#my hands may hurt BUT ITS ALL WORTH IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 2 months

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oh my god i was hoping u werent sick (no pun intended unless…) of all the doc rem requests!!!

can we get not just a regular doc rem but a casually dominant doc rem. like he’ll make sure ur drinking ur water, fixing ur posture by pulling your shoulders back gently, forcing u to put on a jacket if its just a tad 🤏🏻 bit cold outside

and ofc will scold u (lovingly) in the process. fem!reader is all like 🙄 but loves how much he cares about her

You're a genius for this lovely, thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 994 words

Your throat’s been bothering you since you woke up. It’s just a little scratchy, barely anything, but it feels like an ill omen. Still, you’re not going to bring your life to a halt on the slim chance the tickle in your throat is going to turn into something worse, and Remus would never hear the end of it if you skipped out on one of Sirius’ things anyway.

You probably should have abstained from drinking, though. You’ve only had one, but now your throat hurts worse, the music and chatter are too grating, and your head feels a tad fuzzier than it ought to. Sirius and Remus have gone from bickering about music to teaming up against James to bicker about films without your noticing, and now Lily’s offering you another drink and you have to ask her to repeat herself before declining. There’s an inconvenient ache blooming behind your eyes.

You know you’ve been sussed out when Remus wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. “Everything alright?”

“Mhm.” You leave it at that, leaning a back against his chest.

He hums. “Did you finish your water today?”

“Yeah.”

“What have you had to eat?”

You roll your eyes. Remus knows, somehow. He gives your hip a warning squeeze.

“Rem, I’m fine.”

“What have you eaten?”

You tell him, as if he wasn’t there for breakfast and didn’t pack your lunch himself. He nods, reassured you’d finished it all.

“You seem knackered for only having had one drink,” he observes.

You shrug. “I’m just not up to more tonight.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Remus hums, his grip adjusting just slightly to hold you more securely against him. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m just a bit tired.”

“Dove.” Your boyfriend has several tones you know well enough to pick up on a single word. This one is all too familiar. It’s mistrustful, admonishing, heavy with the weight of implied consequence. It says, I know you’re not being fully honest with me.

James may not pick up on all that, but he recognizes the shift in Remus’ attention, one of your boyfriend’s lengthy hands splaying protectively over your stomach. He sends you an amused look, which you return with a touch of loving pique, and then Remus is turning you around in his lap.

“Dove,” he says again, breath fanning over your face and eyes boring into yours and overall torturously close to you, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

You give up on denials, turning your eyes up to his pleadingly. “It’s really not bad,” you try.

Remus is unmoved. “Tell me, and I’ll say if it’s bad.”

“I don’t want to make it a thing.”

“You’re not. Go on.”

You sigh, squirming under the attention you can feel at your back. Remus’ friends have continued talking, but you know his behavior has caught their attention. “My throat’s just a bit sore,” you admit, “and I guess the alcohol must’ve made it worse.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, nodding for you to continue. “I feel a bit more affected than I usually would, so I decided to stop. That’s all.”

“Well, you don’t have a fever.” You release a tiny exhale, and Remus’ lips twitch. “How long has your throat been bothering you, sweetheart?”

You consider lying, but it’ll only make things worse. “Since this morning.”

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but your boyfriend’s stare beats that easily. “You ought to have told me,” he says in a low voice.

“It’s just a sore throat.” You roll your eyes. Remus makes a soft tsking sound that lets you know he’ll remember it.

“I have you talk to me about these things for a reason,” he says. “Do you know why that is?”

You’d really rather not enable him, but you’re trapped. You let your expression convey your reluctance. “Why?”

“Because I’d tell you,” he slips one hand beneath your top, thumb sweeping across your side in the way that softens you like butter, “not to drink when you’re coming down with something.”

“I don’t know if I am,” you say weakly.

“Hopefully not.” Remus smears a kiss across your forehead, reaching for his coat. “But if you are, we might still be able to avoid it if you let yourself rest. Y/N’s not feeling well,” he explains to Sirius when the other boy notices his preparations for departure. “I’m going to take her home.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you were sick,” James covers for his sour friend, who’s still looking like he might protest.

“I’m not,” you say, but Remus ushers you towards the door.

Lily gives you a kind look, glancing knowingly towards your boyfriend. “Feel better, love.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he placates his friends, placing his jacket over your shoulders. He opens the door for you, and seems all too prepared for the argument on the tip of your tongue when you step outside. “Don’t take off the jacket. You should have brought your own, but now that you’re sick I don’t want to risk weakening your immune system.”

“I’m not sick,” you insist, starting to shrug the jacket off despite his hands pinning it to you. “And it’s barely cold out here.”

Remus levels you with a look. “Keep it on.”

You huff but stop your attempts to remove the covering, trying not to notice how Remus has slowed his brisk pace to accommodate you. “Why did we have to leave?” you ask. “I’m not feeling that bad, really.”

“I figured you wouldn't want me looking down your throat with a flashlight in front of everyone.” You purse your lips, and Remus grins, wrapping an arm around you. He rubs your shoulder through the material of his jacket. “I’m looking out for you in more ways than one, dove,” he teases, “you can trust in that.”

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suashii · 15 days

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— 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ injuries ﾉ pet names ( darlin', sweetheart, doll :3 ) ﾉ mentions of food

so i wrote about horse riding but. . . know very little about horse riding! i did my best to research but there may be some details i got wrong so apologies in advance!

previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part

“that’s it, pretty girl, nice and easy.”

the horse beneath you sighs and you do the same, relaxation and contentment in the breath you let go of. it’s been a while since you’ve gone riding, a few years at least, but being sat on a saddle with reins in your hands feels as natural as it used to when you’d ride nearly every day of the summer. you’re lucky that your favorite mare—clover—is still healthy enough to take out.

you gently squeeze your legs into clover’s sides in a silent signal for her to move from a trot to a canter. the sequence of her hoof beats effortlessly switches from the two-beat gait to one of three beats and her pace quickens. the wind against your face is stronger now but you welcome the sensation, a small smile making its way to your face.

as a kid, riding was fun and exciting more than anything else but as you’ve grown into an adult, the activity has become something more cathartic—a release of sorts. your stress slips away when you’re on the saddle, lost in the summery breeze. you don’t allow a second for the thoughts that constantly nag at you to linger. all of your focus is granted to clover and the field ahead, to how you feel here and now and how you wish you could feel like this all the time.

unfortunately for you, nothing lasts forever.

you hear the dog before you see her, barking discernible in the distance. clover must, too, her ears pointing back to listen more closely to the sound approaching from behind. as the barking grows louder, the horse’s neck tenses, and it only takes a second more for her to decide that the noise is worth investigating. you’re in alert mode now, too—no, it’s probably closer to panic mode. it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about the horse getting spooked and even then you had your grandpa or parents to rely on to make sure nothing got out of hand.

you don’t have time to even think about what the right thing to do in this situation is before clover spots the dog bounding towards the both of you.

“clove—!” you try to calm her down, to let her know that the dog isn’t a threat that she should be scared of, but it’s far too late. before you can comprehend what’s happening, clover is rearing. the motion combined with your loose hold on the reins is enough to send you flying off the horse’s saddle. a scream is ripped from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut at being in the air, destined to fall.

you hit the ground with an audible thud.

pain courses through your body—your back, your shoulders, your head. everything hurts and hot tears spring to the corners of your eyes but they pool there, refusing to stream down your cheeks. despite all the pain, the growing soreness, you find your mind wandering. where did clover run off to? what was the dog doing out here alone? she rarely leaves the house by herself. someone is yelling, they’re calling your name. is it boothill?

“shit, little lady,” he shakily breathes, “you okay?”

relief washes over you and for a short second, you think that you’ve never been happier to hear the farmhand’s voice. it’s tinged with concern, a characteristic you have yet to see him display—especially for you. it doesn’t stop in his voice either, you can feel it in how he takes a hold of your shoulders, his grip firm but not tight enough to cause you any unnecessary pain.

you take the risk of finally opening your eyes and instead of being met with the sun’s blinding rays, boothill’s face crowds your vision. his eyebrows are pulled together and for once, there’s no smirk or grin playing at his lips. upon seeing that you’re conscious, the tension in boothill’s forehead lessens. “there she is.”

his voice is soft, like if he speaks too loud he’ll break you. though it’s unlike him to be so mindful, you appreciate what you imagine is the temporary change. he opens his mouth to continue but before he can get another word out, the border collie, missy, nudges between the two of you as if she senses something is wrong. boothill shoos her away before turning his attention back to you. “you okay? what happened?”

you think back on the moments that led to this—you laid out on your back in the grass. “missy… i think she scared clover. she threw me off.”

that’s right, you have no idea where she went after being so startled or if she’s okay, at that.

“where is clover?” you dart up into a sitting position, palms against the grass. it’s a bad idea and you face the consequences of it immediately, head throbbing and the dull pain throughout your limbs becoming all the more noticeable. you suck in a sharp breath in response to the discomfort but realize that the pain you’re in doesn’t top your concern for the horse. “is she still around here? i need to go find her.”

“woah, woah, woah, hold your horses.” boothill frowns. he stands up and holds both of his hands out to help you do the same. for once, you don’t think about the underlying meaning of having your hands touch his, you just grab a hold and let him pull you up. you turn your head in every direction you can in search of clover, readying to pick any of them to start walking in. though, you can’t, not with the way boothill is holding your hands hostage. his gray eyes bore into yours. “you aren’t going anywhere but to the hospital.”

“what? no.” you shake your head and try to pull away but boothill doesn’t budge. the longer he holds onto you, the more aware you become of his touch—how warm his hands are and how, even though they’re rough and calloused, his palms are more comforting than you care to admit. “i don’t need a hospital. i’m fine.”

“listen darlin’, people who have just been thrown off horses ain’t known for their good judgment.” he squeezes your hands but then seems to think better of it, loosening his grip but continuing to hold them. he gets his message across though, with the hand squeeze and the almost desperate look in his eyes. you’ve never seen him so uneasy, heard him speak so seriously. his new demeanor has your feet glued to their spot on the ground and your gaze glued to his. “you’re going to the hospital.”

you’re rarely one to jump at the opportunity to agree with boothill but maybe he’s right. you’re running on adrenaline right now and your mind isn’t in the best place—you’re worried about the wrong things. and if the topic is important enough to have boothill practically pleading with you, you should take it just as seriously as he is.

“fine, i’ll go, but you need to find clover before we do.” that came off a little more demanding than you meant it to. you add, “please.”

he clicks his tongue and groans before telling you, “alright, i’ll find your damn horse.”

● ● ●

boothill is a man of his word and tracks down clover, putting her back in the stable before whisking you away to the hospital. the ride there feels like a visit to the doctor itself with the way the farmhand practically interrogates you about your symptoms. he’s concerned but can’t help but laugh when you tell him that he’s exacerbating any head trauma you may have sustained by making you think so hard.

despite your initial resistance to boothill’s insistence on going to the hospital, you’re thankful for his urging. turns out he was right to be worried—you got a concussion.

your helmet helped soften the blow but the physician who explained your diagnosis still recommended a few days off work to rest and recover. it’s not the best news to receive but considering things could have been much worse, you’re grateful to walk away with a relatively minor injury.

and if your doctor had any anxiety about you ignoring his advice, it was misplaced. because boothill has personally made it his responsibility to be sure you get better.

as soon as the two of you arrived back at the house, he steered you into the living room, sat you on the couch, and disappeared into the kitchen with a demand for you to stay put. you’re tempted to argue but your head hurts too much so you cross your arms instead, closing your eyes and resting your head on the couch cushion.

it doesn’t take long for him to return and his hands are full when he does—a glass of water in one, an orange precariously rolling on a plate in the other, and a bottle of pain medication tucked under one of his arms. he sets the drink and pills on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside you, the dip in the cushion enough to make you open your eyes.

upon grabbing your attention, boothill jerks his head in that direction. “take a couple of those.”

you sit up and unscrew the bottle, shaking out two of the pills and popping them in your mouth before taking a few sips of the water he grabbed for you. a beat of silence passes before you speak up. “you know, i could have done all this myself.”

“i’m sure you could have,” he tells you with a grin, hands busy peeling the skin from the orange. it’s still all in one piece. impressive, you think, but you aren’t surprised. it seems like boothill is good at everything he does. “just thought you might enjoy having me at your beck and call.”

you frown. what does he think you are? some princess who needs a servant? “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothin’, darlin’.” he slides the plate of peeled orange slices across the coffee table so you can eat them when you’re ready. he wipes his hands on his jeans before standing up and stuffing them in his pockets.

the farmhand is on his way to the door when he says, “i’m off, but holler for me if you need anything, sweetheart.”

you never thought you’d see the day you would stop boothill from leaving.

“wait, before you go…” he stops and turns around, eyebrows slightly raised in silent question, urging you to go on. you had more courage to say what was on your mind when he wasn’t looking at you. though, you know it’s only right to let him know that you appreciate all he’s done for you today. so, you turn your gaze to the floor and let it spill out. “thank you for finding clover. and for taking me to the hospital. and for this.” you gesture to the fruit.

there’s a flash of sincerity that passes over his features before that annoying smile makes its way back to his lips. “so you can say thank you.”

you don’t know what kind of response you were expecting, but you should have seen this coming. it’s like he’s hardwired to tease you, even when you’re being genuine. “you can leave now, boothill.”

