#pick a sign off if you are going to be around for a while <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oceaneyesinla · 2 days

Text

I'm Here

So, Demon Slayer is back and Sanemi is looking GOOD. Combine that with me struggling, and you get self indulgent fluff

Mentions of non-sexual nudity ahead, and the fic kind of implies reader is struggling mentally. Take care of yourselves, guys <3

Enjoy!

Banner by @/cafekitsune

“What's going on with you, baby?” Sanemi's voice cut through the static in your mind, soft and soothing. He rounded the couch, flicking on the lamp next to the armchair and bathing the room in soft warm light.

You hadn't even noticed your boyfriend come in, and when you looked around the room, you were confused to see inky black through the apartment window. You swore it had been bright outside not that long ago. When your eyes finally trailed up to his face, you hated the worry lining his handsome features. Worry that you caused.

“‘M fine, Sanemi. Just tired.” Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth either. You were tired, but it was quickly becoming apparent that you were anything but fine. A fact you knew all too well, but were powerless to do anything about.

Sanemi moved closer in slow steps, almost as if you were some skittish doe he didn't want to scare away. He knelt in front of you, one hand resting on your knee while the other came up to cradle your face. Warmth bled from his palm into the skin of your cheek and you shivered - a chill had developed while you were sitting there zoning out, and it was only now you realised you felt cold.

“Did you eat today?” You wanted to lie, to spare him the worry, but it was impossible with the way those violet eyes stared into yours. Some scared, hurting part of you expected resentment or anger - wanted it, even - but all you could see was loving concern. Guilt and shame bubbled up in your chest as you shook your head; a tiny gesture that he noticed anyway.

The hand on your cheek moved a little higher, and the pad of his thumb brushed over the bags you knew were sunken under your eyes, a permanent feature these days. You had tried so hard not to burden Sanemi with how awful you felt, but you knew the signs were becoming too obvious for such an observant man to not notice.

“Okay. You go shower; get into some warm clothes. I’ll see what we’ve got in the cupboards, okay?” His voice was still soft and his hand was still a reassuring presence on your thigh. However, just the thought of everything involved with showering overwhelmed you. You would have to pick up clean towels from the cupboard, and clean clothes from the wardrobe. Then you would have to actually get into the shower, and you knew your hair needed washing, and on a normal day, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Today, even getting off the couch right now felt like it would take all your energy. Tears welled in your eyes and began to slip down your cheeks as you sat there, paralysed, “I-I can’t.”

If Sanemi was surprised by your sudden tearfulness, he didn’t show it. He moved closer, your legs opening to let him slot between them. Wrapping you up in an all encompassing hold, one hand landed on the back of your head and the other wrapped around you, cradling you against his body as you cried into the crook of his neck.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, slotted together like puzzle pieces. You stayed with your face pressed into his neck, and slowly, you relaxed into his warmth. Everything seemed a little less overwhelming, a little less terrible when you were pressed this close to the love of your life.

He began to speak and you could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, “Hold on tight.”

You didn’t know what he was planning, but you did as he asked, clinging to him with your legs wrapped around his waist. A little squeak escaped you as you suddenly moved, and you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as clearly as you heard it next to your ear. He stood up, supporting your body with one hand under your butt and one around your waist.

He started moving around the apartment, and you reluctantly lifted your head to see where he was taking you. As you watched, head resting on his shoulder, he carried you into the bedroom, releasing his hold on your waist to dig around in your drawers. You noticed he was pulling out your favourites, and even the fluffy socks Kanae gave you for your last birthday. As he moved on, you pressed a kiss to his neck in silent thanks, receiving a squeeze to the plush of your butt in response.

In the bathroom, he lowered you gently onto the toilet seat, pulling away and you felt another couple of tears fall as you realised what he was doing. Towels on the rack, shower turned on, your clothes neatly stacked - he was preparing everything for you, making sure all you had to do was get under the spray.

He returned to stand in front of you, hairbrush in hand and pulled you to your feet. Gentle hands turned you around and released your hair from the messy ponytail you had pulled it into. The hairbrush started to run through your hair and Sanemi carefully untangled the knots that had formed from several days of not bothering to brush it out. He murmured quiet apologies every time he hit a snag and soon, the brush was passing smoothly from root to ends. Once he was satisfied, you felt him lean in to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

Turning around, you met his soft smile with one of your own; the action feeling more genuine than it had in days. He reached for the hem of your shirt, eyes flicking to meet yours, “May I?”

At your nod, he lifted the shirt up and over your head, undressing you with the same tender care he had shown ever since he found you sitting on the couch. His skin was warm against yours as he pressed a delicate kiss to your tummy before he slid your underwear down, prompting you to lift each foot in turn so he could remove the fabric and toss it into the laundry basket. Each gentle touch was lifting the clouds from your mind, and you felt more human than you had in weeks.

He was still crouched at your feet, so you bent down to kiss his forehead, lips lingering before you stepped into the shower, the warm water relaxing you immediately. Of course, it was exactly what you needed and the love you felt for Sanemi burned a little brighter.

So focused on the way the water was beating down on your skin, you jumped when hands came to rest on your waist, manoeuvring you so their owner could slip in behind you.

“Sanemi?” You weren’t sure what his plan was, but you let him move you anyway.

It was only when he pulled the shower head down, gently pushing your head back so he could run the water over your hair without getting it on your face that you realised what he was doing. He knew you usually washed your hair every couple of days, and he knew you hadn’t done it in over a week, and after tonight, you knew he had noticed why. So he was doing it for you.

You couldn’t stop the silent tears that fell, and Sanemi was kind enough not to comment on them as he continued, treating your body like the most precious porcelain as he made sure you were clean, occasionally leaving featherlight kisses on your skin. The pure love and tender intimacy in his actions were balms on the countless little wounds in your soul. You weren’t sure you deserved such open affection, but for tonight, you would allow yourself the indulgence.

Sanemi moved to wash himself once you were scrubbed and relaxed, and you watched the defined muscles of his back ripple as he lifted his arms to wash his hair. Muscles that had held you steady all night, carrying your weight like it was nothing. You knew he was aware of your staring because when he turned back to you, he was smirking. Normally, there would be teasing from both sides. Tonight, he would let you drink in the sight of him, and you would allow the little ego boost your adoring eyes gave him.

There were still a million thoughts in your head, a million negative emotions just waiting for their moment to strike. A shower wouldn’t be enough to wash them away - you would need time, and probably some intervention. However, as Sanemi towelled you off and dressed you up, making sure your hair didn’t drip onto your clothes, you felt a little flame of hope start to grow. Your Sanemi would be right by your side.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #sanemi fluff #kny x reader

126 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 8 months

Text

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

10K notes · View notes

biscuitdragonwithastick · 7 months

Text

Minotaur Ranch

cw: cnc, dubious consent, monster fucking, bestiality(?)

Based on the Eggpregtober Fic 3

I keep imagining what it'd be like to work on a Minotaur Ranch.

The beasts mostly keep to themselves, grazing the fields and laying around in the shade. They can act real cute with you sometimes. Nuzzling into your palm when you scratch their head just right. Mooing impatiently to be let out after being cooped up at night. It's easy to forget they're running on primal instinct until one shoved you against a wall and rips through your pants.

That's when you remember the rules of the ranch: Don't pet the Minotaur, Don't feed the Minotaur, and Don't ever present your ass to a Minotaur.

You hadn't thought these rules were that important.

How could you have known that petting and rubbing their bodies with soothing touches would be seen as an act of submission. It never would have occurred to you that feeding them a bit of your lunch every once in a while would be seen as a sign of courtship.

