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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

miguel must have some severe neck pain due him being 6’9 and needing to bend to speak with everyone. so i suggest reader to lay him on his back and ride the shit out of his face till his neck is properly straightened and he is drunk dumb on your juices 😇

oMG anon you're a genius !?!? this is SO creative i'm kissing ur brain

summary : you ride miguel's face until it fixes his neck

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, oral sex (reader receiving), miguel eats you out, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader, miguel is pussy drunk word count : 888

Miguel's days always seemed to end with a particularly unpleasant muscle ache forming in the back of his neck. The cause and sole reason for this? His height.

It's quite simple, Miguel was huge, 6'9 to be exact, and few people in the Spider Society were anywhere near his height nor width.

He lowered his neck to look at everyone, feeling like a tower trying to talk to passers-by in the street. He couldn't shake off this feeling, but he was always standing up, rare were the moments of his day where he was sitting anywhere.

One minute he was talking to a smaller spider, making him bend his head to maintain conversation politely enough. In another, he had to whisper to discuss confidential matters in public, making him bend the rest of his body as well. And now he'd just come back from a meeting where he'd spent most of his time talking to members smaller than himself.

And he'd already tried so many things to fix his situation: putting essential oil on the back of his neck and massaging it until he relaxed, putting a hot water bottle under his pillow when he was lying on his bed, or even putting on a neck brace, even though he felt profoundly ridiculous when he was wearing it and kept it on just for when he was in his quarters. He'd even asked you to massage the back of his neck at times, but you weren't always available to help him with that.

It was then, as he was returning once again to his quarters where you were staying, complaining and massaging his neck from his long day, that you came up with a little idea. You told him what you had in mind, and he raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him, his head on the mattress revelling in your cunt while his face was pressed against your thighs. His saliva mixed with the succulent juices you were spilling for him dripped down his cheeks, and you were breathless.

"Miguel," you protested, "please-" your breath was ragged, your thighs trembling around his face, "it's too much."

Four, Miguel had given you four orgasms in this position alone by now, returning each time, never, oh never, tiring of your taste and warmth. At first you'd ridden him proudly, your pelvis undulating fluidly against his mouth and clutching your fingers in his hair. But now it was he who held your pelvis, preventing you from withdrawing from him as your own hands rested on his.

He seemed unstoppable, but on your side, every sensation seemed to be heightened tenfold as his fingers ran gently over your thigh sending an extra wave of heat through your lower belly. He was parting your folds with his toungue, fucking you with it relentlessly.

"Once more, por favor, nena," he mumbled, the sensation of his voice vibrating against you like that sending electric shocks through your body, a cry escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, disorientated, hoping you'd even be able to stand until your next orgasm.

You were always worried that you'd suffocate him, that your whole weight resting on his face would make him choke or that your thighs pressing against his cheeks would hurt, but to be honest, that's all Miguel wanted.

He wanted to cram himself between your thighs, you crushing him made him feel light after all, so he gripped your thighs and hips, holding you firmly against him as he nestled himself further against you.

He was drunk on you, drunk on your essence, your skin that he could grip, and he was proud to make you come so many times. Your weight was pressing down on his head superbly, and he didn't care if he ended up smothered under you.

His tongue worked wonders, his lips sometimes sucking on your clit, wrapping it in saliva and then kissing it afterwards. Sometimes you could even feel him graze your flesh with the tip of his fang. He hardened his tongue, stretching it out to penetrate you as far as he could, kissing your lips from time to time, and all these gestures again began to tighten the knot that had formed in your lower stomach.

"Miguel-" you whimpered, feeling as if all the words you wanted to say were going to come out pre-chewed and unintelligible.

Your fingers snaked through his hair, gripping it hard to anchor yourself, and he let out a moan against your pussy that vibrated through your entire being. He was pulling the strings of your body and you were singing for him.