“yeah, yeah, i’ll get out of your hair.” in contradiction to his words, he stays put. and you can’t find it in you to be upset that he does because the humor has left his face, replaced by earnestness. “but you’re welcome, doll. it was really no trouble.”

he finally takes his leave and when you hear the door close, you let out a frustrated groan and lay your head back on the cushion. that nasty fall must have done more damage than you thought. why else would your heart be working overtime over a simple change of expression?

you shake your head to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts—thoughts of how generous and caring he actually might be—before you think better of the motion. it hurts your head and makes you wonder how long it’ll take before the pain pills kick in. they’ll probably work better if you have something on your stomach.

your eyes fall to the plate boothill left for you.

orange slices should do.

thank u for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are appreciated -`♡´-

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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explorevenus · 1 month

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doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be.

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together.

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further.

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes.

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to.

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh.

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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dindjarindiaries · 3 months

Text

Fight For Me

summary: When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

warnings: angst, strong language, mentions of trauma, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.175k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

You tugged on the hood of your poncho to conceal more of your face from view. “We’ve got a lot of eyes on us.”

“I told you.” Din’s modulated voice was low as he took a subtle step closer to your side. “We’re near Mandalorian Space.” You stole a glance over at him just in time to catch the quick tilt of his helmet. “The people out here aren’t fond of my kind.”

“I just…” You paused as the two of you passed another pedestrian, your chin and your gaze lowering until they were out of sight. “I thought you said Akiva was the first planet to pledge their allegiance to the New Republic.”

“They were.” Din’s gloved hand pulled into a fist at his side. You noticed it just as a bead of sweat began to trickle down your temple. “They wanted a change after years of the Empire ordering almost every Mandalorian warrior to do their bidding.”

“I see.” You exhaled and lifted your hand again to brush the sweat away. “It’s hot as hell here.”

Din huffed. “It’s known for its humidity.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet you let me wear this?” You gestured to the thick poncho that sat over your head and shoulders.

“Staying concealed is a bigger priority than staying cool. We won’t be here for long.” Din nodded towards a building on the right. “Here.”

You read the Aurebesh letters that hung overhead the building’s round entrance: cantina. That was the last place you wanted to be on a world where Din and his kind weren’t welcome, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It was your first, and so far your only, lead on finding the new location of whatever remained of Din’s covert.

Din led the way inside, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the chatter dimmed. Hushed voices spoke as Din wove the two of you through the tables and other crowds, carrying through the cantina until each voice rose back to its previous volume. You tightened your jaw and remained vigilant. Din may not have been worried about the actions of others, but you sure as hell were.

You stayed at Din’s side as he reached the bar, his gloved hands settling on top of it as he instantly gained the attention of the bartender. The Zabrak man tossed his hand towel on his shoulder and looked at Din expectantly. “What can I get started for you?”

Din reached into the pouch on his belt and set down a handful of credits. “Nothing to drink.” He slid the credits forward. “Just information.”

The bartender gave the pile of credits a cautious glance. “What makes you think I have something worth knowing?”

Din looked left and right before he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a much gruffer way than he would ever do with just you. “Nevarro.”

The bartender did the same gesture as Din before he secured his hand over the pile of credits. “Hold tight.” He pocketed the credits into his apron and nodded. “I’ve got something in the back.”

Din returned the nod, assuming his previous posture as the bartender disappeared into a back room. You crossed your arms and set them upon the top of the bar. Your voice was a hushed whisper as you spoke. “Do you believe him?”

Din shrugged. “We’ll see.” He exhaled, as if attempting to release some of the invisible weight that hung upon his armored shoulders. Your heart ached at the thought of it. “There’s no other option right now.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” A booming voice disrupted any thought you were going to voice in reply to Din. Your head turned as you observed the Klatooinian who stood behind the two of you. Your blood both ran cold and red-hot at the same time as you watched the Klatooinian snarl at Din’s back.

Din’s helmet didn’t move, his visor instead focusing ahead of himself as he tapped his gloved fingers against the bartop. Your gaze slid over to him as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t.

“You know what your kind did to us—to this entire system.” The Klatooinian scoffed, his guise of amusement failing in favor of his lethal anger. He raised an arm to gesture to the onlookers around them. “I speak for everyone here when I say we would take any chance we could get at killing you ourselves.”

“I don’t think your Republic would take kindly to that.” You couldn’t help yourself from biting out the words. Din’s visor slowly slid towards you, a silent warning you failed to heed.

The Klatooian’s vicious eyes found yours. He then laughed, a grating sound that stung you and made you curl your hands into fists on the bartop. “You’re on the wrong side of the planet if you want New Republic support, dustbreather.”

Din tensed at the insult the Klatooinian threw at you, but he still didn’t speak. Of course he wants to defend me more than himself.

The Klatooinian had since set his attention back on Din. “Your kind was eliminated for a reason.” He took another step closer to Din’s back. Your fists tightened even more, until the leather on your hands groaned in protest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your gaze burned through the side of Din’s helmet. His visor faced you as he gave his helmet a small shake, but you were already blinded by your rage. His way was not your way.

“Peel that armor off and what are you?” The Klatooinian scoffed and took one more step closer. “Nothing but a man who should’ve died with the rest of his—.”

You lunged in a movement so quick not even Din could have stopped it as you slammed your fist as hard as you could against the Klatooinian’s jaw. The entire cantina roared as every eye settled on you, especially as you shook out your stinging hand and faced the Klatooinian who was barely still standing. Din had whipped around at your side, but even he was frozen as you sized up the Klatooinian.

“Oh, you bitch!” the Klatooinian seethed as he swung towards you. You skillfully dodged his blow and elbowed his ribs, using the opportunity to hit him with an uppercut. The commotion amongst the onlookers rose more and more as you evaded the Klatooinian’s hits and dealt him more of your own.

It was all a blur of blood, sweat, and hot fury until two arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you tight against a beskar barrier. You fought against the grasp, the hood of your poncho having long since fallen away from your face as you swung towards the Klatooinian who had to be supported by his peers. “Fuck you!” you spat at your opponent. “You haven’t gotten even half of what you deserve!”

You tried to push off of Din to lunge at him again, but Din’s grasp only got tighter as he pulled you back to him. “Easy,” his modulated voice gently warned you.

“That man deserves to be dead!” The Klatooinian points a weary finger in Din’s direction.

You fought Din’s grasp again, pushing even harder against him that time. “I’ll show you who deserves to be—!”

Din forced you against himself so hard that it stole the air from your lungs for a moment. “Easy, cyar’ika.” The lip of his helmet was just beside your ear as he went on. “That’s enough.” He freed one arm from your waist to hold the wrist of your bleeding hand, forcing your arm behind you. “We have to go.”

His words made you snap out of your state of bloodlust as you turned your head around to face his helmet. “But we haven’t gotten your information.”

“Doesn’t matter. Half this cantina wants to fight you, and…” Din paused, his grasp easing on your wrist as he looked down at your hand, “you’re bleeding.” His voice lowered in worry.

“I’m fine.” You faced your opponent with indignance again. “I can take them.”

“No.” The arm Din still had around your waist gave you a gentle yet firm tug away from the growing crowd around the Klatooinian. “We’re leaving.”

Trying to argue with Din about that would be a losing battle, and so you sighed and started to follow him out. Before you could get far, someone whistled from the bar area. Din’s visor locked on something behind you, and when your gaze followed it, you found the bartender nodding at Din before tossing something in the air. Din released you only to catch it. He then returned the Zabrak’s nod and continued on.

“What is it?” Your curiosity got the best of you even as you and Din had to shoulder your way out of the rowdy cantina.

“Coordinates.” Din put your hood back over your head for you and led the way onto the street.

You furrowed your brow and cradled your stinging knuckles. “To where?”

“We’ll find out.” Din was clearly navigating for another specific place as he wove you through the fray. With the adrenaline of your fight still pumping through your veins, it was hard for you to focus, and that was something Din had no doubt picked up on.

Still, there was a more sickly sensation that prickled at you like a thousand icy needles, the chill of it settling inside your chest even amidst the humidity of the planet. You made your concerns known in a voice much quieter than you would have liked. “Are you upset with me?”

You earned no response. Din’s visor continued to look from building-to-building, and he moved at a pace that was getting difficult to keep up with. The needles turned into one sharp blade that sliced through your heart as you ultimately stopped in your tracks.

“You’re upset with me.”

Din stopped just a few paces ahead of you, but in an instant, he had closed the distance between you again. For a moment, his gloved hands cradled your face. “No. Not at all.” His helmet lifted in realization of your surroundings, his hands soon following as they settled on your shoulders instead. “I just… I want to get you somewhere safe.” He shifted his weight between his feet. “Now.”

“Here?” You lifted your brow in surprise. “Didn’t you hear what that guy said?” You shook your head at him. “Anyone here would kill you if they could.”

“But they won’t, because they can’t, and they know it.” Din tilted his helmet at you. “I told you these people aren’t fond of me, not that they’re a threat to me.” He nodded at your bruising hands. “Especially with you here to back me up.”

You began to smile at that. Din gave your shoulders a squeeze and turned away from you to continue on through the town. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a reliable source of lodging with a business owner who wouldn’t turn down any customer, not even a Mandalorian. He navigated the two of you once more to your own quarters and stepped through the threshold first only to be sure he could observe the room for threats before you followed.

As soon as the door was closed and secured behind you, Din slipped off his helmet and set it aside, his hands reaching for your face once again. This time, Din didn’t have to worry about eyes on you, and so he leaned fully into you and the bliss you two could share by pinning you between himself and the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your arms wrapped around Din’s neck to keep him close as his mouth slotted over yours time and time again, his tongue lavishing praises onto you without having to speak a single word. You met his familiar rhythm with each movement, a pattern as familiar as your own heartbeat that thudded against your chest. It was a moment where the stinging in your hands faded and the worries of what Din thought dissipated completely.

He was making it clear how he felt about the situation, and you wanted to keep feeling it—at all costs.

Eventually, though, your lungs cried out for air, forcing your mouths to separate even as Din stayed close. His gaze, sparkling with affection even amidst his worry for you, found your own as he forehead rested against yours. His voice was a mere rasp from both its quietness and his lack of breath. “Thank you for defending my honor.” His thumb ran over your lips.

You smiled and kissed the pad of his thumb. “You never have to thank me for that.”

“I know.” Din returned your smile and brushed his lips against yours. “But I will anyway.” He kissed you again, but this time, he kept it brief. His concern no doubt got the best of him as he pulled away and lifted his hands to hold your wrists. He pulled them away from his neck and studied your hands, his smile transforming into a worried grimace. “Let’s take care of this.”

You continued to beam at him. “Sure.”

Din set one hand over your lower back as the other kept its gentle grasp on your wrist. He led you over to the single bed in the room, and you took your place on the edge of it, sitting just beside Din’s helmet. Din disarmed himself of his spear and jetpack before reaching into the pouch of medical supplies on his belt.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” You started by taking the leather off your hands, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from groaning at the way it tugged at your angry skin.

Din huffed, raising his brow in amusement as he took the pieces of leather from you and set them aside. “You’re almost as bad at lying as I am.”

You laughed at that, making room for him to sit beside you as he took one of your hands in his and started to work. Din began with your dominant hand, which was more beat-up than your other hand. You spoke to him as he worked, hoping it would ease some of the tension that knit his armored shoulders together. “How would you rate that fight?”

Din paused and looked at you with a wrinkled brow. “What do you mean?”

You offered him a mischievous smile. “I mean, how did I do?”

Din blinked at you for a moment. “How did you do?” He chuckled and shook his head, focusing on your hand again even as he responded. “Cyar’ika, he was barely conscious standing up.”

“So?” You tilted your head at him and smiled sweetly. “What do you rate it, then?”

Din smiled to himself while he traded a tube of bacta for a secure wrap. “There are no words for it.”

“Oh.” You feigned disappointment and looked away from him, your gaze settling on his empty helmet that was still nearby. “How else will you tell me your rating, then?”

Din’s gaze flickered up at you, but only for a moment. “I have ideas.” He lifted your bandaged knuckles to his lips and left a gentle kiss upon them before he exchanged that hand for your other one. “But finishing this is my priority.”

The sweet warmth of overwhelming affection and desire burned throughout your chest,and you gave yourself a few moments to recover from its powerful effects. Once you had waited long enough, you spoke in a softer voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” When Din’s brow lifted in confusion, you elaborated. “To that guy at the cantina.”

Din sighed, his jaw tightening before he loosened it again. “You know me. I’m… not a man of many words.” He exchanged the bacta for another clean wrap. “I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words, anyway.” Din gave you an amused look. “You just beat me to it.”

You smiled to yourself. “I guess that’s what makes us a good match.”

“It’s one of many things.” Din paused to focus as he circled the wrap around your hand. “The way you can throw punches is…” Din had to stop again, but this time, his gaze raised to the ceiling as if he was summoning composure from some unknown source. You chuckled at him as he exhaled a soft breath and looked at your hand again. “It’s an advantage.”