And when you turned around to pick up some equipment off the floor, how could you foreseen that the bull behind you would take it as a sign you were in heat.

Muscular hands hold you off the ground. As your legs dangle below you, you feel the wet muzzle of your Minotaur lick into your neck. It's meant to be a soothing gestures as he lines his bovine cock against your opening, but all you feel is terror at the rough fucking about to take place.

You've seen the ways the Minotaur's fight each other in the fields. It's part of their DNA to show dominance to the weak. You've heard of monster "bitching" before, and you know it's supposed to be an act of ferocious claiming meant to humiliate a subservient other.

You close your eyes, waiting for the pain of being split on Minotaur cock, but instead yelp as they pull you up further off the ground and lick you. Their tongue is long, wet and thick, thicker than a human cock. You can't help but moan as it breaches your hole. That only seems to encourage it, roughly thrusting it's tongue into you as deep as it can go. You writhe in its grip. At the angle its holding you, you can look down and see its tongue pushing your skin taut.

Once it's satisfied you've been opened enough it moves you down, back over its cock and thrusts inside. It doesn't hurt. It's so gentle with you, fucking you like it knows you weren't built for the full force of a Minotaur's strength. You clench down as you cum from the treatment. It bellows loud and low at how good you feel.

It fucks you against the wall like that. Slowly rocking forward into your human frame You can't help but imagine if you had been any other Minotaur. Would it have fucked you harder? Or was Minotaur mating far softer than you gave them credit for? You'll have to answer those questions later. Right now, you just want to focus on your next orgasm.

You know its close when it starts to breathe heavier and thrust a little faster. Wet slapping sounds fill the air as its balls hit your thighs. In one final thrust, it groans and hot cum fills you. You can feel its balls draw up behind you. You didn't realize how long a Minotaur could cum until minutes passed and you were still being filled. Most of it has pooled between your legs and onto the floor, but your bulging tummy is aching from what little can fill it.

But you love it. You loved being bred by your bull. You wished you could be fucked over and over again just like this.

As it pulls out of you and holds you limp in its grasp, it hands you over to another Minotaur. The whole herd had watched you be claimed, now they think your a mare in heat. You can't blame them. As you spread your legs for the next bull, you think about how good it is to work on a Minotaur ranch.

#monster breeding #monsterfucker #terato #monster x reader #minotaur #nonspecified gender #might need to update my banner if I keep up the monster fucking #is it so bad that i want to be held down and fucked by a monster #Biscuit tumblr fic

6K notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 4 months

Note

i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼

sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3

“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”

your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”

“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.

you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”

he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”

“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”

your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.

“found you!”

your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”

“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”

you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”

“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.

“yes, and I hate it.”

he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”

and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.

satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”

s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.

satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”

satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.

satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”

s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.

he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”

“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.

so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”

your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.

he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”

“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”

s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.

satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.

s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.

your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.

your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.

your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.

satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”

“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.

he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”

your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.

after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.

once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.

caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.

your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.

he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.

your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”

s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”

satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.

“mama!”

“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.

and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.

he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.

“s/n, look at mama!”

“yay!”

after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”

“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”

“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”

your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”

“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.

you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”

you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”

your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“

he perks up.

“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”

and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis @hearts4itoshi @sleepyxxhead @dunixxd

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

5K notes · View notes

torpublishinggroup · 2 months

Text

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

#tor books #booklr #new books #in the lives of puppets #tj klune #tbr #sff #science fiction #team robot #unreality #long post

3K notes · View notes

thewinchestah · 3 months

Text

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: i lost count. it's big.

| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!

Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths.

He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.

Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you.

He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room.

“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.” Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head

“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.

“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.

“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie”

As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming.

“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.

“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness.

Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.

And as quick as it started, it was over.

Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away.

It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place.

“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”

Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon.

They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it.

Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair.

Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward.

You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen.

Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine.

“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.

Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile.

Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.

“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first.

He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin.

Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-

“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me”

You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors.

This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”.

“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash.

He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.

the door locks behind you.

if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class.

“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence.

“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out

“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room”

Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.

Twice now, in a sing-song voice.

Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???

“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?”

Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?

“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-

“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”

You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it.

Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission.

“Take my breath away, Alastor”

Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious.

Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back.

“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.

It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.

Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard.

You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.

Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.

“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie

“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it.

“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.

“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.

He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.

“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him.

His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.

“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing

“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him, making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down.

Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started”

his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper

“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way”

Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs.

His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver.

Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control.

The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.

You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.

Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined he would, if he had more time to work on you.

You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much.

“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more.

The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you.

Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure.

He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.

Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.

“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”

You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.

“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.

his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.

Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.

“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”

Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame”

He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this pain of being broken feels good.

Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face.

Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.

Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth.

“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”

You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this” Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”

You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice

“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again

“Good girl, you can come now”

instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture.

You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep.

The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”

You might be dreaming now.

You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.

#hello guys im insane can you tell?#eu escrevi isso aqui na força do odio puro e genuino de quem ta sendo xingada no twitter tem dias #alastor #alstor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor fanfic #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin fic #autora também está no cio #serio aquela msuica sento no bico da glock rebolo e tiro o short e vem vamo fudeee o gabriel tirou o meu cabaço e me botou de quatro nao #sai da minha cabeça #aquariano nato também não #QUEBRA A CAMA DESSAS PUTAAAAAAAAA #baixaria

2K notes · View notes

strawberrysturniolo · 5 months

Text

goal // hockey!chris

summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game

part two

“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2.

I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie.

I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention.

I love you.

I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent.

In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed.

“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game.

I nod, trying my best not to distract him.

We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.

We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands.

We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games.

Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout.

I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.

“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me.

My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off.

A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other.

“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says.

I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player.

I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots.

“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”

I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point.

With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart.

“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight.

Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet.

My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw.

“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”

Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger.

“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch.

“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart.

I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”

I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay.

About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering.

“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag.

I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me.

I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.

“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid.

Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”

I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game.

When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face.

He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head.

“What happened?”

He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.”

I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in.

“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”

I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”

He shakes his head.

“Tell me,” I plead.

“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”

“I want to know what he said!”

“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“Yes!” I argue.

“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”

I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me.

Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag.

He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth.

“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.”

I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water.

“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly.

“I’m not surprised.”

“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”

We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.

“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”

He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”

He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

“I know.”

“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.”

“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”

He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”

A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”

His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”

I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

#sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

2K notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 months

Text

Alludes to Miguel bring depressed, usage of alcohol.

Thinking about heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who spent the next week rotting in bed whenever he could, curtains drawn shut and sad music playing from his phone as he scrolled through all your old photos together. Feeling exactly how he did when you two had split 9 years ago.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who started to reply the last 12 years over and over in his head, from the moment he sat next to you during his first stats lecture to the moment he found himself in front of your front door in an attempt to ask for a second chance only to find out it’s too late form the smirk on your new boyfriend’s face. To the point of him getting distracted during everyday activities, like over serving his coffee and sitting at a greenlight until someone honked at him.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who starts to have trouble keeping up with his physical appearance. The same man who could get the asscrack of dawn to go on a run or to the gym, always clean shaved, hair always slicked back, never in his pjs unless need be, started to walk around with a 5 o'clock shadow, starts to drop off or pick his daughter up in his sweatpants and tank top he sleeps in, eyes more sunken in they they usually are.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who has a silent breakdown everytime you post something while out on a date with your new boyfriend.having to grip his phone so hard to the point his knuckles turn white to stop himself from bursting into tears while Gabriella is eating dinner in the next room.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who had a few too many drinks while Gabri was at a sleepover, calling up first his younger brother then his best friend. Rambling about how he should have seen the signs sooner, how he should have never let you go in the first place, because now you were in the arms of another man, and considering that it’s been over 3 months it looks like he’s there to stay.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who thought he was hallucinating from drinking too much when you showed up at his place at 11:30 at night

—

“I-I just, if… if I knew that I still loved-“ he interrupted himself to hiccup before continuing to speak to Peter over his phone, placing down another empty beer bottle on his living room coffee table. “I still loved her, I wouldn’t have let-let her get a new boyfriend in the first place ya know?” He slurred, hearing Peter’s response but none of the words registering. His mind calmed from the temporary haze the alcohol provided.