The orgasm swept through you and fireworks went off inside you like a supernova, your whole body shaking as your moan rippled through your throat. You suddenly folded in half like a wilting flower, jolting as Miguel laid you back against him, stroking your hair and gently kissing your forehead as he whispered soft, tender words of praise.

However, your suggestion had indeed worked, because just after this pleasant experience, there was no longer any pain in the back of his neck. And from now on, when the accumulation of pain and aches began to make him feel too exhausted, he knew what he had to do.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel atsv #smut

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nastyaromatherapy · 4 months

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ok but what about ethan landry stalking the reader as ghost face for a while and him finally sneaking in to her house one night cause he can’t hold back. y/n she knew that ghost face was stalking her and she also knew that it was ethan so she puts a pretty lacy nightgown on and waits for him. he finds out that she knows because when he walks into her room she gets up from her bed and he pins her to a wall and she says something like ‘i want you so bad ethan’ so he fucks her till she can’t think or speak.

(maybe some praises like good girl and pretty girl but you definitely don’t need to write those in if those aren’t your thing)

ALSO i just love your writing so much like omg i even read some of your other fanfics for different characters even though i don’t want them cause i just love the way you write 😭

Ghostface's Good Girl (18+)

Your stalker, Ethan, couldn't hold back one night and went inside your house to take what was his.

pairing - stalker!ethan landry x reader

one shot length, 3.0k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, dom ethan, creampie, praising, minor slapping and choking, finger sucking, BJ, slight corruption, teensy size kink, ghostface ethan, whore reader, name calling, orgasm control

Ethan Landry loved you. However, it was all parasocial. You barely knew him. The only thing you knew was that he was Chad's roommate. You saw him occasionally when you were over at Chad's place.

“Hey, y/n,” he would wave to you at a weak attempt at getting closer to you. It was awkward, especially since at the time, he didn't know you and Chad were fuck buddies. He had always liked you and thought you were really hot.

You on the other hand, had never even thought about it. He looked so innocent, so sweet, and Chad was like his older brother. It'd be weird to screw with your fuck buddy's younger brother.

For Ethan, hearing the two of you fuck at night was both a blessing and a curse. He reveled in hearing your moans and begs, biting his lip to keep quiet as he touched himself to your sounds. He hated how it was Chad fucking you, hated more how you were whoring around, knowing Chad wasn't the only guy you were messing with at the time.

He knew that if you were his, he'd put you in your place. You wouldn't be caught with other guys because he'd be the only guy you'd ever need. And once you and Chad broke things off, that's when he started to stalk you.

I mean, before then, he would keep some of your belongings you left at his place as keepsakes and souvenirs, but only now would he begin what he'd label as stalking.

He started visiting the coffee shop you worked at more, too afraid to order anything or say hi; he'd just sit in a corner on his phone, scrolling through your instagram. When your shift would finish, at seven pm, he'd rush over to your place, arriving way before you did.

Straight after work you'd get into the shower, which pissed him off. As sick as he was, he knew he couldn't enter your house. There were no windows in your shower, obviously, and you'd keep your curtains closed.

Oh, when you finished, though, he'd watch through your bedroom window in ghostface attire as you dried and lotioned your legs, so badly wanting to feel your soft skin against his.

Everything about you was so delicate. You were so softspoken, even your whines which he heard through thin walls were pretty and angelic. He needed to know how it'd feel to corrupt you, and keep you as his pretty doll.

And he'd do this for nights, the same routine. Every night he'd watch you get out of the shower and get ready for bed, and it took everything in him to not just break in and take what was his.

Ethan Landry's secret was no secret though, which you found adorable. Did he really think you wouldn't notice him sneaking looks at the cafe? Did he really think you wouldn't notice his car parked in a confused neighbors driveway, every night you came home? Both you and him expected you to be scared, concerned, and disturbed. But in reality, you loved the idea of Ethan obsessing over you, and following you around like a puppy. You found it cute how he couldn't muster up the courage to just talk to you, and ended up resorting to stalking.

