”

Your fingers brush against his palm when you pass him the lighter. It's just skin against skin, but that's not the way it feels traveling across his palm and up his wrist, giving him some kind of jittery contact high.

The first words that come to mind are the ones that tumble from his mouth.

"Who says I'm not a perv?"

He lets his head fall back against the brick, just hard enough to set in an ache. Jesus, Munson, get better jokes.

You roll your eyes at him, unphased. "Please. I can spot a perv—occupational hazard."

You wave a hand at the building behind you, and then give him this look. A look that says you can't hide from me, so why even try?

Maybe that's what has him reaching for his wallet, sliding his license from the little clear pocket. Feeling like you've already seen past any front he could put up, so he might as well show you the rest of him.

Or maybe he's just really, really lonely.

You take the ID when Eddie holds it out for you. He lets the little plastic square fall out of his line of sight, staring down the gravel by his shoes, digging the toe against the asphalt.

It's quiet in the parking lot, just chirping crickets occasionally interrupted by a muffled beat whenever the main door opens around the corner, and your soft breathing when you nudge his shoulder with your own.

"No shit. Is this real?"

Eddie nods, letting some smoke out of his nose. The cigarette's relaxed him, or maybe it's just that he's given you something else to look at, something to take the heat of your eyes off him.

Your thumb pets over his picture, gentle, like you're afraid it might smudge. "Edward, huh?"

He flushes. "Eddie."

"Eddie," you repeat. He hopes you'll say it again. He's starting to feel the night air through his jacket, but he thinks he could stay out here all night if you just kept saying his name.

He's still soaking in the glow of it when you gasp.

"Wait a second,"—you put your hand on his arm, denting the leather with your grip—"oh my god is it-?"

Fuck. He didn't think you'd notice. "Oh, yeah. I guess it is."

Eddie's gonna tell you that it's not a big deal. Tell you he's gotta get up early and so it's time he heads home—without mentioning that his home is the back of a van and the only thing he has to wake up for is another day of driving until his tank runs out.

But you're already tugging him around the corner.

"Oh my god, you have to have a drink with me!"

"Uh, I don't think-" but Eddie follows you anyways, even though he protests, taking little stuttering steps all the to the door.

"Hey Sal," —you're talking to the bouncer, passing his license over with your free hand—"my friend Eddie's looking for a drink."

Sal's bigger and burlier than he ever looked from Eddie's vantage point around the corner, but he smiles at you sweetly from behind his big, bushy beard.

"Having a good night, honey?"

Eddie swears you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "I think I'm about to."

Sal glances at Eddie's ID and passes it back without any comment, just an amused look on his face. Eddie feels like telling him I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know what I could have done to end up here.

The more he looks at the bouncer, the more he feels familiar, just a little. He kind of looks like Uncle Wayne, with the little lines at the corners of his eyes.

He can almost hear his uncle's voice, saying who cares how you got here, son? Enjoy what you can while it lasts.

And he never really thought he'd live to see his twenty first birthday.

You've still got his hand in yours when you brush past the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway, rattling pleasantly behind him when you drag him through.

It's not as bad as it could be. You'd think a small-town strip club would be sleazy, or run down, but Eddie doesn't feel any of that. It's intimate with the lights low and the thump of the music from the speakers. Men sit around at circular tables, watching the girls dance and drinking beers, the glass bottles shining with condensation.

Eddie barely notices the girls though. Your hand is soft against his own, warm, and he's afraid you might notice how sweaty his palm is.

You deposit him at one of the stools in front of the high bar, letting the bartender know to treat him right until you're back. He's already sipping from his second beer when you're back at his side.

"Hey there, birthday boy."

He's feeling the drink already, and the atmosphere, and the anticipation of you and your smiles, so he'd like to say something funny—finally feeling like he could get you back for all the teasing you'd done back in the parking lot. Then he gets a good look at you.

"Je-sus Christ."

He almost chokes, hand pressed to his chest like you're gonna give him a heart attack, because that's how he feels. Looking the way you do—tits barely covered by thin, barely-there fabric, and those little criss-crossy stockings stop mid-thigh, topped with little bows.

And everything else—besides the little triangle between your hips that he doesn't even dare look at—is bare skin.

"You okay?"

You're laughing at him again, but he doesn't mind as much this time because your tits are jiggling, and he's staring and you don't say a word about it.

"I'm fine," he manages, "you just surprised me, sweetheart."

That's gotta be the alcohol talking. He wishes it would shut up.

Until you slide in closer, arm brushing against his now that he's slipped out of his jacket, trailing goose bumps over his skin when you fiddle with the chains at his wrist.

"So, birthday boy,"—you glance at him through your lashes—"you wanna dance?"

Fuck yeah, he does. But Eddie's trying to play it cool, trying not to ruin something he shouldn't even had a chance at. The words to unlock that door aren't coming to him, though.

You're more worried about rejection than you've let on. You drop his gaze, sliding your fingers from his skin.

"Or I could get one of my friends to do it, if that's what you're looking for."

You're talking about the girls on stage, gyrating to the music while they're showered with dollar bills. He's hardly looked at them. Too busy waiting for you to come back.

"No," he's shouting a little bit, before he manages to get a hold of himself, "no, definitely not. I—uh—yeah. Let's- let's go."

You take his hand, guiding him over to a more private area and pushing him into a seat.

Eddie lands with a little huff. It's too bad he let all his air out just then, because there's no way for him to breathe when you pet your hands over his shoulders, hovering just out of range of his lap.

"Any requests for a song?"

You slip in the tape he asks for. He's met with gritty vocals and a flood of guitar, the blood rushing through him laced with adrenaline. He'd heard the song on the radio a few months ago, at a second-hand store somewhere in Kansas. It had taken him a few days and a handful if miles before he found a copy of the album for himself.

And there were a lot of songs he liked, but this was the one he'd worn the tape down for. This was the one he played when he was feeling a different kind of lonely, the kind he'd never get used to. He'd lay on the mattress in the back just right to avoid the squeaky springs, the rough scrape of denim over his thighs.

All those nights, he realizes, he was picturing somebody who looked a lot like you.

He feels your weight in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. So solid against him because you're not a dream this time around.

You cut right to the chase, grinding down against his crotch and his whole body jolts at the contact. It's not like Eddie's masturbation habits were that healthy before, but all the alone time he has now definitely didn't fix that. Plus, he doesn't have to worry anybody hearing him parked on the side of some highway.

So he lets out a noise at the feeling, and it's louder than it should be—a guttural grunt he can't catch behind his teeth.

"Sensitive?" you whisper, right up against his ear. You've collected his stringy curls in one hand, lifting them up off his neck and tugging just a little. His breaths are coming out sharp, but he manages an answer.

"Yeah," he mumbles, cheeks flushed, his chest hot and tingling where he can feel the press of your tits, "guess I am."

You lean back, just enough he can see you smiling at him. "Don't worry, honey. I like that."

Your hips move sinuously against him in time with the music, just watching him with wide eyes and wet, parted lips.

"F-fuck, that feels good."

Eddie's eyes roll back, his neck barely able to support his head with the way the rest of him has tensed, thighs and core tight because he really doesn't wanna cum in his fucking jeans right now.

"Yeah?" you ask, leaning in close to his taut neck, hot breath caught in the little drips of sweat on his skin.

You scratch your hand down his shoulder, take hold of his middle finger before dropping it against your bare thigh.

"You can touch me, Eddie."

He's pretty sure that's not allowed, at least from what he's heard. But nobody's rushing to stop him when he grips your thighs hard enough to dent them. Eddie's starting to think that this isn't an average lap dance.

You flip around quick enough he can't miss the feel of you too much, your ass pillowy against his cock, stiff in his jeans. But the real excitement is in your hands, guiding his up over your torso, collecting body shimmer as he goes, rings snagging on the fabric. You stop him right over your perfect tits.

"Holy shit."

He tries to whisper to himself, but you're right there, laying your head back on his shoulder, biting at your lip while he massages at your breasts.

He wonders if he's doing this right, until he can hear your soft, little moans in his ear. And that's better than any fucking song in his collection.

The music is gone. He's not sure how long ago you noticed, but you haven't pulled away from him yet—still bumping your hips against his just to feel him twitch.

Eddie clears his throat before he speaks. He feels like his voice is gonna break.

"I don't- I've got cash in my car," he says. It's not enough for what he got, but he'd give it to you anyway.

"Don't worry about it. It's on me."

His hands slip down from your tits, resting at your waist instead. Eddie doesn't want to stop touching you, but he's gotta take care of the situation in his jeans ASAP.

You've gotta feel his urgency, because you're still moving against him, long, slow strokes of your hips that would barely be noticeable if he weren't ten seconds away from bursting.

"You know, my shift ends in like, twenty minutes."

Eddie's not sure what to do with that information. He can't imagine you mean what he thinks you mean.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you whisper, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. "I was just thinking, maybe when I'm done, we could go back to mine? Your birthday's not over yet."

You pet a finger over his zipper, tongue peeking out from between your lips. Even the way you blink is sexy.

Eddie's practically tripping over his words he's so eager.

"I'll wait for you out back."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #my writing #requests #late night posting is the only way i get things done apparently

[buckyismybicycle]

I don't know how terrible this quality will be on Tumblr, but the higher resolution/original can be found on AO3!

Title: swim for the music that saves you Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Tags: ShrinkyClinks, Social Media AU, WIP/teaser Summary: It all started when he sent a video singing Happy Birthday to his sister, not knowing that she would post it on her social media.

Now, JBuckyBarnes has millions of followers all hearing his story, following his recovery, listening to him sing. Little does he know, he's going to change the life of one follower in particular.

Steve Rogers, chronically ill and spending most of his days inside, has to live vicariously through others. He longs for adventure, trying new things, feeling the sun on his face. A/N: This fic has been sitting in my drafts for some time now... Thanks to @buckybarnesevents: Alternate June-iverse giving me a little kick, I've decided to post an excerpt/the beginning and the rest of it will come in due course.

“Hiya folks… Well, it was, uh.” The brunette on screen pauses and then smiles sadly. “Alright, you know I can’t lie to you. I wanna say it was fine and dandy, but it was honestly rough. That’s why this video’s a bit late, sorry ‘bout that, by the way. It took longer than I thought it would to edit so I honestly kind of gave up.”

He lays his head in a propped up hand, resting against his piano. 

“So, I got home Sunday afternoon and crashed. I don’t even remember getting into bed. Didn’t sleep through the night, of course. I never do. But! That’s just me, my body’s not a fan of the meds. I was feeling crummy — you know when you’re so hungry you’re nauseous but you can’t eat ‘cause you’re nauseous? Anyway, so that for like, six hours. Finally got to sleep when the sun was risin’ but only managed about an hour or so. You lot haven’t heard Brooklyn traffic.”