Knock knock.

Miguel rolled his eyes with a groan as he slowly got up from his seat on the couch. “I thought I told you I didn’t need you to come over Peter.” Miguel said as he grabbed the empty bottles and quickly placed them in the kitchen, his friend on the phone expressing his confusion as Miguel made his way to the front door with his phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Huh? I’m not at your door-“ The rest of the sentence turned into background static, not noticing Peter’s calls for him and asking if he was listening. Miguel was too busy being in shock. He blinked once, twice.

You were still there.

Bloodshot eyes, runny nose, rosey and tear stained cheeks, your shoulders shaking a bit as you hugged yourself. He didn’t even get a chance to ask what was wrong before you spoke.

“Can I come in?” You croaked, throat tense as you attempted to keep your voice from wavering.

He opened the door wider.

—

Part 4<

Part 5.5<

Not proofread.

Word count: 600

Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @strawberryjuice9 @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @lauraolar14 @migueloharasoulmate @famouscattale @loser-alert @maomaimao @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @miguelsfavwife @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

i'm obsesseeeed with dr. rem and i have a request for him if you're up for it!! <33 maybe reader gets into an "accident" (nothing serious) while working and remus finds out when he sees her in the hospital? like she didn't have time to call him and let him know so he suddenly just sees her and freaks out for a bit before realizing she's okay? thank you so muchhhh 💗

I'm obsessed with him toooo it's bad ! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

cw: minor head injury

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your eyes water, but you do your best to keep them open as the girl in scrubs points her light in each one.

“Your pupils look alright,” she decides, clicking the light off and giving you an apologetic smile when you blink in relief. “Have you felt nauseous at any point since it’s happened? Dizzy?”

You shake your head no to both, wincing a bit as the clear bag of ice you’re holding to the back shifts slightly.

“That’s good.” She nods encouragingly. She seems young and somewhat green, probably one of those pesky residents Remus is always griping about. Though she’s trying to project the same seasoned calm as the other doctors and nurses moving about the A&E, there’s a quiet anxiety about her that you recognize. It’s the same one you carried during the first month at your job, the possibility of getting in some kind of trouble seeming to loom over you constantly. She’s pretty, you think, and she seems nice. Like she genuinely cares, a massive improvement over the woman at the front desk who’d given you a look so judgemental that it’d made you feel even more embarrassed for being here. “And you’re sure you didn’t lose consciousness at any point? Even for a second?”

“I don’t think so,” you say. “I mean, I would have noticed, right?”

She squints like she’s not quite sure what to do with that, and then you perk up as a familiar rhythm gets your attention. You wouldn’t have guessed you could do it outside of your shared flat, but you pick out the sound of Remus’ footfalls a second before he comes into view. He’s striding briskly across the room, skimming something on his clipboard, and he gives the swath of curtained rooms little more than a cursory glance as he passes—until his eyes flare, snagging on you.

You raise your hand in a sorry wave.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, doubling his pace to get to you. His attention moves to the bag of ice you’re holding to your head. “You’re hurt?”

“I bumped my head at work,” you explain with a shrug. The resident looks between you like she’s unsure if she should continue, clearly outranked by the other doctor in your little room. “It’s not bad, but my boss said I had to come here.”

Remus’ lips tug downward, taking the ice from you and tilting your head so he can see it. “You hit your head and you didn’t call me?”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him. “My boss just made me come in as a formality. For liability reasons, you know?”

Remus remains uncomforted. He murmurs a quiet direction to the resident so the poor girl steps back from you. You shoot her an apologetic look as your boyfriend takes your head in both hands, prodding at the tender spot on the back. You wince, and he makes a very unprofessional cooing sound, stroking his thumb next to the nonexistent wound.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Even his dubious tone is gentled for you, the pinch of his mouth more worried than vexed.

“It hurts,” you admit, “but only like any bruise would. It didn’t even break the skin, Rem, I’m totally fine.”

He looks at the resident. “Any symptoms of a concussion?”

“No,” the girl chirps nervously. You wonder that anyone could be nervous around Remus, but you suppose he is sort of like one of her bosses. “Pupils are normal, no dizziness or headaches, no reactions to light or noise, and no signs of confusion.”

He nods, still frowny. You think he could stand to show her some appreciation, but this may not be the time to bring it up. “Alright, you can go. I’ve got this one.”

“Thank you,” you say after her, and she flashes you a tiny smile before Remus eclipses your vision, taking your face in his hand.

“You were fully honest, right?” he asks you sternly. “Didn’t downplay anything?”

“I didn’t.” You summon your most placating tone, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I’m really fine.” You rub your thumb into his pulse point. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, everything was just moving so quickly. I wouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret or anything.”

Remus lets out a long exhale, leaning forward so that his nose rests on your forehead. “I know you wouldn’t,” he murmurs. “But do you have any idea how scary it is to see someone you love in A&E, where you work, when you thought they were just going about their day unharmed?”

Your heart contracts as the severity drains from his tone, replaced by a dull rawness. “I don’t.” You slide your touch up his arm to his bicep, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. But I am unharmed, see? It’s all good.”

He grunts fondly, kissing your forehead as he straightens. “Who drove you here?”

“Marcus.” You’ll have to make your coworker some cookies or something as a thank-you gift, though you’re sure getting a half hour off work to chauffeur you here wasn’t an entirely unwelcome break.

“And where is he?”

“Back at work. He dropped me off.”

Remus brow puckers. “He left you here?”

“Well, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do,” you say, shrugging. You feel a bit sheepish, though you’re not sure why.

“Still.” His jaw ticks. “Okay, I get off in less than an hour. Do you think you can sit tight until then? I’ll have someone bring you some fresh ice.” He levels your sloshy bag of ice with a disapproving look you want nothing to do with. “And did you eat lunch before your shift?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you say. “But I don’t need you to drive me home, Rem. There’s a bus stop right outside of here.”

He scoffs. “I don’t care if you don’t have a concussion, I’m not letting you take the bus after you’ve just hit your head.” He squeezes your shoulder, thumb pressing into your collarbone. “I’ll have someone bring you a snack.”

“It’s just a bump,” you argue, but Remus ignores you.

“Try to leave, and I’ll be very cross with you,” he threatens as he walks away. “Cuddles are a privilege that can be revoked.”

1K notes · View notes

bloomingdog · 3 months

Text

Price with an ADHD reader

So self indulgent!

John Price who feels self-conscious thinking you like Soap more because of your similar personalities.

Soap and you are a tumultuous pair, feeding off each other’s energy, you’re good friends, you hang out together just the two of you. He’s not jealous, especially not of Johnny, but he does feel a pang of self-consciousness at times, feels bad about not being able to keep up with you sometimes, about not being enough. He wouldn’t share those thoughts with you, more of an inside thing, he feels silly. Of course those doubts melt away as soon as you’re telling him about how your day went, about how much you missed him, about what reminded you of him. All the possible doubts he had leaving as he gets showered with kisses.