You tried amping him up, often discarding worn panties in the bin at night. Was the shuffling and tipped over trash raccoons? No, it was Ethan. At first. you just found it cute, like when a little boy likes an older girl that's way out of his league. It was only after a month that you started to question what being with Ethan would actually entail.

Would he by kind, sweet, and gentle, massaging your feet? Or would he be jealous, and violent? The thoughts kept you up at night. Oh, and the day you almost “caught” him, and he dashed so quickly he left his dainty Nancy Loomis mask, you'd say you were in love too. Your stalker, Ethan Landry, was ghostface. That only made things more exciting.

Day after day, it got harder and harder for him to not just go inside. After time, you decided to leave your door unlocked. He noticed, and it confused him. You'd never changed your routine before. Then he started to ponder, did you know?

One night, you changed your routine drastically. You oiled your legs, discarding the lotion you used to use. You dressed into a lacy lingerie slip, unusual since you usually wore a victoria pajama set.

He was already growing hard in his pants, his mask concealing his needy eyes. He was desperate to feel you, and needed to take a step inside. The stairs creaked as he walked up them onto your porch, and he hesitated before laying a hand on your doorknob. He sharply inhaled before twisting it, making his way inside.

You noticed his steps on the ground, due to his huge boots, and waited anxiously for him to enter your room. He slowly scurried his way through your house, finally opening up the door to your room.

He entered with the iconic ghostface head tilt, and your breath hitched. You slowly stood up, trying to hold back your blush for the masked killer who stood inches higher above you. Like lightning he pinned you against your poster covered wall by your throat, his hand easily wrapping around it. You left your mouth agape and choked a little, staring deeply into the dark puddles where the mask covered his eyes.

He noticed how you easily and willingly complied and softened his grip, letting you quickly let out short breaths. “I know it's you, Ethan,” you whispered breathily, and his face contorted- although you couldn't see, into a writhe of concern. “I want you so bad,” you whined, and your hands made way to under his mask, lifting it up to expose his face, curls frizzy since the mask wasn't lined with satin.

He suspected you knew, but he never actually thought his suspicions would be correct. He digressed, however, and continued his concentrated activities. “And you can have me,” he spoke, his voice low and seductive. “But know that your compliance labels you as mine. Do I make myself clear?” You swallowed and nodded, leading him to lean into your ear, his steady breaths making the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Do I make, myself clear?” He repeated through gritted teeth, squeezing your neck tighter as he spoke, before slowly diluting while awaiting a response. “Yes, sir,” you choked out almost inaudibly, but he caught it.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he got even closer and toyed with the straps of your dress. When he towered above you, your head was tilted upwards to meet his eyes; his lanky yet broad figure was just as frightening as alluring.

“You're usually so talkative in class,” he whispered cunningly, dragging his gloved finger along your jawline. “Why so silent now?” He asked, alluding to your sudden meek behavior.

You didn't answer, but when you saw him continue to stare like a deer in headlights, you whispered, “I just want to be good for you.” He clicked his tongue and journeyed his hand up, from your jaw to your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. With your mouth slightly agape, his thumb slowly shifted closer and closer to your lips, before finally making contact. You inhaled through your mouth slightly, mimicking a silent gasp.

His finger grazed your soft lips, lightly tapping it for you to open even wider, requesting entry. “Open,” he ordered when you didn't get the message. Once you furtherly gaped your mouth, he gave a nod of approval before sliding his thumb inside. Not needing to be told twice, you didn't hesitate to clamp around his finger, sucking it lightly.

“That's it,” he whispered as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb. “Just like that.” You moaned slightly around his finger, leading him to groan in response. The interaction made you so desperate and painfully wet, and you squirmed uncomfortably, your thighs awkwardly trying to gain friction on their own.