Steve can’t help but smirk at that because he has, and he is in fact listening to the god-awful Brooklyn traffic outside his window. He could always move his desk away from the window, but he needs some sort of sunlight from time to time.

The YouTube video plays on his phone while he takes a break from work, stretching and wincing as his joints crack.

“So, it’s like, ten in the mornin’ and I decide I’m gonna get something to eat. Nausea won that round, unfortunately, so by three o'clock I am starving. I was cranky for the whole day, and I don’t wanna make cranky videos for you guys. So, that’s enough rambling from me. My brain’s been a little all over the place so I haven’t written anything in ages, but how about a cover of the best of the best? Thanks for sticking around! Hope you like this one.”

Steve watches as Bucky lifts the cover of his piano and stretches the fingers on his prosthetic. Today, it’s the metal titanium one, with its beautiful plate work and a small Hydra Industries logo on the forearm. 

You gotta swim… Swim for your life

Swim for the music that saves you

When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim… Swim when it hurts

The whole world is watching

You haven't come this far to fall off the earth

The currents will pull you, away from your love

Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn

Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun

Cracking the armor, yeah

I swim for brighter days, despite of the absence of sun

Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in, I swim

You gotta swim… through nights that won't end

Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers and friends

Steve listens to the beautiful voice fill the empty space of his studio apartment, caught up in the soft yet powerful melody. What really hits him are the words, though. 

Bucky’s life is no secret — except maybe his real first name because there’s no parent on this planet that hates their kid that much. Steve doesn’t know exactly how Bucky had started off, but the channel was a newer discovery for Steve. 

Well, there it is. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! Hope you liked the song, and maybe I’ll see you guys next time with something original, huh? Bye!” 

#connect4AU #alternate juneiverse #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #and moodboard I suppose #bucky barnes fanfiction

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

A little Ian x Reader fic based on my tumblr beloved @threadsun's Ian's dad au

Reader is amab and is referred to as daddy

You can't believe you're doing this. You've always liked Ian but you can't tell how much of this night is being pushed along by your heart and how much Jean's strings are pulling you by the dick. Either way there's no backing out now, not when Ian looks so beautiful underneath you, his gaze hazy and fuck drunk from a simple heated make out session. Though, how simple could you really call it when both of you are straining against your pants

You can't help but stare at his bulge, christ, your friend was hung this whole fuckin time? "I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't, I-I mean I liked it, fuck I loved it, but we don't have to, you don't have to-hha!" Your hand gently grazes his thigh as you ask him what he wants "I...you, I-I want you, please, please fuck me, I'll be-be good just please, I need your cock" You can't help the little shock you feel as you hear him, with how clumsy he usually is with his words you never expected him to be so good at begging

He's so desperate for your dick, how could you ever say no? You help him out of his clothes and he helps you with yours before grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand. You can't help but smile, leaving his bitch mom really has been good for him, even the sight of a lube container would have made the Ian you knew in high school faint. You slowly work him up to two fingers, scissoring them to open him up just a little further, making sure to try and hit his prostate with every thrust

He's so cute like this, bucking his ass down on your fingers, trying to push you even deeper "Fuck~ Please, more daddy" Ian freezes as soon as it slips out, eyes wide and already filling with tears at his mistake "Sorry, oh god I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I-" He's cut off by you replacing your fingers with the head of your cock brushing against him. You tell him not to worry, telling him that if he's going to call you that he might as well scream it

Ian nods frantically, his hips already bucking down to try and force you to take him "Yes, yes I will, I'll be your good little whore, please, fuck me daddy!" You just can't help it, you slam into him, making him take your whole length at once. It was too much for him, Ian lets out a beautiful scream as he cums all over your stomachs. After a second he whimpers "Why-why'd you stop?" You ask him if he want you to continue, the question seems to surprise him "I...yes, yes I want to. I want daddy's cum, please"

Your first time together is desperate, and passionate, and filled with love. After helping him wash up you both snuggle back into bed, his head resting softly against your chest. You look up from him to the door of his bedroom and you feel your heart crash down into your stomach. You see Jean peering in through the crack of the door, holding a single finger to his lips as he smiles at you. And in that moment you both know what this means, you can't leave either of them now, and Jean has won

#Ian's dad au #sdj Ian #sdj Jean

[nettlewildfairy]

Tumblr made that big long post and a lot of people are angry reacting to some like surprisingly reasonable suggestions that solve widespread long time  complaints

i dont know how they plan to solve everything just yet but as someone who knows some things about the industry and jargon here are my 2 cents

Here is a link to the referenced post

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr

in an age where most social media sites are making it aesoteric and difficult to share posts offsite /app tumblr is considering making it easier to do

yall do you know how hard it is to link a long tumblr post with like a comic or funny string of replies to share with my friends who arent on tumblr? i have to take like 15 screenshots every time. IF staff is priorizing making it easier to share posts that would be so much better oh my god 2 High quality content on launch.  the pessamistic assumption is that this could mean a mandatory algorithm but if you read carefully you’ll notice they never fully say thats even remotely what they are going to do. This seems to be a suggestion that the default new user experience will change. 

If you like me made an account 10 years ago this looks like it won’t affect your experience whatsoever. 

but like trying to sort through tags to find blogs and curate my own feed actively took like over a year to get to a place where i’m happy when i did it in 2011/2012

if feeds and tags Worked that would be good. the for you page and exploration features on tumblr do, admittedly suck right now. there SHould be easier ways to find and search for stuff on tumblr. if their search worked better and finding stuff you wanted to see was easier that Would improve the experience for most people on this site.  3. facilitate easier user participation in conversations folks if replys could be threaded in some way it would be 1000 times easeir to have convos with them. like i do not get what people are upset about here. like a person shouldn’t have to reblog their own post 15 times in a row to reply to different people about the same thing. they could make this so much better.  4. Retain and grow our creator base

 it IS hard for art to see and get seen. if i had a nickle for every time i saw a post begging people to reblog art i’d have like so many nickles.  I would like to see more art. and ttrpg creators. there’s like stuff i have to go to twitter for and its small time ttrpg, art, writing, and literary magazines because even when those folks are on tumblr its extraordinarily difficult to find them with the systems currently in place.

 like i don’t know that tumblr has a good plan to make this kind of thing easier but if they did figure it out it would rule. and its good to know that this is a priority for the company 5.  Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr

throttling notifications rules. i have commented on tumblr staff posts dozens of times for like 5+ years asking for this, thank GOD. if you reblog a lot of posts you get a lot of notes even if you have like 15 people regularly interacting with your stuff on 100 posts a day thats like 1500 notifications. it collapses some by post or interaction type but that is NOT enough and the notification bar always says 99+ unless i checked it less than a minute ago, im dying please make notifications meaningful and not overwhelming. 

6: Performance, stability and quality

this is generic and means very little obviously anyone making an app wants it to crash less often.  bonus: ive seen people get upset at the implication that they are instituting a mandatory algorithm but the site has had an option algorithm for like ages, it doesn't imply its mandatory anywhere or that they're taking away our option to turn it off. there are already artist showcase things on the dash on the regular, if you have adblock on you can’t see some of those, but they've had them for fully years. 

its highly unlikely that they would get rid of one of the main selling points of tumblr.com they’re like a real company thats done bare minimum market research, like folks no one other than musk would do something that boneheaded

[jiffygis]

[SILHOUETTE] John Doe X Reader. Chapter 3

No notes for this chapter, other than a reminder that in wattpad (CassTea) as well as in AO3 (GisLikesTea) this fanfic is already in chapter 6. It's a bit hard for me to post in Tumblr, so if you it's wanna read more of this you know where you can find more :)

With many unread messages and 14 missed voice calls that invaded your phone for a whole hour, unnoticed because you were stuck with that weird looking dude in the subway, you were now standing in front of your manager in the gas station. You certainly didn't have anything against her, but she wasn't exactly friendly sometimes. It didn't seem to be personal tho. She was a tired mother of 5 little pieces of hell, you understood her bad mood sometimes.

She was staring at you, as if you had just stolen all her money and her dog.

Behind her, still behind the cashier was Lydia, your coworker. She had a weird look in her eyes, a mix from "I understand" and "I hope you literally collapse right here right now".

- I'm just hearing right now this isn't your first time arriving late - your manager directed her head towards you.

- Yes, miss I'm sorry it's just that sometimes I- - I'm not the one you should be apologizing to - she said in a mad voice tone. She continued, - I understand that we're not all absolutely perfect but your co-workers are not responsible for whatever you do. Have you ever stopped to think about the stuff they have to do?? That they're also busy?- she said. You just looked down, maybe you had thought about that, but in the end you didn't do anything to change your behaviour.

- Lydia - your manager started to talk yet again - called me because she just didn't know what to do! (Y/N) you didn't reply to any messages, you didn't respond to any calls- just look at your phone! Look at it, I want you to tell me how many calls you got - she said pointing at your phone, you slowly lifted it up and unlocked the screen. -...fourteen- you slowly spoke. She just stared at you for a small moment, then sighed and took her hand up to her face, covering her eyes and letting out a tired sigh. Everyone stood quiet, she was thinking and you and Lydia just didn't know what to say. - and you didn't just arrive 30 minutes late, you got here 2 and a half hours late...- she said, more to herself than towards you but you did understood the gravity of the situation you had gotten yourself into. You wished you could say it wasn't your fault... This time. That you were stuck in the subway for God knows how long with this creepy and weird dude but... The whole situation just dictated you fell asleep and was having a hyperealistic dream, after all the whole ordeal was impossible.

After a while, she spoke again - sorry, (Y/N) but...- your heart started racing and your eyes tearing up. You knew what she was gonna say, but you needed to stop her. You couldn't loose this job, you truly couldn't afford it right now. Her words were coming out faster that your thoughts tho, -This isn't your first incident and I need to protect the time of all of my employers, so I need to let you...-  you were about to speak, to beg her to stop and assure her this would be the last time, that this would never happen again, but a certain someone jumped faster to your aid than you. Before she could finish, a loud crash came from the fridges, as if many glass bottles had fallen to the ground and made a huge mess. You jumped at the sudden sound because of how tense you were at the current situation.

Before anyone could even process what had just happened, you heard a high pitched voice... one that was way too familiar, exclaiming in pain. Immediately the three of you headed towards the source of the loud sound.