John Price who just stands and watches when you get the zoomies.

A sudden burst of energy has you walking up and down the house following John around, jumping from topic to topic to the latest song lyrics or idle dance move stuck in your head. He watches in amusement and tries to engage in your jumping conversation.

John Price who falls asleep during your late night yapping and still responds with nonsense answers while asleep.

“-And yeah apparently emus can’t walk backwards, don’t you think that's weird? How can an animal just not do that?” Your before-bed rant has been going on for longer than usual, inspired by a Wikipedia rabbit hole that still lingers in your phone’s history.

“Does Laswell know?” He mumbles.

“About emus?”

John Price who’s reluctant to lay on top of you if you ask.

“Please, please, please it’ll feel good!”

“Love, I’d crush you.” He had gotten you a weighted blanket for this exact reason. “Ain’t the blanket enough?”

“No! Because the blanket’s cold and you’re so much better better!” He’s reluctant, your puppy eyes are working overtime getting him to agree, which he does, of course.

John Price who just sighs and plays along when you ask him to wrestle you.

In your defense, it' was's a good way to get rid of extra energy or help while understimulated. He’s currently got you in the loosest headlock he can manage while you kick and thrash.

“Are you tired yet?” No answer comes, just more kicking that makes him release you.

As you try to attack him again, John effortlessly picks you up and throws you on the bed, which earns him a fit of giggles followed by an attempt to tackle him that ends you back in bed.

John Price who comforts you if you ever think you’re too much for him.

Big tears are coming down your eyes and wetting your face, you couldn’t pinpoint where all these feelings came from. You’ve got your face against his chest, voice shaking as you explain how you feel.

“I’m just a lot, you know? And I need you all the time and you like being alone and i want to give you space and I try, but I’m too much and-”

“Okay love, c’mon, none of that.” He cut you off after probably the thirtieth ‘and’. “We need what we need, and we work ‘round that all the time, don’t we? You’re not too much, you’re good just the way you are.”

John Price who lets you use him as a human fidget.

You’ve been waiting in this queue for no more than 5 minutes and it’s still getting you impatient, he notices, of course. The rapid looking-around, your foot tapping are all tell-tale signs of it. He extends his hand to you, which you take, and begin fidgeting with his digit and gloves, it keeps you well occupied, concentrated in the repetitive moments as time passes.

John Price who <3

#i caved and wrote for him and ill write for my babygirl soap in due time as well.....#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #cod x reader #cod mw2 fanfic

872 notes · View notes

eat-limes-bitches · 7 days

Text

Southern Cookin'

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS!Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: When Bucky and Sam get stranded in a Storm, they go to the nearest place they can, Bucky’s country home, but what happens when Walker shows up at the front door too?

WARNINGS: Fluff! Touch of angst, angry southern woman (this is a definite warning, if you've lived with one, you know."

Word Count: 1844

A/N: It's been storming its butt off here down south and as I was baking brownies this idea popped into my head and made me giggle, so I hope yall get a chuckle out of it too! Stay safe out there <3

Enjoy! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

The mission was a disaster. Not only had they just got their asses kicked, but they also had to deal with the Bullshit from John Walker and then the country sky opened up with an early summer thunderstorm, drenching the two men with its torrential downpour.

“We are hours away from the nearest safe house.” Sam sighed, looking at the database.

Bucky looked over at his teammate, Sam was suppressing a shiver each time the wind blew. His split lip and bruised cheek getting more gnarly with each passing minute. He looked up at the sky, the dark swirling clouds showing no signs of letting up any time soon. Fearing for Sam's health and with no other option in sight, Bucky let out a sigh.

“I know a place.” Sam raised a curious eyebrow but didn't ask any questions, the idea of a warm shelter too tempting to risk Bucky changing his mind. Bucky looked around for a moment, to Sam it almost seemed like he was calculating his location based on the landmarks before giving a little nod.

“Should be just on the other side of this field. 15-minute walk give or take.” Bucky concluded, making his way through the field, Sam not far behind him.

Soon, the pair found themselves on the front porch of an old country farmhouse, the white porch swing swaying violently as the storm picked up. Bucky reached for the doorknob before pausing and looking over his shoulder at Sam, fixing him in his infamous glare before uttering a low warning.

“Not a word of this to anyone. You hear me?”

Sam was used to Bucky’s gruffness at this point in their partnership but this was a new level of protectiveness that he hadn’t seen before. He raised his hands in a placating motion before agreeing. The tension that seemed to be permanently engraved in Bucky’s form disappeared as soon as he stepped through the door. The sound of their entrance caused a woof to erupt from a room on the other side of the downstairs. Bucky toed off his boots, motioning for Sam to do the same when a rusty-colored dog came rushing into the room through a dog door barking his head off. Bucky let out a chuckle, catching Sam by surprise, watching as Bucky then crouched down to greet the dog.

“Hey whiskey, it’s just me bubba.” Bucky cooed, scratching the pup behind his pointy ears.

“Where’s your momma little man?” Bucky asked the pup, removing his hand as the dog darted off back through the dog door before poking his head back through, watching the two men.

Bucky stood, and followed after the dog, waving Sam along with him. The pair walked through a second door and they were both hit with a wave of warmth, causing Sam to let out a little sigh. The house smelled of cocoa and sugar, the sound of the storm outside blending into the calming atmosphere while a record played in the background. Just as Bucky was about to walk through a little hallway, Sam caught his shoulder, turning Bucky to look at him.

“Man, where the hell are we?” He asked, and then nearly fell out when he saw pink flush the ex assassins cheeks.

“Uh, this is my home. I uh, I live here.” Bucky mumbled shyly refusing to look Sam in the face. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“You live here on your own?” He pressed a little further. Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, I live here with my girl.”

A person appeared from around the hall corner as if on cue, the little red dog hot on her heels. She looked at the two men, her gaze fixing on Bucky. She smiled at him sweetly, brushing her hands off on her apron, leaving floury handprints in her wake.

“Bucky! You’re home!” She waltzed over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pulling back realizing how cold his skin was.

“James you’re freezin’ and gettin’ water all over my hardwood floor.” She scolded him a country accent slipping out as she spoke. She then noticed Sam standing behind him and pursed her lips before fixing Bucky in a glare.

“You brought company over here in an even more sorry state than you and haven’t offered him anything to dry himself off or a fresh change of clothes!” She proceeded to chase the two men up the stairs giving strict instructions to change and dry off while she put a pot of coffee on.

Sam let out a chuckle as the woman made her way back to where he presumed the kitchen was as the pair made their way upstairs.

“She’s a spitfire huh?” Sam asked, taking the change of clothes from Bucky who just shrugged slightly, a soft smile decorating his features.

“Yeah, you could say that.

Now in dry clothes, the two men wandered into the kitchen right as she pulled two batches of brownies out of the oven. She looked up after setting the brownies on the counter, giving a nod of approval seeing the men in a more presentable state. She wandered over to a cabinet throwing it open and reaching for the coffee cups on the top shelf, just out of her reach when Bucky appeared behind her, pulling them down from the shelf and placing them in her hands.

She smiled sweetly up at him before standing up on her toes and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“Thank you darlin’” She smiled softly.

“Of course doll.” Bucky smiled right back, stepping out of her way as she moved away to pour the coffee.

“Sam? How do you want your coffee honey?” She called out, pulling out the cream and sugar.

“Uh, just black is fine. Thank you-” His words faded out, not knowing this woman's name. She handed him a mug with a chicken on it before handing another mug with a goat on it to Bucky before she spoke.