He noticed this and smirked, finding it cute how impatient you were being. With his hand still on your cheek, he stroked it gently, the skin so silky and the peach fuzz so soft. He was about to ask a question, so he removed his thumb from your mouth since he expected an answer. “Are you gonna be my good girl tonight?” He asked huskily, making sure you knew what you were getting yourself into, once more.

You nodded, which wasn't enough for Ethan, who wasn't reluctant to strike your cheek when you didn't answer, leaving a bright red mark. You cried in the form of a moan as his rough hand made contact with your dainty skin, finally realizing which Ethan you'd been fantasizing about you'd get tonight. A masked, violent, short-tempered killer. “Yes, sir,” you spoke.

He didn't feel you were ready for praise, yet, and he tossed you onto your bed, face forward. Your legs dangled off the edge, showcasing your tulle-trimmed socks. When you attempted to turn onto your back he laid his hand on it, keeping you in place. “Stay still,” he huffed, making you quickly do as told. He kneeled below your lowish platformed bed, flipping your dress up to expose you ass.

He leaned in, and you whined as you felt his hot breath against your almost exposed cunt. Your pretty white panties were still covering your pussy, although they were almost see through since they were so sopping. “God you're a slut, so fucking wet,” we muttered to himself as he hooked the gusset in his fingers, revealing your dripping sex.

He removed his gloves before sliding his fingers up and down your slippery folds, making you whine. “Ethan,” you whimpered, wretchedly grinding against his hand. He spit on your cunt, before licking a stripe down it, latching onto your clit. He groaned as he was living his dream of tasting you, hands spreading your cheeks apart for easier access.

“F-fuck,” you moaned as his tongue fucked your hole, kicking your legs a bit so you didn't get too overwhelmed. He chuckled when he noticed, making your lips flutter, slightly humiliated. Soft “ah's” left your lips, and they gradually grew louder and louder the closer you got.

You felt the warmth build up in your stomach as you grew more sensitive to each movement of his tongue as you neared the edge. “Ethan,” you sobbed. “’Gonna, cum,” you whimpered, and he responded by abruptly pulling away, edging you. You whined in disapproval at his absent tongue that was taken away without warning, wanting to cum so badly.

He laughed softly and stood, quick to pull you up with him by your hips. “I control when you cum,” he taught, making you nod before quickly remembering he disliked that. “Yes sir,” you whispered sweetly, your eyes large and doe. He smugly smirked at your response, “Good girl.” You loved the affection you seemed to gain from him.

“Now get on your knees,” he ordered as he removed his cloak, discarding it in a corner of your room. You kneeled below him, and he started to undo the buttons on his black slacks, pulling them down and kicking them off his ankles. He was left in his boxers, and your eyes couldn't pull away from his erection.

You started to venture your hands closer to his waistband, but for safe measure, you watched his eyes to see if he was okay with that. His eyes said nothing. That was extremely unhelpful. What you’d learned so far was that Ethan was often vague and not very talkative about what he wanted.

Noticing how he didn’t say anything and how he didn’t seem angry, you gripped his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles in a swift motion, revealing his erect cock. He gave a soft sigh as his dick was released and no longer confined.

He chuckled when he saw you contemplating whether or not to touch it, afraid of upsetting him. “This is the hardest you’ve ever gotten me,” he whispered perversely, smiling a little as he enjoyed this a lot. “Better than staring through windows, huh?” You asked, fighting your urge to just grab it and stroke him. He nodded and reached for his cock, stroking it gently.

“Open your mouth,” he spoke to you as he tapped the tip against your lips. You opened your mouth nice and wide to accommodate his girth, and he spoke words of approval, “That’s my pretty girl,” before sliding himself in.

Your mouth flooded with the smell and taste of him, making your eyes water a bit as it hit you so intensely. You hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed up and down the head, using your hand to stroke the base. He groaned, pushing into you a little further. “Fuckk.”

His curls covered his eyes as he looked down, watching you suck on his length, still wearing the cute nightie. When strands of hair covered your face, which made it harder for you to see him, you’d push them behind your ear, being loyal and giving your undivided attention to him. He loved when you moaned around his length, showing how much you enjoyed it.