Standing there was a tall, almost lanky figure with long, really long hair. You knew him, you knew who he was... But your brain couldn't point it out, right now he was just a complete stranger to you, one that you knew from up close.

He was looking down at the mess... Smiling. His smile relaxed a bit when he turned to look at you, almost as if a kid was trying to hide a bad thing they did. This all happened in less than a second, but you saw it all clearly. Your manager and Lydia, however, did not notice the mischievous smile and instead were met with a surprised almost scared look and a surprise exclamation, which then turned into a pained one.

His hand was bleeding, it seems while trying to catch the bottles in order for them not to break, one of them broke in his hand.

- Sir! Are you ok?! - said your manager, quickly turning her body from yours and running to aid the man. He didn't say a word tho, and instead backed away from her, with an almost mad look. - you should really check on your stuff, ma'm. As soon as I opened the door it all came crashing down!! - he said. She started to apologize, something you didn't saw often but this time the client was actually hurt, she didn't want to catch a case. - I'm sorry sir, do you need an ambulance?? -, well that was too much - it's just a cut, not too deep or wide - he said, pissed off. She just nodded and agreed with him, then turned towards you and Lydia, - Lydia! Please come clean this up. (Y/N), bring the first aid kit! - she ordered both of you. You moved fast, approaching him and carefully taking his hand to check on it. He was right, it wasn't too wide but it was quite deep.

- This way - you said pulling him towards the bathroom. It was small but not extremely, it was enough.

You closed the toilet seat and sat him down over it. He was holding his hand up, close to his chest like a hurt puppy who was scared to hurt himself even more.

Moving some of his extremely long and tangled hair out of the way, you took his hand yet again; this time with a cloth soaked in hydrogen peroxide.

-This thing hurts less than alcohol, but it still will sting a bit so stay still- you pointed out.

The man in front of you seemed almost amused, rather than scared or in pain, in fact he was smiling and as soon as he turned to look up at you his smile widened, showing his teeth; you smiled back, a bit unsure tho. His attitude had completely changed from how he was defensive and mad out there towards your manager, and how he was looking at you like he didn't have a worry in the world. But it wasn't your job to psychoanalyse him, you just had to heal his wound, so you started doing that.

-ow- he said after you put the cloth over his wound. It didn't sound like a normal pained "ouch!", It sounded more like he said it just out of habit, he didn't even flinch.

First, you cleaned up the blood, which was quite a lot by now but nothing serious; it's like when you get a small cut but blood doesn't stop coming out. Afterwards you sprayed some microdacyn and cleaned up some more blood.

While bandaging his wound, you spoke, -This is to stop the bleeding and close the wound so that it doesn't get any bacteria. I don't have the resources right now but when you get home, if you have onions, take a thin layer of onion skin and put it over your wound, put a bandage over the onion and it's gonna help heal faster. Remember that you need to clean it up and change the bandages so that bacteria doesn't accumulate.- you sounded like a doctor, but you knew some tips here and there.

You turned to look at the man, your stomach churned when you met his eyes completely focused, engrossed by your figure as if he was seeing money fall from the sky.

You knew him, you could say that with certainty. If someone asked you about him you would say that, in fact, he was no stranger to you, but if they asked who he was or where you met your mind would be completely blank and you wouldn't be able to put together a solid answer, not even a half assed one.

A phrase that made your skin crawl, however, soon came out of his mouth, -Don't you remember me?- he said , -You looked so scared in the subway... do you like being scared?-. As much as you would've loved to run out of there, you stayed. -...uhm, sometimes? I think it depends.- his eyes sparkled for a second, amused, almost happy to hear that, -on what?- he asked, - I think on the situation? And the person- you answered. Before he could reply you opened the door, smiling at him; you just wanted to get out of there. You said, as loud as you could so that everyone in that store could hear you, -We're done! Don't worry about the bottles, you don't need to do anything about it-.

He stood up, looking confused but not surprised. Without a word, he left the bathroom.

You quickly went to look at your manager, earlier today she was the last person you wanted to see but right now you were begging to be as close to her as possible.

When you walked towards the fridges, however, you were surprised.

There was no one there, neither your manager or Lydia. There weren't any bottles in the floor, in fact they were all neatly placed in the fridge, almost as if nothing had happened.

-wh... how? They were just... they were right here- you said, both confused and scared.

-Are you ok?- that familiar voice asked.

-No! They... you saw them, didn't you? You saw they were here, they were right here cleaning up the mess-, the man did nothing but tilt his head with a confused smile. -Sorry, but who?-, "you have to be fucking around" we're the thoughts that started to float in your mind. You quickly turned on your phone to call Lydia but... there were no missed calls from today, not a single message from her. How was this possible? What was going on?

You sent her a text,

Y - Hey, where are you?

L - ???

Y - I just finished healing that guy, but I can't see you or Petra anywhere! Did you finish cleaning up?

L - wait did Petra show up today? ;0;

Y - ... you literally called her to come to the store

L - dude are you ok? Are you high again? Don't tell me you are

L - I thought you were over that

L - you cant show up to work like that, you'll get in trouble

L - I literally left work almost three hours ago now :P

You placed down the phone, trying to process what was happening.

After a couple minutes, you replied.

Y - you're right. Sorry, I fell asleep and mixed my dream with reality.

L - you should sleep more :/

You quickly went to search for that guy, he was roaming around, looking at the products. But he had the wound right there! You literally cleaned it and bandaged it not too long ago... then... it had to have happened, right? You arrived late and you were just in the process of getting fired when he showed up...

Slowly approaching, you were thinking carefully what to say.

- thank you- came out of your mouth.

-for what?- he asked

-... hey, I never got your name-

He fully turned his body towards you, almost as if he was waiting for this moment his whole life.

-You can just call me John Doe, or Doe if your prefer-

- It's good to finally know your name, Doe-

#fanfic #horror games #john doe #john doe game #john doe x you #john doe x reader

[a-moment-captured]

so let’s be whores for urb. i’ve written this 3 times cause tumblr keeps crashing so gonna try and remember.

i’d suck the soul out of that man. blow him and make him cum, keep going till he’s hard again and repeat.

so the mv and the recent photos got me so fucking 😮‍💨 for this man. that shot on bedroomfits rlly got me prepared to do anything and everything for that man. good god. his shirt is so fucking tight, seeing his chest and his arms, whew.

so like first that shot of his hand got me. whew. imagining his fingers in u and they stretch u out so good.

cause also bro is so cocky and i’m confident he’s also hung as fuck. has to stretch you out on his fingers every time cause he’s so thick and long. also leaks precum all the time cause he’s just so turned on by u constantly.

have a feeling that when ur fucking when u pull his hair for the first time it would totally catch him so off guard, he’d cum for sure, cause, pain kink 😌

also think consensually he would be a sadist (like when playing. dom/sub or bdsm type)

bro is def into spanking, would spank you so hard all the time. (he loves it, and so do u) constantly has his handprints on ur asscheeks cause it turns him on so bad hearing you moan in pain and having his marks on u. his hands are so big when he does spank u it covers ur entire asscheek.

on the same note i think he would love tying you up for the power trip (always consensually!) cause he has a size kink (along with u) and loves overpowering you and holding you down since he’s so much bigger then u. you love that he can hold you completely down with just one arm. and just. whew. think he’d probably edge you too cause you can’t touch.

think he has a breeding kink just like jack, (also believe they’ve talked about it together lmao) he’d wear a condom after u first get together but after a bit he just said he couldn’t fucking stand it, it ok to go without, and you wanted to feel him so bad (every vein and ridge, and also the warmth when he cums in u) so you said yes ofc. he’d just be in complete bliss from how good it feels. can hardly take it. probably would cum twice cause he just feels so good with ur pussy gripping, squeezing and throbbing around him so fucking tight. and now he loves hearing u beg for his cum, one of his fav things to hear. (also u love feelin him throb when he’s about to cum.)

he’s possessive when playing, wants to claim u as his, wants u to tell him again and again that ur his, he’s repeating “you’re mine, all fucking mine, no one else can have you. mine.” (this also goes along with the breeding kink cause filling u up is just another way he claims u as his.)

also think he’s rlly vocal, never is trying to be but you just feel so fucking good around him he can’t fucking help it.

yet another thought is that he loves getting lapdances, feeling u grinding and dancing on him while wearing the tightest, smallest, sexiest lingerie. having to restrain himself until at least the song is over if he can’t wait until ur done (but usually can’t do it, can’t handle it, and ends up ripping ur set off)

anyway i read somewhere yesterday how jack would be the type to continue to fuck u while someone popped their head in to have a convo and how he just wouldn’t care if his friends came in he’d just keep going (@19crimes maybe???) and i do fully with my entire being believe that urb is the same way. strikes me as a horny ass motherfucker.

finally thinking about shotgunning with him makes me drip. like so bad. it’s so fucking intimate and so hot and after you blow the smoke out even if the blunt isn’t done he just has to give u the nastiest sloppiest kiss because he just can’t take it. it makes him so fucking hard.

anyway i’m rlly rlly rlly horny and a complete and total whore for that man, he’s so fucking sexy, i strongly believe he’s a kinky ass motherfucker, and i’d literally do anything for him, and i have lots and lots and lots of thoughts.

thank u for accepting my essay i hope you enjoy. — 💋

(i’ve also tried to submit this like 4 times and it keeps crashing so fingers crossed!)

🚨Ladies and gentlemen🚨

Can we please give anon a round of applause for reminding us why we are all horny sluts for Urban?!

Babe, I tried to prepare myself but nothing prepared for that! Now I’m gonna be thinking about Urban and his fingers all damn day.

And the bedroom fit?! Speechless…

I thought I was ready but I wasn’t! Anon, anytime you want to send in something about Urban, I’ll be your biggest cheerleader!

#urban Wyatt #jack harlow

[talenlee]

Rewriting In Your Voice

Rewriting In Your Voice

Writing is a challenge. It takes a blank page and then it involves scrawling onto it whatever words you want to put there. It’s been addressed in a lot of different ways. One of my favourite ways to describe it is that the act of writing is a violent one; where violence is the curtailing of options through force, a writer takes a blank page of infinite possibility and reduces it down to just one. Another way to see writing described is as a form of agony; one merely stares at a blank page until your forehead starts bleeding, the line goes. I don’t think these descriptions are necessarily trying to describe a particular kind of pain, but it’s a sentiment that I think is easy to reflect. Fanfiction tumblr, I’ve seen in particular, is filled with people who wish to murmur of the dreadful agonies that come from a want to write and a lack of ability, time, focus, concentration or will to do so.

To those people, I will suggest that you can also, if you want, not write.

I mean it’s okay.

