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screampied · 2 days

Note

i’ve never sent a request i hope this makes sense 😭

reader doesnt feel very pretty so suguru fucks reader in front of a mirror + lots of praise

i love love love your work🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

❤︎ ໋𓈒 geto showing you how pretty you are.

warnings. fem! reader, mirror sēx, reverse cowgirl, praise, body worship, overstim, talking you through it, mdni. tysm <3

“. . . ah ah, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” geto hums softly, two soft hands attached to your waist. his touch was always so gentle—you lean back, feeling him bury inside of you before you pause your pace. he brings a kiss towards the crevice of your neck before speaking in a hushed tone. “my baby’s upset.”

“i’m not,” you inhale a sharp breath, and he doesn’t exactly buy it. although, he doesn’t interrupt your saddened words—he allows for you to finish, giving you nothing but his uninvited attention. it’s a long pause before you sigh. “suguru. can i—can i ask you something? be honest.”

he nips another kiss near your neck, moving a hand towards the inner corners of your physique. “why, of course. i’m listening, sweetheart.”

the words that slowly drag out your throat felt so hard to get out. a lump builds up against your esophagus before you swallow, muttering a soft, “do you . . do you think i’m pretty?”

a smile goes against his lips. “honestly, i think you’re more than pretty,” and you let off a moan once you feel his touch skim down your spine. “every chance i stare at your body, my breath gets stolen,” and then he turns your face to stare right into the mirror. “i want you to see what i see, a gorgeous girl on my lap. stunning, is she not?”

albeit, the moment your eyes reach the mirror, you see nothing but the exact opposite of your reflection.

“. . no,” you mumble, leaning against his bare chest. you hear the faint breaths of geto as he’s still stuffing you full with his shaft. your skin against his felt warm, sweltering hot. for whatever reason, your throat started to become dry like the sahara as you resume to speak. “are you just saying that, sugu?”

“oh, i’d never lie to my pretty girl,” and your heart swoons a bit. his words, so tender—easily warming its way into your heart. as you stare into the mirror with him, he leans in to press gentle kisses all against your skin. the hairs beneath your neck stand up and you inhale another sharp breath. “i love you, and if i have to smother you with millions of compliments for you to see the gorgeous girl that i see, then so be it.”

“s—suguru,” you choke out, leaning into his touch. you were so sensitive, and he feels you start to gradually move again. you were so trapped up into your intrusive thoughts that you forgot how you were just about to release. he was right, you knew that. but something within you was telling you that it simply wasn’t the case. “promise?”

he sneaks a final kiss against the shell of your ear. “my love,” he whispers, a hand softly wrapping around your neck. it’s gentle, the tip of his middle finger strums down your throat before he feels the vibrations collide against his single digit. “you are perfect. even if you think otherwise, you’re perfect for me, i promise,” he murmurs, and you could almost cry. words that you always needed to hear, your heart eases a bit before your knees buckle. “i wish i could make you see how pretty you are for me,” and his free arm slides down between your thighs, feeling against your slick entrance. you whimper, slumping way back against his chest. “and i thought it was your eyes that i get lost in,” he simpers once you meet his gaze in the mirror. “the most precious body i’ve laid my eyes upon, just look at you for a second.”

your hips start to make haste again, and he’s quite thick inside you—you gnaw on your lip, staring at geto from the mirror and he smiles.

“. . . from your curves to your skin to every inch of your body,” he rants, a hand slowly making its way to touch and feel against every part of your skin. such soft pads of his fingertips roam everywhere and you can feel yourself staring to drift into a euphoric state. it was approaching, your inescapable orgasm that left such a warm pool to stir into your abdomen. “mwah,” he kisses near the outline of your jaw. “if i could fall in love with you for the first time again, i would.”

“don’t s-say things like that,” you tremble, feeling him gradually split the inside of your cunt open with his cockhead. it felt so good, like it always does—you were quite tense, your shoulders were at least. but with each kiss that geto gives your body it eases you, sending you into a sweet lewd trance. “s-suguru.”

he chuckles. “but baby,” and he’s teasing now, hearing that familiar kittenish tone residing underneath his low voice. “it’s true. i love you, not just for your body—i love your voice, your scent, your touch, the way you play with my hair,” and he pauses, a mere rough groan escaping his lips. he was right up against your ear before he sighs softly. “i love the way you look every time i praise you, especially. the way your pupils dilate and your lips curve into a subtle smile, it’s so adorable.”

“ . . . ”

“aw, too much?” he snickers.

you lie back, rotating your hips a bit as you grind against him in reverse—slow but steady, your hands grip against his thighs before you whine. so close, your release was at the tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it, the taste of your sweetly bitter climax steadily approaching itself.

“i- i love you too,” you mumble with quivering lips, breathy pants shortly following your dialogue. “t-thank you, sugu.”

“don’t thank me,” he whispers, bringing both hands towards your waist for about the nth time now. he runs his fingers up before its at your hips, guiding your movements before he grunts himself. “stare at yourself with me. i want you to see what a pretty girl looks like when she’s about to cum.”

you almost moan from his words alone, you felt so hot — not just from his touch, but the way he spoke to you too. if it was anything suguru geto was good at, it was praising you to your heart’s content.

the more you rode him, staring at your reflection through the mirror with him propped up right behind you—you started to see what he was seeing. perhaps his words were getting through to you, a soft satisfied noise departs from your lips and he pulls you closer. “easy, that’s it. stare at me in the mirror the whole time,” and he kisses your neck again—leaving a trail of his invisible smooches. “i got you, i got you,” and your whines grow a bit more louder. he’s hitting you deep, your head slightly spins before the grip on his thigh tightens. “just make a mess on me ‘n i’ll clean it all up. i’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. even if it’s a little messy, heh.”

a tiny smile tugs against your lips at his comment before you feel the sudden ache underneath your thighs. him talking you through it all in that sly soothing voice, you felt as if you were on cloud nine—the tenderness of geto’s words had your heart feening for more, for more of his love and affection.

“she’s so breathtaking,” he gently cups your chin, staring you right in the eyes—you glance at geto, beads of sweat racing down both sides of his forehead. he was pretty too, his hair was pinned up but a few strands poked out and merely shielded his eyes. every time he looked at you, it was like he was falling more and more in love. a thumb of his plays against your lip before he hums, “my woman. my gorgeous woman.”

the moment you reach your climax, it comes at full speed—you moan loudly, feeling your pussy transmit into a full crazed spasm. your thighs quaver and tremor, and you briefly bite down on your tongue. “. . . s-suguruu,” you whimper out, such sweet candied moans ripping out your throat. he intertwined his fingers with yours his as you rode it out. your hips, sliding back and forth against him still before eventually it comes to a halt. your eyelids became heavy as you lie back, a few strands of geto’s hair tickling against your skin. “f-fuckkk.”

“shhh. breathe for me, baby,” he soft mutters, watching as your twitching body slowly calms itself down after a while. everything felt hot. with your mouth was open, spit-glossed lips parted, you listen. breath after breath gets slower, focusing on your patterns before he kisses the top of your forehead. “good girl, the best girl.”

after a while— it goes silent, you sit there— still siting on his lap with his cock all inside of you before you exhale lowly. “how do we feel now? better?”

you puff out a soft sigh. “a- a little.”

“hey, that’s progress, sweetheart,” he gently coos against your ear. geto smiles once he notices you’re still holding onto his hand. your fingers lock against his before he gives you a little head pat. “sleepy?”

“no.”

it’s a long silence and he tilts his head with an eyebrow raise through the mirror and you pout.

“okay, just a little sleepy,” and you turn around, making him pull out before facing him directly. geto gazes into your eyes before a sheepish grin forms on his face once you kiss the corner of his mouth. “i know i already said it but i love you, sugu.”

“i love you,” he replies, leaning to kiss the top of your forehead for the umpteenth time. “so much more. now let’s get the pretty girl some rest. i’ll even sing you a song to help those eyes close..”

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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 days

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Every Part of You

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series

"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."

You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.

His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."

Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.

"You're so -"

He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."

You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"

He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."

Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.

You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.

Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"

"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."

"But?"

His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."

"Oh."

He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."

It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."

He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"

You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."

He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."

In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.

He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.

It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.

"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."

There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.

"I love you," you remind him.

He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.

Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.

He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.

Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"

He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.

You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he answers reflexively.

You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."

"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."

"Does it hurt now?"

"No."

You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.

"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.

You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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hazelfoureyes · 1 day

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A Doe in Fall (part 6)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 6 Learning

Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」

The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭

Minors DNI 🦌 🚘

You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.

Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.

“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.

No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.

“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.

“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.

As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.

“Not terribly, no.”

When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.

Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.

His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”

He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.

That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.

Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.

“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”

His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.

“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.

“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”

A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”

You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.

Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.

“I missed you.” You cooed.

Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?

Oh that’s right. You’d said something.

“Hmm?”

You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.

For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.

You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.

“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”

His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.

Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.

Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.

“Alastor.”

His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”

“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”

Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”

Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”

A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”

You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.

It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.

Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.

A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.

You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.

When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.

“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.

One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.

You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.

Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.

He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.

“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.

A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.

“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”

What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.

“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.

You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.

Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.

You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.

He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.

“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.

“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.

Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.

A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.

Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.

How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.

A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”

You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”

A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”

You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”

Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.

Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.

You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.

Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.

No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.

Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.

Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.

He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.

You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.

Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.

You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.

How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.

A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.

“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.

You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.

When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.

Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.

As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.

He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.

“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.

“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”

The right answer.

His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”

With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.

Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”

You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”

A nervous smile spread on his face.

“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”

“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.

“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.

“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”

“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”

He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”

“Why would it?”

You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”

It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.

When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.

And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.

But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.

He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.

“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”

You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.

You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”

Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.

You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.

When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.

Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.

“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”

“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?” He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.

“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”

Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.

“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”

Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.

“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”

“Exactly.”

“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”

His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”

“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”

A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.

Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.

“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.

Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”

Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.

“I want to provide for all your needs.”

A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.

You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?

“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”

“I’m not joking.”

The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.

“Look at me.”

Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.

He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.

A deer in the headlights.

He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.

“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”

“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”

Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”

You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.

“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”

He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”

“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”

He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”

“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”

Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar, @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid ,

@sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove@saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , @sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita @radio-darling , @dickmastersworld ld , @leviskittywh0re , @asianfrustration13, @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp , @angelxx7 , @katgirl05 , @impulsivethoughtsat2am , @sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

@mydearmyshkas , @lovely-dove69 @whydosnakesnotdance

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel

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winterrrnight · 3 days

Text

rafe loves to hear you talk and talk about things you are so passionate about… <3 a rafe x reader blurb <3 cw: reader is chatty and rambl-y and is insecure about it, in this scenario reader is extremely passionate about japanese legends, lovesick rafe + casually dominant rafe, intentional lower case <3 just something for me to post after a small break as I work on other projects <3 for @zyafics who is one of the biggest reasons I am feeling motivated to write again <3

“oh here’s another one I read about yesterday!” you say excitedly as rafe squeezes your intertwined hands, smiling at you.

“mhm go on,” he smiles as you both continue to walk on the sidewalk, the full moon shining bright down at the two of you.

“this one is about the red thread of fate, this thread connects two soulmates,” you smile at him. he looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“connects two soulmates?” he echoes, and you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “it’s said there is a man who lives on the moon who comes to earth to show people their futures and who they’ll end up with. he does that with the help of the red thread of fate. he ties this invisible red thread between the two people who are meant to be together. this thread can tangle over the huge distance between the two people, it can stretch, but it will never ever break, and it will always tighten to bring those two people together.

“it also talks about the existence of a red pencil which can trace this invisible red thread, and this pencil gets shorter with its usage.

“oh and, this thread is always tied between the pinkies of the two people. that is because it was discovered a long time ago that our heart is connected to our pinky finger by an artery, which is now called the ‘ulnar artery’. this artery carries oxygenated blood from our heart to our pinky. so, in a way, our heart is directly linked to our pinkies via this artery, so when we make a pinky promise, we are basically connecting our hearts while making the promise. and that is why the invisible red thread of fate is also connecting our pinkies, because it is basically connecting the hearts of the soulmates, and–”

you take a look to your left at rafe, who’s looking down at the sidewalk as you both walk. you got so absorbed in talking you don’t even know if he is still listening or if he has tuned you out. honestly, who can blame him? since you keep on talking too much, anyone would quickly tune you out.

“oh god i’m doing it again aren’t i?” you say nervously as you stop in your tracks on the sidewalk, causing rafe to stop too. he eyes you with furrowed brows and creases on his forehead.

the actual truth is, rafe was thinking about tying a red thread to your pinkies when you both get home, his mind racing on where he can actually find some red thread in his house.

“doing what?” rafe asks softly.

“the, the ramble thing, where i just talk and talk till my mouth falls off,” you sigh, looking down. “I do that way too much, i don’t even know if you want to hear it or not but I just start speaking with no seeming end to my talk whatsoever, and you have to force yourself to listen to it because you got stuck being my boyfriend. and then i just keep on talking without thinking, it’s like my mouth has a mind of its own, I really should start to think–”

you are immediately cut off with rafe’s lips on yours, your eyes widening as you try to adjust to what is happening. rafe’s free hand comes to rest on your cheek to pull you even closer into the kiss, and your eyes flutter shut, letting you get lost in the feeling of him.

rafe gently pulls apart from the kiss, his eyes barely open as he gazes down at you.

“listen to me…” he says softly. “you don’t talk too much. I love hearing you talk. I love the cute expressions you make when you talk about things you are passionate about. I love how much knowledge you have about them and how you want to share it with me. I love the shine in your eyes when you start to talk, and the shine is even brighter under the moonlight. never ever apologize for talking too much because I won’t hear it, and you’ll only end up getting kissed by me each time. you get it?”

you look up in rafe’s eyes with a stunned expression. for the first ever time, you are at a loss of words, and all you can do is nod.

he smiles softly at you, as his thumb caresses your cheek. “words, baby, you hear me?” he says softly.

“yeah…” you let out. “I hear you,”

“good,” he mumbles. “never apologize again, okay?”

“okay,” you whisper.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tugs on your hand gently, both of you now walking again. “come on, continue what you were saying,” he says, urging you to continue about the legend you were talking about.

you nod as you clear your throat before resuming to tell him more, this time not allowing even a single thought to let you stop as the stream of words spills from your lips, and rafe only listens in awe, loving hearing what it is you have to tell him.

#hi hi here's a new blurb :)#hope you all like!! <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #written by edith! 🪄

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moonstruckme · 2 days

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haiii can we get more doctor!remus x whimsical!reader? maybe reader uses crystals and healing music to help remus when he's feeling sad/mentally blocked? no worries if you don't want to, love the way you write them teehee :3

Thanks for requesting babe!

doctor!Remus x whimsical!reader ♡ 870 words

Remus supposes it’s the thought that counts.

He’d come home from work today complaining of a long day and a dismal mood and expecting, perhaps, a kiss and cuddle from you to make him feel better. Instead you’d laid him down on the couch and started placing eclectically-shaped and oddly colorful rocks on his forehead, throat, and torso, and now you’re playing music that sounds like some shit even James wouldn’t be caught listening to.

There’s a muffled noise in the kitchen. Remus cracks an eyelid. Another, and he’s sitting up, catching the stones as they fall from him. You’re kneeling on the counter, reaching for something in the back of the cabinet.

“Oi,” Remus starts to stand, but you turn to face him and hop down without even the decency to look a little abashed.

“Remus.” Your voice is about as stern as a kitten’s purr, but he can tell you’re meant to be remonstrating him as you walk over, pushing him back down by the shoulder. You take the rocks from his hand and start arranging them as they were. “You’re meant to be relaxing.”

“You’re meant to ask me when you need something you can’t reach,” he counters. The stone you set on his throat wobbles as he speaks.

Your eyebrows twitch slightly, as close to a frown as you ever get. “If you get up, you’ll disrupt the healing process.” You place the last rock on his forehead with deliberate care. Remus’ heart thaws some.

“Oh, well. I didn’t mean to disrupt the healing process.”

You smile, seraphim. “You’re being terribly corporeal again.”

“Can you blame me?” He cracks one eyelid to look at you, flirting a bit. “My entire career is based on the corporeal. I’d be out of a job if I started focusing on things unrelated to science.”

You shrug. “There’s no science that says they don’t help, and in my experience they do.”

“The rocks?”

“The crystals, yes.”

Remus hums and turns his palm up. You set your hand in his, smile softening as he starts running his thumb over the delicate skin of your inner wrist. “Tell me what they do, pretty girl.”

Your eyes are busy watching the movement of his thumb, but they flit back up to his at the request. “You really want to know?” you ask.

“I really want to know.”

You situate yourself more comfortably next to his legs on the couch, reaching over to touch the stone on his heart. “This one’s for confidence and calm, and this one—” you touch the one on his throat, careful not to displace it “—is meant to balance your spirit and cleanse your subconscious.”

“Mm. And what does cleansing my subconscious entail?”

“It helps you let go of any preconceived beliefs that may be limiting you.”

“What if I happen to like my preconceived beliefs?”

“Too bad.”

That startles a laugh out of him, and you smile as your fingers brush his neck, ensuring the stone doesn’t fall.

“Alright, what’s the last one do?”

“It gives you inner strength and motivation,” you say, quiet and certain. “I imagine you’ll need it for the rest of the week, seeing as it’s only Monday.”

Remus has no argument for that. He probably will need it.

“Is the music helping?” you ask.

He hesitates. “It sort of feels like I’m meant to be dancing with faeries in some secluded forest. Is that what it’s supposed to do?”

You turn so he can’t see your face, but your smile is in your voice. “That’s not inaccurate, but I can change it if you like.”

“That might be best. Thanks, dove.”

“Course,” you whisper, and then the music cuts out, replaced by the trinkling sounds of water. Rain sounds. Some tightly wound muscle in Remus’ head relaxes.

“Thanks,” he says again, quieter now. The room feels suddenly like a sanctuary he doesn’t wish to disrupt. Either those rocks of yours are actually doing something, or you’re just emanating enough love to heal him all on its own.

When you speak, it’s in an equally soft voice. “I’m going to get on the counter again,” you warn, “and I don’t want you to come after me, please.”

Remus sighs his acquiescence. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you promise.