Your mouth was warm and hot, and his cock relished in the higher temperatures that you engulfed him in. He threw his head back, absentmindedly thrusting forward ever so slightly, making you gag from time to time.

Your eyes were red as they burned with unshed tears, his scrotum feeling fuller and heavier the deeper in your mouth you took him. “God,” he moaned in a strained voice, feeling himself grow close. He didn’t want to cum yet, though, so he pulled out of your mouth.

You gasped for air as saliva dripped down your chin, feeling empty without his cock in your mouth. He smirked as he looked down at you and ordered, “Get on the bed.” You quickly hopped off your knees and crawled onto your mattress, and he was right behind you with a hand on your waist to help position you.

He clawed at your nightie before taking it off, pulling it up over your head. You were flipped onto your back, and he pulled your legs up so your feet were leveled with his shoulders. He pulled your panties off, leaving you completely bare underneath him.

“Please, Ethan,” you whined as he rubbed his cock up and down your wet slit, your cunt gaping, awaiting entry. He tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You swallowed and looked away, not answering him.

“Answer, bitch,” he fumed, placing his hand on your neck, squeezing your pipe ever so slightly. You lightly choked before attempting to speak, “P-please fuck me, Ethan.” He removed his hand from your neck and cockily smirked.

“Yeah? Does my slutty little princess need to be fucked by my cock?” He taunted, and you vigorously nodded in response.

Your breath hitched as he lined himself up with your entrance, and he threw his head back and inhaled before sliding in. “Fuck!” You yelped as he stretched you out so beautifully. Your legs trembled under him as he slowly started to thrust into you, his movements rhythmic.

“That’s it, take my cock,” he groaned, his hands moving to grip your soft hips. As he started to speed up, you couldn’t help but get louder. You turned your head around to try and hide your face, but he caught on.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice stern and demanding. You slowly turned your head back around, trying your best to suppress the faces he was fucking into you. He chuckled at the way your features contorted, especially when he went deeper.

Once he saw that your cunt was perfectly stretched around him, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder to get a new angle. You were lifted off the mattress ever so slightly, as your leg didn’t reach that high naturally.

He started to fuck you roughly, his cock pistoning in and out of your starving cunt. “Ethan!” You screamed, which only made him needier. You could no longer suppress your moans now, as your heart was racing and your breathing was erratic. His hands clawed into your hips painfully, but you could only focus on the pleasure he was giving you.

“Do I do it better than Chad? I don’t even know why you wasted time on his lame ass; he didn't deserve someone as gorgeous as you. My pretty girl,” he groaned, each word getting whinier and whinier. “Yes, Ethan,” you cried, your toes curling. “You fuck me so much better than Chad; don’t stop, please.”

He gripped your hips so harshly that your ass was completely lifted off the bed. Seeing this, he picked you up entirely, slamming into you as you tried to hold on tight to him. “Fuck! Ethan!” You moaned as he took every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he huskily whispered into your ear as he fucked the lights out of you. You nodded. “Yes, Ethan. I’m yours,” you moaned as you shut your eyes tightly, completely overwhelmed from the stimulation. “Can I cum?” You asked, and Ethan didn’t answer. His hands that were gripping your ass gave it a light smack, making you jump a little.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, going deeper, getting closer. “Please Ethan!” You repeated. “Please let me cum!” You whimpered as he tore your pussy apart. He couldn’t hold back anymore; your whines turned him on so much, and he buried himself in your cunt as he shot his load inside you. “Cum,” he whispered into your ear, and you wasted no time to release.

You screamed, and your legs vibrated as you came all over his cock, just as his warm cum filled your pussy. “Take all my cum, good girl.” After he calmed down, he put you back on the bed and joined you.