Hell, have you considered a micropodcast? Grab a microphone and just tell a recording ‘I want to tell a story that’s about this and this and this,’ and just see where that process takes you. Be okay with making a little, or only concepting a little. The making is the fun part, you’re not getting graded on your fanfiction here.

Nonetheless, much writing is made about writing and I think that’s good. Turns out that writers, in general, are always looking for things to write about, and writing about writing can often come easily. It’s also a chance to show off how the thing we choose to do is actually quite hard and I didn’t spend an hour today fine tuning a tree farm in Minecraft, I was actually letting the ideas and words turn in my head while I tried not to cry.

I try to avoid writing about writing unless I’m going to give some clear and concrete advice. In this case, it is the way that I would like to offer advice that was first, terribly, presented to me as write drunk, edit sober.

I don’t drink so that’s meaningless, of course. I don’t do anything drunk, and I imagine if I tried to write drunk it would look very bad considering that my primary way to write is based around fine motor control I’ve spent oh god so long refining. The idea, however, seems to be built around the notion that one should have one mindset for the creation of writing, and then another mindset for improving and refining that thing. It’s a vision of a very real experience I have, where the creation of a thing can be rough and unreliable and loose in words and meaning because I’m trying to get the core things out and in the right space. Editing, going back over what I wrote and checking if things should be another way or if they should be in a different order, that should be done with some time and distance from the original writing.

Particularly awkward is when you write a sentence, then come back to it a few days later, and read it aloud, and realise you have no idea where in the sentence there’s meant to be an emphasis. There’s this idea of garden path sentences where a phrase may be structured in a way that fools you into momentarily thinking the sentence is spoken one way instead of another. You might also see them called crash blossoms.

This is something that stands out to me in this blog because I write in a style that I think of as oratory. I know that when I read some phrases aloud, that there is an escalation, a dudgeon that I bring to bear in the way I write. It’s why, I think, I am comfortable with the writing of Tycho from Penny Arcade in a way that my peers often aren’t. There is a cadence, a musicality to the way he writes, that begs to be spoken aloud.

Therefore, my first piece of advice, for when you return to your work, is to read it aloud.

I will now give those of you who write porny gay fanfiction an opportunity to uncringe.

It’s true though! What you are writing is trying to be encoded in the mind of another. Reading it aloud will show you when your own writing trips you up, when your writing slows down, when you have the ability to convey dialogue in pauses rather than in statements, and if you necessarily are setting the right tone with the description of that text.

Dialogue in fanfiction is amazing because, chances are, you like the characters because of dialogue. Dialogue is how characters express a lot of who they are, in how much of it there is and how little of it there is. It is spoken aloud, in many cases, by actors, and read into audiobooks. There is nothing weird or wrong about speaking the voices of those characters aloud and seeing how their words settle in your brain afterwards.

It is embarrassing, not gunna tell you otherwise. Waiting until your roommates are out of the room so you can read back and forth to yourself about the way two Gundam Kissboys engage with one another and see if it ‘feels right’ in your head? That’s pretty challenging. It can make the writing even more private, because now you need a way to see if the characters that resonate in you resonate with the world outside your head, and also you need to do it in the garage so nobody hears you describing how they fuck.

But also, doing so can highlight things to you. It can bring to your attention mistakes. You might notice that when you read it aloud, you don’t need to include three statements about a person putting their hand on a table, because it’s on the table, and the dialogue itself bridges to the next piece of dialogue. You can find your own foibles and you can make them better. And also, you can use that voice to just map out scenes vaguely, and see how they feel.

I am lucky in that I have an audience that wants to hear me read my articles aloud, and that can help me catch mistakes or realise when I have a problem in the text. If you can find people on a discord call or in a friend group who want to do this for you, or are willing to do it for you, and yes I know you may be talking about gay sex fanfiction here but the point stands, then you should thank them and trust them and see what it can do to help improve the way you write.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Making

[succubusxsupreme]

That Which Is Forbidden

Authors note: this is my first time writing on Tumblr so I beg of you, be gentle with me. Aemond is forbidden fruit and I am Eve. Im team Black of course but I simply cannot resist! Anyway no minors! Angst, degradation, choking, ect, ect. It’s quite spicy. No minors.

Concept: the Dornish Princess and our beloved Prince play hide and seek.

———————————————————————————

You’d slipped away from the dinner hall just moments ago, exhausted by the stuffiness of polite conversation and feigned interest in titles and duties. Ever since you stepped foot on the shores of Kings Landing there was a role you were expected to play and by the damned gods you’d played it. Acting the part of the dutiful daughter and respectful lady, doing your best to represent Dorne and your house in the highest light that you could stand, until you absolutely couldn’t stand it any longer.

This place was strange, it’s customs alien and archaic. The women here were worthy only of pity, their dress so restricting and uncomfortable, their backs stiff and heads down. The men thought much too highly of themselves and undeservingly so. Even the architecture lacked much to be desired, you thought to yourself as you wandered down the halls.

You pretended to play your part a bit longer though, as you went deeper into the keep. An innocent glance out of the corner of your eye let you know he was still in pursuit. The slightest glint of his silver locks caught your eye as you rounded a corner up head.

With no knowledge of where you were going you allowed your pursuer to guide you a bit. As he changed you course you’d double back and follow in his steps until he somehow ended up back behind you, always forcing you deeper into the depths of the keep. Fewer and fewer people were present as you continued your game of cat and mouse. Less light as well as you could only assume you were moving into a far less populated area. The darkness began to thicken around you. A slight pang of fear shot through you, giving you cause for pause.

“Why do you stop Princess?,” your pursuer inquired from somewhere in the darkness, “are you afraid?”

A smile curled across your plump lips. “Are you someone I should fear my lord?,” you asked slyly as you continued on into the depths, feeling your way now along the wall beside you.

His presence was so very hard to ignore, heavy and crushing. As a wave crashing onto the shore it washed over you and like dark Dornish wine it was intoxicating and aromatic. His scent was primal, and there could be no doubting your desire. But he desired you too. All of that energy was focused so heavily on you, the gaze of his one eye penetrating your very being. It was this very desire, this same scent and primordial longing that pushed you further into the depths of darkness, anticipation bubbling just beneath the surface.

Aemond chuckled deeply. “If you knew what I had planned for you Princess you’d have much cause to fear me.”

You slowed to a methodical creep now, not wanting to risk a misstep here in the dark. You felt your heart rate quickening and your breath hitching.

“Oh I do have an idea,” you started.

“And and idea is all it is,” Aemond shot back.

You rounded yet another corner, your fingers grasping the edges of the cold brick for guidance.

“Enlighten me then Aemond, what don’t I know?”

You glanced around, still your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness, but you knew you had lost him. Doubling back you ran back down the way you’d just come, your only fear now was losing him.

“The ways in which I would defile you Princess. The ways in which I would make you scream,” he replied. He sounded closer now, too close even.

You ran now further along wanting to put a bit of distance between the two of you. This game of cat and mouse was much too fun to end now.

“Oh you men are the same everywhere aren’t you?,” you teased, “you do sound so sure of yourself my Prince.”

“You sound as if you need convincing,” he said, sounding much closer now than you expected.

“Not with words though my lord but actions,” you challenged, “I know the histories. You Targaryen’s…”

Before the words could escape your lips Aemond was upon you, his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, snuffing them out before they could form.

“I know the histories, I am a learned man Princess,” he whispered into your ear, “allow me to be the first Targaryen to bend a Dornishman, to break one,” he said through gritted teeth as he slammed your head against the solid brick wall.

“Allow me to be the first of my name and house to have one bow before me,” he said lustily. Aemond ran his tongue along the cuff of your ear and nipped the lobe.

A deep moan slipped past your lips as your closed your eyes. You reached up to caress the hand wrapped firmly around the soft flesh of your throat. His hands were calloused no doubt from the relentless training with sword and shield.

“What my lord, would I receive in return,” you whispered breathlessly, the growing heat within your core sending you spiraling.

Aemond’s lips met yours deeply and fully. “Pleasure beyond measure,” he replied as he leaned more deeply into you.

“Mmmm,” you moaned.

“Is that what you desire?,” he asked as his hands explored the curvature of your hips. The silk you flounced around the keep in clung to you beautifully, even now in the darkness it emitted an otherworldly glow, beckoning to Aemond, begging to be removed.

“I’ll tell you what it is that I desire,” he said as he freed your breasts from their silken prison. You cried out as he bent to take a nipple into his mouth.

“I’ve desired to know if you wear small clothes beneath this dress, this strip of cloth,” he mused as he ripped the remainder of the dress from your writhing form.

His hands wandered greedily over your exposed flesh, your thighs parted slightly to allow his fingers access to your more sacred parts. His digits slid between your plump lips, sliding around eagerly in your silken juices. The hand around your throat loosened now as he turned you around so that our back was to his chest. His free hand found a nipple and pinched. Completely enraptured you melted into him, giving into his whims.

“Tell me more my lord, tell me of the plans you had for me,” you begged as you hooked your arm around his neck and arched your behind into his crotch.

He pushed back into you letting you feel the fullness of his erection, the thickness and the hunger it exuded.

“From the moment you received us at the docks, I’ve desired to have you,” you confessed, “and to be had by you.”

You reached behind you to undo his pants and free him from the restrictions of his clothing. The heat emanating from his length warmed your thighs as it slid between your wetness. Ameond positioned himself to penetrate you, sliding in effortlessly.

“And here I am Princess,” he whispered, “here to pluck the prettiest Dornish flower.”

Despite your tries you couldn’t keep it together, screaming out as he thrust deeper into your tightening core. His fingers circled your clit tenderly coaxing you over the edge.

“Cum for me Princess,” he begged, “show me how much you love it. Show me.”

Your mind swirled with so many thoughts as you neared the peak of your pleasure. Aemond could no longer contain himself as your walls kneaded his cock relentlessly. Feeling himself nearing his release he leaned down into your neck.

“Shall I fill you up?,” he asked between staggered breaths.

The idea of being full of his seed sent you over the edge completely. Your eyes crossed as you panted out a breathy, “yes.”

“Oh yes, yes please. Fill me to the brim my lord.”

You both came there simultaneously in the dark. You lay against him, naked and utterly spent. He remained inside you, peppering your sweat soaked neck with kisses.

“Should we go another round,” he whispered in your ear as he held you tightly.

“My Prince has quite the stamina,” you giggled as you tried to catch your breath.

“There is more where that came from,” he said.

You shifted uncomfortably as you felt his seed spill down your inner thigh.

“Tsk tsk, that won’t do,” he teased as he watched your combined juices travel down your soft thighs.