You teased him by looking at him through your lashes, blinking them slowly as he finished with your hand and allowed his gaze to meet yours. “Yeah?”

Din lifted his hand towards his lips without breaking your shared gaze. “Yeah.” He kissed your bandaged knuckles and lowered your hand. His eyes studied it as he nodded in sudden severity. “Truly, cyar’ika, what you did… it means a lot.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never had someone fight for me like that. No one except…” He trailed off. He didn’t have to say the name.

You raised the bandaged hand he wasn’t holding to caress the side of his face. Din’s gaze met yours again, and the deep admiration within it was breathtaking—but so was the deep longing hidden behind it. When you spoke, your voice was quiet yet meaningful. “I miss him, too.”

Din closed his eyes and nodded. After a long pause, he reopened his eyes and tasked himself with putting his medical supplies back in his belt. He exchanged them for the coordinates the bartender had given him. “Knowing the covert, this probably leads to the system they’re hiding in.” Din returned to business and you met him there, nodding at him to agree with his words. “It’ll take some more work to find out exactly where they are.”

“That’s fine.” You set a hand on his cuisse as you smiled in reassurance. “I’m with you every step of the way.”

Din’s gaze drifted from your hand on his armored thigh to your own eyes as he returned your smile. “I know.” He put the coordinates back in his belt and let his expression morph into something more mischievous as he faced you again. “So.” He cleared his throat, and you giggled at his clumsiness. He was smoother than you could have ever expected at some times, but this wasn’t one of them. “About that rating.”

You laughed, lifting your bandaged hands to the sides of his face to bring him closer to you. “You can just kiss me.”

Din chuckled with you until his amused breath became your own, one action that led to a long string of others proving exactly how grateful and proud he was of your actions that day.

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

#bar fight but make it ~reverse~ because din deserves someone to fight for him #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #dindjarindiaries

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dungeonpuppykai · 3 months

Text

|| Magic ||

Description: One in which Rafe shows you his talent for making his fingers disappear in mysterious places of your body.

Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron | Naive!You.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rafe Cameron. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. For what it may be worth, Rafe and reader are very much adults. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dubcon (only to be safe), Dark!Rafe, naive!Reader, dumbification/infantilization, fingering, manipulation, corruption kink, daddy kink, coercion, allusions to plushie grinding, Rafe smokes, slight dacryphilia, childhood friends trope.

Note: So, uh, I am supposed to be working on my research paper lmfao. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

Your neighbor and childhood friend Rafe claims he knows magic.

"No, you don't!" You giggle at him, playfully swinging your caterpillar stuffie in his general direction as you patter your feet in the tiny puddle that keeps gathering and retreating on the tail of one of the many yachts his family owns.

Rafe is very nice.

He is always buying you candies, plushies and pretty dresses even though you try your best to decline.

Then when he isn't busy, he takes you on a spin on one of the many expensive vehicles that he owns.

He always has.

He says he likes to take care of you.

"What, you don't believe me?" Rafe has to squint his eyes against the evening sun as he turns his head to look at you, one hand subconsciously reaching out to adjust one of the silky pink ribbons that is part wrapped around and part mixed with the two half pigtails in which you are wearing your hair.

"When and where did you learn this magic?" You are not convinced at all. "All of a sudden out of nowhere, pfft…!" You mutter as you shake your head, snorting at the absurdity.

The devious and dark glint that appears in Rafe's eye goes unnoticed by you. "Now don't go laughing at me like that, bunny" there is a warning in his tone and you can't help but instantly whimper like the fiddle you are. "You know I don't like it when you act like that" he moves in a little, the menace of the action making you gulp even though he would never hurt you.

He never has.

"S- Sorry, Rafey…" He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

Uh oh, he's unhappy now.

There will be consequences sooner or later.

"No can do" he lights himself a cigarette and you can't help but pout a little. The smell makes you cough and you don't like it when he does that. But you know better than to condemn him because you remember the one and only time you did it all too well. "You acted like I was a liar or something, bunny" his free hand reaches for your thigh and softly drags up and down along its length. "Now I must prove myself, no?"

Your heartbeat has quickened up already. You don't exactly know why, but it always does whenever Rafe gets too close or touches you a certain way. "Y- Yes, Rafey…" You don't really know what else to say.

"Good girl" the way he says it makes you blush. "Now, as I was saying…" The dress you're wearing is one of his favorites. He had gotten you it last year but he always demanded– no no, requested that you wear it over and over. "I can make my fingers disappear between your legs" you cough a little due to his exhale as you hold your stuffie out of the way to allow him easier access to yourself.

Rafe says best friends can be naked in front of each other, it's not a big deal.

You trust him because he's always right and only means well.

"But, how!" You bite your lip when he bunches the hem of your dress around your waist and caresses your bunny part with the back of his hand since he took your underwear off when you got on the yacht. Rafe says it's important to let it air out every once in a while. Truly, your best friend is so nice and takes such good care of you! "There is no place for it to vanish!" As always, your voice wavers in reaction to his touch.

You feel strange things whenever he touches you between your legs, or on your bummy or your boobsies.

But Rafe says it's a good thing, because that proves that you really love him.

The male tsks. "Have some faith, will you, bunny?" Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he cups your bunny part and squishes your intimate lips open with the help of his thumb. "That's where the magic comes in" your mouth parts as you lean back, moving your arms behind you and placing your palms flat against the floor of the yacht. "See, you're healthily wet, bunny. This is why you need to minimize wearing pants, because your body is at its best when you don't" your slick coats his digit as he glides it over your folds.

"Y- Yes, Rafey…" You whimper shakily, feeling a tremble arise in your elbows. "B- But… it's not disappearing, yuno…" He scoffs and rolls his eyes at that.

"That's because I haven't started yet, silly" he locks the nicotine stick between his lips as he reaches for Miss Caty -your stuffie- and places it right in front of where his finger meets your bunny part. "Tsk, just so impatient, aren't we?" Now he changes the finger he has been teasing you with by adjusting his hand around you. "Say, don't you agree Miss Caty should also see this magic trick?"

Your throat is dry and mouth parched. "Y- Yes Rafey–" your words are forced to halt when he clicks his tongue repeatedly in obvious disapproval.

"You can do better than that, bunny~" you cough a little due to the smoke again.

"S- Sorry…"

"Sorry, what?" He raises an eyebrow and you nearly jump out of your skin at a strange and almost painful probe that some unknown area of your bunny part receives.

"D- Daddy…!" You whine out, knowing better than to complain. Rafey says good girls don't fuss with their Daddies. "Sorry, Daddy…"

"That's my girl~" discarding the burnt out butt of the cigarette, he lights himself another with his free hand while massaging your soaking flesh.

He only continues once he's done with fixing himself another cigarette, the stick propped in a corner of his mouth as he exhales through his nose. "Now," his free hand grasps one of your half pigtails in it to guide your head in the right direction. "Watch…" Your chin presses into the area between your collarbones as your head is forced oceanward.

Your eyes widen and mouth parts when his middle finger circles an opening you cannot quite see, a dull ache forming in your bunny part when his digit dips downwards and causes a strange noise in your moist nether regions before it starts to move in and true to Rafe's word, begins to disappear.

"Daddy!" You gasp, one hand reaching to snatch his idle onr as you wince. "O- Owie!" Your eyes well up in shock and discomfort.

Hell, you didn't even know such a place existed in your body!

"It's okay, bunny~" his coo morphs into a low groan when he hits you knuckle deep, unable to intrude you any further. "It's alright, just like that, you're doing so good."

"B- But… h- hurts, Daddy" as Rafe's finger slowly pulls out only to repeat its prior action, your bottom lip wobbles and cheeks wetten with thick, hot tears.

"I know, my sweet little bunny, I know" his free hand cups the side of your face to caress your cheek lovingly, the action causing you to tighten yourself around his finger. "But that's only because you're such a good and precious little girl" you softly cough due to the close proximity between you and his dangling nicotine stick. It makes you clench again and Rafe can't hold back his groan this time. "Come on, don't you trust me, hm?" His voice is rushed when your eyes release more tears.

You sniffle and nod. "D- Do, Daddy…"

"Good, then know that this is something very fun and more than just a magic trick…" His digit starts to gain pace. "Remember how weird you felt when you went jolly riding on Mr. Huggies for the first time?" Your face flushes harder at the mention but you nod obediently. "But you love doing that now, don't you?" A shaky whimper escapes you as you can't help but reminisce the odd, throat tightening and ear numbing climax that always comes after you hump your favorite teddy and just how good it feels every time, the thought making you clench once more. "Come on now, use your words" his lulls are lazy as he connects his thumb to the hood of your clit, swiping it across the flesh horizontally.

Stars are beginning to form in your vision already. "Y- Yes, Daddy. Yes…" Your back arches when his finger reaches a foreign point within your cavern and you moan out loud. "Oh, yes, Daddy! F- Feels so good! L- Love doing it!"

Rafe can't help but bite down on the butt of his cigarette as he wordlessly marvels at how perfect you look all disheveled and pearl skinned due to the orange sun hitting its sweat decorated pigment in the most breathtaking way.

All because of him.

The trembling of your legs is just the sweet cherry on top.

"Buck up, now~" his voice always adds to the pressure that builds between your hips whenever you two play like this. It doesn't matter what he says, your body just melts in reaction to how big and authoritative it sounds. "Come on, let go for Daddy" you moan and throw your head back. As though your body has developed a mind of its own all of a sudden, you feel your hips start to grind against his finger.

"OH!" Your squeak nearly bounces off the mountains that are on one side of the yacht, your hole squelching loudly at receiving another finger inside it. "Oh, Daddy!" Your toes curl and pussy lips vibrate because of how fast he's going now, the swiping of his thumb bringing you to a climax much stronger and satisfying than all of your old ones combined.

"Good bunny, let go for Daddy, he will take care of you~" your arms give out and you collapse against your back, spasming on the yacht floor as you can't help but scream out loud when hypersensitivity kicks in regardless of how euphoric the feeling is. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as momentary vitiligo forms in your ears, your blood revolting its way through your heart with each hammering beat.

Your back curls and you clench as you move towards recovery, everything happening way too quickly and all at once due to your lack of experience. Rafe prohibits your legs from coming together by holding them apart with his free hand, dark need swimming in his eyes as he stares at you, fingers fucking your orgasm out. The breeze has brought your dress all the way up to your neck and your braless erect nipples are staring back at Rafe; teasing and inviting him.

"See?" He speaks once you have somewhat calmed down and he has plopped his fingers out of your tight cavern. "Wasn't that some great fucking magic, huh?" You tiredly nod your head at him, whimpering out a smile as you sensitively grip his hand that is palming one of your breasts with both of yours.

"Y- Yes, Daddy." Your yawn makes him chuckle and he retreats his hand only to slide his arms under your sprawled form to gather it between them.

"Aw, tired already, bunny?" You softly giggle when he stands up holding you bridal style. "But I haven't even shown you all my tricks yet" you have no idea why but a shudder escapes you at that. Rafe bends down to pick Miss Caty up and place her on your tummy before he makes his way towards the cabins. "Don't you think she liked my magic, bunny?" He refers to the stuffie as he nods in its direction. "I think she liked it."

You submissively nod before agreeing. "Y- Yes, Daddy."

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

WORTH THE WAIT — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu forgets about the date you’ve had planned and he wants to show you he’s sorry in a rather unconventional way.

wc. 1.8k

warning. unprotected sex, couch sex, dumbification, lots of apologizing, big d!ck!gyu (ofc), kinda angsty but it’s all resolved, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. this idea was sent by my beloved 🌵 anon… like…. literal months ago lol— it was a drabble at first, then it got a bit too long, so enjoy it xx [not proofread, kinda shitty]

contrary to belief, kim mingyu does have a few faults. he can be a bit clumsy and he’ll accidentally eat your leftovers every time he’s over, but the biggest fault of them all is… he can be a bit forgetful.

so when mingyu accidentally double books hanging out with wonwoo on the same night as your date, you find yourself dolled up and waiting around your apartment for him, unaware of his whereabouts. you hadn’t seen him much due to your conflicting schedules and you’d been looking forward to the date all week long.

you wait and wait— 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour. you text him a few times, but you don’t get a response and you figure he’s at work, asleep, or doing something else. whatever the case may be, he definitely forgot.

mingyu doesn’t realize this until he’s checking his phone for the first time of the hectic game night and he sees a string of text messages from you.

from you 6:33

i can’t wait to see u!! :,)

from you 7:07

hi babyyy, text me when you’re here and i’ll come down

from you 7:39

gyu are you still coming?

if you wanna reschedule, we can… just text me back and let me know?

from you 8:02

i checked ur location to make sure u weren’t dead and i saw you were at woo’s

i’m just gonna assume ur with him, which is fine :) pls just let me know next time.

shit.

shit shit shit.

regardless of what you say, it’s not fine— he can practically hear your dejected voice through the text and the smiley face doesn’t do shit to mask it.

he’s quick to tell wonwoo and make his way to your place, insides churning at the thought of you feeling stood up. he would never, in a million years, ever want to hurt you in any way.

he doesn’t text he’s here, he doesn’t knock, he just takes the spare key hidden under your placemat and lets himself in.

you’re curled up on the couch in your date outfit watching some random show before you jolt at the sound of your door being unlocked. when mingyu walks in, panic on his face, you deflate a bit, internally thanking the universe that it was just him and not some intruder.