He hears the quiet thudding of your knees hitting the counter and opens his eyes, watching as much as he can in his periphery as you root around in the cabinet. Something crinkles just before you hop down.

“What did you need in there so badly?” he asks curiously.

You smile, proud of yourself, and hold up a chocolate bar. “This. It makes your brain release the nice hormones, right? I can’t remember the science-y names.”

“Serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins,” he confirms as you come over. You start peeling open the wrapper. “I thought you didn’t believe in the corporeal, though.”

You roll your eyes like he’s silly. “Of course I do. The spiritual and corporeal can go together, you know. We can use both.”

You break off a piece of chocolate and hold it out for him, but Remus bypasses it to take your hand, bringing it to his lips. “Dove, you make some excellent points.”

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2hightocare · 3 days

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from the vault pt2 🤍 kuwtb au’

"Haul time!" You squeak as you skip to the living room with the big box that you just got delivered a few minutes ago.

"What did you get, baby?" Your husband cranes his neck backward from the couch to catch you doing a happy dance with the big box covering your face. A small chuckle escapes his lips as he watches you make your way to him.

"Let me help you, that looks heavy as shit. Don't want you having back problems," Jungkook begins to stand up, only to be stopped when you drop the gigantic box in front of him on the carpet with a loud breath. "I got it, I'm independent," you click your tongue, dramatically flipping your ponytail to the side.

"Okay, not too much now," Jungkook shakes his head before reaching for your waist and pulling you on top of him in a swift motion. "Hey! I was going to show you my outfits," you giggle, pushing on his face with your left hand as he tries to pepper kisses on your face.

"You can show me later, but for now just let me love you," he mumbles into your collarbone before situating his head in between your boobs. His teeth graze the top of your tube top before trying to pull it down, making you squirm with a laugh-pushing him off.

"You took a long-ass nap, had me staring at the wall— bored, baby," Jungkook pouts, before cracking into a full-on smile. He runs a hand through his hair before putting it behind his head-his eyes trained on your flushed face while your fingers play with the seam of his T-shirt.

"Could've napped with me," you shrug, your fingertips slowly making their way under his shirt, slowly tracing his v-line.

"Yeah?" He smirks, his dimple popping out.

"Yeah. It was a good nap," you giggle before retrieving your hands from under his shirt and getting off his lap, making your way to the box full of clothes you had ordered online a couple of weeks back.

"Baby!" Jungkook whines as he watches you drop to your knees on the gray carpet in front of the box, ignoring him once again.

"Baby," you mock him; he playfully rolls his eyes at you.

Jungkook throws his head back in defeat before joining you on the floor with a happy sigh.

"Okay, gimme your haul, princess," Jungkook leans back onto the couch as he watches you open the box with your acrylics, like you always did. He takes notice of your mismatched socks, smiling to himself-your ass up in the air, as you look into the box, your light purple gym shorts hugging your curves perfectly.

"I got so many clothes it's actually insane," you say to your husband, who's watching you with hooded eyes.

"You still got space, nah?" Jungkook asks, talking about your walk-in closet, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

"Yup, I still have so much space," you pipe happily, opening the first bag. A small short sundress you forgot you had ordered stares back at you.

"That's cute, baby," Jungkook says, bobbing his head approvingly at the white lace sundress you're holding up.

"Cute, right? Should I model?" You wiggle your eyebrows, folding the dress into you. "Oh, for sure. I'll give ratings like that game we played with Jiho on Roblox," Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to remember the name of the game, snapping his fingers as if that's going to help him remember faster.

"Fashion Square?" He raises an eyebrow, the sly smirk on his face making you giggle at his attempt. "Fashion Famous," you correct him, biting your lip.

"Yeah, that," he smirks, with a final snap of his fingers.

"Can't believe the ugliest ones always win— when they’re not even on theme," Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you burst out laughing.

"Sassy Men Apocalypse got to you, Jeon," you tease, clenching your teeth and making a 'tsk' noise. "You are my biggest hater, I'm afraid," Jungkook shrugs before pulling you into him in a quick motion, catching you off guard.

"Baby, what? I'm literally in the 'I Heart Jeon Jungkook' club! And I have a shirt to prove it," you say, straddling him. The pout on your face makes him want to kiss it off.

You lean forward, dropping your head on his chest, looking up at him while he looks down at you.

He gives your left ass cheek a soft squeeze. "Oh, tell me more about this club. How many members are in it?" He taunts playfully.

"Around twenty," you reply nonchalantly, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He questions, playing with your belly piercing.

"If all my personalities count, then yeah," you shrug.

“Leave some for me, fatty,” the raven-haired boy says, slapping Namjoon’s wrist when he tries to reach for a piece of chocolate cake that’s sitting in the middle of the counter—you just baked it.

Taehyung snickers. “You look like you’ve had enough cake for a year.”

“The fuck? For your information, I’ll let you know that it takes hours in the gym to look as good as I do,” Namjoon retorts, a dramatic roll of his eyes eliciting a laugh from the petite, curly-haired girl beside him— Ari.

“Hours with your head inside a fridge, that’s for sure,” Eunbi pipes in, inserting a bite of cake into her mouth before reaching for the cold glass of milk that your husband just served and taking a sip with a knowing smirk.

“Crazy,” Namjoon points his fork at everyone who just came at him.

Taehyung’s eyes are filled with amusement as he shrugs and lets out a chuckle. “Can’t take constructive criticism,” Jimin joins in, as you try to hide your laugh behind the fork in front of your mouth while your husband leans on you, his chin on your head, hearing everything.

“He’s not fat, guys, he’s just big-boned,” Jungkook inserts himself into the conversation, which has Namjoon’s head snapping to him. “You did not just call me big-boned,” he gasps, as Eunbi and Taehyung burst out laughing, giving each other high fives like they’re six in second grade.

“I’m trying to defend you!” Your husband raises his hands in defense as Lora shakes her head, digging into the cake, ignoring everyone.

“Yeah, but big-boned is crazy!” Joon gapes at Jungkook, who actually seems confused. “Personally, I wouldn’t let that slide,” Eunbi points her fork between Namjoon and Jungkook, trying to instigate.

“Why you out here being messy for?” Lora jokes, nudging the blonde to the side, making her giggle.

“What I actually meant to say is that you’re buff as fuck and they’re obviously jealous of you,” Jungkook explains before turning his attention to your best friend.

“Damn, blondie. Being my biggest opp even after I bought you the stupid ferret you wanted so much for your birthday,” Jungkook points his index finger at Eunbi, who gasps while chocolate cake is shoved into her mouth.

a/n: here’s some more unfinished works that I want to get rid of, so here’s a lil gift🤍

#ask! kuwtb💌#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jjk #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeongguk x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 15 hours

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Winter's King 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: friday, my day, am i right?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there?

“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.”

“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.”

You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you.

“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate.

You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.”

“You are not in Debray now,” he muses.

You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him.

“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance.

“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.”

“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--”

“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.”

You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.”

You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone.

“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.”

You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment.

“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...”

“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?”

You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath.

“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.”

“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating.

He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain.

“We may begin simple,” he intones.

So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response.

“You have a question?” He prompts.

“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines.

“I can tell,” he says brightly.

You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks.

“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles.

He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait.

“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.”

“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter.

“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides.

“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.”

He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.”

You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do?

⚔️

“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.”

“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.

“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.”

You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair.

“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--”

“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.”

“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.”

“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.”

You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?”

You twist around to look at the door, then to him.

“I will go wherever you command, your highness.”

“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?”

There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you.

“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.”

He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.”

“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?”

Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away.

“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you.

He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh.

“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.”

You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.”

He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed.

“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.”

You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away.

“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table.

Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales.

He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow.

“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.”

You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall.

Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife.

He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts.

He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool.

He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream.

“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.”

You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months.

“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.”

He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side.

“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.”

You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there.

He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs.

Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand.

“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you.

“A game, your highness?” You babble.

He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.”

Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king.

“Your highness,” you utter.

“It’s my command,” he says, “run.”

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #dark geralt #dark!geralt #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

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kteezy997 · 2 days

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my desire//t.c.

Warnings: touchy PR subject, cheating, angst, smut, breast worship/sucking, rough sex, kinda sub!Timmy, hair pulling, one slap

This is for entertainment purposes. I know it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but please be kind❤️

You waited hours for Timothée to get home. He was with her: Kylie Jenner. They had been bound by a promotional contract, and he was forced to go on “dates” with her, to be seen and photographed. According to the press, they had been together for a year. But he was yours way before he was on Jenner's radar.

You knew that it was for his career and nothing more. The public didn’t know who you were or that you were in his life. You agreed to sit on the sidelines and be his secret, only because you loved him so much. You’d hide from the entire world with him, if it meant you could have him in some capacity.

But tonight, it had gone on too long. Why wasn’t he back yet? Could he really not get away? Was he enjoying spending time with her? As the hours dragged on, with you sitting alone in your apartment, you feared the worst: he was cheating on you with her, for real.

The fear turned into anger quickly. How could he give her so much of his time? That alone was cheating. That was betrayal. He was supposed to be with you, talking and laughing with you, not her. You didn’t want to believe that he would go to bed with her.

Finally, into the early morning hours, he came through the door, looking rather exhausted. If you weren’t mistaken, his skin looked a little flushed, and was that sweat on his hairline?