“You’d see me with child my lord,” you said as you turned to face him, stealing a quick kiss.

“You won’t be leaving until I’m sure your womb is full,” he said as he wrapped your legs around his waist and slipped back inside you.

#aemond stannies #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen

[glitchydyke]

hi sash!!!!! BEGGING you to teach me all about the boyish bitch / ultimate drama / WHOEVER she is because by god i am. OBSESSED w her. ALSO HOPE YOU HAD A SWAG DAY!!

oh my god i have to write this entire fucking thing again bc tumblr crashed while i was on the last fucking sentence i hope i die

BUT. kotoko is a character in the danganronpa side game ultra despair girls !! she’s one of my faves from there, along w masaru (red haired kid on my kin list)

tw for abuse, sexual assault, rape, and suicide in her story

SO kotoko was a child actress who was insanely successful bc of her cute looks. she didn’t particularly want to be an actress (or like, she liked acting, but didn’t like the stress and adult attention it brought onto her) but kept it up bc she didn’t want to upset her mother

her mother, wanting to further kotoko’s career, began to prostitute kotoko when she was literally only 10 years old - and prostituted herself along with her, advertising them as a “mother-daughter set”. kotoko’s dad literally didn’t care abt this AT all, happy to spend all the money kotoko earned from acting and also having an affair :/ kotoko also developed a trigger to the word gentle bc of this abuse, bc that’s a word her rapists would use to “reassure” her abt what they were doing to her

she was also enrolled in hope’s peak elementary, where she was put in the troublemakers class and made a set of friends: masaru, nagisa, jataro, and monaca, who were all also being abused by their parents. bc of the abuse they were all facing, the five of them made a suicide pact and planned to jump from a roof together, but were “saved” by junko, who told them their parents were wrong for what they were doing to them and convinced them to create a paradise for children where they’d never have to be abused by adults again

which is what they did !! w monaca’s smarts and money, kotoko and the others (now calling themselves the warriors of hope) overtook a place called towa city, brainwashing the kids that lived there and sending out giant monokuma robots to kill any adults, which forced the remaining adults to go into hiding underground. another rule of this “paradise” was that if any kid felt themself becoming a demon (adult) they were to kill themself immediately which is. fun ^-^ towa city ALSO served as the location for a side killing game to trigger happy havoc, where the loved ones of the thh cast were kept and then hunted by the warriors

kotoko also brutally killed her parents during all of this btw ^-^ and showed no remorse for it, only wishing she could have done it again and again. which she was so real for <3

she does do some genuinely fucked up shit over the course of the game, the most notable one being the mini game where she kidnaps komaru (protag) and traps her in a machine that sexual assaults her. it’s. yeah it’s fucking danganronpa it’s disgusting it’s literally the worst part of the entire series

the game treats her like absolute shit though and she’s constantly used for fanservice (and i mean fucking constantly) which is disgusting in general but is even fucking worse considering 1. she’s a minor (despite the fact she claims she’s not), and 2. her backstory literally revolving around her being a survivor of rape

BUT that’s her story! she does survive the series though, and continues to live in (now non-child-controlled) towa city with her friends (minus monaca)

personality wise though shes v outgoing and energetic and loves all things pink and sparkly and cute!! shes real fucking mean tho but honestly given the horrific shit she’s been thru she’s entirely justified in that + i think she shld be even MORE mean <3 also i genuinely think she’s a super interesting character because she has this whole bubblegum and sparkles personality but then… she’s the ultimate drama. and she’s been through some shit. so it’s entirely likely that this persona she shows is just an act, because she’s been taught from childhood that she’s only wanted when she’s cute, and if she’s angry and disobedient and upset and “ugly” then she’ll be hurt or abandoned.. v interesting to analyse

overall she’s one of my fave dr characters for sure!!! i just wish she was treated better by the game bc they honestly treat her like shit

#shld put her back on my comfort characters carrd page.. #had to take her off to make room for someone else i think but. need to put her back #asks #marcy 💗

[splendidcyan]

Alright alright alright, trying to get better about sharing my art again. Here is a whole dump of Bad Batch doodles that I did over the last semester, mostly of Omega cause it's easier to draw kids than adults aaand cause she is my daughter and I love her, and cause I've basically just been giving her

All of these were done with watercolor and gouache on either hot press watercolor paper or Bristol paper. The Bad Batch redesign was touched up digitally. I know I've seen other people redesign them and I wanted to throw my hat in the ring, mostly with jaw and head shapes to really push the clone-ness of them, as well as a more appropriate skin tone and hair texture for them. I also think albinism and vitiligo are super interesting things to explore in the clones to give em variety, (from what I read, vitiligo is triggered by stressors and like,, what is more stressful than being mechanically implanted?? Vitiligo Echo is my beloved ok)

The Omega with the flowers and the gold vase is a redraw of some historical piece I found on Pinterest, it's reference will be below a read more for the sake of keeping this already long post short, and my favorite Omega is her in the tank top and 99 logo sweatpants that clearly don't fit her... She's just so cute 😭 and finally, alt text will be in captions... Now Tumblr plz don't crash when posting this

(EDIT, my god it posted, I haven’t been able to successfully post from tumblr mobile for AGES.... some of the images got messed up but tumblr desktop doesnt seem to be able to fix it so ya’ll just get a kinda funny post, sorry gamers)

#my art #the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #bad batch hunter #hunter #tech #crosshair #wrecker #echo #omega #gouache #watercolor #character design #redesign #my god tumblr do not crash on me now i beg of you #bad batch tech #bad batch omega #bad batch crosshair #bad batch echo #bad batch wrecker #tcw #tbb #swtcw #swtbb #college has been stressful and life has been depressing so shout out to bad batch fanfic writers for bringing me serotonin

[kirozai]

Hi, i finally send the request! sorry didn't send it sooner it's because sometimes tumblr would delete ask if there's too many or it's clogging the user's askbox .

So it was before the traveller came into the picture, their grace wanted to look around in teyvat. But unfortunately, in mondstat they weren't welcomed, even Venti despise them. When they go to Liyue for shelter, Zhongli asked the adepti to hunt them down. Their grace somehow managed to Inazuma, sadly...their grace get the same treatment. Then everything went down in dragonspine, the archons stare down at the "imposter" and finally they killed them. Before they drew their last breath they said "I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry for being...a burden to you all" with that teyvat felt their grace's emotions..

The winds howling

The thunder roared

The earth underneath them were shaking

The oceans were in crashing

All of teyvat were grieving for them

They all felt their pain

The Archons realize what they did, even when they begged on their knees, asking for forgiveness... it's too late. To remind their failure, they made an altar somewhere in Liyue as a place for their grace to rest. It always hurt for the archons to see their body in a glass coffin. No matter how extravagant the clothes they put on their body, it would not change the scars they inflicted on them. Everyday the altar filled with offerings and gifts from bouquet of Cecilias, star shaped Cor lapis and even necklace made out of sango pearls.

Until years later,

They woke up from their endless slumber. The Archons was surprised but immediately bowed down to them. But their grace were confused with their act. In fact, they're asking them if they could go adventure around the teyvat. Somehow forgot the pain they used to felt. They just simply forgot that it was happened in the first place

How would the archons react in this situation?

AAAAAAA thank you so much for doing my super heavy request. I wish I could pay for your service but I shall manifest that you would get 5* that you always wanted or SSR or any ultra rare stuff in your gacha game.

PAINNNN

______________________________________________

Why?…

heavy angst no comfort ( omg kirozai going againts their own rules??), genshin cult au, major character death (you lmao), pain, talks of blood, like good luck.

zhongli.

punish me, hurt me, do anything but please dont forgive me like this.

zhongli. the god of contracts and the god of war. how interesting. the smartest out of the 7.. yet he couldn’t even recognize you. he brought scars to you, he was happy that you were bleeding, what a beautiful red scarlet color, dripping with such a viscosity so perfect… he inflicted that onto you. and it was to late. he couldn’t save you. no matter what. every single time he looks at you. in that crystal clear glass coffin, it brings him pain and guilt. its what he deserves after all… but the moment he saw you woke up he rejoiced bowing to you praying for your apology even offering his own head. yet you didn’t even remember what happened.you asked to go out and have fun. you asked him to stop sobbing tears from the sky about something that never happened. it did happen though. the scars on you are still visible. now hes stuck with two choices. confess and give himself up or live with the guilt and pain never telling you what happened to be your innocent and loyal acolyte. if he picks choice one; your reaction is.. emotional. out of reaction you start screaming at him them weeping. how could you impersonate yourself?? and did they do this to everyone else that looked like you?! how can they be trusted now?? it all depends on you now. will you forgive him or will you kill him? choosing the second option is a straight sword in his heart. he understands and as you watch him stab the dull blade into himself, tears not out of pain but out of guilt and shame, falling to your knees, the person you cared for is now gone. of course, this wouldn’t happen if you choose forgiving him he will forever be indebted to you. he will give his whole life worshiping you, forget liyue, he needs to pay for his sins. centuries of centuries may go by before he finally allowed himself to be forgiven. this.. is only one outcome of course. another outcome said before is just not saying anything at all. the guilt and shame will get to him of course. maybe even driving him to insanity. he cant stay quiet no. maybe the others can but he just can’t either way. the ending for him or the beginning of him all depends on you in the end. how fitting. a god that isnt really a god but just a normal being. the pressure is immense. so. choose now, or watch the whole of teyvat fall.

venti.

oh of course not! there is nothing to worry about everything is just fine!!

venti. the first character you got. as the banners went by you cared for every one of them. yet they couldn’t recognize you. your death hit him like a hammer banging on his head. what made it worse that he, himself, was the cause of it. the tears you gave him with not a single drop of mercy was given to you. he should’ve listened to you. he should’ve heard you out. it doesn’t matter now . you’re gone. he’s the one who dresses you in the most beautiful garments. the apparel so perfect and he is so sure you’d love it if you were here with him. he saw you, alive and well, he was happy, he was terrified, he quickly bowed to you. unlike zhongli he doesn’t start spewing out sorrys. when he hears from you yourself; you don’t know what happened. he panics and says he was joking. oh dear. oh dear indeed. now he’s serving you. like he’s always wanted. from you perspective he’s just very clingy. but there is something deeper. every hug he does for you, the effort he gives to make sure your happy, the clinging, it all stems from guilt. but its been 1 year since you first came back to life. the other archons obviously know whats happening, but lets just keep you happy, okay?

ei.

forget about me. do what you wish of me your grace. but please do not forget the things i’ve done to you.

ei. the one who hurt you the most. the guilt is unbearable. it hurts more then when she lost her own sister. that look on your face. pleading eyes wishing for you to please check what she is doing. it was to late when she realized you were you! not an imposter. she wonders now. what would’ve happened if one of the other imposters were you. she has killed so many for just having the same hair as you. she saw you awoke she bowed. thats when it broke her. you don’t remember. her heart shatters into a million of pieces. she doesn’t deserve you. she is nothing. she hides hides from her duties hides from you hides from everyone even yae miko. she promises to come out when you understand whats happening. which leaves the other archons to deal with it. the plane of shame and guilt. it is no longer a place where she finds peace in and can meditate. it is for to repent for her sins. she can no longer call herself a god or archon. she gives up. she prays to you to remember. she wanted eternity with you. but she, the god of eternity, could’ve taken that away from you. she is no longer worthy. she is now just your loyal, shattered, acolyte.