He laid on the bed and placed you on top of him, his hand reaching down to rub your sensitive clit. You moaned as he touched you, and then you moaned into his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips pressed against your pillowy ones, and from the way you whimpered into the kiss, he felt himself getting hard again.

“I want you to ride me, okay?” He asked, although it was meant as an order, not a question. “Yes, sir,” you obeyed. He ran his hand through your soft, untangled hair, giving you a peck. What you didn’t know right now was that you were now Ethan’s. You didn’t know before, but all this time he’d been training you to be his, to be his perfect fuckdoll. “Good girl.”

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spiriteddreams · 11 months

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from me, the moon

Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: hanahaki, angst!, implies happy ending though dw i'm not feeling THAT cruel tonight, mentions of death (no actual death) Word Count: ~2.4k A/N: spirit waking up from a nap after a midterm: omg hanahaki with jing yuan!!

To you, the sun,

You feel it before you realize it has struck you. That feeling in your chest that has begun to blossom when you're in the presence of the Jing Yuan. You become acutely aware of the way your heart thunders when he's near, the way you quiet down when he laughs to hear him, and the horrifying realization that yes, you are in love with him.

I would like to apologize in advance.

But honestly, who isn't? Who wouldn't fall in love with such a gentle soul dedicated to protecting those he loves. The sacrifices he's made for the Xianzhou Luofu are found in the warm smiles, greetings, and gifts that he receives from the people. He's effortlessly handsome, with his hair pulled back, but not enough to keep some of his hair from falling in front of his eyes. It feels like a privilege to get a glimpse of those eyes of his, pools of melted gold that soften when they fall upon those who hold a special place in his heart. you wonder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such a look.

In the privacy of your own home, you allow yourself a moment of indulgence, to live in the fantasy of walking at his side, listening to the hum that builds from his chest as he nods along to what you would say. You imagine what it would be like to trace your hands along his skin, to cup his cheeks and turn him to face you so you can memorize his features. you wonder what it would feel like to feel his hands wander, if he could be as gentle with you as the way he holds the birds that seem to gravitate towards him.

I’m sure you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But I’ve made my bed, and it’s my time to lie in it.

Flower petals, splattered with droplets of blood, make their appearance for the first time that day.

I’m sorry.

An ancient curse, is what Bailu calls it, fixing you with a concerned stare. You can only laugh dryly at your luck, of course it would be you to have come down with some ancient curse that has caused you to cough out petals. You keep it to yourself, cradle half-bloodied flowers in your hands as you make excuses as to why you can’t join your friends for lunch, or why you can’t spend a morning to spar or play chess with the General. The less they know the better. (Right?)

Individual petals become clumps, and the clumps become half-made flowers. And by the time that the ever-attentive general decides to confront you about the sudden change in your behaviour, you're close to coughing out full flowers.

"Are you alright?" Jing Yuan asks as you sit across from him, cup of tea in your hands as you sit with your eyes closed, reveling in the warmth of your drink and that of his presence. "I haven't seen you around much. you're not avoiding me, are you?" Despite the chuckle that falls from his lips as he finishes speaking, you can still hear the hints of worry that he fails to hide. You suppose that's the result of knowing him for so long, the result of loving him for so long.

I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person.

"I wouldn't be here if I was avoiding you," you hum, opening your eyes to meet his. Your chest tightens when you see the concern in his eyes seem to melt away. The last thing you want is to worry him, and you hope that your attempt at banter will at least deter him for the meanwhile. but Jing Yuan is quiet, more so than usual. He spends longer studying you, making you squirm under his watchful gaze until you chide him for thinking too much.

"Well, I can tell something's on your mind, Strale for your thoughts?" he wants to know what's going on in your mind. He's not stupid, and is far too attentive to the way you seem to keep yourself at bay, holding your tongue and sipping tea as if it would keep you from speaking.

Funny how you called me the bravest you knew, and yet the one time when I should have come clean, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

"I think I might be stricken with mara." Out of the corner of your eyes you see him stiffen. You look down at the steam that curls from your cup, caressing your face as if knowing that the man next to you wouldn't do the same.