“Y/n.” She sent him a sweet smile before picking up her own mug and leaning into Bucky’s side who had lifted his arm to make room for her.

Sam had a smirk on his face looking between Y/n and Bucky as he spoke, “I didn’t know Bucky had a girlfriend,” He drawled out the word girlfriend, watching Bucky’s cheeks get darker as he looked anywhere but at his partner as Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, he doesn’t want to tell too many people. Somethin’ ‘bout worryin’ for my safety.” She shook her head as if the thought of Bucky trying to protect her made her laugh.

Sam nodded in an understanding fashion. “Does anyone know about your little secret Buck?” Sam teased lightly. Bucky gave a soft smile with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Steve did.” At the mention of the name, the room grew heavy with sadness. Y/n seemed to shift a little deeper into Bucky’s embrace before stepping away cutting the brownies and giving each man a piece.

“So you knew Steve.” Sam started, looking at Y/n thoughtfully.

“Yes, I did.” She started with a sad smile. “It was a bad storm like today, he and Bucky showed up at my door looking like two drowned rats, thinking it was one of the safe houses. Well, they were so pitiful lookin’ that I couldn’t just turn them away. So much like you two, I brought them inside, put them in dry clothes, and made them some coffee.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Bucky set down his coffee cup and went to investigate, leaving Sam and Y/n alone in the kitchen. Y/n reached over the counter and placed a hand over Sam’s.

“Look sugar, I understand why you did what you did.” She said softly. “Do I agree with it? No. Does Bucky agree with it? Of course not.” She let out a sigh before continuing. “But I understand it. But if there is one thing I know about Steve Rogers, is that he wouldn’t have just left anyone with that shield.” She concluded, patting his hand when Bucky let out a shout, causing the pair in the kitchen to dart to the front room.

When they arrived, there was a soaking-wet John Walker and Lamar Hoskins standing on the front porch. Y/n walked up to stand next to Bucky before looking at the two men.

“Can I help you two boys?” She asked, glancing from one to the other. John, seeming to puff up in the presence of a pretty lady, extended his hand out.

“Good evening ma’am. John Walker, Captain America.” Y/n looked from his hand to his face, making no move to accept his handshake.

“Your name very well may be John Walker, but you’re mistaken on the Captain America part sweetheart.” She gave him a once over before continuing, “You look more like a sorry excuse for a rodeo clown on the fourth of July than Captain America, but either way, that didn’t answer my question.”

She took a step up to Walker looking him dead in the eye. “Can I help you?” John seemed to deflate, stuttering over his words trying to make some sort of logical sense. Y/n raised her eyebrows waiting patiently for this worm of a man to get his act together and with no end to his incoherent mumblings in sight, she sighed.

“Well, if you don’t need anything, I’ll have Hades show you out.” She said sweetly. Bucky chuckled lightly before backing up to stand next to Sam.

Sam leaned over to Bucky. “Who the hell is Hades?” Bucky just nodded towards the door as Y/n let out a loud whistle.

“Hades! We have some guests that need to be escorted out.” As soon as the word “out” left her mouth, a huge black Doberman appeared out of nowhere, growling and barking at the two men at the front door. With one loud bark, Walker went flying off the front step and back down the path to where their car was waiting, Lamar, hot on his heels as Hades bounded down the steps chasing them off with Whiskey following suit.

The two dogs watched attentively as the car drove off and once they deemed the men to be far enough away, came bounding back into the house, tongue lolling out of their mouths, causing the trio to laugh until the dogs were inside making a mad dash for the living room.

“Boys! You get back here!” Y/n shouted, grabbing a towel off a nearby chair and chasing after the two soaking wet dogs. Bucky, still laughing, walked over to the door closing it before walking back over to Sam, who clapped him on the shoulder.

“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Sam concluded. “Don’t let her get away.” Bucky smiled watching on in amusement as Whiskey ran by with the towel that Y/n had grabbed to dry him off, with her hot on his heels.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #fatws bucky x reader #fatws bucky #fatws #sam wilson #james bucky barnes #fatws bucky barnes x reader

654 notes · View notes

harrysweasleys · 1 year

Note

38. “stop, please don’t cry.” with Eddie Munson please and thank u bestie <33

a/n: EDDIE MY BELOVEDDDD i haven’t written for him in a little while, sad times. i miss him. thank you for sending a request!!! <3

proving it

Eddie messed up.

Big time.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him, anyone to rub it in. He just knew he fucked up.

That night, while you had been waiting at the restaurant, patiently, dressed in Eddie’s favourite maroon dress, he had been busy with a spur of the moment campaign. Completely forgetting that the two of you had dinner plans.

When he got home that night and saw his uncle’s button up shirt ironed on the back of the couch, his heart dropped. So low he swore it was in his feet. He grabbed the phone with shaky hands, muttering shit, fuck, fuck, shit, even though he knew you wouldn’t pick up.

He’s messed up quite a few times before, but he’s never been this panicked. By messed up, it’s always been things along the lines of; he forgot there was an exam, he forgot to put gas in his uncle’s car. Never with you. Never to hurt you.

He felt like the biggest douchebag in the world, and Eddie knew a lot of douchebags.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” he muttered to himself, eyes squeezed shut as the dulcet tones rang through the phone. The longer they went on for, the more Eddie was certain you wouldn’t pick up. That you were sitting there in your bed, gorgeous hair splayed across your pillow in that dress that damn near brought Eddie to his knees.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slamming the phone and hanging up the call before he rushed to the bowl by the trailer door, scattering through everything to find his keys. He wasn’t even sure if he was wearing shoes or not as he rushed out the door, barely getting the car started before he was slamming his foot on the gas and reversing like hell out of the trailer park.

He probably wouldn’t admit this to you because he knew you’d scold him, but he was definitely speeding and definitely not stopping fully at his stop signs as he charged over to your place. Even though he arrived in record time, it felt like the longest drive of his fucking life.

As he pulled into your driveway, he realized how clammy his hands were. He was nervous. Utterly petrified. Because you — you were the best thing in his life and he fucked up.

He was shaking as he got out of the car and looked up to your bedroom window. Your light was on. You were up there.

Eddie was used to sneaking in and out of your bedroom, but never like this. His heart was beating so fast he was certain his ribs would be bruised. He was practically stumbling over to the lattice against the wall of your home, worried he’d fall off once he started climbing.

Once at the top, he peeked into your bedroom to make sure you were alone. And sure enough, you were. Sitting on your bed in a large hoodie with your legs under the blanket, you sat staring up the ceiling.

It crushed Eddie’s chest and he couldn’t help but knock on the window right away. He really had no time to waste.

You jumped, nearly falling off the bed as you clutched your hand to your chest, glaring over at the window with squinted eyes to see who was there. You relaxed a bit when you saw who it was, but your features turned into an expression of annoyance in less than a second.

“Come on, baby, please let me explain,” Eddie’s voice was soft, but it was easy to hear through the window of your quiet room.

You stood off the bed and walked over, arms crossed after you unlatched the window.

“I’m only letting you in so you don’t fall to your death. That would be awkward to explain.”

Eddie was grateful as he opened the window and hopped inside, out of the chilly Hawkins night air and into your bedroom. He had been here many times before and he knew it down to every last detail, but he couldn’t even be bothered to look around. His eyes were on you and only you.

His breath was snatched from his lungs as he noticed the slight redness around your eyes.

“Are you going to stand there and stare?” you flipped yourself back down on the bed and looked up at him, “Why didn’t you show up to dinner? I looked like an idiot, Eddie. I’m pretty sure the old couple next to me were talking about how sad it was the whole time. They wouldn’t stop giving me pity looks.”