_____________________________________________

this is painful ☹️. imagine breaking your own rules. couldnt be me. this is how they will react.

kirozai out.

edited: yes

proofread: no

#genshin self aware #genshin zhongli #zhongli #baal #genshin baal #genshin ei #ei #venti #venti genshin impact #genshin venti #angst #cult #self awareness #self aware genshin #angst heavy #no comfort #pain #death #-Amigurumi Anon 🐻

[cinderspots]

Look.

I didn't want to do this.

I didn't wanna be the person, who dragged an individual relentlessly, but circumstances change. And sometimes people, don’t know when to stop.

I do not take this lightly, concerns have been raised, and i have never once ever done this before because i have never had a reason to do so.

Now I do.

So.

Dear @doomslayer81

This is for you.

...

First! I am going to put a series of tags of people who are alright with their identity being shared. Some stories have anon tellers simply because they don’t want to deal with the backlash. That is completely up to them of course.

@donnabenevientosimpingzone

@spacehumanwrites

@katsafaria

@sapphic-alcina-dimitrescu

Most people wished to remain anonymous.

Now, this is a callout post. Doomslayer81 has a infamous past of harassment, inappropriate interruptions of a variety of posts, a few suggestive comments, and a pattern of begging for forgiveness and repeating their mistakes.

Anonymous Quote

"Man's delusional, literally delusional. You could tell him to leave you alone and he'd still come crashing. He has no sense of boundaries, he doesn't know when he needs to stop, and he refuses to listen to anyone.

If you see this, motherfucker, let me make this clear. We want nothing, absolutely nothing to do with you. Get it through your fucking head. I am sick of seeing you harass everyone, and there are plenty of others who share my sentiment. As you are now, you are a thorn on everyone's right asscheek, one that refuses to let go.

I say this as politely as possible, just stop. We will not forgive you or give you a second chance, this is our verdict, kindly fuck off."

This anon has beared witness to multiple harassment fiasco's with doomslayer81, and has multiple friends who've been "targeted" by the blog

@donnabenevientosimpingzone

"I hate what hes doing. I'm not sure if I can say I hate him, but I certainly hate what he's doing. He has manipulative tendencies and attention-seeking. He's harassed people for me before I blocked him and now he's harassing people that I blocked him. If he doesn't change, I'm not going to stick around and be a problem for other people- I will leave. I'm tired of his actions, and this is a side blog I made for fun- not a job. This is a choice, and I will choose to leave if he continues this bullshit."

They've blocked him and in response to that hes reached out to multiple blogs, harassing them to talk to donnabenevientosimpingzone about their decision and has repeatedly shown they cannot respect boundaries. Now this conversation alone isn't exactly damning. Which is why this is next.

CinderSpots [Me]

"Oh, I dont know if they remember, but ive been down this road with them before. It wasn't pleasant being repeatedly spammed/harassed about an ask they sent me, but i managed to block them quickly. Fuck off honestly, you've done enough damage."

Oh my god i cannot express to you.

I explained, others have explained, they beg for forgiveness, repeat the mistake, beg for forgiveness again. I dont know what else to say about this, at that point i had more information regarding them as a tumblr user and soon. So will you.

@katsafaria

This is the...5th person(?) they've contacted to attempt to reach donnabenevientosimpingzone.

After they've previously harassed them.

After they've been told to stop, and leave them be. You'll notice (once again) theres a pattern of repeating mistakes and then desperately begging for forgiveness. Now if you haven't been in an abusive relationship before (first off good job, you're doing so great for a tumblr user ngl) this is a sign of manipulation and attention seeking behavior, add this on top of the mistakes themselves and the way they seem to display it, this makes me question their age as well, but that is something I cannot prove or entirely back up, simply a gut feeling I have along with a few others.

The way they are behaving is manipulative and toxic, which is why this post began. They scream, red flag

@sapphic-alcina-dimitrescu​

“Yeah, I’d like him to know that he needs to read the room, to stop harassing people. If he doesn’t understand, but people seem angry, he needs to figure it out.”

They’re hardly the first person to tell me that. The thing is, he simply doesn’t figure things out, he doesn’t attempt to figure them out either. It’s a different story when only one or two people have a problem with someone, it’s a different story when the person who’s causing problems is genuinely confused, it’s a different story when someone truly means what they say when they apologize. 

They don’t mean it, because they consistently make the same mistakes over and over again. Would you forgive someone who apologized for the same things repeatedly and never changed? 

So many people got their inboxes spammed, their dms blown up, their discords pinged over and over again. There is a line. And they crossed it, big time. A lot of my mutuals and their mutuals and other people i hadn’t really heard of yet, have had a problem. Some didn’t want to give a quote, some wanted their privacy kept. The total tally I have as a final number of when I decided to put this post together is 22. People that I know of.

Anonymous Quote

“Here’s what I would say: Stop being an asshole and get a life.”

Anonymous Quote

“I just want to say he has repeatedly interacted after being told to stop.”

Anonymous Quote

“Honestly I just want him to go away, he just...won’t stop no matter what? It’s really uncomfortable.”

Anonymous Quote

“Just stop.”

Anonymous Quote

“Please read the room, stop, leave the fandom alone, and especially stop pushing your way into conversations. Stop.”

Anonymous Quote

“I see him everywhere, a lot, he’s kinda like an infection y’know? A lot of us tries to tell him to leave us alone the nice way, but he just..wouldn’t. I needed him to stop, so I blocked him. I’m lucky that way I guess, he didn’t try to get to me through other people..”

...

It doesn’t make me happy to do this, but if I can get this many people to tell me a similar story, doesn’t that say something?

I’m not saying, go to his blog and be a dick or something, I’m saying be aware of this person. Because a lot of people weren’t and got them nothing but trouble. He shows manipulative traits, and multiple people can back me up on the fact that he feels insincere and uncomfortable. As I was writing this, I realized he’d sent me two more messages that I’d failed to notice before, and somehow they were both incredibly willfully ignorant of everything I’d told him. 

Trust me, and if not me, trust the people who’ve spoken to me and allowed me to take their quotes to this post. Block him.

Block him.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #ethan winters #mia winters #rosemary winters #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #donna beneviento #angie beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #resident evil biohazard #resident evil 7 #re8 #re7 #callout #doomslayer81 #manipulative behavior #toxic traits #harassment #look this made me mildly uncomfortable the more i wrote #but i felt like it was important that i said something #and helped these people say something too #if you're gonna comment lets not make this a 'attack that guy' or a cuss me/anybody who was quoted/or doomslayer out #ok?

[blushled]

Love | Dallas Winston

MASTERLIST

other Tumblr: sunkissedspidey

taglist is open!

requests are open!

pairing: Dallas Winston x female!reader

summary: Your relationship with Dally was always weird, you weren’t dating and you definitely weren't just friends. But after he almost loses you, he realizes just how much he needs you.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, angst, fluff, etc.

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: Please forgive me for how gross and choppy this is! This is the first thing I’ve written in months!! Sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!

Your relationship with Dally had always been a little weird. Not by much, but definitely compared to the other guys.

You were the only chick in the group, and everyone in it had a phase at some point where they were completely enamored with you, all expect for Darry, mostly because he saw you as a little sister. But it was always special with Dally.

You had met Dally, and the rest of the guys, when you were 15, right after he had gotten back to Oklahoma from New York. You two were always close, and you were the only person he had ever opened up to, so it's no wonder that you two had lost your virginities to each other, and still have casual sex to this day. The both of you had an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone, but Soda had walked in on the two of you one time, so now it was only you three that knew the secret.

Anyways, regardless of the hours upon hours of sex that was shared between you at least once a day, your relationship was closer than anyone else in the group, even stronger than yours and Soda's, despite the fact that the two of you had been best friends since second grade.

You never really cared about the fact that Dally was sleeping with other people. I mean, it's not like you weren't doing the same thing. You'd had sex with Dally, then Soda one night after you had both gotten absolutely hammered beyond belief, and even Peter Torlini from school a few times. But it always was better with Dally. Not just because he was amazing in bed, but because you were positive that you were head over heels in love with him. And, goddamn, if he didn't feel the same way, he was amazing at faking it. Like, you don't always have that sort of connection with someone when you have sex. Your bodies became one, and you knew exactly what the other needed at that exact moment. Who knows... maybe he was just good in bed and knew what you needed because you had been having sex for so long, or maybe... just maybe; he felt the same way for you that you did for him.

***

"Fuck, Dally! Oh, my god!" You moaned out, his cock so deep inside of you that it had your head spinning.

"Goddamn," He breathed out, his face close to yours, same with the rest of his body, as he pumped into you at a fast, steady pace, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of your trembling, naked bodies. "You're so fucking good and tight for me. 'M not gonna last much longer, Y/N." He groaned out, his breathing heavy, along with yours, as he thrusted even deeper. He wrapped his arms underneath your head, tugging on your hair as you scratched down his back.

"God, please cum for me, Dallas." You moaned, his pace quickening even more so, leaving you screaming as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he couldn't help but cum, quickly pulling out and helplessly spilling his seed all over your stomach as he let out load, drawn out moans, before his muscles gave out and he collapsed back on top of you.

Your hands ran into his hair as he gave you another hot, passionate kiss before rolling over next to you on your bed, reaching over onto the night stand to grab two smokes and a lighter, passing one to you before lighting both of them up, as you both smoked, and exhaled, simultaneously, your brains started to feel foggy with euphoria as the nicotine began to enter your bloodstreams at the same time.

***

A few weeks later, you and the rest of the guys were sitting around, just talking about nothing in particular, only until Two-Bit brought up a fun topic.

"I got it!" He said, a large smirk on his face. "Best lay... Aaand... Steve, go!" Pointing at the brunette with both hands shaped as guns.