“baby…”

you try to put a smile on as if he isn’t the last person you wanted to see at the moment, but mingyu sees through it.

“hi, gyu.” you say curtly. “hope you had fun at wonwoo’s tonight.”

the subtle shade proves you’re upset, even if you had said it unconsciously. his lips turn down in a frown and he walks around the couch so he’s posted right in front of you.

“Y/N, you have to believe me— i’m so sorry. i got the days—“

you cut him off with a sigh, “gyu, seriously. it’s fine. it’s not that big of a deal. we can just do something the next time you’re free.”

he doesn’t even know when next time will be given his rather strenuous schedule and you know that, yet those words come out of your mouth anyway. he huffs softly and takes a seat next to you, intertwining your hands into his.

“baby, please,” he whispers. “you know i would never stand you up on purpose. i lost my mind and got the days mixed up– please let me make it up to you.”

you shrug, avoiding eye contact. you want to stay mad, but the way he’s looking at you… the way he’s holding your hands… it’s making it impossible not to melt into a helpless puddle. “how?” you ask meekly.

he doesn’t say anything, letting go of your hands in favor of cupping your cheek and pulling you in. his soft lips meet yours and you practically forget why you’re angry to begin with. his tongue quickly finds its way into your mouth and your soft moan eases his nerves a bit.

he pulls back, leaving you warm and fuzzy and a bit needy for more of him. he finally takes you in when his eyes open. you’re still in a pretty little outfit– presumably, one you’d picked out for your date– and it makes him groan a little bit.

“you look so pretty, baby. you wore this all for me?”

you nod your head slowly. “i was really excited to show you…”

he frowns, “i know, i’m sorry… i’m so, so sorry,” he mumbles and you don’t say anymore, simply nodding your head at his apology. his lips are on yours again, rougher this time. it’s like he’s trying to prove just how sorry he is with every passing second.

and when he breaks the kiss again, you whine. “gyu…”

“wanna take this off. can i?” he asks, referring to your dress and you just nod again.

his hands find the hem, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in your even prettier set. the black lace adorns your body and mingyu feels his pants tighten at the mere sight.

he’s breathless when the pet name falls from his lips, “baby…”

he’s so glad you didn’t change, but he feels like such an idiot for fucking up this bad. he wishes he checked his phone earlier, he wishes he remembered your date was tonight, he wishes he could’ve taken you out in your gorgeous dress and brought you back home to see the even more gorgeous set underneath.

but he’ll make up for it. he’ll spend all the time in the world doing so if he needs to.

he stands to his feet pulling his shorts off and revealing his aching cock. you bite your lip and slide down so your back and head are comfortably on the cushion of your couch, eyes trained on his huge length.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, rolling them down your legs and leaving your now-wet cunt bare.

“so beautiful… so fuckin’ beautiful angel, can… can i keep going?”

you whimper and wordlessly nod again, brain unable to give him a verbal response. he grunts, joining you back on the couch by getting in between your legs.

“tell me when…” he whispers, aligning himself with your hole before pressing his fat cock into you. “fuck, so tight…”

the burning stretch of your walls opening to take him makes your head spin a bit. no matter how many times he fucks you, it always hurts.

at first, at least, because now he’s balls deep in your pulsing cunt and all you can feel is blinding pleasure. the burn and stretch have subsided and your brain has turned to complete and utter mush.

you clench around him tightly and he has to ask, “are you good, baby?”

you dumbly nod– it’s all you can do– but mingyu can’t help but feel more anxiety fill his body. you’ve barely said any words to him and it makes him worry that you won’t forgive him.

you moan when his cock leaves just for it to suddenly fill you back up with a single, sharp thrust. this is how it starts before he’s moving faster and faster.

words still fail to leave your mouth, just cute gasps and clipped moans, but mingyu can’t seem to stop breathy apologies from leaving his own. “‘m sorry… you know that right, angel? ‘m so sorry.”

and your eyes just roll back, ignoring his apologies as you’re all consumed by his massive cock fucking in and out of you. mindless babbles escape your lips and it’s not till then does mingyu realize how brainless you’ve become.

it makes his heart clench. you’ve never gotten like this for him before and he knows it’s a result of being left to your own devices for far too long. he knows he hasn’t been there for you, knows you haven’t been able to cum properly in god knows how long and it hurts him. it hurts him so fucking bad.

and, to be transparent, he’s missed you more than you know.

his hand finds your abdomen, pressing down so he can feel himself thrusting into you. in doing so, his thumb reaches your clit and this seems to bring some life to you. “gyu!” you cry. “feels s’good!”

he lets out an elated chuckle at the sound of your voice, “yeah? it feels good, angel?”

and it’s almost like you read his mind with your next words. “s-so good, m-missed you.”

a guttural groan erupts in his throat and he starts to fuck you harder– to fuck you deeper– and the thumb on your clit moves quicker, effectively stimulating the swollen bud. “me too– fuck, missed you so much. missed fucking this pretty pussy so much, baby, you don’t even know.”

your face pinches together in pleasure and you clamp his dick harder at the affirmation. “i-i’m–” you let out a gaspy whine and mingyu knows exactly what it means.

“gonna cum?” he finishes your broken sentence.

you nod eagerly, eyebrows knit together as you feel the formed knot in your tummy get tighter and tighter. “gyu–”

he shushes, thrusts growing erratic. his voice is hot and breathy and you can tell, just by the sound of it, he’s just as close as you are. “just cum for me, baby– need you to let go ‘n cum all over my cock. you can do it.”

you cry, body going taut as you cream all over him, pussy trapping him between your pulsing, velvet walls. mindlessly, you babble out some words that he can barely make out, but the second he hears those three words– i love you, said in your cute, pitchy voice– his worries wash away.

he’s overcome by love and the feeling of you gripping him for dear life and the only thing he can do is press his hips flush against yours and fill you up the way he knows you need. his cum paints your walls, fulfilling the craving you didn’t even know you had.

“god,” he moans, panting out, cock still twitching between your spasming walls. “please forgive me, angel. i promise i’ll be better ‘n make more time for you”

part of your mind finds its way back to you after a few seconds and you can’t help but giggle at his words. “i forgave you after you kissed me, babe.”

he smiles, large hands caressing your body, “really?”

you hum, hazy eyes taking him in, “mmh, you’re really hard to be mad at, you know that, right?”

“good ‘cus i don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“well, then don’t do stupid things.”

he whines, “baby, you know that’s impossible for me, stupidity is practically in my dna.”

you giggle at the joke. “i know… but… i won’t be so nice to you next time you decided to hang out with wonwoo instead of taking me out.”

“you can be as mean to me as you want, baby, but i swear, i’ll never stand you up ever again.”

“good.” you smile back at him. “now… maybe you can prove how sorry you are again? in my bed this time?”

#mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut

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eternalwritess · 4 months

Text

I may know someone - Platonic!Alastor & tech demon!reader + Vox x tech demon!reader

Summary: Vox is holding a grudge against the hotel and refuses to air the commercial that they created. But Alastor has someone in mind who might just be able to help...

"I always knew Vox was petty," Alastor hummed picking at his nails. He wasn't pleased to say the least. Not about the commercial of course, if it was possible for him to care less about it then he would. But rather with Vaggie at his door demanding that he do something about it, along with Charlie's pleading eyes trying to calm Vaggie so she could try and convince Alastor.

Quite honestly he didn't know what they thought he could do. He was injured for crying out loud. His wound from Adam still hurt like a truck and not to mention that he and Vaggie made a deal so he wouldn't have to deal with the picture box anymore.

"Please Al, I won't ask anything else of you!" Charlie begged bouncing on the tips of her feet whilst still attempting to hold Vaggie back, although with their wings it was getting harder as she would flap them out constantly.

"You shouldn't lie dear, isn't that an unholy quality?" He asked with some hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Alastor just try and fix it alright, we built this whole hotel and-" Alastor cut Vaggie off with an influx of static.

"Didn't we make a deal about this my dear?"

Vaggie paused for a moment before sighing and walking away leaving Charlie.

"Please, Alastor," She paused for a moment looking at him. "We really need this right now alright? Besides just think about it, more sinners means more entertainment for you if thats what you want," She said slowly walking over into him room before stopping once he glanced at her.

"Besides just think of all the fun you would have watching me uh," She paused thinking for a moment. "Struggle to rehabilitate sinners!" She added throwing up her arms in the air as a punctuation to her sentence.

Alastor sighed and met her eyes. "I really can't do anything dear, I only control the radio and besides, I doubt that rabble box will even listen to me. I don't know how to work this," he made a wild gesture with his hand. "Frivolous new technology works,"

His smile grew tight with disgust. "Its not worth the trouble anyways," he huffed and looked over to the side.

Charlie sighed and glanced away. "Fine, thats reasonable I guess," She groaned and smoothed down her wrinkled hair and began walking out the door.

"I wonder if dad would help me with this," she muttered as she walked along. Now that was something Alastor just couldn't have. He grit his teeth and tapped his staff onto the ground disappearing into shadow and reappearing in front of Charlie.

"Now now dear I didn't say I wouldn't help you-"

"You basically did though-"

Alastor put his finger in front of her mouth shushing her. "It is rude to interrupt don't you know?" He took his hand back and set it on his staff.

"I do know someone who might be able to help in our little endeavor. Rosie adores her quite so and I think that she might just be interested in this. Besides she is an old friend of mine," He explained bending down and smiling even wider.

It's been a while since he's seen you. He'd like to visit you after all and this would stick it to Lucifer and Vox. He's winning on all three sides of the coin.

"Well then! Can I meet her?"

"Patience Charlotte, come, come now. The place where she lives is quite dangerous indeed. It would be a shame for you to be harmed there,"

He hummed and walked her out the hotel. "You'll need to stay by me at all times. Do you understand?"

She nodded and Alastor nodded with her. "Good girl,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You spun around in your chair. This was the fifth time today. If anyone else came into your office proclaiming they they needed your help you were gonna flip.

You weren't an overlord. But damn did you manage this side of the pentagram. A space so fucked that not even the strongest overlord would set their sights here. Too much work for not enough profit you would say. Honestly? You would agree if you weren't somewhat attached to this rancid place.

Knock knock.

You gripped your desk and groaned mentally, bracing yourself for whoever was at the door next.

"I swear to god Susan call me again for your fucking cat and I will shove it's claws up your-" You opened the door with a shout and stopped upon seeing a familiar red color scheme.

"Alastor- holy shit!" You laughed and stepped back. "Sorry for the shouting, its been a..." You trailed off and sighed shaking your head. "Rather stressful day," You snapped your fingers electricity from them instantly snapping on the lights to emit a warm glow from them.

Behind him was someone with blonde hair and red eyes and a red suit. God was there a lot of red going on here. "Who's this?" you asked gesturing over to her. "Looks nice, didn't know she was your type," You laughed before shaking your head not allowing Alastor to react.

"I'm kidding, I know you've got an ace up there," you laughed tugging at his sleeve before letting it go.

Alastor paused for a moment. "What?"

You moved on giggling. "Come on introduce her, Rosie would have your head for behavior like this," you laughed and grabbed the girl's hand.

"This is Charlotte Morningstar! Princess of hell and owner of the delusional establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel!" He said patting 'Charlotte's' head.

"You can call me Charlie," She quickly corrected. You nodded and bent down bowing down to her and raising her hand slightly above your head.

"Pleasure to meet you your highness, what can I do for you today. After all I doubt you come here on pleasantries," you gestured outside to where a few demons were about to have either an orgy or a torture scene. You pulled them in further shutting the door and closing the windows.

"Well you see I've been having a bit of trouble lately. Well see this man, Vox, refuses to air the commercial I made for my hotel. So I was wondering if you could possibly do something about it," She offered. She smiled warmly and you looked over to Alastor.

"Vox isn't really..." You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "Do you want me to talk with him? Cause I don't know him besides that fact that his tech is nothing more than flashy shit," you explained.

"No, no, no, no, well I mean... I just want my commercial aired, I can pay you if you'd like," She offered.

You paused and shook your head glancing over to Alastor. "What do you think that I can do?" you asked tilting your head over to him. Of course he would bring her to you, what else were you expecting.

"Well you can infiltrate Vox and his filthy lair! Get the commercial up and running!" He said with a swing of his arm.

You groaned and sat down in your chair. "Really? And how do you suppose I'm even gonna get close enough to do such a thing?"

"Why my dear you'll only have to do a flick of a wrist, I doubt that Vox knows he's not the only one with powers like yours," he said and gestured over to you grandly, as if introducing you all over again.

With a sigh you looked over to Charlie. Money didn't really mean shit here, besides you knew better than to say no to Alastor. Friends be damned, if he wanted something you had to give it to him unless you had a good reason which, you really didn't. Other than you just didn't want to of course.