“Where have you been?” you demanded as soon as he came through the door.

“Babe, I didn’t think you’d still be up-" he was obviously surprised to be confronted by you, and he fumbled with his words.

“Answer me, Timothée.” you crossed your arms, feeling like a parent scolding their teenager who had been out passed their curfew.

“You know where I was.” he said lowly, taking his jacket off, tossing it onto the table. He turned to open the refrigerator.

“No, I know who you were with. What were you doing with her?”

“Nothing, baby. Just lost track of time, that’s all.” he insisted, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Lost track of time? With your fake girlfriend while your actual girlfriend was waiting for you?”

He turned to face you, taking a swig of the water, “I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I thought you were going out with your friends. I figured you would be asleep when I got home.”

“What the fuck were you doing out this late, Timothée? You’re all sweaty and tired. And you reek of skanky perfume! Tell me the truth, were you fucking her?!”

“Y/n…” he sighed, looking down at his feet.

“Don’t speak to me if it’s going to be a lie.” you spat through your teeth.

He put his hand on his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair, “Honey, I meant to shower and forget that it even happened!”

“You’re such a bastard.” you scoffed. You hated yourself for thinking that this wouldn’t happen. The woman had fake tits and a fake ass, she posted bikini pictures almost daily, she was thirsted over by millions of followers. You hated that you thought that Timmy would be above that, and besides, he had you, right?

“It meant nothing to me, I fucking swear! I had to do it!”

“Oh, fuck you!” you felt the anger coursing through your veins. Your heart rate thumped all over your body.

“No, really, babe. She needs to believe that it’s a real relationship, and she wanted to fuck, so I had to. But it was just business,” he reached out for your hand, but you pulled away as soon as he touched you, “it wasn’t like how it is with you.” his voice broke.

“Holding her hand, a few kisses for the cameras are one thing, but I never thought you’d do this. I thought you were better than this.” you said, feeling your throat tighten. You turned your back to him. You were so pissed. All you could see was the two of them together. Kylie with her skinny arms and legs wrapped around the body of the love of your life, both of them sweating and breathing hard.

“Please, forgive me for this stupid thing with her. It will be over soon, I promise you. And we can have our normal life back. I’ll do anything!” he got on his knees in front of you, pleading and holding your hands in his, the persistence in his voice was palpable.

“Timothée.” you shook your head, feeling tears threatening your eyes. It was all so much to bear. You tried to get the images of him with her out of your mind.

“Please, stay with me. I love you. You’re the one I want. You have my desire, not her.” he nestled his face into your stomach, wrapping his arms around your body, “She’s nothing to me. I’m sorry you’d have to deal with this. You are my world. Tonight was a mistake. It will never happen again, you have my word, y/n. Please, stay with me.”

You put your hand on the bed of curls atop his head, combing your fingers through it, “I think I need to sleep on this. It’s just a lot right now.”

Timmy pressed his hands into your back, and you could hear him starting to cry. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You took ahold of his arms, prying them off of you, “You have to stop. Let me go, Timmy. I have to go to bed. Stop.”

He complied, letting you remove his arms from your body, he sat back on his knees. “I love you, y/n.”

You saw the tears run onto his cheeks, you knew that he was truly broken. At this point, you were glad that he felt so terrible. “I just can’t be around you right now.”

…….

You didn’t get much sleep at all, but morning came, and you found Timmy sleeping on the couch. You watched him sleep for a moment, wondering about all the things he did with Kylie last night. Did he put his mouth on her tits? Did he perform oral sex on her? Did she blow him? Did he like it? Did he get off watching her perfect bubble butt as he rammed into her from behind? Was she better in bed than you?

You noticed that he had changed his clothes from the previous night. He must have showered when you went to bed.

You wanted to hate him, to be angry and loud and throw things at him. But you couldn’t. It would be hard to go on from here, you knew that. Maybe in time, you could forgive him. You had never loved anyone like you loved Timmy.

You just wanted those images out of your head. He was supposed to love you. He was supposed to be loyal to you. He was supposed to protect your heart. You wanted to take back what was yours.

You leaned over, placing your hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

Timmy woke up, barely able to open his eyes, but you didn't care how tired or groggy he was.

"Was she better than me?" you asked in a demanding tone.

He furrowed his brows, squinting, "What?" his voice was soft as a whisper.

"You heard me."

He shook his head, "No. Of course not. Y/n, I didn't want this for you. Please, don't compare. She means nothing to me." he sighed, "Fuck it, I'm going to cancel the contract."

"Well, you'll lose the money that the Karjenner clan is making you."

"I don't give a shit! It's ruined me and you. It’s making you doubt yourself.” he was the most distraught you had ever seen him. “It's clouded my judgement, it's made me do something disgusting, I betrayed you. I'm fucking done with all of it." he grabbed his phone from the side table, dialing a number in an instant.

You heard everything. It was a lengthy process, talking to different members of his management team, his agent, and representatives of the Jenners. He didn't stop. He left no stone unturned until everyone knew that he was finished with this PR deal.

It felt like hours, but once the dust settled, Timmy sat back down on the couch next to you. "It's over." he said, "They have some paperwork for me to sign to finalize everything, but it's definitely finished. I'm so fucking done with it."

"Well, if that's what you want, then I'm happy for you." you said, keeping your tone neutral.

He inhaled, drawing a hefty breath back out, he looked over at your hand as it sat on your lap, nonverbally asking to take it in his.

You gave him a small nod.

He reached over and tucked his fingers under yours, gripping your hand gently, "I'm sorry for what I did. I hope you find a way to forgive me and we can move forward. I'll never hurt you again."

"And I'll kill you if you do." you said, not a hint of falseness in your words. You put your hand on his in your lap and leaned over, kissing his lips.

He was obviously surprised by this, and he kissed you back with a fierceness.

You pulled away, resting your hand on his chest before taking his shirt into your fist. "Now, I want you to fuck me so good that you forget her name."

Timmy wasted no time, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a heated kiss. He introduced his tongue and you let it dance with yours. He pulled you onto his lap, tugging on your clothes.

You complied, taking your clothes off quickly and then steadying yourself on his lap.

He cupped your breasts, and stopped kissing you to latch onto your nipple. He sucked your breast like it was sweet nectar from the gods. He suckled the bud, licked all around it all while rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

You were moaning, clutching the back of his head as he put his lips around your other nipple. He sucked your tits like it was his job, and you got incredibly wet. "Are you hard for me?" you asked, nearly out of breath as you started to grind against his crotch.

"Yes, my love. Take my cock into that sweet pussy." he breathed out, looking up at you like you were a drop of water in the deep desert.

You slid the front of his pants down, letting his hard cock free. It stood perpendicular to his body with drops of precum starting to leak from his slit. You brought your hips forward, and you and Timmy held his cock for you to sink down onto.

He slid in as you bottomed out, you felt the wonderful stretch of him. You put your hands on his shoulders, instantly bobbing your hips up and down.

Timmy started to pant softly. He held you by the waist, just watching you fuck him. He licked his lips, and eventually his mouth fell open, like he was in awe of you. “Yes, baby, feels so good.” he praised, giving your hips a light squeeze.

You moved your hands from his shoulders to the ledge of the back of the couch behind him. “Mm.” you whimpered, slowing your pace, but taking him deeper.

He put his hands on your breasts, softly rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. “I love you. I love you so much.” he cooed, leaning in to you and kissing your neck.

You kept thrusting your hips along his cock, creating that warm sensation inside of you. You felt amazing, you let your head fall back.

The next thing you knew, he tightened his grip around your body, causing you to still yourself completely. He thrusted his hips upward, his cock pumped in and out at full speed.

You held onto him, clenching your eyes shut, feeling the friction, feeling the tip of his cock in your stomach. “Fuck!” you cried. You dug your nails into his arms. “Timmy!” You could hear the squelching, wet sounds from your pussy, and the slapping of his thighs on your ass.

“Aw fuck!” you heard him mutter under a ragged breath. Just after, you felt his sperm shooting into you. You moaned at the feeling, wiggling your hips on him.

Timmy rested his head on your chest for a moment, and kissed your breasts. He didn’t pull out, he didn’t let you go. He put his arms around you and regained his pace inside you.

The build up was insane, you came before you even realized it was happening. He must have sensed your release, because he slowed his pace. He gave your ass a squeeze, and pumped his hips into you, lazily.

As you rode through your high, you met each other’s thrusts, moving together. You locked eyes with him. They were deep green, and all sexed out. You put your hands in his hair, tugging on his curls.

Timmy groaned as you pulled on his hair. He put his head back on the couch.

You attacked his mouth with sloppy kisses. You had stopped fucking him, but he was softly rutting into you. You scraped your teeth along his jaw and bit at his neck. You let go of his hair, pushing it out of his face.

The curls were out of his eyes. He looked at you like you were the only being on earth. “I fucking love you.” he huffed out, a silly grin on his face.

You leaned back a little, then brought your hand up. You opened up your palm, a threw a swift slap across his cheek.

His head snapped to the side, and he groaned in pain. He put his hand on the cheek you had slapped, then turned his head back.

“I love you too. But I don’t like you right now.”