"Uhm... Probably Gracie. Big tits." He laughed out, a smoke in between his teeth.

Everyone erupted with laughter, Ponyboy and Johnny rolling their eyes and turning their attention to the cartoons on the small television.

"Y/N! Your turn!" Two-Bit said, laughing as he took a sip of his third beer.

"Not telling." You laughed as you sat on the countertop. You rolled your eyes heavily and let out an annoyed sigh as everyone booed at you. "Ugh, fine," You said, closing your eyes. "Uhm, I'm not saying the name, but he was tall with brown eyes, massive dick, and goddamn, he knew how to use it well, dark hair, and also the best kisser I've ever met before."

    Dally automatically knew that you were talking about it, a smirk spreading across his face as you enthused about just how good the "mystery man" was in bed.

*** You and Dally sat in your old, run down car, eating Dairy Queen and talking about nothing in particular.

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked before licking the melting ice cream off of his waffle cone.

"Always." You smirked, turning the music playing on the radio down a bit so you could hear him more clearly.

"You're the best I've ever had, too." He said, smirking as your cheeks lit up a bright pink shade at his words.

"And why's that, Mister Winston?" You laughed, your eyes meeting his again as he leaned in closer to you, using his free hand to circle around your clit over your underwear, your skirt covering Dally's hand from the wrist down, your eyes slowly rolling back as you moaned quietly into his mouth.

"That's just one of the reasons. You're so goddamn sensitive and I fucking love it." He laughed when you whined after his touched left you, a small huff of anger leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

After a few seconds, you grabbed his ice cream and shoved it in an empty cup, his eyes meeting your with confusion before you moved over the center console to straddle him, your lips immediately going to his as you grinder your hips together, small groans leaving both of your mouths. You tugged at his leather belt, unbuttoning his jeans after, sliding his boxers down, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock.

    He reached around your waist and lifted your tight shirt off of you quickly, his soft lips moving to kiss all over your breasts and he left the occasional hickey, his cool, slender fingers i clipping your bra, before he started kissing up and down your neck until you were begging for more.

    "Dally, please." You whimpered, your body trembling from want.

    He moved your underwear over to the side, right before his cock slammed into you as he pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out moans because of how fucking amazing it felt.

"Fuck, Dally! Shit, you feel so fucking good!" You screamed out, glad that it was night and that no one was around the two of you.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight-" He said before a groan cut him off, his hands gripping your waist even tighter, bruises sure to be left there (not that you were complaining in the slightest).

    One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh, fast circles as his eyes rolled back, your head dipping down to suck dark purple bruises onto the soft, pale skin of his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet yours in sync, his cock hitting inside of you deeper and deeper with each thrust, the other of you chasing yourself highs as best as you could.

    Your eyes clenched shut tightly as you bit down on muscles of his shoulder, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly that you could barley breathe. Dally's arms wrapped around you, scratching up and down your back and you tugged harshly at his hair, knowing that he was coming close.

    "Cum for me." You whispered into his ear, biting down slightly on his earlobe, and then that was it. He came with a cry of your name and a load groan, his cum coating your walls as you clenched around him tighter, his teeth sinking into your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you until his muscles gave out. Your collective breathing was heavy as you both came down from your highs, his hair sweaty as you ran your fingers through it, the smell of sex and cigarettes lingering in the small, cramped car.

    "Goddamn," He said, laughing as you sat back, moving your hair out of your eyes. "That was fucking amazing."

    "Isn't it always?" You smiled cockily, grinding your hips once more, causing another load moan to come from Dally's throat, partially because it felt amazing and partially because he was so fucking sensitive.

    "What'd I turn you into?" He smirked, biting down on the skin of your neck softly, his perfect teeth skimming your jaw as he made eye contact with you again.

    "A sex addict." You said simply, a smile breaking across your face as Dally started laughing at your blatant tone, his head tipping up to kiss you softly and slowly.

    The two of you had made an agreement not to do anything with anyone else after a while, figuring that it would save the both of you from getting jealous because, even though you weren't official, the both of you were super mad every time you walked in on the other with a different person.

*** "Oh my god, fuck off!" You yelled, laughing as Soda had beaten you in poker for the fifth time that night, the rest of the guys whooping and cheering as you flipped them all of, taking your shirt off, a black bra the only thing covering your chest. Strip poker was a weird game to play with a big group of your closest friends, but it had been a favorite of everyone's for years. Dally stood in the corner, a cigarette in between his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes dark with oust and squinted with anger.

"Alright," You said, standing up and putting your shirt back on, boos coming from the guys. "I think that's enough for me tonight."

You made your way to the bathroom of the Curtis' house, putting your hair up in a ponytail before you washed the dark eyeliner surrounding your eyes off, using a rag to dry your face before changing into an extra t-shirt and pajama shorts that you always kept there, since everyone usually spent the night there.

You walked out into the dark hallway, making your way to the living room before Dally pushed you up against one of the walls, his lips meeting yours harshly as one of his hands made its way into your loose shorts, his long, slender figures toying with your clit as you tried your best to control the volume of your moans.

"Never, fucking never, pull that shit again. You got that? You know how fucking hot you are, and you know how those dudes think about you." He said, his voice low and commanding, but a tone of sweetness underlying in it.

You knew that he wasn't mad, he was just worried, even though there's no way in hell that he would ever admit that to anyone. He was your best friend, and you were his.

*** "Oh, come on, Dally. It's not even that bad. It's just a movie." You whined, gripping onto his denim jacket.

"It's a stupid movie." He laughed as your head sunk even lower, your lower lip stick out as you widened your eyes, your face jokingly pleading.

    "Dallyyy, pleaseee?" You dragged out, kissing his neck softly.

    "Fine. But if I hate it, it's on you." He laughed as you squealed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. And after a second you both looked at each other and then moved away, realizing that you were acting more like a couple than like fuck buddies.

    "I'm- uh- I'm gonna go home. Gotta get ready, ya know?" You said, standing up from the couch at Dally and Buck's place, grabbing your purse and jacket, and waving goodbye to the brunette that had your heart.

***

    As you made you way back over to Dally's, you checked how you looked in the reflection of a storefront window. Your tight white t-shirt clung to your body perfectly, your black ripped jeans hugged your frame, and you had on your favorite jacket. A thick, worn, black leather one that all of the guys had gotten you for your birthday after they had pooled their money together, a switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter in one of the pockets. Your black eyeshadow and eyeliner was done perfectly, and was an amazing contrast to your bright red lipstick.

    "Dally!" You smiled, wrapping him in a small, short hug when we opened his door, throwing a shirt on and leading you down the street towards the drive in.

***

    "I'm gonna go get some popcorn." You said to Dally, smiling as you stood up from one of the cheap, grey folding chairs.

    "Be careful." He said, handing you some money before turning his attention to the movie that he claimed was stupid.

    "Medium popcorn and a large Coke with two straws, please." You said to the worker at the concessions stand, handing him the money in exchange for your food and drink.

    You walked out of the concessions stand, making your way back until some shuffling on the side of the building caught your attention. You turned your head, and the second you did, you instantly regretted it. You saw Dally making out with Polly Winchester, her hands running through his hair as he pinned her against a wall. His eyes met with your for a second and he instantly pulled away, his lips smeared with her red lipstick and his breathing hard.

    "Oh shit." He said quietly, walking over to you, trying to take your hands in his, put you instantly pulled away.

    "You fucking asshole." You said calmly, turning away towards the exit before he grabbed your arm, and then you snapped. "Don't fucking touch me!" You screamed, the people sitting near you turning to look at the two of you.

    "Y/N, I'm sorry." He said, trying his best to reach out for you agin until you took the top off of your drink and threw it in his face.

    "Fuck. You." You said clearly, finally being able to turn and walk away, tears filling your eyes as you walked back to your house.

***

    A few days later, practically in the middle of the night, you were sitting on your bed, a cigarette in one of your hands as you used the other to flip through your favorite book, music softly playing on your record player in the background as you tried your best to ignore the ache in your heart at the fact that Dally was practically fucking a chick against a wall right in front of you.

    A knock on your front door shook you out of your daze, ashing your cigarette before making your way down the hall to your front door. The second you opened it, your heart sank, your stomach dropping as you saw Dallas standing there, a pleading look on his face.

    "C-can I come in?" He asked quietly, his hands stuffed into his pocket.

    You didn't say anything, you just opened your door more and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk into your small house.

    "What do you want? Another pack of smokes? I have some on the counter and a Coke in the fridge and then you can go back to the drive in so that you don't have to pay." You said blankly, sitting down on your couch as flipping through a book that was on your coffee table.

    "No, I don't need any of that. I just wanna talk." He said, standing next to the couch awkwardly.

    "About what? About how you basically fucked Polly during a movie that we were supposed to be watching together? About how you ditched me to go stick your dick in some whore on the side of a goddamn building?!" You said, not being able to control your volume as you stood up looking at him, absolutely fuming.

    "Yeah, pretty much." He answered, not knowing what else to say.

    "You promised me, Dally. You fucking promised." You said, your eyes boring into his.

    "I know, but listen-" He tried to say before you cut him off.

    "No, Dally. You listen to me. You are such a lying fucking asshole! I can't believe I ever thought that we could be something other than friends with benefits." You said, your eyes becoming puffy. "Fuck you, Dallas Winston. I never want to see you again." You said calmly through your teeth, silently seething. You turned towards the hallway to go into your room, before Dally grabbed your arm, your eyes meeting his again, both of your eyes red as silent tear streamed down your faces simultaneously.

    "Please, Y/N." He said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "Please don't leave me."

    "You've never listened to me when I've asked you not to leave... Why should I listen to you?" You asked quietly.

    "Because I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than smokes and parties and beer. More than sleep and sex and rumbles. So please, Y/N... Please don't leave. And I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

    "I love you too, Dally. So much more than you'll ever be able to know."

    At this point, his hands were tangled in yours, your faces close together as you both finally admitted your true feeling for one another after all of this time.

    "You do?" He asked, shock evident in his voice. "You love me?"

    "Of course I love you, Dally. I've loved you ever since we were kids." You whispered, your lips only inches apart.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his hands going slowly and tenderly up to your neck.

    "Please."

    And with that, you lips met in the most perfect kiss you could ever think of, like your lips were pieces of a puzzle and were made to fit perfectly together. After a few minutes it grew more passionate, more lust filled.

    His hands went down to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly as you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you continued kissing as he walked the both of you to your room. He placed you softly on your bed, kissing down your body as he lifted an oversized white t-shirt, that just so happened to be his, over your head. He kissed all over your chest and your neck, only stopping for a few seconds to shed off his leather jacket and black shirt, before immediately going back to your lips to kiss you as you moaned into each others mouths while your hips grinned against each other's.