Eddie’s hands were still shaking as he made his way over to your bed and sat on the opposite end, not trusting his own legs to keep him up at the moment. He was about to collapse.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice came out raspy as he tried not to blurt out a hundred apologies at once, “I’m so, so fucking sorry, baby. I don’t know what happened. I just got so distracted and the guys were pressing about this campaign and—,”

“It’s fine.”

Your voice sounded so quiet that it stopped Eddie right in his tracks. He had planned a hundred things to say to you on the ride over, and each one had ended with him practically on the ground begging for your forgiveness. He didn’t expect this. For you to be brushing him aside and pretending like you weren’t hurt. Hiding your feelings from him because you were so upset.

That, he thought, hurt more than anything.

“No, it’s not,” he pressed on, wanting to lean across and hold you so close, “It’s not okay. I’m the world’s biggest idiot. I really am. I’m so sorry. I swear, I will make it up to you. A hundred dinners. I’ll take you out for a hundred dinner dates and… and I’ll even bring flowers each time.”

You let out a small laugh, and reached up to rub your eye so quickly, Eddie almost missed it.

“No,” his voice cracked as he lost all sense of restraint and leaned over, hand under your chin and scooping you close to him, “No, stop, please don’t cry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I’m mad,” you leaned into his touch, warming his heart, “But I’m not crying.”

He pulled away from you just a tad, raising his eyebrow in an I-don’t-believe-you kinda way.

“Not crying anymore.” You corrected.

That didn’t make it any better, but Eddie didn’t say that. He just pulled you against his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re everything to me, you know that, right? You’re everything and I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you tonight. I really don’t know how it could have slipped my mind. You’re the only thing I’m ever thinking of, especially when we’re not together. I was thinking of you all day and I just… I really don’t know how I could have missed it.” He was talking to you, but most of these words were really just his internal thoughts. He still can’t believe he forgot date night.

“These things happen, Eds, it’s fine,” you fiddled with the hems of your sleeves, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. His heart did a little jolt at the nickname.

“Yeah, but I don’t want them to,” he spoke so quickly he thought you might not even understand him, “I want you forever. I really do. I can’t imagine my life without you and if this is the end, I get it. I don’t blame anyone but myself, but I just wanted to be good for y—,”

“The end?” your eyebrows were furrowed as you cocked your head to the wide, “End? I’m not going to break up with you.”

His reaction was visible. His shoulders slumped in relaxation and his chest let out a massive exhale like he had been holding his breath since he arrived. Even his eyes warmed up and colour returned to his previously pale cheeks.

“Oh, thank god,” he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, “I was so scared. I thought I had unforgivably fucked up.”

He reached out his hands to rub them along your legs, the sweatpants warm to the touch from being cocooned under the blanket for probably a good while. It was comforting. On the way over, he had a moment of worry that he might never get to feel your touch or your warmth again.

He almost crashed the car.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. You did fuck up,” you pointed a finger at him, but there was no hostility in your glare, “But it’s not a relationship-ending mistake.”

He nodded, “I know. I know. But all that matters to me is that I have the chance to redeem myself. To make it up to you.” His voice was still shaky with nerve, but the raspiness had faded away. He was calmer. Reassured.

“Better get started, Munson,” you leaned back into the bed and tucked your legs under the pillows, “I’m expecting a shower of affection and love for the next little while.”

He chuckled, taking off his shoes (that he did actually have on) and sliding into bed next to you, “I’m pretty sure that’s more thrilling for me than you. But I will gladly and willingly show you how I feel about you every second of the day.” He reached under the blankets and grabbed your hand, cold fingers linking with your warm ones, “Can’t have my princess forgetting my love for her.”

You grinned at his words and he felt kind of like the grinch in that scene where his heart grows three sizes larger.

Eddie would never get enough of you and he was going to spend his whole life proving it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson one shots #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fic

7K notes · View notes

bountydroid · 20 days

Text

Darlin' pt 5

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt6

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)

Description: Cooper starts to soften up.

Notes: This one is a bit longer! I might be a little slower between parts from now on as it is finals season and I'll be graduating with my bachelor's degree (yay!) plus I work full time. As always, any critiques are welcome!

The air between us after the hug attempt was thick with tension. We walked in silence as we made our way into the wasteland, clear tracks in the sand making the target easy to follow. I was sure that the look on my face was pathetic, like a kicked puppy. I tried to hide my hurt at first, but it didn't seem like he cared much since he had hardly even glanced at me since we left Ma June's shop anyway. At least I had Whilzig's dog. I knew he was just there to help us track his master, but his presence felt comforting. Without him, I think the tension between Cooper and I would be too much to handle.

I glanced over at the ghoul every so often. I was hoping I would catch him glancing back, a sign that he did in fact, give a damn about me. I felt deflated. Any hope I had about his feelings for me had vanished.

I let a quiet sigh escape my lips as I looked down at my feet.

This seemed to get his attention as he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face me. "Stop it." He said sternly, a look of annoyance on his face.

I was sure that my face did little to hide the horror I felt at his reaction. "I am just tired." I tried to lie.

"Sure." He said back, crossing his arms. He clearly knew I was lying.

I felt anger prickle up inside me. "Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong? I didn't." I exclaimed. "I hugged my friend. At least I thought I did."

He didn't respond to this, instead opting to look out into the never-ending sand.

"Let's just keep going," I mumbled as I stomped past him.

Growing up I loved the sun. I loved to feel its warm rays on my skin as it shined through the window. Now? Now I hated it. We had barely been in the Wasteland that long, and I already felt like the heat was suffocating me. It didn't seem to bother Cooper though. He showed no sign of tiring or discomfort. "One of the perks of being a ghoul I guess." I thought to myself bitterly.

After what felt like ages, our furry companion barked and started running towards a large piece of metal. Cooper and I exchanged looks before picking up our pace to catch up to him.

"What the hell?" I mumbled as I pinched my nose and looked away from the headless body.

Cooper crouched down next to Whilzig, a look of mild confusion on his face before looking out into the wasteland. One of his coughing fits started as he took his pack off of his shoulder and put it on the ground, rummaging through it. He found what he was looking for quickly, a metal tin with a couple of vials of Jet inside. Despite being angry with him, I looked down at him, concern evident on my face. Almost like he could sense it, he looked up at me as he put the vial into his inhaler. His eyes closed and a look of relief washed over his face as he breathed it in. He let out one more soft wheeze as he collected himself.

"Cooper?" I asked softly.

"Yeah, Darlin'?" He replied while getting up from the ground.

"I'm sorry." I started. "I am sorry for huggin' you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His eyes bore into me while he contemplated his response. "You're okay Darlin'." He said quietly. "I am just an ill-tempered old man."

I let out a small giggle. "I would've said cranky, but ill-tempered is a nicer way to put it."

He let out a loud bark of a laugh in response. "Come on let's go find the rest of im'." He said as he patted my shoulder.

As we started to walk away from the body, Cooper let out a clicking noise, getting the dog's attention. The dog barked in response as he chased after us.

"How old are you anyway?" I ask curiously.

He hummed in response, "Old."

I decided not to press it further, his short response suggesting it wasn't something he wanted to discuss. This time, our silent march was much more pleasant. The tension from earlier was gone. I was exceeding grateful for this change. As the sun started to set, I felt relieved. The heat didn't feel quite as terrible as the sun started to fade behind the horizon.

"Good a spot as any," Cooper said as he peaked inside a half-crumbled building.

I sighed in relief. "God my feet are killing me. I think I've done more walkin' with you than I have in my entire life."