Forceful laughter is pushed from his lips. “Don’t play jokes on me, dear. Have you come down with a cold? I know some of the Cloud Knights are out sick because of some bug that has gone around. You must have caught it when we sparred with them.” Your silence gnaws at Jing Yuan, and he can feel anxiety bubbling in his chest. It begins to grow when you turn away from him to take a breath. He watches, almost in slow motion, as you set your cup aside and look at him.

Thank you, Jing Yuan, for being my friend.

There is acceptance in your eyes, and Jing Yuan’s mouth goes dry. “Are you certain? Have you been diagnosed by a doctor? I can call for my doctor, I’m sure it’s not mara-struck—”

“Jing Yuan. There’s no other explanation,” neither of you can tell if the softness of your tone is an attempt to comfort yourself or him. His palms feel sweaty, the lump in his throat lodged so that words fail to come forth. He doesn’t like the way you say his name like this. It doesn’t roll off your tongue the way it usually does, and he finds himself grasping at anything to urge you to tell him that you might be wrong.

His desk becomes stacked with papers and reports about the mara-struck. The archivists watch as he spends longer nights conducting research, hair slipping from its hold as for the first time in years, the great General of the Xianzhou Luofu begins to lose a grasp on his composure. He calls upon Fu Xuan to divine what she can, and yet the grimace on her face paired with her admittance that the future is too foggy for her to divine makes his heart drop.

I have loved you longer than you could imagine. Thank you for allowing me to be at your side for as long as I did. I will treasure these memories forever, no matter where I am.

He finds himself alone in his room, head in his hands as he sits at his desk. Your medical reports, handed to him by your own hands, are missing something. There’s something you’re hiding from him and he needs to know what it is. For the first time, he begins to doubt the words you’ve said to him. You’ve had no reason to lie to him thus far, so why does it feel like you’re trying to hide something serious.

He lets the anxiety fester before finally, Yanqing is the one who forces him to his feet to find the only doctor he hadn’t visited yet. Jing Yuan watches as Yanqing lets his own worries and fears come spilling out and he realizes how much your condition has affected others. He chides himself for selfishly thinking that he was the only one trying to find a cure for your illness.

“They’re growing weaker,” Yanqing bites the inside of his cheek. “I went to visit them but I didn’t see any signs of Mara on their skin. But the Vidyadhara doctor, Bailu, was there. She gave me this letter and asked me to give it to you. She left in a hurry, but maybe we can ask her about them, right General?” There’s hope in the boy’s tone as if he too, was trying to grasp at anything to make sense of sudden fall to this illness. So clearly, a visit to the energetic doctor is next.

By this time, I’m sure you’ve uncovered the truth. The extent of my lies can only extend so far. I’m sure Bailu has spoken to you already. Be kind to her, will you?

“Mara? No, who told you that? That’s ridiculous, have you seen them? Didn’t they tell you?” Bailu stares up at him, unimpressed. “It’s Hanahaki. Surely you’ve heard of it, well, perhaps you haven’t. There’s no recorded cure. They told you all this, right?”

“They told me it was Mara,” Jing Yuan feels like he’s out of breath. He isn’t sure what to feel, the mix of emotions closing in on him. He wants to be upset with you and yet he can’t understand why you had been so bent on lying to his face. Not just him, but to Yanqing, to Yukong, to everyone else for the sake of what?

“It’s an ancient curse,” Bailu shakes her head.

Ancient curse. The words ring in his head. He figures the expressions on his and Yanqing’s faces are enough to give away their confusion. And he can only feel his chest tighten and tighten as he listens to Bailu explain the first time you came to her, tears building in the corner of your eyes, hands cupped to your chest and flecks of blood splattered on your palms. He listens as Bailu explains how you begged her not to say anything, that you would be the one to admit the truth. He listens as he hears of how your condition seemed to grow worse, day by day. He reads the medical reports that the Vidyadhara solemnly gives him and becomes acutely aware of his own shaky breath. He recognizes the days when you had gone to visit him, indulged in his requests to soak up the warmth of the sun as he put aside his work or to share stories over tea and a game of chess. The same days that you visited him are the same days that you came to Bailu.