    "Dally, please." You moaned, your hands smoothing over his back.

    "Please what?" He asked, looking at your with swollen red lips, a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.

    "Make love to me." You whispered, your lips close to each others until he closed the distance between your mouths.

    He kissed down your neck, chest, and stomach again as he pulled your shorts off of you, moving to kiss your inner thighs as you whined from the feeling that you missed.

    He stood up again to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants off not shortly after. You pulled him back on top of you, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against yours. He took his length in is hands, lining it up with your entrance before stopping for a few seconds to stare deeply into his big brown eyes.

    "I love you." He whispered.

    "I love you too." You replied before you met your lips with his again.

    The second he thrusted slowly inside of you, you both let out moans at the amazing feeling. he started with a slow, tender pace as you breathed heavily into each others mouths, your eyes still staring into the others.

    "Oh my god." You moaned out, eyes finally shutting tightly as he continued to pump into you, his pace quickening as his groans started to grow louder and loader, along with your moans.

    "Fuck, I love you so-" He said, getting cut off as he groaned loudly. "I love you so much."

    "I love you too, Dally- Fuck!" You screamed, the feeling of him being inside of you so goddamn intense that you could barely speak coherently.

    And then it made sense. Every feeling that you had ever had for him made so much sense. Every time that he would look at you and smile at the completely ordinary thing you were doing, every time that he told you to call him when you got home, every time that his figures brushed against yours while watching a movie made sense. He had loved you even longer that you had loved him. From the second your eyes met his when you met, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you. He had never realized how much he needed to tell you until he almost lost you, until he realized how much he needs you.

    "Dally, I'm not gonna last much longer." You moaned, lips moving to kiss the sides of his clan shaven face and his smooth forehead.

    "N-neither am I. Fuck, please cum for me, Y/N. Please. God, I love you." He moaned before his head dipped down to meet your lips with his.

    And with a few more thrusts, you were completely spiraling underneath him, your whole body trembling as you came at this same time, his final few thrusts harder and deeper than before until he finally collapsed on top of you, his lips going to kiss your red cheeks as you both breathed heavily.

    "I love you so much. Please be mine, Y/N. Please." He said, his lips skimming yours.

    "I love you more, Dally. And I'll be yours, forever and ever and ever." And with that, you both fell asleep, all sweaty and gross. But you were sweaty and gross and happier than you had ever been before.

#dallas winston #matt dillon #smut #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston x reader smut #dallas winston x reader angst #dallas winston x reader fluff #matt dillon x reader #matt dillon x reader smut #matt dillon x reader angst #matt dillon x reader fluff #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders smut #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders angst #fanfiction #fanfic #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #x reader #x y/n #blushled

[bibliosophist]

You may take this as a prompt request if you want to or just me thirsting to you (again)

Picture this:

MC is sitting next to one of the brothers on their bed wearing a top and some shorts, watching a movie together when MC leans into the brother's side and whispers into his ear: "I only want to let you know that I'm not wearing panties right now."

(AND THEN THEY FUCKED)

Sorry it took me a while to get to, I haven't had time to get on tumblr lately. Bc I made you wait I'll do all the brothers. Heads up I’m writing these while I’m pretty tipsy so I hope they all make sense lol

Movie Night + “I’m not wearing any panties” ft. GN MC (NSFW/18+)

Lucifer

You’re watching a documentary that he had imported from the human world. It’s drier than dust- something about politics that would make even The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire seem riveting.

Doesn’t visibly react at all.

Demands you remove your shorts, not taking his eyes off the television.

Once your lower half is bared, orders you to sit in his lap so that your back is against his chest and you have a leg on either side of his body.

Continues to watch the documentary as he fucks you with one hand, the other pressed against your abdomen, keeping your body close to his.

“Be quiet. You don’t want me to have to rewind this, do you?”

Moves his hand from your abdomen to your throat when you continue to moan.

Doesn’t stop until you’ve cum so hard your legs are shaking.

You’re nearing tears from overstimulation by the time the documentary is over. “Have you had enough?” he asks. You can only whimper in response.

“Too bad,” he chuckles as he lowers you on to your back. “You wanted my attention, and now you’ve got it.”

Mammon

Poor boy nearly has a heart attack.

“O-oi! You can’t just go around sayin’ stuff like that!”

You ask him what the problem is with the most innocent look you can muster.

“Waddaya mean what’s the problem?! I have a hard enough time controllin’ myself around ya as it is!”

Once you’ve assured him that you do not, in fact, want him to control himself, it’s like you’re a casino and it’s payday. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do first. His mouth is on yours but his hands are everywhere.

He just can’t get enough of you and is perfectly content to do everything in his power to give you pleasure- his own is an afterthought.

When you finally manage to get a hand down his pants, you think his head may actually explode.

Once you start begging for his cock he drags you to the edge of the bed, slinging your ankles over his shoulders as he fucks you. He loves watching the faces you make.

Leviathan

You’re laying side by side in his tub watching a movie when you tell him.

He may have momentarily died. You aren’t quite sure.

Is he breathing?

“Levi? Levi!”

“W-why are you telling me that?!”

He absolutely, unequivocally does not believe that you could possibly have any interest in him.

You’re just teasing him, aren’t you? Who would want an icky ot-

Oh my God, what are you doing?

“Levi,” you say as you wrap him up in a hug. “It’s okay. Nothing has to happen unless you want it to.”

He stammers something into your hair. When you lift your head to ask him what he says, he catches your lips with his.

At first it’s a bit sloppy, but the longer you kiss the more confident he becomes.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You shiver when you feel his erection pressed against your stomach.

You can actually feel his hands shaking as he holds you against him, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

“Can I show you how much I want you?” you ask, reaching for the ties of his pants.

He’s an actual human tomato, but he nods vigorously, lifting his hips so you can slide his pants and underwear down his thighs.

He bites on his hand to quiet the sounds he makes as you suck him off.

He slips his fingers in the leg of your shorts and soon you’re the one moaning.

You don’t fuck tonight, but if Levi’s reaction is anything to go by, you’ll have many opportunities in the future.

Satan

In the glow of the TV you can make out the smirk on his face.

Pauses the movie- an adaptation of one of his favourite books- pulling you into his lap before crushing his lips against yours.

Satan has beautiful hands, and he knows how to use them. He quickly has you undressed and begging for him.

He obliges, letting you unzip his trousers and pull his cock free.

One of the best things about Satan? He has a spell for everything. He speaks a few words and instant lubrication.

You shudder as he slides into you, the stretch is mind numbing. He guides you as you bounce on him, moving faster as that sweet fire begins to build.

Digs his fingers into your hips and slams you down the moment he feels you begin to clench around him. Holds you still with his cock deep inside you.

“Satan” you whine, trying desperately to move against him.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he unpauses the movie. “Do you not like being interrupted?”

Makes you warm his cock while he finishes watching. Every time you move, he backs the film up, adding to the length of your punishment.

When it’s over, though? Oh boy. You won’t be walking tomorrow, that’s for sure.

Asmodeus

“Neither am I!”

The movie is promptly forgotten.

He wastes absolutely no time in getting the both of you naked.

Asmo is nothing if not a tease. He spends an eternity kissing, licking, and sucking bruises into every inch of your skin. He’s got you begging by the time he makes it back up to your lips.

But as much as Asmo loves to tease, he loves to be worshipped even more. You aren’t getting anything until he feels properly appreciated.

You tell him how beautiful he is over and over again as you roll your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading precum over his flushed skin.

“Ah, one more time. Say it one more time,” he whines as you suck gently at each of his balls in turn.

It isn’t until you’ve got him biting his lip, a flush spreading up his chest, that he pulls away from you, pushing you onto your back in the middle of the bed.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he whispers as he kneels between your thighs.

You’d better not expect to get any sleep tonight, because the Avatar of Lust wants to make you feel just as beautiful and loved as you make him.

Beelzebub

Beel has a thing for human world cooking competitions, and you brought home a whole collection of them.

Honestly, you’re not sure how much more Chopped you can watch. Food is not at the forefront of your mind when you’ve got Beel in your bed.

When you lean into him and whisper that you aren’t wearing any panties, the focused demon takes a whole thirty seconds to react.

“Wh-what, (Y/N)? I thought you said...” he trails off, turning scarlet.

You look up at him through your lashes, nodding.

Sweet baby stares down at his hands clutched in his lap.

“Can... Would it be okay if I kissed you... there?”

There’s no sidestepping what this boy wants, even if it takes all his courage to ask for it.

Like you’d say no?

Lets you sit on his face while he demonstrates exactly what gluttony means.

Doesn’t stop, even when you nearly pull his hair out as a second orgasm crashes over you. He might be enjoying this just as much as you are.

You grip the headboard with one hand, reaching behind you with the other, wanting to feel his cock, to give him an ounce of the pleasure he’s giving you. You fumble- a lot- but eventually you do manage to get his fly open.

You spit into your hand before pumping it up and down the length of his shaft. He rocks his hips as you move, and even though together the motion is erratic it seems to work just fine for him, because before you know it he’s shuddering under you as he cums all over his chest and your bare ass.

Belphegor

“So?”

Glances over at you with a single raised eyebrow before returning his attention to the movie you’ve been watching.

You know he’s going to make you work for his attention, and you’ve come prepared.

“I just thought I’d let you know,” you say as you recline on your pillows.

He maintains a solid poker face, even as you begin stroking yourself through your shorts.

You catch him sneaking peeks at you out of the corner of his eye.

But you know you have his full attention when you bring lubricant and a vibrator out of your bedside table.

This demon is an absolute slut for toys. Lots of pleasure with very little work? Now you’re speaking his language.

Is happy to sit back and enjoy the show-- until he isn’t.

“That’s enough of that,” he says, snatching the vibrator out of your hand and tossing it out of your reach. “If you’re so desperate to cum, I’ve got something to get you off.”

Now it’s his turn to lay on the pillows as you fuck yourself on his cock.

Waits until you’re mid-orgasm to take over, grabbing handfuls of your ass and bouncing you up and down until you’re seeing stars.

You’ll definitely have bruises tomorrow, but it’s totally worth it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date #om! lucifer #lucifer #om! mammon #mammon #om! levi #levi #om! leviathan #leviathan #om! satan #satan #om! asmo #asmo #om! asmodeus #asmodeus #om! beel #beel #om! beelzebub #beelzebub #om! belphie #belphie #om! belphegor #belphegor #ask #prompt #request #fic #obey me fic