He let out a breathy laugh, "And you are gonna do a lot more, sugar."

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep in the sand curled up next to Whilzig's dog.

I slowly peeled my eyes open as I felt someone gently shaking me. My bleary eyes peered up to see the face of my traveling companion.

"Mornin' Darlin'." He smirked at my dazed and exhausted face. "Sleep well?"

I just grumbled in response. I slowly raised to my feet, wincing as the pressure on them began to build. I felt his eyes on me as he raised his bag to his shoulder. I sighed as I reached down to pick up my bag as well.

"When we get this bounty, I am gonna sleep for a week." I say with a soft groan.

"Gimme that." He said as he ripped my bag from my hands and threw it over his empty shoulder. He chuckled at the surprised look on my face. "Can't have your pretty ass slowin' me down."

I stood there for a moment and replayed our exchange in my head before finally running after him. "He keeps calling me pretty." I think to myself while a blush creeps over my cheeks.

"You know," I started, feeling bold. "I think we are a great team."

He glanced over at me, an amused look on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I hummed happily. "I am really glad I met you."

An unrecognizable look washed over his face. Hesitation? Confusion? Fear? It looked like all of those emotions, all at once.

I gave him a weary smile, "Even if you won't let me hug you." I admit.

He hesitated, almost looking like he was going to say something before he stopped himself.

"Hey, Dog Meat!" He yelled up at the dog, "Don't go far."

"Dog Meat?" I mused, "Really?"

"That's what he is, ain't he?" he replied, smirking.

I knew he was trying to change the subject. He was uncomfortable again. So, I decided to let him as I let out a small giggle. "Sure, Cooper."

We continued along, getting closer and closer to the derelict city. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional bark from Dog Meat. We happened upon an oasis, the water inviting, almost trying to trick me into taking a dip. I knew better than that. We could hear a commotion in front of us as we started to slow down, quieting our footsteps. Cooper turned to me and put a finger to his lips, silently shushing me. Someone else was there. The bounty?

No, it was the vaultie. I stayed behind as Cooper snuck up behind her. She only noticed his presence once she heard the cock of his gun.

"Hello again." She said, her eyes filled with fear.

He greeted her by hitting her over the head with the butt of his gun. I grimaced as she fell to the ground.

"Where is it?" He snarled. "The head."

She whimpered on the ground quietly while Cooper picked up her bag and emptied the contents into the dirt.

Cooper got angry as he realized the head wasn't there. He cocked his gun again, ready to shoot her.

"Okay, okay, I don't know where it is. Okay? I lost it." The vaultie begged. "I lost it."

Cooper let out a soft hum as he looked around, it seemed like he already knew what he was looking for when he put his boot in a pile of dung. I made a disgusted face.

"Did you seriously have to do that?" I mumbled. This brought the vaultie's attention to me. She was so caught up in her fear of Cooper she didn't even realize I was there.

"A gulper got it, huh?" He said as he turned back to the vaultie before grabbing her by the hair.

She cried as she begged for mercy as he dragged her to the dock. Once there, he tied a rope with an anchor on the end around her body as well as bound her feet. I just watched from afar, feeling slightly bad for the girl. Dog Meat was barking so loudly I could hardly hear them.

"Stop! Please!" She begged as she wiggled, trying to break free. "My dad, he's an overseer. He got taken by Raiders and I need that head to get him back. If you help me find him, he'll do whatever you want!"

Instead of responding, Cooper just pushed her into the water. The rope she was bound with was connected to a piece of metal I did not recognize, but it kept her from sinking to the bottom. She splashed around as she panicked.

"Stop! Stop! Torture is wrong!" She cried out when he brought her back up out of the water.

Cooper let out a scoff. "You know, they used to do these things called studies. Why, you couldn't open a newspaper without reading about one study or another. Anyways, one particular study came out and it said torturing a person, don't do shit." He replied as he dropped her back into the water briefly before bringing her up again. "It made sense. I mean a man hurts me? I wouldn't want to do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marches on, I've personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board." He continued as he picked off a small creature from her back and fed it to Dog Meat.

"Sir, please. I need the head. It's the only way I can get my father back." The vaultie begged again. I admired her spirit. I debated asking Cooper to stop, but I bit my tongue instead.

"My point is," Cooper replied, ignoring her pleas. "If you ask me, them studies, they were right. Torturing a person don't do shit."

"Then why are you doing this?" She asked, exasperated.

"Well, I ain't torturing you, sweetheart. I'm using you as bait." He explained before dunking her in the water again. I hated to admit it, but I felt a tiny bit of jealousy in my chest at the nickname. I knew I shouldn't be jealous, he obviously held little love for her.

Cooper started to whistle as he got closer to the edge of the dock like he was beckoning something near. It was at this point that I realized I had been slowly inching closer to them this whole time as my feet finally met the dock.

"What is a gulper?" I asked Cooper curiously.

"A monster, darlin'. Careful." He said, realizing how close I was getting to the water. He grabbed his knife off the wooden box he put it on earlier and tied a rope around it. He clearly had a plan.

The vaultie started crying out in the water and flailing around even more than usual. This caused Cooper to try and lift her out of the water again, but the machine he was using was stuck.

"Cooper!" I cried out, realizing she was going to drown.

He sprang into action as he grabbed a hook, moving the entire machine to pull her out. As she was pulled onto the dock, a giant pink creature followed her. He was right. That was a monster. I ran up to the vaultie and grabbed her shoulders as I tried to pull her away, but the anchor tied around her was stuck in the gulper's mouth. She kicked at the creature violently as Cooper stuck it with his knife. The gulper got ahold of her leg and swung her around, pushing me into the water. I thrashed around as I tried to find something to hold onto.

"Cooper!" I yelled before I finally was able to grasp ahold of the dock. I could hear the tussle above me and the gulper finally cry out and fall back into the water.

I could hear Cooper gasping for air as he crawled over to me. "Give me your hand, sugar."

I quickly did as I was told. He pulled me out of the water and onto the dock with ease. He got up and looked out into the water, wincing as he realized the head was gone once again.

"Cooper," I said softly. "Your bag."

He moved swiftly, going straight for his tin of Jet. At the realization that it was completely crushed he pointed his gun back at the vaultie.

"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" The vaultie yelled back.

Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.

I finally stood up and waddled my way over to him. My clothes were soaked, uncomfortably sticking to my skin. This caught his attention, he put his hand on my cheek as he briefly scanned my body, looking for injuries. "I am fine." I hummed, my heart squeezing in my chest at his show of affection. It wasn't much, but it showed how much he cared.

"You can't treat people like this!" The vaultie interrupted.

"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."

I gave her an amused look as I let out a small laugh. "The golden rule, huh? I don't think he follows that."

"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself.

I put the hand on his shoulder reassuringly, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at me for a second before hurrying over to pick up our bags. "We gotta go." He pulled out his lasso and made his way to the vaultie.

"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."

"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.

"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.

"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.

"What about the dog?" I asked, scurrying after him.

"He ain't ours." He responded curtly.

I frowned at him. I had gotten attached to Dog Meat, but the determined expression on Cooper's face kept me quiet. Wherever we were going, it was important.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv series #the ghoul x reader #fallout

474 notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 21 days

Text

Recreatinal Fun

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: You work at the sporting good's store where you first meet Art. He casually flirts with you while buying a tenis racket. You close the store early to hook up with him in the back.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Female Recieving Head, Sex At Work, Semi Public Sex, Cumshot On Belly.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was pretty slow today, a father and son duo coming in looking for cleats. An older woman looking for a swim cap for her water aerobics class. You were cleaning the register counter, trying to pass the time when Art walked in. He was wearing a hoodie and shorts, it was raining so his hair was wet and in his face. He came up to you with a smile, asking where the rackets were. You set your rag down to direct him to the display.