Timmy rubbed his cheek, “I can live with that.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet fanfic #lil timmy tim #timothée chalamet smut

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cherryredstars · 3 days

Note

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

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thatwriterchick222 · 1 day

Text

snakebite (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot

summary: you get bitten by a snake and arthur has to suck the venom out... what could go wrong?

----------------

“Shit…” You cursed under your breath, clutching at your thigh as you fought to push down the pain of the snake’s venom coursing through your veins. It was a deep bite, and you barely caught a glimpse of the thing before it slithered away. But the throbbing in your flesh was enough to know it was venomous.

Your horse had gotten spooked by the snake and bucked you off, fleeing for the treeline. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground and unfortunately landed right on top of the reptile. Deciding it had had enough, it lunged and bit your thigh, rightfully so. Its fangs shot through the material of your skirt and bloomers, down into your muscle.

Thankfully, Arthur wasn’t too far behind.

“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled his horse to a stop, seemingly confused by your horse running off and finding you lying on your back in the grass.

You were lightheaded. Nauseous. “A damn snake bit me.” In an effort to sit up, you pressed down harder on your bite, hoping to at least slow the venom as it seeped further into you.

What an embarrassing way to go. Especially in front of Arthur, of all people.

“Christ.” He said, quickly stepping down from his horse. He made his way over to you as you managed to sit up against a tree, breaking out into a sweat.

“I don’t feel too good.”

Arthur knelt down to your level, his eyes scanning yours with a sudden urgency that made your throat close up. “Don’t look too good ‘neither.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled.

He reached forward and felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

Even on your deathbed, you could not suppress your lasting crush on Arthur Morgan. Pathetic.

“Where’d it getcha?” He asked, looking down to where your hand clutched your leg.

You lifted your hand, “My thigh.”

“Okay…” He thought for a quick moment, scooting closer to you. “Lift your skirt up.”

You froze, swallowing thickly with your dry mouth. “I- Alright.”

Trying to ignore his wording and the pit in your stomach, you did as he said, pulling your linen skirt up to expose the small patch of blood on your white bloomers.

Without a word, Arthur grabbed the fabric, pulling at the holes where the small fangs had broken through, and ripped them wide, exposing the wound.

“What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ the venom out.”

You blinked, feeling the warm pads of his fingers brush your skin. “How?”

His hand reached under your knee, pulling your leg up, and you nearly flinched. Not because you were scared, but because you didn’t want him to know how much you liked it.

His eyes darted up to yours. “I gotta suck it out.”

You took a sharp breath in, adjusting your body awkwardly. “Oh.”

Then, as quickly as he had ripped your bloomers apart, he bent down, gripping your thigh tightly as he brought his mouth to your bite.

And it stung like all hell. He created a suction and you felt as if you were being bitten all over again, a searing pain overcoming the area as you gasped.

But there was still something very erotic about all of this. And you scolded yourself for thinking it. If someone were to pass by, they would see a cowboy with his head buried in your lap, and that brought a blush to your cheeks as he pulled away, turning to the side and spitting the venom out into the grass.

When he went back in, it hurt even worse, the numbness from your adrenaline wearing off. He sucked especially hard, and you grit your teeth, instinctively reaching forward and grabbing his arm. “Arthur–”

He pulled away again, spitting into the grass. When he turned back, he looked at you, his eyes strangely dark and his brow furrowed in concentration. Why was his face so close to yours? Maybe it was the venom. It had gotten to your head. Your skin was heating up, and your heart pounded hard in your ribcage. His hands were on your thigh, your fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, and you only stared back at him.

He broke the eye contact and went back down, this time only sucking lightly. You assumed he had gotten what he could out of your body. But your belly was warm and you felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, your body pulsing with pain and… arousal.

You pressed your lips together in pain, and when he sucked one last time, a whimper fell from your lips. But he didn’t suck anything out of you like he did before. His lips were on your skin and then they weren’t, and then they were back, landing higher up your thigh. Your hand loosened on his bicep and you didn’t know why, but you started rubbing him with your thumb.

You couldn’t see his face under the brim of his hat, but you felt him move his mouth higher, his teeth grazing you and his beard scratching against your skin. It tickled. His fingers dug into your thigh, and you drew in a breath, a suspenseful silence overtaking you.

A sudden bravery took over your body. You scooted closer to him, and he moved even further up, his lips pressing lightly against your skin. Was he… kissing you?

You swallowed when his nose brushed your inner thigh. And then you spread your knees further apart.

Any pain you had was replaced with the burning ache for him to touch you.

“Arthur.” You finally got the willpower to croak out his name, but you didn’t know what else to say. You said his name like a question, but also like a request. A demand. Like you wanted him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop.

He halted anyway, lifting his lips from your skin, the coolness of the breeze on it telling you that you were wet with his saliva. He didn’t look up. He kept his face hidden by the brim of his hat.

You could slice the tension in the air with your knife. But why would you want to? You had been waiting for a moment like this for the entire time you had known him.

He was always shy, and barely ever spoke about how he felt. You figured you would have to make some move or give him some hint… but now, at such an inopportune time… he seemed to want something from you too.

Were you drunk on adrenaline and snake venom? Probably. Was he taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state? Maybe.

You lifted your leg, shuffling even closer. You couldn’t speak. And neither could he. But somehow there was this silent agreement that you both wanted something. You lifted your skirt higher, and he finally looked up at you.

He almost looked like a different man. His jaw was clenched, his pupils large and his eyes burning into yours like a wolf hunting its prey. There was a smudge of your blood on his bottom lip.

You nodded. Please don’t stop.

With just as much urgency as he had when trying to potentially save your life, he quickly reached for the waist of your bloomers and pulled them down. If it had been any other man in any other scenario, you would have hidden yourself in embarrassment and covered your eyes so you didn’t have to see him see you.

But it was Arthur. And he was quickly lifting your legs, pulling your hips up and closer to him, and burying his face in between them. He didn’t have time to take it slow, and you didn’t care, your insides pulsing and your face going hot. Your bloomers were still around your ankles, and his hat was still hiding his face as his breath was on your cunt.

You lay back against the tree and he dove into you, his tongue exploring you aggressively, drinking you in with such passion you thought you might pass out. It suddenly occurred to you as you cried out that you were only meters away from the dirt road, barely hidden by the grass. Now, if someone passed by, it would look like you had a cowboy’s face in your lap because… you did.

Your hand flew to your mouth when he began to suck on you, those same lips that had just been sucking snake venom out of your leg moments prior. Your thighs clenched around his head, threatening to knock his hat off, but you kind of liked it on. He couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. There was some level of anonymity to this act, like maybe for just a moment you could be different people and not have to deal with the aftermath of your actions.

But fuck, he was good. It made you question if he had been practicing on someone. Who had he been practicing on? He could practice on you for the rest of your life if he wanted.

You bucked your hips into his mouth when he groaned into you, already finding yourself nearing your breaking point. His tongue was rough but rhythmic, and it was so quiet outside you could hear the squelching of your wetness against his mouth.

The feeling was building up inside you. You were floating, you were grinding yourself on his nose. Your eyes darted to your snake bite, red and swollen, and to your torn bloomers around your ankles, and to Arthur’s arms holding your legs as he bent over, doing something fucking incredible with his tongue.

You cried out as you came in his mouth, your hand finding his forearm, digging your nails into it. Your back arched and your hips bucked, shuddering with the feeling of it. He groaned into your core, seemingly just as pleased to feel you come as you were to come, and he slowly let you ride it out.

Catching your breath, you looked around, slowly coming back into yourself and realizing where you were. What you both had done.

Arthur’s grip on your legs slowly loosened, and when he pulled away from you, his eyes avoided yours. He lifted your leg and untangled himself from you and your bloomers. You wanted to rip his hat off and look at him. You wanted to kiss him. To taste yourself on his lips.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

You sat up, your bare ass scraping against the dirt. And you couldn’t help but laugh.

Sorry? He was apologizing? Like he didn’t know what came over him. Like he couldn’t help but make me come on his tongue. A simple mistake. Oops. You laughed harder, pulling your bloomers up. The pain of your bite suddenly came back to you, and you winced as the fabric rubbed against it.

He finally looked up at you from under the brim of his hat as you managed to get your bloomers back up. Then he let out a chuckle.

You wanted to return the favour. You sat up and were about to reach for him, grab him and touch him and maybe provide him with an ounce of the pleasure he just gave you, but suddenly a voice came from the road.

“What the–”

You and Arthur both quickly looked up, seeing a man on his horse staring at the two of you with confusion.

You were still flushed, and coated in a sheen of sweat, and your skirt was pulled up as Arthur knelt beside you. Oddly enough, it actually was exactly what it looked like.

“Snakebite.” You fought your smile, looking down at your leg as you spoke to the man.

Arthur nodded, “Had to… suck the venom out–” He stood up, and you noticed the bulge in his pants. Thankfully, he turned away from the man before he noticed.

“We should get you to a doctor,” Arthur said, reaching his hand out to you as if nothing had happened. You were still burning from your orgasm, but you pushed your skirt down and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up.

“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Good luck, then.”

###

You both rode back to camp in silence.