"Alright then, I don't need to get paid though, just puts a target on my back-"

"Alrighty then!" Alastor was cut off by you.

"But, you're getting me over there. Got it smiles?" You asked looking over to him. His grin grew tight and you felt your grow at that.

"Of course, it would be unkindly of me if not,"

Charlie squealed and grabbed your hand pulling you up and giving you a hug. "Thank you! Thank you ! Thank you! Thank you so much! I will not forget this, I swear!" She was bouncing up and down as you laughed and slowly pushed her away.

"Alright, don't get too happy about it. I still don't know if I can do it,"

"Don't worry, if any demon in this wretched realm can do it its you," Alastor said giving you a half pat on the head before you swiped his hand away.

"Alright then, so when do you want me to do this?" You asked.

"Oh take your time-"

"Now would be preferred. Here I'll even lead you," Alastor said grabbing you and pulling you in by the hook of your arm. You stumbled over and glared at him playfully a grin forming across your lips as you gaining your footing.

"What about the princess?" You pointed over to Charlie who was bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"Oh we can stop by the hotel on our way over, don't worry y/n,"

You laughed and looked over to Charlie. "Oh my god, I didn't tell you my name!" You laughed and stuck your hand out once more. "Y/n,"

She shook your hand and smiled. "Don't worry about it, besides I'm sure Al would've told me it,"

You nodded and turned over to Alastor. "Alright then, lead the way,"

To call the hotel a giant eyesore might be an understatement. It was clear that Alastor didn't design the thing whether that be for good or for worse. It's lights basically dissected your eyes into thousands of tiny little pieces.

God was it bright.

"So the V's are what they're called then?" You asked brushing off tiny specks of dust on your shoulder. You just had a conversation with someone named Angel and god did it feel wrong.

"Yes! They're quite incompetent though, nothing you need to worry about," He said patting your head once more. You groaned mentally at the gesture and watched as he spun his microphone around.

"Really? Aren't they overlords?" You questioned further adn watched how Alastor's grin grew tight at the mention.

"Yes but they're awfully pathetic and act like children. Throwing temper tantrums here and there," he paused for a moment before shutting his eyes and flitting them to you. "Actually you'd be more of a competent overlord than them-"

You held up a hand. "No, no, we've been over this. I'm not an overlord. I don't have nearly enough power-"

"I could help with that," He smiled and you watched the green and red glow light up from behind him.

"Uh huh, so you could put me on a leash? Yeah, no thanks," You rolled your eyes at the offer and watched as he laughed it off with you.

"No no, just as a friendly gesture. Of course a favor wouldn't be too bad I suppose,"

You laughed once more. "A favor? from me? I'm sorry but being gone for seven damn years must've screwed with your head. I can't do anything,"

You both stopped in front of a large building. At least in the alleyway of a shop in front of it. You noticed how Alastor avoided the cameras, he must've done this thousands of times.

"Aren't you doing this?" Alastor gestures over to the building.

Three V's hung at the very top of a very colorful building and- you take it back this is worse than the hotel. You winced at the colors and looked over to Alastor. "I might change my mind,"

You watched as he laughed for a short amount of time before returning to you. "Well then we better hurry up I suppose my dear," He snapped his fingers and you watched the cameras glitch for a second. "We'll only have a moment now," He said and he walked out with you and into a backroom of the building and- god the inside might just be worse.

Thousands of LEDs strung up around the hall with tons of flashing lights. Stuff to draw one's attention. You just wanted to get out. You followed Alastor around before he stopped. "You know the way from here?" He asked.

You paused and looked at him. "Please tell me you didn't-"

"I haven't been here before. I've never had a reason to before now," He said and tapped his staff onto the ground leaning on it for support. His ears bent slightly back in frustration.

You glanced at the cameras and sighed for a moment before looking back at him. "A minute please," you hummed and flicked a small bit of electricity over before tapping a device on your wrist generating a hologram. You watched as it flickered between the different places before stopping on one.

"Got it, we need to be in the room though and uh," You pointed to the hologram showing someone in the room. Alastor squinted and sighed.

"He was always obsessed," he groaned and looked over to you. "Get over there I'll lead him out and- don't get caught. Got it?" His gaze hardly even looked at you but you nodded anyways.

"Sir yes sir," You laughed and ran over towards where it would be. Having access to the cameras made it easier now you'd have to admit. You watched as people passed by and when you rarely messed up you knew where to go next. Then you reached the room. A room full of tv's and god- this was creepier in person.

You walked over looking down at the ledge of which the room seemed to drop forever. Yikes, you wouldn't wanna fall down there. You looked at the cameras seeing the guy from before shout at Alastor who was breaking a ton of stuff with a look on his face that said he was having way too much fun with this.

You looked over at the tv's and smiled flicking of bit of the electricity into the tv's and watching as it squirmed through. That should do it. You watched as it slowly ran through the computers and it flicked through everything. The channels, commercials, and god you're not looking at that one, until you found it. The commercial. With a grin you clicked approve and watched as it slowly became permanent with the humming from the computers agreeing with your own.

"That should do it," you muttered and looked back at the cameras and-

shit.

He's almost here.

You hissed to yourself cursing that you weren't more careful. Goddammit, you need an out, and now. You looked around the room and facepalmed mentally. This was horrible. The only thing you could hope to do it wait by the door and hope that he didn't see you.

You ran over and slid by the door covering your mouth. This was gonna suck. You balled your fists ready to get into a fight, you knew how to fight, you lived in the worst part of the fucking pentagram. You knew all the moves, you knew how to fight dirty. You raced through your head trying to gather your thoughts but none came. Your knees became weak. This was a real overlord. Alastor was a real overlord, shit what were you thinking.

You could hear the footsteps get closer and closer. Each step felt like hell to bare.

You can't remember how to fight, you readjust your hands trying to remember how to not break your thumb. The door handle turns and you almost lose it. You almost bolt down into the abyss. Hell it might be a better death than fucking with some flashy guy's tech.

Crash

"Dammit Alastor!" You hear the reverberate of a tv penetrate your ear. God it hurts, the footsteps retreat and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You let your hand fall to your side not letting yourself gain the time to process what just happened. Once the noise was gone you checked the cameras.

Nothing.

You opened the door and bolted it checking the cameras constantly until you were out of the wretched building. You panted heavily catching your breath as you leaned into the alleyway you and Alastor were at before. There was a fight, you could hear it. The shouting, the screaming. God were you glad you had Alastor. You covered your mouth and watched as everything slowly died down and a shadow slithered up to you.

You moved your feet back and watched as Alastor reformed in front of you. "Sorry for that one darling, I hope he didn't get too close," he said and pulled you in for a half side hug before letting you go.

"No, not... not at all," you muttered and watched as Alastor paused for a moment.

"Well he didn't see you did he?"

You looked up and paled at the thought. "Hell no! I... I hope not," you admitted slowly. "There's- there's no way," you said firmly once more and looked at Alastor who nodded.

"Understood, come along then we have work to do,"

Vox slammed the door into the control room. His suit was tattered and who the fuck did Alastor think he was was starting trouble on his territory. He groaned and watched as his tech lit up with almost a new color. He paused for a moment and walked forward watching as it glowed brighter than anything he's ever seen before dulling and disappearing into the darkness.

Weird.

He touched his keyboard and felt the energy spark him and it hurt. It. Hurt. He made a small face before touching it again and it hummed in response before finally fading out. Electricity wasn't supposed to hurt him. So what the hell was that? He paused and watched as it returned to its normal state and sighed before seeing something playing on the screen.

The commercial. The fucking Hazbin Hotel bullshit was playing on his screens. He slammed his hand down and began trying to fix it only to find it kicking him out. What the hell? He tried again only to be met with the same fate not only that but a message appearing on the screen.

You cannot access this. Please try something else.

He shouted in frustration. "What the fuck is happening!?" He swiped over the screens and found something.

Footage.

Footage of what the hell happened.

Next? --->

if you would like to be notified just comment so :)

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #but not really lol #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #the reader is kinda an overlord but not a well known one #uhhh yeah #part 2 coming soon #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

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munchmemes · 10 months

Text

hozier lyrics, unreal unearth edition

❛ your reflection can't offer a word to the bliss of not knowing yourself. ❜

❛ no closer could i be to god or why he would do what he's done. ❜

❛ what you live in, it finds a way to live in you. ❜

❛ your heart has such darkness. ❜

❛ i wanna be gone. i wanna run so far, i'd beat the morning. ❜

❛ before the dawn has come, i'd block the sun if you want it done. ❜

❛ let all time slow. let all light go. ❜

❛ i don't need to know where we begin and end. ❜

❛ i'd still know you, not being shown you. ❜

❛ the first time that you kissed me, i drank dry the river lethe. the liffey would have been softer on my stomach all the same. ❜

❛ some part of me must have died the first time that you called me baby. ❜

❛ some part of me came alive the first time that you called me baby. ❜

❛ these days, i think, i owe my life to flowers that were left here by my mother. ain't that like them? gifting life to you again. ❜

❛ oh, to share the space with simple living things infinitely suffering but fighting off, like all creation, the absence of itself ... but anyway. ❜

❛ some part of me stayed alive each time that you called. ❜

❛ whatever keeps you around, it keeps you around. ❜

❛ when i was young i used to guess, are there limits to any emptiness? ❜

❛ how could you think i'd scare so easily? ❜

❛ my life was a storm since i was born. how could i fear any hurricane? ❜

❛ i would do it again if i could hold you for a minute. ❜

❛ what good would it be on the far side of things? ❜

❛ i would not change it each time. ❜

❛ heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i. ❜

❛ i feel lighter than i have in so much time. ❜

❛ how could i fall when i am lifted by every word you say to me? ❜

❛ if anything could fall at all, it's the world that falls away from me. ❜

❛ if you need to, lean your weight to me. ❜

❛ if we fall, i only pray, don't fall away from me. ❜

❛ i'm starving, darling. let me put my lips to something. ❜

❛ you can't buy this fineness. ❜

❛ we can celebrate the good that we've done. ❜

❛ we had nowhere to go and every desire for going there. ❜

❛ i heard once, it's the comforts that make us feel numb. ❜

❛ it was just our turn being blamed for a world we had no power in. ❜

❛ i haven't felt it since then. i don't know how the feeling ended. ❜

❛ i know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done. ❜

❛ we knew what our love was worth when we had nothing. ❜

❛ i miss when we did not need much. ❜

❛ you were steering my heart like a wheel in your hands. ❜

❛ all i needed was someone when the whole wide world felt young. ❜

❛ hold me like water or hold me like a knife. ❜

❛ you and i burned out our steam chasing someone else's dream. ❜

❛ how can something be so much heavier but so much less than what it seems? ❜

❛ you only feel it when it's lost. getting through still has its cost. ❜

❛ if there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact, they didn't do it right. ❜

❛ we didn't get it right but we did our best. ❜

❛ knowing that everything will end should not change our plans. ❜

❛ all things end. ❜

❛ there are some things that no one teaches you that come natural as a dream you didn't know that you were in. ❜

❛ the awful things we do to make the head go quiet. ❜

❛ you may never know your fortune until the distance has been shown between what is lost forever and what can still be known. ❜

❛ i don't wanna be anything but i would do anything just to run away. ❜

❛ go look another way. ❜

❛ look, i wanna be loud. so loud, i'm talking seismic. ❜

❛ i will not be great but i'm grateful to get through. ❜

❛ the memory hurts but does me no harm. ❜

❛ the moment i knew i'd no choice but to love you. ❜

❛ there's a part of me, i'm afraid will always be trapped within an abstract from a moment of my life. ❜

❛ you know, the distance never made a difference to me. ❜

❛ so, i thought you were like an angel to me. ❜

❛ it ain't the being alone. it ain't the empty home. you know i'm good on my own. ❜

❛ so much of the living is the being unknown. ❜

❛ do you know i could break beneath the weight of the goodness i still carry for you? ❜

❛ there are some people who are better unknown. ❜

❛ darkness always finds you either way. ❜

❛ after this, i'm never gonna be the same and i am never going back again. ❜

#lyrics rp starters #rp starters #rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #lyrics rp meme

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queenshelby · 9 months

Text

Auctioned (P. 4)

Pairing: Dom! Thomas Shelby x Virgin! Reader

Warning: SMUT!

The night of nights had finally come and you stood nervously in your lavish bedroom of Arrow House, the place you now called home. It was all so overwhelming - the grandeur, the opulence, and the weight of the responsibility that came with being in the service of Thomas Shelby, the infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders.

Tonight, was the night you would be losing your innocence to this man, and with this on your mind, you were startled when, suddenly, the door creaked open, and Alison sauntered in with a knowing smirk. She had been tasked with preparing you for your first time, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

"Alright, darling, let's get you ready," Alison said, her voice filled with a mixture of sympathy and matter-of-factness. "We'll start with a bath. It's important to be clean and presentable for what's to come."

As you undressed, Alison filled the large, marble bathtub with warm water, fragrant oils, and rose petals. The room was filled with an intoxicating scent as you stepped into the water, feeling a strange mix of comfort and apprehension.