“Normally I would recommend one but I don’t think I need to for a pro,” you said.

“Well, this will only be for recreational fun. I can’t take my lucky one into the gym, it’ll be tainted with desperation,” he laughed, grabbing one of them.

“Are you in town for the fundraiser tournament?” you asked.

“I am, are you?” he asks.

“No, I grew up here. I just graduated and I’m working here till I start college this spring,” you explain, playing with your necklace.

“Hopefully I’ll see you there,” he said as the two of you walked towards the register. What a day to go commando you thought to yourself. The entire time you talked, you couldn’t stop staring at his lips. So pink; they were practically red. He handed you a credit card, his fingertips brushing against your hand as you grabbed it. Looking up at the T.V while you finished ringing him up, making his jaw line dangerously sharp. You handed the bag over, expecting that to be the end of it.

“Do you mind if I look around for a while?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out,” you laughed, going back to work and stalking the shelves.

It was hard to keep your eyes off him, continuously catching each other in a glance before looking away. He would squeeze past you in a particularly small aisle. You were starting to feel like he was trying to get your attention. Constantly coming up and asking questions that he should know the answer to as a pro athlete. After playing this little game for a while you determined he was trying to get your attention. Having enough, you decided to break the ice and approach him again.

“Are you doing anything right now? Like, are you free for the next couple hours?” you ask.

“No, why?” he asked, setting down the merchandise he had in hand.

“Do you wanna hook up in the back?” you asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

His eyes widened and a smirk creeped onto his face. You walked over towards the front of the store; changing the open sign to closed and locking the door. Grabbing him by the index finger and leading him towards the back of the store. You opened the wooden door and led him to the small hallway where the inventory was.

Turning around and gazing up at him, the look in his eye immediately making your sex feel warm and achy. He grabbed your face and pressed his bottom lip against yours; like he was feeling out the territory. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth. Swiping your tongue along his soft, warm lip.

He deepened the kiss, now becoming more comfortable and sloppy. Picking you up and setting you on the small table pressed against the wall. He got between your legs that were dangling, pressing his body against yours. Working your lips together while melting your body’s to each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently pulling him closer. Running your fingers through his soft hair as he tried his best to feel up every inch of your body. You reached down and started to unbutton your jeans, kicking off your shoes in the process. He pulled away and unexpectedly got on his knees. Grabbing your ankles and positioning your feet on the desk and holding them there. You have a feeling what’s coming next so you pull your panties to the side so he doesn’t have to.

He buries his face in your folds, licking and lapping desperately. Your head falls back against the cement wall. Gasping every time his tongue flicked over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body. His hands eventually moved from your ankles to your inner thighs; his thumbs caressing your flesh that was prickled with goosebumps. He couldn’t get enough of you, feeling how hot and swollen your sex was against his lip made him shudder with pleasure.

You were pulling and yanking at his hair; drowning in pleasure while he ate you out.

After a while of this, he stood up; chin dripping with drool and your wetness. Smashing his mouth against yours, sloppily working your lips together. His dick throbbed while he thought about how you were tasting yourself. Pulling back and leaving a trail of saliva that connected your lips. He brought his hand to his mouth and wiped the drool off, using it as lubricant to stroke himself easier. Lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside you.

Your warmth envelops him completely in the most overwhelming way. Feeling his length pulse once he was fully bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours as he slowly started pulling out and fucking back in. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding onto your ass. Pulling you into each of his thrusts. Hearing the wet noises along with the sound of skin slapping skin made your blood buzz. The slight sting paired with the pure pleasure every time his tip slid against your walls was a euphoric combination.

He was letting out raspy breaths, thrust becoming harder. Like he was losing care about your pleasure; too focused on chasing his own high. You mewled as his tip started hitting your g-spot, racking your nails down his back. Letting your mind go empty as a wave of overwhelming pleasure ripped through your body.

He pressed his hips against you, burying himself as deep as possible for a couple seconds just before cumming. Wanting to enjoy your heat a little longer before pulling out and cumming on your belly. Rubbing his tip around in the mess before pulling away and getting dressed. You followed suit, after using a paper towel to clean up the mess.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x fem reader #art donaldson smut #art challengers #the challengers fanfic #The challengers smut #challengers #challengers x reader

507 notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

Text

Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who insisted on waiting for you in the corner of the room while you did the table reading, rather than go wait in the car or around the lot like the rest of the cast’s personal security did.

Bodyguard!Miguel whose eyes never left your presence, it took you a minute to shake off the feeling, you always felt his eyes burning holes into your back when you were doing something and he couldn’t be right next to you. But after a while, you finally got yourself into the groove of the script material.

Bodyguard!Miguel who-despite mentally checking out ten pages into the script-was still able to pick some stuff up. It was a romance, he wasn’t surprised, since romcoms tend to sky rocket careers these days.

It was a period piece. Your character, who was named Anastasia, was a princess who was coming near the time where she had to be married off to someone else at a neighboring kingdom to be crowned as their queen, the problem is, that your character’s heart already belongs elsewhere, in the hands of one of the royal guards who worked in the castle.

That was all Miguel had really picked up.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finally tones back in when the reading was finished, hearing the head director tell everyone about how they’ll be receiving their schedules through their managers, before dismissing everyone (not before having everyone sign his copy of the script so that the marketing team can post it to social media later).

Bodyguard!Miguel who was about to make his way towards you so he could escort you home, but stopped when he saw your coworker who plays the love interest , Peter B. Parker come up to you to properly introduce himself.

—

“Why hello Anastasia.” Peter said as he came up to you with the friendliest smile you’ve ever seen, to which you quickly returned, both of you shaking hands with your free hands as the other held your respective scripts.

“Sir Tristan.” You giggled, calling him by his character name, before pulling your hand out from his. “I’m excited to work with you, I hope you feel the same.”

“Of course I am! Always ready to act with new and fresh faces-“ his phone starts to ring in his pocket, cutting him off, taking out to read the screen before looking back up at you. “I gotta take this, but I’ll keep in touch, I’ll have my manager send you my number in case you ever want tips, or to run lines over.” He told you, tucking his script under his armpit, giving you a quick wave before slipping out of the (now mostly empty) room, answering as he left.

You finally turned and headed to Miguel, who was now waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. Neither of you spoke until you were in the parking lot, that’s when Miguel finally broke the silence.

“So… Parker huh?” It was obvious Miguel had to be a bit familiar with Peter’s work, who wouldn’t be though. He was a big star at the moment, having just come off from the Spider-Man films. Still, you weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you nodded and let out a small “mhm” anyways.

—

Part 1<

Part 3<

Not proofread.

Word count:500

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz @enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 (if you want to be added click here, it’s easier for me then asking in the comments☺️)

551 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 18 days

Note

hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3

Thank you for requesting sweetheart!

cw: signs of anxiety

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page.

Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise.

Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised.

“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist.

“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?”

“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?”

You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.”

“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.”

By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him.

“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?”

“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.”

Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?”

You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.”

“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently.

“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.”

James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?”

“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.”

Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks.

James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.”

“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.”

A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.”

Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says.

You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.”

Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head.

“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?”

Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—”

“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.”

You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent.

You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows.

“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice.

Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.”

Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?”

You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.”

“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.”

“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?”

You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.”

“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”

You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.”

“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”

“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.”

“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you admit.

There’s a brief pause.

“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”

607 notes · View notes