You wanted to pretend nothing happened, but you couldn’t help but watch Arthur keep adjusting himself in the saddle, clearly uncomfortable with how hard he was. To be honest, you had never experienced a man do something like that and not expect you to return the favour. But, you liked the idea of it, the taste of you in his mouth making him harder than ever. It clearly wasn’t going away, either, because he probably couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You smiled, kicking your horse to ride up next to him. “Need a little help there?” Your eyes flicked down his body, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were adorably red, and he looked away again.

“Let’s just get back to camp, first.” He reached down and moved his belt slightly, trying to ease the pressure. “Make sure you ain’t dyin’ on us.”

You smirked. “And what if I am?”

“Then we’ll need to work fast.” He shot you a look.

You felt your cheeks go just as red as his. “I can do fast.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan nsft #smut #rdr2 fanfic #oneshot #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan smut #hurt/comfort #literally so random #imagine

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sorrowsofsilence · 3 days

Text

Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

#sorrows of silence masterlist #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #angst #sad poem #bad omens angst #angst fanfic #desolate love

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diazsdimples · 3 days

Note

I think- I think you might be my person.

Buddie or BuckTommy if it sparks joy 💞🦛

Oh, we're going for the feels today huh? Have some Buddie feels, just for you my love 🥰🫶

"I think - I think you might be person."

The words hang heavy between them, thick with unspoken meaning. There's yearning behind them, years of bitten back "I love you" and "don't leave me" and "please stay, I need you." But finally, Buck will speak them, no longer afraid of the consequences. He's ready. They're ready.

Eddie looks a little stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly as he looks at Buck, takes in the open vulnerability of his expression. They're so close, just a couple more steps and they'll be there. Buck waits with bated breath, praying Eddie will take the cue and take Buck's tender, open heart delicately in his hands.

"I- we're best friends, Buck, I should hope I'm your person."

He's deflecting, Buck can tell. Eddie's had years of repression and Catholicism that've taught him to box away all his feelings and not allow himself to be authentically him.

But not anymore. They're allowed to be happy. They're allowed to have this, to have each other. Buck just needs to take that step that Eddie can't do himself, because Eddie will never let himself have something if he doesn't think Buck will want it too.

"No, Eddie. That's not what I mean, I'm not-" he sighs, mentally weighing up his options. He could back out now, pretend he was just talking about their friendship. But then they'd be back in that revolving door of bad decisions and unspoken words and Buck can't do that anymore. He won't.

"Fuck it. Eddie, you're my person because you're the most important thing in my life. You and Christopher. You're my best friend, yeah, but it's more than that, right? Every day I wake up and you're the first thing I think about. When we're not together, I feel empty, but when you're by my side it's like I'm whole, like a piece of me has been returned to my body. You're my person because there is no one else in this world I would rather spend every day with than you. I trust you with my life."

Eddie's eyes are soft and they shine with unshed tears. He's biting his lip and Buck wants nothing more than to run his thumb over it and release it from his teeth, and tenderly capture his lips with Buck's own. But he needs to finish what he's saying. Eddie has to hear it.

"Eddie I can't imagine a life without you. The sun rises and sets on you, the world revolves around you and I-" his voice breaks and he ducks his head. He can't go on, he can't say it, he's not strong enough, he's not-

Eddie's fingers curl under his chin and slowly, gently, he raises Buck's head so their eyes meet. God he's so beautiful. He's truly the most beautiful person Buck has ever seen.

"Go on," he whispers, his voice cracked and raw with emotion. "Please."

Buck sucks in a breath. It's now or never.

"I love you."

It's like the air has been knocked out of Eddie and his breath hisses from him. Buck can't breathe. The oxygen has been sucked from the room, and he can't breathe, not until Eddie speaks. Until he confirms that Buck hasn't fucked this up and read all the signals wrong.

"Please say something," he begs.

Eddie takes a step closer, his fingers never leaving Buck's chin. The gap between them closes until they're chest to chest, nose to nose, close than they've ever been before. Eddie's lips ghost against his, a tentative brush, as though he's testing the waters. Buck tilts his head ever so slightly and, emboldened, Eddie kisses Buck properly this time, their lips moving in sync with one another and oh, this is what's been missing from Buck's life.

It's like the world has a new meaning now because hold fuck, Eddie is kissing him. His best friend, the love of his life, the man he'd almost convinced himself he would never be allowed to have, is kissing him back as though he feels the same. There's such tenderness and emotion with the way Eddie kisses him, as though they were born for this. As though they were made for one another. Two halves of a whole, destined to be with one another regardless of circumstance.

Eddie pulls away from him and rests his forehead against Buck's, his lips pressed tightly together. He's breathing heavily and fast, as though he's moments away from a panic attack.

Buck gently touches Eddie's arm, just above the elbow. Eddie doesn't pull away, staying completely still.

"Eds?" Buck says, voice quiet and full of choked up emotion.

Eddie licks his lips and takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself, and Buck feels sick. He's going to say he doesn't feel it, that Buck is alone in this journey, that they're just friends and Buck has misread the signs. Eddie can't, he won't, won't ever-

"I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

#james answers things #james writes #this one also got away from me #and it's entirely your fault for giving me THAT sentence #I hope this was what you wanted 🫶🫶#buddie #buddie ficlet #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 abc #911 #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #buddie fic #buddie wip

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spotsandsocks · 6 hours

Text

FUCK IT FRIDAY!!

Tagged by @tizniz @shipperqueen6 @thekristen999 thank you 💜💜💜

putting the F in our Friday again as for reasons (aka @stagefoureddiediaz ) I was reminded of this so in my eternal battle to bring 911 fans into the dragonhold or weyr I offer art and smut to start the weekend from to To Fly The Skies 60K

The gap between them makes him ache, it feels too wide after what they just shared. Buck slides closer, slowly because he feels oddly shy right now. Eddie continues to smile softly and reaches out to take his hand, fingers brushing his knuckles in a gentle caress. It makes his heart flutter, Buck’s eyes drop and focus of the slow movement, his heart is beating faster.

“I’m glad you’re home.” Buck’s voice is soft and quiet, he lifts his eyes to meet Eddie’s and ends up caught there, just looking at him, wondering how this happened to him. How he got to have this man.

“Me too” Eddie matches his quiet tone not looking away.

“And we’re good now?” Buck checks, biting on his lower lip nervously. Eddie lifts the hand not holding onto Buck and frees his lip from the anxious nibbling, “you’ll hurt yourself like that” he mummers, thumb now running gently across the reddened skin, Buck lets his mouth relax, his breath quickening at the look in Eddie’s eyes.

“Yes we’re good,” he starts to push Buck backwards “and we have some time before Chris will be back. If you can think of anything we could do?” His eyes crinkle as he says it and Buck’s hit with a wave of love and affection, it’s coming from both of them, flowing freely in both directions.

Buck laughs, as Eddie pushes him lower, he lets himself be pressed flat onto the bed, “cool, did you want to get some chores done” he smirks at the look he gets “cos I kinda need to tidy up round here.”

“Shut up” Eddie tells him fondly, as he leans further forward, hands on either side of Buck’s head, swinging his leg over so he can straddle Buck.

Buck likes the direction this is going “You going to make me?” he challenges teasingly.

”Maybe” Eddie’s voice is deep and holds a promise Buck is very interested in investigating. He can’t help notice how the muscles of Eddie’s arms flex as he gets slowly closer controlling his decent carefully until he’s lying flat on top of him, their bodies pressed together. Buck shudders at the relief it brings, Eddie’s a steady reassuring weight holding him down, enveloping him, with their chests pressed together like this their hearts are aligned, beating so closely to each other. He feels a little dizzy at the thought as he lifts his head up, silently asking to be kissed. Eddie obliges, dipping down to close the tiny gap left between them, taking Buck’s lips softly with his own, moving them slowly over Buck’s. He teases and pulls at the sensitive flesh gently until Buck’s moaning softly, moving with him. Eventually Eddie pulls away lightly nipping at Buck’s now swollen lip. He sits up moving his weight in just the right way to make Buck groan louder and move his hips in response.

Eddie looks flushed, his eyes bright in the dim room but he chuckles. “You have missed me huh, if a little kiss can get you all worked up like this.” Buck attempts an outraged glare because he says it as if Buck can’t see how hard Eddie is too, as if he isn’t sitting there with a wicked smile as he rocks his hips gently, moving against Buck sending little jolts of pleasure through them both.

Then Eddie rubs against him harder and Buck arches up stifling another moan he manages to say “want me to show you how much I missed you?”

Eddie keeps up the steady rhythm and Buck’s needy whine finally slips out.

“Oh I can tell baby” Eddie sounds extremely pleased by the fact and by the way Buck suddenly gasps out his name.

“Tell me more” he says his voice becoming rougher, letting his own need start to show. Buck knows how much Eddie likes it when he talks in bed, what it does to him. He’s happy to oblige.

“That first night I was so cold without you,” Eddie leans back down to start work on Buck’s jaw and neck, it makes it harder to concentrate but Buck makes the effort, “couldn’t sleep, wanted you to keep me warm.” Eddie hums next to his skin asking for more.

“Missed you arms, your hands” his breath stutters as Eddie’s mouth makes contact with his chest, clever fingers having unbuttoned his shirt without him noticing. Eddie runs his fingers over muscle and sucks marks onto his body then soothes them with kisses. Buck arches up with breathless gasps that pushes his hips forward. He’s stopped talking so Eddie prompts him “what else did you think or” he hums against his skin, runs the flat of his tongue over Buck’s nipple “do while I was gone?”