"I know this is all new to you, and it won't be easy, my dear. Thomas is a man who knows what he wants, and he takes it without remorse,” Alison said, handing you a soft sponge. "But trust me, whilst Thomas Shelby may be rough around the edges, he does have an eye for innocence. He is a complex man. But he's also passionate and caring, in his own twisted way, and you may even enjoy yourself."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what lay ahead.

And then, you tilted your head, curiosity getting the better of your fear. "What is it that he sees in me you think? I am sure he could have money women for free,” you wondered as Alison's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"He sees a vulnerability that he can't resist. A purity that he longs to corrupt,” she determined as she gently washed your body, guiding your hesitant hands along your curves.

"Remember, he likes to be in control. Don't resist him," Alison said, her voice filled with a hint of warning. "You're here to please him. Understood?"

You nodded again, the weight of the situation sinking in. The thought of pleasing Thomas Shelby felt both terrifying and strangely exciting.

Once the bath was over, Alison helped you out and wrapped you in a fluffy towel. She sat you down on a plush velvet chair and moved to a nearby vanity, where she laid out an array of cosmetics.

"Now, my dear, let's talk about what to expect," Alison said, her voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and compassion. "It may hurt, and there may be some blood since it is your first time. It's perfectly normal, love. Thomas won't be fazed by it, and neither should you."

You bit your lip, your anxiety swirling like a storm inside you. You hadn't anticipated the reality of the situation being so raw and gritty. But you were committed, having agreed to Thomas Shelby's terms.

Alison then handed you a small bottle of painkillers, a stark reminder that this encounter would not be without its consequences. "Take these before you go to him. They will help with any discomfort you may feel afterwards. You can thank me later," she smirked as your trembling hand took the vial, the tiny capsules, a stark reminder of the pain that awaited you.

Numbly, you accepted the painkillers, but your mind was filled with a flurry of thoughts. Was this really what you had signed up for? Was it worth it?

Sensing your doubt, Alison leaned in closer, her voice low and gentle. "Honey, I won't sugarcoat it. Thomas has tastes that may seem unconventional to you. But you must do as you're told and please him, in return of which he will look after you,” she explained.

Her words offered a small glimmer of reassurance, but deep down, you couldn't shake the nerves and uncertainty that clung to you like a heavy fog.

Alison stood up and retrieved a beautifully embroidered silk robe from the wardrobe. She helped you slip it on, tying the delicate sash with a practised touch.

"Now that you're ready, my dear, let's talk about what Thomas expects from you," Alison said, her tone shifting to a more direct and business-like demeanour.

You leaned in, hanging on her every word, desperate to understand your role in this twisted dance of power and desire.

"Thomas likes it when you're attentive and when you anticipate his needs," Alison explained, her voice laced with a hint of admiration. "He's a dominant man, and he expects you to submit to his commands. You already had some practice this week, and I doubt that he would go as far as he usually does with me. That will happen in due course” Alison explained and, again, you nodded while fidgeting with the sash of the robe, trying to come to terms with the contradictory nature of Thomas Shelby. A man of darkness and light, capable of both cruelty and compassion.

"Now, let's talk about clean-up," Alison continued, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes.

"To avoid any unwanted consequences, you'll want to take some precautions after your encounter," Alison told you and her tone held a hint of macabre humor, as if she were discussing the mundane rather than the grotesque.

She took you to a small room adjoining the chamber, where supplies awaited. Bottles of antiseptics, cotton swabs, and instructions that felt more like warnings. It was a ritual you must perform after every encounter with Thomas.

"You'll need to be thorough," she explained, her fingers gently demonstrating the motions. "Cleanse yourself of his touch, his seed. We can't afford any slip-ups, my dear."

The realisation of what she meant hit you like a punch to the gut. The thought that this encounter could lead to something more permanent than just a night of submission and pain hadn't crossed your mind until now.

"But what if I'm..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "What if I'm with child?"

Alison's eyes softened for a moment, a glimmer of empathy breaking through the walls she had built around herself. "Then you'll do what you must. But let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The words hung in the air, the weight of the unsaid echoing in the silence. You knew what she meant - the desperate measures that would need to be taken if you were to avoid the consequences of bringing a Shelby child into this world.

"Now, love, I've taught you all I can for tonight but if you need anything, if there's anything you're unsure of, don't hesitate to come to me. I'm here for you,” Alison finally told you before leaving you to your own devices.

Gratitude welled up within you as a small smile tugged at the corners of your trembling lips. In this dark world, you had found an ally, someone who understood the intricacies and dangers that lay ahead.

You took a deep breath, drawing upon the newfound strength that Alison's words had instilled in you. Ready or not, you were about to face Thomas Shelby, the enigmatic and dangerous man who held your fate in his hands.

***

The hallway outside the bedroom was dimly lit, its worn carpet muffling the sounds of your anxious footsteps. As the door to Thomas' bedroom came into view, your heart began to race, pounding in your chest like a drum.

You hesitantly pushed open the door and stepped inside, feeling the weight of his gaze immediately upon you. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, suffused with his dominant presence. Each step closer to him felt like walking to the edge of a precipice, unsure of what lay below.

Thomas Shelby, the formidable leader of the Peaky Blinders, sat on a luxurious armchair near the fireplace, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His intense gaze locked onto you, causing a shiver to cascade down your spine. "Ten thousand pounds, eh," he quipped, his voice laced with arrogance.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you won’t regret it, Mr. Shelby," Your eyes darted around the room, unable to meet his piercing gaze. The nervousness in your voice was palpable.

Thomas then stood up and circled you, his eyes tracing every contour of your body, his gaze filled with undisguised hunger. "I won’t," he then said, before making his first command.

“Now undress,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. With trembling hands, you began to peel away the layers of protective silk, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as your vulnerability became more exposed with each passing second.

“Show yourself to me, Love. Show me your innocent body,” he then cued and your heart skipped a beat as Thomas' words infiltrated your mind.

The contrast of light against shadow, innocence against raw power - it captivated you and frightened you all at once. Thomas moved closer, breathing in your delicate scent, his fingertips grazing the fabric of the robe that still hugged your trembling form. He leaned down, his voice seductive and filled with authority.

"Remember, Love, you are mine tonight. Every thought, every breath, every moan belongs to me. You are my property,” he told you as his gaze roamed over your trembling form, his lips curling up into a satisfied smirk.

You nodded, your voice failing you once again. You were but a canvas, ready to be painted with the brushstrokes of Thomas Shelby's desires. Slowly, Thomas stepped back, his eyes locked on yours as he began to strip away his tailored suit. The muscles of his chest and abdomen rippled with each movement, revealing a powerful physique that left you breathless. The air in the room crackled with a potent mix of anticipation and apprehension. There was a dance happening, an intricate choreography that only Thomas knew the steps to.

"Come closer," Thomas commanded, his voice soft but commanding and you took a hesitant step forward, the floor cool against the soles of your feet, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

In that moment, the line between fear and desire blurred, and you knew you were at the mercy of a man who thrived on both. He circled you like a predator stalking its prey, his fingers grazing the soft skin of your exposed neck. A shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively seeking the warmth and safety of his touch.

"Your sister wasn't wrong, eh," Thomas mused, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "There is a certain innocence about you, a vulnerability that intrigues me. It's rare in this world."

“My sister?” you asked, trembling, as you dared to look into his eyes, searching for any cracks in the façade. But all you found was an enigmatic intensity, a fire that consumed everything in its path.

“Your sister was the one who suggested that I attend the auction which I, may add, I considered to be somewhat distasteful,” Thomas pointed out and, whilst you had so many questions now, you knew that they all would have to wait when Thomas leaned in, his lips brushing gently against your ear as he whispered, sending delicious waves of electricity through your entire being. "But, enough of that now. Tonight, I will show you what it means to be mine and you will submit to me, completely," Tommy said and, with that, Thomas took your hand and led you towards the bed.

The soft sheets cradled your weight as he gently pushed you onto the mattress, his dominance like a spell that held you captive. His touch was electrifying, searing your skin as his hands roamed every inch of your trembling body. Each caress, each brush of his fingertips, sent quivers of anticipation through your core.

"Do you trust me, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice dripping with a mix of lust and possession. It was a question that held more weight than mere words could convey. You looked deep into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability that lay hidden beneath the layers of darkness.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I trust you." A fierce fire ignited within Thomas' gaze, his control slipping for a moment as he passionately claimed your lips, his kiss a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was a whirlwind that consumed you, making you lose all sense of time and space.

Every touch of his lips, every stroke of his fingers, made you forget about everything else except his commanding presence. He expertly navigated your body with the view of getting you ready for the inevitable.

"Spread your legs, Love. Let me see how wet you are," Tommy commanded, his voice low and husky. Your heart hammered in your chest as you followed his instruction, your breath coming in short gasps.

"You are fucking soaking, eh," he determined, his finger stroking your inner thigh. "You really want me to fuck that virgin hole of yours, don't you Love?" he then asked with a devilish grin. Your face flushed red, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. The thought of giving yourself to him, of surrendering yourself completely, both terrified and excited you.

He pulled you closer, his large hands tracing gentle circles across your back.

"I can see it in your eyes, you want this," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as you pressed against him.

"I do, Mr. Shelby," you gasped nervously as he slid his hands along your hips, guiding you to straddle him. "But I am scared that it will hurt," you then admitted as your body shook slightly, fear and excitement coursing through you as you felt his fingers teasingly brush against your entrance.

"Don't worry, love," he whispered into your ear, his deep voice a soothing balm to your racing thoughts. "It will hurt, but only for a little bit. I won't fuck you until I make sure that you are ready," he assured you before beginning to trail kisses down your body.

"I will use my tongue on you first, sweetheart. Just like last night, eh" Tommy determined, his eyes burning with intensity. Your heart raced at the thought of what he meant, and the thought made you even more aroused. You nodded, unable to speak due to the throbbing pulse between your legs and Tommy smiled knowingly, adoring your shyness.

As he slowly lowered himself to your level, his gaze fixated on yours, ensuring you were comfortable with every move he made. His hands caressed your hips and thighs, easing any discomfort that might arise from his actions.

Thomas's lips brushed gently against your sensitive skin, trailing tender kisses along your neck and shoulders. "Trust me, Love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. As you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, you couldn't help but acknowledge the intoxicating sensation that overtook you with each deliberate stroke of his fingers, each soft press of his lips.

Eventually, then, he reached your glistening core and started circling it with his tongue, eliciting soft moans from you as he explored every inch of your nether regions.

Gently, he lifted your leg, spreading you wider with his firm hands, taking full advantage of your submission. You gasped as he probed deeper, teasing your tightness with his tongue, drawing tiny circles around your entrance.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," Tommy groaned, his voice thick with desire. He continued to torment you, pushing you further and further along the edge of ecstasy. With each flick of his tongue, your body seemed to writhe with uncontrollable pleasure.

"Please, Mr. Shelby..." you begged, your voice hoarse from the intensity of your arousal.

Tommy smiled, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He continued to torture you with his skilled mouth, pushing you to the precipice of orgasm.

You squirmed underneath him, trying to find some sort of release. The tension built up inside you, reaching almost unbearable levels.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the pressure growing stronger. "Tommy!" you cried out, your body shuddering violently. "Tommy, please! I need..." You didn't get to finish your sentence, as he shifted his position and smiled.

"No, Love. I won't let you cum until I fucked you thoroughly with my cock," Tommy smiled, unbothered by the fact that you had just dropped the formalities and called him by his first name.

The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made you realize how much power he held over you, your body. It was an erotic thrill, the thought of being taken by him, of surrendering your body fully to his demands.

"Now, get on to all fours for me Love. It is time!" Tommy ordered, causing you to swallow hard, thinking that this position in particular would be more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

Nevertheless, you complied, getting onto all fours, presenting your backside to him. You heard the rustle of the sheets behind you, as Tommy undressed, tossing the remainder of his clothes carelessly aside. His powerful presence filled the room, leaving no doubt as to whose domain it truly was.

Your breath hitched as he came up behind you, his hands resting lightly on your hips. He took his time, running his fingers lightly over your body, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to hurry.

"Are you ready for my cock, Love?" he asked, his voice laced with authority. Your heart pounded faster, the thought of him filling you, bringing not only terror but also a strange sense of exhilaration.

"Yes," you managed to utter, feeling a flush of pride at your own boldness. "I am ready, Mr. Shelby." Your words carried a newfound confidence, a sense of control that had been missing earlier.

Tommy smiled, pleased by your bravery. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Good," he whispered.

"I expect you to take it like a good girl, eh? And I want you to hold nice and still when I fill you," Tommy told you and you could hear the excitement in his voice, a fervour that mirrored your own. He lubricated his fingers, preparing himself for the task ahead. Gently, he pressed a single digit into your entrance, causing you to gasp and clench involuntarily. Slowly, he worked another finger inside of you, stretching you incrementally, building up to what was about to happen next.

"Relax, Love," he instructed gently, his fingers working rhythmically in and out of you. "Let yourself feel the pleasure I'm going to give you." Your breathing became increasingly erratic, your entire focus narrowed to the point where you could only concentrate on his touch.