Buck gathers himself and continues “Thought about you, things you’d do to me if you were there. Thought about this, your mouth all over me” Eddie grazes his teeth over Buck’s nipple making him hiss in pleasure. “Yeah like that, made me hard Eddie just thinking about you. Wanted to touch myself”

Eddie sounds cool and collected when he asks “Did you?”

“Tried to be good and wait but I couldn’t, felt so good, not as good as your hand, still wished it was you”

He’s aching now dick trapped in his trousers straining for release.

“Show me” Eddie pulls away, and Buck can see he’s not calm at all, he’s flushed and his eyes look almost black, his desire clear in his heated gaze.

Now Buck’s got room to move, he misses Eddie’s warmth but he makes quick work of his clothes. Eddie’s still dressed, sitting next to him, his eyes burning as he watches Buck revel more and more skin until there nothing left to remove, Eddie takes a deep breath, “Shards you’re so ….” His hand traces across his body, chest, stomach, sliding his hand past his hips to linger over the strength in his thighs, his hand roams freely but he doesn’t touch the one place Buck wants him too.

Eddie’s watching him intently eyes dark and hooded. “Show me” he asks again then comes back to press soft bites into the flesh of his neck up to his ear, making Buck whimper, he whispers “don’t rush baby take your time.”

Buck’s eyelids flutter shut, his hands traces the outline of his cock, he lets his fingers drift lightly up and down, he’s only starting to tease himself. He can hear the hitch in Eddie’s breathing and opens his eyes to see him staring down the length of his body, he’s transfixed by the sight of Buck’s hand sliding up and down. Buck wants to push them both a little further.

“I touched myself like this, thinking about you, wishing it was you.” He lets his grip get firmer he wants a little more, he moans at the feeling and at the thought that Eddie’s watching, enjoying what he sees, getting harder. He can feel him against his leg, a firm solid line, he smiles when he starts to move, rubbing himself against Buck’s thigh. He’s trying to be quiet but he’s not doing very well. Eddie shifts slightly Buck doesn’t realise where his hands have gone until he feels a finger slide between his legs to circle slowly around his entrance,

“Did you touch yourself here too? Imagine me here?”

He had but he can’t say it because Eddie fingers have pushed in a little and taken his words away.

“Buck?

He’s panting now, feeling a little desperate “yeah yeah I did, didn’t feel like this, more, please.” The last word comes out as a desperate moan. Eddie gives him more, pushing in again but only a little, teasing him more than anything until Buck’s a shivering mess within a few minutes.

Eddie’s voice pulls him out of the wave of sensations “I wasn’t planning on fucking you Buck, was planning on riding you, make you come like that but now I can’t choose.” Buck can only gasp, Eddie has two fingers in him and it’s not enough,

“both we could do both” he stutters out. Eddie laughs, “so greedy” he kisses him and slides his fingers out, keeps a little pressure there so Buck twitches trying to get them back.

“No, you look so good, sound so needy, I think I’ll fuck you” he sounds so casual, like they’re discussing what to have for breakfast and he’s not driving Buck out of his mind. Buck’s nods to show he’s on board, he can’t talk because Eddie’s other hand is in his mouth fingers sliding in and out. Buck’s playing with them with his tongue, moaning around their thickness thinking about Eddie’s cock in his mouth instead. “You look so ready for it baby, is that what you wanted while I was gone, my cock in you making you come?

Fuck it was, and it sounded even better now it was Eddie suggesting it while his fingers are dipping back in stretching him, when Eddie lets his fingers slide from Buck’s mouth over his throat and rests his hand above his heart, Buck quickly makes it clear what he wants.

“Please Eddie can we, will you? I want it.”

Eddie moves, grabs the salve they use for just these occasions and with one quick pull brings Buck to the edge of the bed leans over for more kisses as unbuttons himself, uses the salve with more teasing fingers and then lines himself up, bending Buck’s knees, and slowly so slowly pushes in. The long slow slide makes them both moan and Buck’s hands grasp at the covers of the bed.

Eddie keeps his pace slow, enjoying Buck’s increasingly frantic noises, his words of encouragement to go harder, faster, he doesn’t listen, trying to make this last. Buck’s hands seek and find his own cock and start to move around it, firm hard strokes, he doesn’t want to wait any longer, with each stroke he sounds even wilder, until it’s too much temptation for Eddie and he does what he Buck’s begging him to do, increases the pace and is rewarded in a few moments with increasingly frantic moans.

”yeah Eddie just like that,” he’s panting and gasping, getting so close “harder, there, yeah, that’s it I’m so close, he lets out a strangled whimper “ yeah, there ah, you’re gonna make me come, yes” he can hear his own ragged breathing as the words peeter out and become a long high gasp as he comes with a bone deep shudder. Eddie watches wide eyes tracing the evidence of Buck’s pleasure spread out all over his chest and with only a few more thrusts joins him with his own soundless gasp.

Once their heartbeats settles they rearrange themselves. Eddie pulls Buck in close, kisses him starting between his birthmark and the thread score that’s healing.

Buck mummers “welcome home” and Eddie smiles into the kisses he’s leaving against Buck’s face.

It is very good to be back.

@monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz

@buffaluff @bi-buckrights @fiona-fififi @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus

@bidisasterevankinard @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @underwaterninja13 @stagefoureddiediaz

@thewolvesof1998 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @steadfastsaturnsrings

@weewootruck @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie

@watchyourbuck @loveyouanyway @saybiwithme @bewilderedbuckley @ronordmann

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 fic #911fic #buddie au #fuck it friday #dragonriders au #dragons #911 fanart #spotty scribbles

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houseofevanbuckley · 13 hours

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Not even going anon for this q... please give us all more parents!bucktommy!!!!

Oh lord … I’m obsessed with them as parents, so it’s not a hardship at all

I want to go back to the start though, to how this family started.

They’ve been together for a few months when they have their first talk about having kids. Buck was babysitting Jee and took her to Tommy’s place since he has a garden and Tommy can’t stop thinking about it for days afterward. Buck in his garden with a kid. The sight was just so good, the way they played and ran around together.

Tommy can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s not the first time he thinks about it, to be honest. He loved to see Buck talking and helping Christopher with his homework and anything, really. Spending the day all three of them at a museum or park while Eddie can spend time with Marisol or for himself.

Tommy actually loves to make a date of anytime they have to babysit the kids, taking them all outside, parks, museums, theme parks, beach, you name it, and Tommy took them there.

So while they cuddle one day, he just asks if Buck ever thought about having his own one day.

And Buck turns around to look at Tommy, because he feels that as innocent as the question is, it is a sign of their growth as a couple, of Tommy thinking long term and he has to face the man for it.

Buck, who talks about how he felt when he held the baby, that he helped to conceive, for a few minutes and how his life just came to a halt. How seeing Jee for the first time on her mom’s chest had his heart squeezed.

He always assumed that his life would fall in line, the wife, the house, the kids.

But if he let the wife cliche go, he still thinks that he’d like the rest. The house, the kids.

And what he doesn’t say, the husband.

Tommy just hugs him tighter and confesses that when he came out, letting go of the potential of having kids was the hardest part, but that with how the world change he wanted to believe in it again.

It absolutely unlocks something between them, this talk of the future, of a future together and of shared dream.

That’s why when two years later, after their wedding, after their new house, Hen and Karen go to them when they had a call for a little boy. A three months old. The child is orphaned, no dad or grandparents filed anywhere, and no one is still alive on his mother's side.

They already had three foster kids, in addition to Denny so having a fifth child in the house would be a challenge, one that they would embrace but when the worker asked them if they had people in mind that would take the boy they thought of Buck and Tommy.

The boys who look at each other, hands clasping together while Karen shows pictures of a small blond boy bundled up in a green blanket.

Buck is the one who asks, “what do we have to do?” and by the squeezing he feels around his fingers from Tommy, it was the right thing to say.

Thanks to Karen and Hen having been exemplary in all the years of them taking kids in, and because it’s a baby, the process is sped up. Not that it’s fast or easy.

Just after the visit, Buck goes on a cleaning spree, pulling out a clipboard and going full Clipboard!Buck on himself and Tommy. The house has never been this clean since they moved in.

The garden is mowed, plants and trees are pruned.

Tommy has even been sent on the roof to clean it and he did with a smile, seeing how serious and excited Buck was, making himself even more excited for this new adventure with his husband.

When they go back to their respective stations after their two days off, each of them gather letters of recommendation and characters from their teams, which also announce to them all that they want to welcome that baby boy in their house.

It takes them a week to have the house ready and their letters from everyone, filling their foster parents’ file with the help of Hen and Karen.

Buck vibrating out of his skin each night while they cuddle, and Tommy doesn’t count how many times he caught Buck on baby clothes websites, but he’s just as bad as him. Having screenshoted so many cute onesies, his ads are now only baby formula and toys.

It takes them one more week before they get a call back from the agency for a first visit of their house and an interview.

They have to wait for three days for a feedback of that visit. Buck is a wreck and Tommy had been asked to stay grounded with how distracted he’s been.

Finally, they get a call for a second visit at their house with two workers this time. The questions are more in-depth.

A few days letter they have a call from Bobby saying that they had a call from the agency to talk about Buck and Tommy. And a day later, Lucy calls them with the same news. Quickly enough, Maddie and Tommy’s brother were called as well.

It takes them one more month, random visits and calls before they get the call.

They can take Noah home starting four days from now.

Buck pulls the clipboard out again, but this time he enrolls everyone.

Maddie and Chimney are sent to the shop to get the formula and diapers, mountains of each.

Tommy and Eddie are painting the guest room, Noah’s room. They agreed on a soft forest green for the walls, and blue for the ceiling with small white clouds.

Buck has Pinterest boards, ok? And he’s going to make this room the best room for a child.

May and Denny went to the shop to pick up plushies and games.

Buck is finally ordering all the onesies he and Tommy saw online and baby proofing the whole house: one cupboard, one drawer, one window at a time.

Bobby making food for them all and helping where he can.

One week later, the social worker come to their house. They’re alone. They wanted to welcome him, just them. Noah will be presented on Sunday to the whole family, but now it’s Thursday and the next 3 days are theirs, and only theirs.

Buck is the one to open the door, his breathing stuttering and his blood pumping in his ears, until he fully opens the door and his eyes fall on the car seat where Noah sleeps and everything quiet down.

He hasn’t felt this calm and quiet since his and Tommy’s first kiss, but after all, his world is changing again today and shouldn’t it warrant the same reaction?

The worker enters and does a last inspection, more a formality than anything else, but it could still mean that she’d leave with Noah.

She goes around the house and leave Noah in his seat in their living room where Buck and Tommy can’t stop looking at his sleeping form.

Finally, she comes back from her inspection and sees how they are hugging and looking at the seat and she can see how excited they are, how much they already love the little boy.

“Do you want to take him?” she asks, and Buck looks at her with watery eyes and nods.

She goes to the seat to free Noah from it and carry him toward Buck’s, who’s himself held by Tommy, and she very gently places Noah in his arms.

Tommy and him looks down at the boy. They know that for now it’s only a temporary placement, that anything could happen. But Noah is in their arms now and they couldn’t feel happier or more complete.

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sugoi-writes · 1 day

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Biting back the urge to say 'fuck it' and come off anon cause I keep finding gif-sets that would work perfectly for Smutmus. I know why tumblr doesn't allow image/gif sharing while on anon, but goddammit! The visual aids do wonders for the parts I'm not articulate enough to write without sounding repetitive. 😩

But on that note: I've decided to just throw caution to the wind and do a reveal after this one! Just wanna play a bit more with what little editing mobile allows and get summaries of the Smutmus Holy Trinity put on a masterlist first~ ❤️

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?" You breathed out in between your gasps and moans. The corners of your mouth twitched upward as Alastor's thrusts became more and more animalistic with every 'slap!', every curse that bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. You just felt so fucking good! He couldn't help himself.

Removing his clawed hand from your hair, Alastor traced the point of his sharp nails down your back - reveling in the hiss that forced its way through your clenched jaw - to wrap around the curve of your ass, his other hand on your hip joining it on the opposite cheek. With a harsh squeeze followed by an equally hard slap, Alastor began to guide your lower body in sync with his own. Foreheads still pressed together, his eyes were locked with yours as both of you were nearing another release. "Yes, just like that! Don't stop!" He groaned, forcing your hips up and down, the sinful drag of his cock driving you mad.

"Gonna cum in this tight little pussy! M'gonna fill you up!" He promised, hips becoming more erratic as he chased that wonderful high - one he could never get anywhere else. Lifting your head just enough to look down between your bodies, salivating at the way his cock disappeared inside you. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Alastor to smack your ass once more, his other hand coming back up to grab a fistful of your hair and direct your gaze back to his face. "Look at me!" He demanded. The blissful sting of his hand pulling your hair made you clench around him even harder, if that was even possible.

"C-c'mon Al, give it to me!" You cried, heart racing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, splitting you in half on his cock. "Pound that pussy-! Nnghh-ohfuck, fuck! Harder Al! Pound my little pussy!" You continued to babble, your mind beginning to go numb as your mouth fell open in the perfect 'oh!' shape. You looked so beautiful like that, it was almost enough to make Alastor cum right then and there, but he held on. It was knowing that he was responsible for the ecstasy coursing through your veins that did it for him; your begging and your expression was tugging at what little restraint he had left.

Reaching up to pull his fingers from your hair, you lifted your upper body so that you were in an upright position once more - his hands returning to your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to bring you down harder and harder with each thrust. "Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" Alastor commanded through clenched teeth, pounding up into you while watching your tits bounce in time with his movements. "Cum on my fucking cock! Do it, cum with me!"

You had wanted to drag this out a little bit longer, but the way Alastor was pounding into you at such an inhuman pace, your were nearly at your peak (as was he). Alastor watched your hand go straight for that little button in between your folds, rubbing harsh circles against it with the pads of your fingers. "That's it, that's it! Good fucking girl!" He praised you, his own mouth falling open at the sight before him. Arching your back slightly and throwing your head back, you clenched your eyes shut - a drawn out moan so lewd it could make a pornstar blush (Angel) coming from your throat. Your thighs quivered violently, unable to hold the pace any longer as your orgasm crashed over you like you had just stepped under the Niagra Falls - your fluids squirting onto his lower abdomen and dripping down his sides onto the sheets below, a small amount even pooling in the crevice of his navel.

Alastor struggled as the vice grip your heated mound had on his shaft made it damn near impossible to move; but he prevailed, fucking you through your release while chasing his own. His cock twitched inside you as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, his hips stuttering as he felt the first few ropes of his seed shoot into you. "M'cumming, m'cumming! Fucking-holy-! ... Oh my ffffuuu-!" Alastor shouted, this orgasm hitting him particularly harder than the rest. His shoulders came off the bed as his upperbody jerked forward slightly from the force of his orgasm, his own thighs quaking as he tried to keep his pace, determined to fuck you both through your individual highs straight into overstimulation.

Eventually his thrusts slowed and you removed your hand from that little bundle of nerves, placing both of your hands on his knees as you leaned back slightly, supporting your own weight on them. Your entire body would twitch and your hips would jerk away whenever the tufts of his pubic hair brushed against your swollen clit. Your chest heaved as you tried to come down from your high, but Alastor's shallow thrusts were making it difficult. "A-Al... baby please-" you tried to beg, but it was no use. You knew Alastor was deaf to the world the first few seconds after his release, so you could do naught but try to ride it out. But this time was proving to be more difficult than the rest.

Attempting to lift yourself off of his cock, you barely made it an inch when one of Alastor's tentacles wrapped around your waist, forcing you back down onto his still rock hard, drooling cock. "Ala-... Wha- Alastor?!" You cried out in shock, the overstimulation becoming almost painful as he forced your hips to grind back and forth with his hands. Your whole body was going to be covered in bruises and hickies come morning, and that thought alone had Alastor ready for another round. Grabbing hold of his forearms, you tried to get him to let go. "Al- just give me a secon-nah! Nngh! F-fuck!" But it was futile, as in the next moment you found yourself lying flat on your back in the same spot he once rested, his claws wrapped around the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your chest - his dick not leaving your core for a single second.

"Oh darling... I'm no where NEAR done with you!"

I was wobbling so hard when I went to go grab a drink after this-- I fuckinh FELL. I FELL BECAUSE OF THIS POST.

ALSO WE HAVE A REVEAL SOON? I LITERALLY GONNA CRY-- OH MY GOSH I CAN'T WAIT??? AND GIFS, PICTURES, ACCOMPANYING THIS STUFF??? Phew. Guys, hold me up, HOLD ME UP

*Post Read*

F-First of all... how are you reading my mind? 🥴🥴🥴 Literally so many k-kinks in one post... the hair pulling? 😩💦 the nails? 😩💦 grabbing ass and using it as leverage? 😩💦 The commands/forcing us to look? 😩💦 Good Girl? 😩💦 Overstim when his legs are giving out??? 😩💦😩💦😩💦 HHHHHHHHH MINK AND HAZEL I FEEL LIKE MAKING A WHOLE ASS ESSAY ON THIS

S-Second... HOW? How do you write this stuff and not pass out? I'm clutching my pearls, I'm staring at the ceiling, and my legs are twitching. My throat is dry, my voice is groggy from waking up, but I want to SCREAM.

I- I can't IMAGINE how you must feel when you write this???? JFC?

I don't think you've realized what you've done 😩💦 You have rights to my estate, you have my soul, you have my crops, fuck it, you can have my cat Nugget when I die from the heart attack I'm about to have--

UGHN!! AAAAAAAA SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD. BARK BARK BARK

If no one has told you today: you're so fucking awesome. And you deserve to have your mind blown and turned to mush from being dicked down 😩💦

☄️❤️Anon I fucking LOVE YOU. 😭💗

@hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely ....what's worse? THERE'S ALREADY A SECOND PART IN MY INBOX!!! SEND THE POLICE. IM GONNA NEED A WELLFARE CHECK

We wish you a Merry Smutmus, and a Happy Nude Year!

(Gif below was my exact reaction, when I woke up screaming to this post)

#smutmus #☄️❤️#I FEEL SPOILT #SPOILT AS FUCK #merry smutmus #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon

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