But, just before you could cum, Tommy removed his fingers and replaced them with his thick cock, which now pushed against your entrance.

"I am going to push in now," Tommy warned you and your eyes widened, your body trembling with anticipation and fear. But there was also a sense of triumph, as if conquering something deeply personal, something that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

You braced yourself, tensing as he began to push into you while you held on to one of the pillows.

"It hurts," you cried out while Tommy watched as his thick length pushed past your pussy lips as he forced another inch into you.

"It's okay, Love. Breathe through it," he murmured, gripping your hips tightly. He knew that you were new to this, that it wouldn't come naturally to you. But you had to learn, you had to adapt.

You gritted your teeth, tears stinging your eyes, feeling the pain sear through your body.

"You are doing well. I am halfway in," Tommy told you as, eventually, he could feel your barrier. Your body tensed even more, but he kept pushing, gradually forcing your virgin walls to yield to his advance.

"This is your first time," he said, his voice full of admiration. "And I will be the one to claim your innocence, eh," Tommy groaned as, with a final forceful thrust, he was entirely sheathed within you, filling you completely.

"Fuck, you are tight," you then heard Tommy curse as you felt a warm kind of liquid tickle down your inner thighs, which you knew may have been blood as Alison had warned you to be the case.

Your body was on fire, and it was only now that you realized the true extent of the physical impact of what had just occurred.

"You are not so innocent anymore," Tommy groaned before slowly beginning to thrust in and out of you and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the pain.

Your body ached everywhere, yet a strange kind of pleasure mixed with the pain coursed through you.

"Now tell me Love, who do you belong to?" Tommy asked, his voice gruff with desire. You couldn't believe you were really having this conversation, yet somehow, the heat of his body against yours and the ache inside you caused by his cock, made you believe it was real.

"I belong to you, Mr. Shelby," you replied, your voice shaking slightly. Despite the immense pain, your response was met with a smile of approval from Tommy.

He pulled out slightly, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before plunging back in, harder this time.

"That's right Love. You belong to me," he groaned as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. Your body was starting to adjust to the intrusion, and despite the pain, a deep and powerful wave of pleasure washed over you with each thrust. The rhythmic slap of his hips against yours filled the room, drowning out everything else.

You bit your lip, trying to maintain composure as you clung desperately to the pillow, your nails digging into the fabric. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you weren't quite there yet.

Just as you were about to reach the peak, Tommy suddenly stopped, pulling out of you with a grunt.

"What are you doing?" you cried out, frustrated and disoriented by the sudden change.

"Shhh, Love," he whispered, placing a finger on your lips. "Just trust me." His intense gaze held yours, making it difficult for you to resist him. You nodded hesitantly, unsure of what he had planned.

Without warning, Tommy scooped you up in his arms, carrying you effortlessly across the room.

You gasped in surprise, wondering what was happening.

"Where are we going?" you asked nervously, unable to hide your apprehension.

"Trust me, Love," Tommy reassured you with a gentle smile. "You'll see."

As he reached the window, he carefully lowered you onto the ledge, standing close enough to support you if needed. Together, you looked out over the land surrounding Arrow House, the moonlight casting a silver glow upon the landscape below as well as the streets of Birmingham, far in the distance.

"Do you see this?" he asked, gesturing toward the breathtaking view. "This is mine. All of it. Everything you see here, belongs to me." He paused, turning to face you with a look of determination in his eyes. "You too, belong to me. You are my fucking property and I want you to remember that every time you look at these streets, these buildings, everything that makes up this empire."

A cold chill ran down your spine, understanding the weight of his words. You were nothing more than a possession, belonging to him like any other material thing he owned.

The thought of being considered as valuable as the buildings below filled you with both anger and shame. You wanted to argue, to protest, but you couldn't deny the truth in his words.

"Now bend down, Love. I want to fuck you some more," Tommy growled, his voice low and commanding. Feeling the power in his words, you bent over the ledge, presenting yourself to him once again. He grabbed your hips firmly, positioning you perfectly. The wind gently brushed against your skin, chilling you to the core, but it didn't stop you from obeying him.

"That's it, good girl," he cooed as he lined himself up with your sore entrance again.

You felt the familiar burning sensation as he entered you once more, your muscles struggling to relax around his sizeable member.

"Remember, you belong to me, and I can do whatever I want with you," Tommy reminded you as he started to thrust into you.

Your cheeks flushed red as you felt a mixture of humiliation and arousal at his words.

You bit your lip hard, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of him sliding in and out of you.

With every thrust, you could feel him claiming you, marking you as his own. The intensity of his grip on your hips left no doubt about the strength of his dominance over you. It was as though he was branding you with his touch, leaving an indelible mark that would forever be a part of you.

"Come on, Love," he urged, his voice rough with passion.

"Take me deeper." You obeyed instinctively, burying your nails into his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. The pleasure-pain combination was reaching new heights, making you realize how unprepared you were for this intense experience.

As the tempo increased, the wind howled, matching the frenzy of your own cries. The air turned colder, sending shivers through your body, only making you crave more of his touch.

"You are making a mess all over the floor Love," Tommy groaned playfully, his grip on your hips tightening.

"I am sorry," you managed to utter, barely able to form the words due to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you.

"No apologies," he snapped, a dark gleam in his eye. "You enjoy it, don't you? Letting yourself go, feeling the sensations washing over you."

"Yes," you moaned, finding yourself helplessly lost in the moment.

"Good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming even more forceful.

"Keep looking out, let it remind you whose property you truly are." You obeyed, feeling your resolve waver under the intensity of his touch. The cold wind whipped against your skin, adding another layer of discomfort to your situation. Yet, the pain seemed to amplify the exquisite pleasure coursing through your body.

His grip on your hips tightened as he continued to move in and out of you, the rhythm matching the beat of your heart.

Your cries became louder, mingling with the wind and echoing through the silent corridors of Arrow House. As your body trembled from the intense sensations, you tried to suppress the growing fear that overwhelmed you. How could you possibly give yourself fully to such a man without losing yourself in the process?

With each thrust, you felt your connection to Thomas deepen, your vulnerability exposed, and your independence diminished. You found yourself struggling to reconcile the reality of your situation with the idealized image of love and devotion you had envisioned for yourself.

"Do you want to cum?" Tommy eventually asked, seeing that you could not take too much more of this.

You nodded vigorously, eager to release the pent-up tension coursing through your body.

He continued to thrust into you at a faster pace, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. You felt a building pressure within you, an uncontrollable need to explode.

"Cum for me, Love," he commanded, his grip on your hips tightening further.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, engulfing you in a wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

Your entire body shook with the intensity of it, your grip on the ledge tightening almost painfully.

"So good, isn't it?" Tommy asked, his eyes burning with pride. You couldn't find the words to answer him, still reeling from the aftershocks of your climax as he sped up again, finding his very own release.

Sweat dripped down your forehead, mingling with the tears that stained your cheeks. The cold wind whipped against your heated skin, adding another layer of discomfort to your situation. Yet, the pain seemed to amplify the exquisite pleasure coursing through your body.

"Almost there Love. I am going to cum in this virgin cunt of yours, eh" Tommy groaned loudly, the sound filling the quietness of the night as your orgasm subsided and you felt increasingly sore.

"You better learn to love this feeling because it's going to become the norm. I will fill your holes with my cum every fucking day from now on," Tommy howled as he thrusted into you harder and you tried to catch your breath as you struggled to understand the extent of your submission to him.

His harsh, possessive tone only served to make you tremble in fear and arousal simultaneously. You knew then that there was no escape from this life, no way to break free from his grasp.

"Y/N," he growled, pounding into you with renewed ferocity. "Your body belongs to me. Your pleasures are mine to control. Do you understand?"

Swallowing thickly, you nodded reluctantly, your throat raw from earlier cries. "Yes," you whispered, barely audible even to yourself.

"Good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as your cries became louder, mingling with the wind and echoing through the silent corridors of Arrow House.

"Now, hold nice and still for me, eh" Tommy groaned, pulsating inside of you, and filling you with his warm seed.

"Fuck," Tommy groaned, pumping himself into you until he finally shot his entire load into you.

His body convulsed in ecstasy, and you felt the hot stickiness of his semen pouring into you, mixing with your very own wetness and the blood from your torn innocence until, eventually, he pulled out of your sore pussy.

"Look at that Love. Look at you leaking my cum," Tommy cooed, forcing you to turn around and making you look down at your soiled body, stained with his seed and the evidence of your lost virginity.

"It's going to happen a lot more often now, eh?" Tommy smirked while your body was still trembling from the force of your orgasm.

"Yes Mr. Shelby. I will be at your service whenever you need," you said, your voice wavering slightly as you regained your composure. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as you processed the implications of his last statement.

"Good girl," he said, the praise laced with his characteristic blend of authority and desire. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch involuntarily. His eyes flashed with a mix of tenderness and menace, his expression conveying the complexity of his feelings towards you.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your bearings after the intense encounter.

You stared at the mess you had made on the floor, feeling a strange mixture of shame and excitement. You glanced back at Thomas, who stood proudly watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. Your heart raced as you began to comprehend the true extent of your predicament – you were now owned by him, bound to fulfill his desires whenever he wished.

As you stood there, the wind whipping around you, you realized just how far you had come from the innocent young woman you once were.

"Now, you should get cleaned up Love. I am sure Alison explained the procedure to you?" Tommy asked casually, breaking the silence that had fallen upon you both.

"Yes, she did. She said it is to avoid pregnancy," you answered, feeling a sudden surge of panic at the thought of getting pregnant.

"Correct, so I will leave you to it, eh?" Tommy smiled, his fingers brushing against your cheek affectionately.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby," you replied, attempting to mask your anxiety behind a veil of gratitude.

He gave you a slight nod before turning and walking towards the door, leaving you alone to process the events of the evening.

Standing there, you found yourself surrounded by the evidence of your defilement - the sweaty sheets tangled around your legs, the faint scent of sex in the air, and the knowledge that your innocence was irreparably shattered. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought about the future that lay ahead of you.

Even though you had been warned about what might happen, experiencing it firsthand left you reeling.

Your entire body ached from the intense physical exertion, yet your mind still buzzed with the aftermath of your loss of innocence. The cold draft of the night seeped through the open window, chilling your naked skin and reminding you of the vulnerability you felt.

This was your life now and, for some twisted reason, you already enjoyed it.

Tag List Insert

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soapels · 1 year

Text

stress relief

konig x female reader

tw: nsfw, dry-humping, konig is soft and down bad for reader

notes: guys i luvvvv konig he is too adorbs to not make a sappy lil smutty drabble of! pls enjoy this quick one n tell me who u wanna see next, drop suggestions + thirsts and whatnot ♡

all hearts & reblogs are so appreciated!

The two of you shouldn’t be up.

Let alone up to no good— it’s late, most of your comrades are sleeping just in the next room over, and you’re pretty certain it’s against standard protocol to let your fellow operator pull down your pants.

But he is, and you’re letting him.

Consider it stress relief, is what you tell yourself to ease the guilt and that niggling feeling of dirtiness creeping over your bones as he slots his hips up with yours, setting you down on the top of a table- oddly gentle for a horny man of well over six foot five- and places a smattering of kisses over your neck, cheeks, jaw…

He’s a little awkward, you notice, and that’s fine because you are too— he’s tall anyway, too big for his own good and most practical jobs (on the odd occasion or two, you may even catch him mourning the old rejection of his sniper application), so you understand.

You’re too dazed on his sweet touch to pay any of it much mind, though, his lips peppering puppy-dog kisses over every inch of exposed skin as he ruts his hips against yours, cock bulging through the fabric of his boxers, pants half down as he grinds against the wet spot of your panties.

“Perfekt,” he moans softly into the dip beneath your jaw, your nose pointed to the ceiling as your eyes search for purchase there, tummy clutching up with some unbridled pleasure as his big hands hold you close, gloved fingertips- nothing close to painful- digging into the fat of your plushy thighs.

The first whine he drags out of is you is fragile, he treats it like silver, a hand swinging up to brush his knuckles over the slope of your cheek, blue eyes a faded haze of lust and adoration as he momentarily debates freeing the both of you and sticking it in already.

(But he’s big— wouldn’t it hurt you? What if you don’t really want him like he wants you—? Konig can manage like this anyway, because you feel so good, his cock nudging eagerly over your clothed pussy, your aura sucking him in deliciously. And he’s sure he’d embarrass himself too- would cum too fast, ‘cause you’re just so sweet and pretty and he’s wanted this for too long.)

Konig’s patient, though, and you’re something well worth the wait, the gloved pads of his fingers swiping away the hazy tears that gather at the shimmery lines of your eyes. (Gorgeous, he’s sure there’s galaxies hiding there.)

When your hips start moving against his, timid at first- slowly building up to a speed that matches his own careful, needy one- he moans at your ear, teeth nipping at its lobe as he brushes away the hair there.

Delicately- so soft. So good.

You mewl and twitch when his very-evident bulge catches on your puffy clit, your cotton panties soaked with your budding arousal at the front- and he swears he nearly cums on the spot.

“Ja bitte,” he groans, voice teetering on the line of hesitant ferocity, his massive body towering over yours- swallowing you up in his shadow- as the cicadas thrum outside. And Konig lies you on your back, then, dragging you in by those hypnotic hips of yours that always seem to thwart his concentration, folding himself over you as he humps into you like a mutt in heat.

“Cum for me,” he whispers, all feral and sweet, the black curtain of his mask tickling the V of your jaw, “C-Cum for me, please.”

And you do.

All over, soiling the thin fabric of your undies, his pelvis soon jerking in response— stopping dead in its tracks— and then twitching as he nibbles on the soft expanse of your neck, spilling spilling spilling—

“Ah- good,” he whines out, voice blissed-out yet just thick enough to hear.

“Very good—… good girl…”

The my part of the good girl goes unspoken, but Konig really hopes you’ve got no intention of backing out on him now, princess…

(Or the next day. Or the next… Or the next…)

#konig smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig x reader #konig fanfiction #call of duty #cod x reader #smut #call of duty x reader #i love this man #no complaints here ❤️‍🔥#hope u guys liked this lil thirst fic thing #tell me what u wanna see #im open to good suggestions ♡♡♡

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months

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hhhrggrhrgrg NL Darling feeling a sort of kinship with mono right off the bat because oh?? not human?? metal bits?? all alone??? :)) friend

Mono 🤝 Nightlight Darling

Lonely Bots with a space theme who long for someone to hold- [just gonna use this ask to slap on the full blurb I made with these two cuties]

Mono finds Nightlight abandoned in a scrap yard on what would've been their last evening on earth for some time - searching for the perfect item to bring with them until they returned. Throughout their travels, Mono had developed an affinity for collecting souvenirs from the planets they stumbled upon. Though its time was often brief - Mono felt a certain homesickness for every planet as they no longer had a home of their own. When they reached earth, their little hobby gradually escalates to a borderline addiction. So many treasures left for grabs in places like junk yards or antique shops simply because humans no longer see their worth.

If it were up to Mono, they would've taken everything they set their eye upon, but all that weight may not be good for their ship. They needed to find the perfect treasure to bring back with them..

And so they did.

"H..he....hello?"

When Mono found Nightlight - the poor android was in a terrible state of repair. Their dominant arm was nowhere to be seen, body covered in dirt and small scratches. Mono knew from the moment it saw Nightlight they'd do anything to fix them. Never had they'd seen such gorgeous craftsmanship from humans - only for them to be abandoned in cold, awful place like this. Mono carries Nightlight and the blanket they found the android in to their ship. What Mono thought to be a final gesture of kindess from the humans who cared for them would later be revealed as the cruelest act by far.

"They didn't even bother to shut me off properly... My last owners... They just put me in a blanket and made sure my solar panels were covered...I still remember...everything..."

The energy draining from their body. The loss of mobility in their limbs, unable to move even if they tried after being left in idle mode. Their former owners couldn't even give them the mercy of powering them down completely or wiping their system.

Nightlight isn't their usual self when they first meet Mono, but it isn't long before they're back to their cheerful self with how considerate and caring Mono is. Hints of their former self presented whenever Mono offers to leave their former owners to rot in filth or to rip off the arms of thieves who stole their arms. They haven't known them long, but they can tell Mono would never hurt they soul which they wouldn't.....at least not in front of their new crewmate. It's also hard for Nightlight to feel down when they can see earth right outside their bedroom window.

"Whoa! Is that earth?! It looks so small from up here... Look, I can hold it in my hands!"

Nightlight's energetic self is exactly what Mono's ship needed for it to finally feel like home to the alien. The android's lights are quite useful when the light surrounding the ship are on the fritz again as well. When it's time to repair nightlight's arm, Mono sneaks in parts of their metal into the limb during its construction. Unbeknownst to Nightlight, in Mono's culture that means they're already lovers.

Tiny human sized nightlight rides around on Mono's shoulders or clings to the larger bot's arms, legs, or hip whenever they're exploring. Anyone they meet along their journey can see how quick to iteration Mono is without their Starlight hanging off of them.

As some may know, Mono's native language best translate to Morse code. What some may not know - and something Mono was clearly unaware of is that Nightlight can understand them perfectly-

"Wow....I knew stars were beautiful, but seeing them up close... it's amazing."

"It is true they are a marvel to see in person...."

Mono trails off, sliding their fingers over the collar around its neck.

"-… ..- - / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / --- -. . / - …. .- - / … …. .. -. . … / -… .-. .. --. …. - . .-."

"Oh! Are you talking about me? You're so sweet, Mono - i think you shine bright too."

".-- …. .- - ..--.. -.-.-- ..... You can understand me? How long have you been able to..."

"Forever? You talk a whole lot in your sleep, y'know. It's cute... I love you too by the way."

The embarrassment may temporarily shut Mono's systems down, but hearing Nightlight reciprocates their feelings is what kills them.

[Translations: But I know a star that shines brighter, What?!]

#Mono my oc #Nightlight Reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere alien #yandere android #yandere drabble

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 6 days

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what do you think is the line between friends and moirails for trolls? I was never sure how to feel about it, it seems so nebulous. also any idea what's with feferi trying to invite kanaya and karkat into the horn pile with her and sollux? like based on the description of moirallegiance that sounds like... infidelity. but it didn't seem like the trolls reacted that way.

What it ultimately comes down to is the fact that Homestuck is a story, and furthermore, one pervaded by things like fate and destiny, which are real and exist within its universe, and therefore, the moirails for each of our trolls has already been decided by destiny (the author).

But also, in a less meta way, the confusion you're feeling likely stems from the fandom misconception that a moirallegiance is just an extra best-friendship, which it is NOT. The stated function of a moirallegiance is to calm each other the fuck down, in order to prevent them from hurting themselves or others. It's this pacifying effect, and not whether or not they hop into piles and talk about feelings, that defines a moirallegiance.

Trolls are a very angry and violent race. Some are more hot-tempered and dangerous than others, to the extent that if left to their own devices, they would present a serious threat to society, or even to themselves. Such trolls will have an instinctive pale attraction to a more even-tempered troll, who may become their MOIRAIL. The moirail is obliged to pacify the other, to function as the better half. The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Piles of stuff and feelings jams in them are associated with moirallegiance, but are not "something you only do with your moirail" - like getting coffee or holding hands are associated with dating your matesprit/human romance partner, but not exclusive to them, and, in many cases, not a form of infidelity (although they can be). For what it's worth, Eridan does call Gamzee's horn pile in the middle of the room a "vvulgar display," like Gamzee's chucked porno mags everywhere:

ERIDAN: wwhat a fuckin vvulgar display this is ERIDAN: airin out all his dirty laundry like that puttin a big fuckin pile a horns in the middle of the room ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

So what Feferi's doing with Sollux is less "hey, come cheat with me on Sollux," and more "hey, wanna third wheel our date?"

Moirallegiance is about the "instinctive pull" and the pacification of both partners. Also, moirallegiance is very much romantic. The comic uses the word "platonic," but I think what it means is "chaste" - moirallegiance is not involved in reproduction, so there is no requirement or social expectation for physical intimacy; however, if it weren't a form of romance, it wouldn't exactly be a type of troll romance, would it?

Failed moirallegiances do not have this calming effect: Kanaya doesn't stop (or even really attempt to stop) Vriska from doing her Vriska bullshit at all, and in fact Vriska gets MORE agitated when talking to her:

AG: Ok, so you're spying on me. Kind of creepy! Man, m8y8e you should get a l8fe. AG: Or you know, if you're so h8gh 8nd might8 an8 th8nk you're so gr8at, m8y88 you c8uld oh I d8n't kn8w........ AG: TRY AND ST8P ME FROM DO8NG B8D THINGS????????

The same can be seen with Feferi and Eridan:

CC: Is t)(ere a lucky lady you are waxing scarlet for? CC: OR LUCKY F-ELLOW??? 38O CA: uh CC: Tell me! CC: Don't pretend you're all -EMBARRASS-ED SUDD-ENLY!!! CA: ok fef CA: this is NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS

And with Karkat and Gamzee:

KARKAT: DON'T YOU START WITH ME KARKAT: DO. NOT. START WITH ME. KARKAT: I WILL GET YOU IN A HEADLOCK SO TIGHT IT WILL BE A MIRACLE IF PEOPLE DON'T MISTAKE OUR TUSSLE FOR AN ILL CONCEIVED VENTRILOQUIST ACT. KARKAT: I WILL SHOOSH YOU AGAIN, SO HELP ME GOD. I WILL SHOOSH YOUR CLOWN ASS TO SHANGRI-BULLSHIT-LA AND BACK, AND FILL YOUR EAR WITH MY WHITE HOT PALEBRO SPITTLE. KARKAT: I AM FULL AND FUCKING WELL PREPARED TO GET CONCILIATORY WITH YOU AGAIN IF YOU SO MUCH AS PASS GAS MURDEROUSLY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? KARKAT: IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT??? DO I NEED TO CALM YOUR FAYGO-STICKY TENTSQUATTING SHIT DOWN AGAIN???? GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o(

And what makes Equius and Nepeta so successful is that Nepeta keeps Equius's tendency towards fury in check, while Equius keeps Nepeta out of harmful situations (although he's maybe doing a bit too much of that and could afford to step back):

EQUIUS: D --> As such, he is prone to being more violent and unpredictable than any of us EQUIUS: D --> Not everyone has been as lucky as I in the domain of moirallegiance

AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM, AC: :33 < i dont know AC: :33 < you think so? AT: wELL, AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE, AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE, AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU,

And Feferi and Sollux work because Sollux is prone to excessive self-loathing, which, mixed with his mage powers of prophesying/invoking the future, make for a cocktail of potential harm to himself and others. Talking with her keeps his head above the water (heh) and forcibly prevents him from wallowing in self-loathing:

SOLLUX: anyway, yeah, now that aa ii2 gone forever ii feel more depre22ed and u2ele22 than u2ual, and ii wa2 already pretty cod damn u2ele22 two begiin wiith, let'2 face iit. FEFERI: But I )(ave it on good aut)(ority t)(at s)(e is fine! FEFERI: Everyt)(ing is going to go swimmingly, YOU'LL S-E-E. 38) SOLLUX: you are 2o riidiiculou2ly optiimii2tiic iit'2 kiind of 2iickeniing, why do you even put up wiith me? SOLLUX: iif you weren't 2o great ii would thiink you were a fuckiing iidiiot for liikiing me. SOLLUX: 2o, ii gue22 thank2 for liikiing me?

But even though these moirallegiances are ultimately doomed, there is some amount of pacification going on, making it difficult for the trolls to tell in the moment whether or not their pale relationship is true (Karkat does manage to stop Gamzee from murdering people, for example, but fails to address his religious beliefs and underlying trauma, whereas Gamzee can't calm Karkat down at all, so they end up drifting apart after the initial Major Problem has been settled).

The fact that it's a blurry line even for trolls is explicitly stated:

It's often ambiguous especially among young trolls whether a bond formed between an acquaintance is true moirallegence, or the usual variety of platonic involvement. Furthermore, romantic intentions of a more flushed nature can often be mistaken for paler leanings, much to the frustration of the suitor.

So this is kind of by design - part of adolescence, keeping in line with Homestuck's coming-of-age themes, is the messy romance. If it were easy to piece together, it wouldn't be true to life.

HOWEVER, that all being said, special notice does have to be taken of the way moirallegiance - moreso than even the other three quadrants - has an air of DESTINY about it. Trolls believe that every troll has one destined partner for every quadrant:

But if there was one theme to be hammered through his thick skull, it would be the trolls' cultural preoccupation with romantic destiny. Yes, the romantic landscape is rife with false starts and miscues and infidelities, red and black. But every troll believes strongly that each quadrant holds one and only one true pairing for them, and it is just a matter of time before the grid is filled with auspicious matchups through the mysterious channels of TROLL SERENDIPITY. In short, their belief is that for each quadrant there exists a pair or triad of trolls somewhere in the cosmos that were…

MADE FOR EACH OTHER.

So there's already a setup in this comic, which is so rife with prophecy and foreshadowing, that every troll is eventually going to end up with their true love/true hate - but even out of the four quadrants, moirallegiance is given special weight: first of all, it is the only quadrant that is literally translated as "soul mates":

This quadrant presides over MOIRALLEGIENCE, the other conciliatory relationship. A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

And second, it's called "mysterious" or "magical," even in direct comparison to black/red:

CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

You then proceed to have the rest of this conversation we already read, bugging and fussing and meddling through the special and magical union one can only describe as being in moirallegiance with another. At least, you guess that's how you would describe it. Maybe. Troll romance sure is confusing!

And we can't forget:

Such trolls will have an instinctive pale attraction to a more even-tempered troll

Which lends to the idea that there's a biological compulsion towards needing a moirail, same as how there's a biological draw towards finding reproductive partner(s).

But this is why I always tend to use "destined for" when discussing moirail pairs, and also why I focus specifically on which individuals calm other individuals the fuck down - like how Gamzee says he "feel[s] so at chill with" Tavros, or how Karkat goes from completely losing his shit to "yeah, so that's it i guess" after talking to Eridan.

#homestuck #moirallegiance #gamtav #erikar #solfef

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