Please, my dear, don’t blame yourself for my own faults. You have been nothing but supportive, caring, and kind. There is nothing more that I can ask of you other than you take care of yourself, please?

Jing Yuan knows loss better than anyone. He has faced loss in his own family and has watched as close friends and comrades have lost their lives on the battlefield. He knows of sacrifice, of that gut wrenching feeling when you are faced with the hard truth. He knows the feeling of defeat when he fights his master, initially hesitant in his blows before he gives into fate. The sight of his master’s thankful smile, a last moment of clarity breaks his heart. He knows of all these heartbreaking feelings, the same ones that have built up his walls, guarded his heart thus far and led him to become the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu. The scars that litter his body are a result of hundreds of years of training, of hard-won battles and choking defeats, so really, there is nothing that can shake his resolve after all that he's been through. He isn’t sure what’s worse: how easily he believed your lies, or the reality of this sickness that you’ve come down with.

I’m sure all will be well. Don’t forget about me or I’ll haunt your dreams! (Stop falling asleep while you’re at work okay?)

He wants to yell, to go back in time and push harder for you to tell him the truth. He curses this long life that he has been cursed with. Because your time is fleeting, so quickly slipping from his grasp and he will live longer to live. He hates to imagine what it might be like when—

Visit me one last time, please?

He indulges in your request, shedding all armour and weapons at the door. He visits you with nothing but his jumble of emotions. To bring you flowers as a get-well-soon gift would be too cruel. But perhaps it’s more cruel for you to invite him over.

He hates the way you smile at him so warmly, that knowing look in your eyes prying through ivy ridden gates into his mind. You know what he wants to say, and when he sits down at your bedside and wraps his hand around yours, you squeeze gently.

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks. You look at him curiously, about to tell him to stop apologizing, that he has nothing, and will never have anything to apologize for when it comes to you. But you stop when you catch sight of his eyes, watery golden pools that beg you to stay. He can’t get the words out but in the silence, there is more than enough said.

All my love.

(I love you, he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss that he hopes will say enough. He doesn’t catch the way your eyes start to clear up and the way you gasp softly.)

From me, the moon.

———

To you, the sun,

I would like to apologize in advance. I’m sure you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But I’ve made my bed, and it’s my time to lie in it. I’m sorry. I wish I had the courage to admit it to you in person. Funny how you called me the bravest you knew, and yet the one time when I should have come clean, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Thank you, Jing Yuan, for being my friend. I have loved you longer than you could imagine. Thank you for allowing me to be at your side for as long as I did. I will treasure these memories forever, no matter where I am. By this time, I’m sure you’ve uncovered the truth. The extent of my lies can only extend so far. I’m sure Bailu has spoken to you already. Be kind to her, will you? Please, my dear, don’t blame yourself for my own faults. You have been nothing but supportive, caring, and kind. There is nothing more that I can ask of you other than you take care of yourself, please? I’m sure all will be well. Don’t forget about me or I’ll haunt your dreams! (Stop falling asleep while you’re at work okay?) Visit me one last time, please?

All my love.

From me, the moon.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: ok it's eepy time again for spirit bc i have to start working on my finals now :(

#honkai star rail #hsr #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail angst #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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thehighladywrites · 3 months

Text

- “if it is so wrong, why does it feel so good?”

pairing: stalker/perv!azriel x reader, nesta, elain and feyre mentioned

summary: stalking and perving is azriel’s favorite activities. What happens when you finally drop the oblivious mask and confront him

warnings: dark content, stalking, perving (on literally everyone), breaking and entering, stealing panties, az having a darker side, getting turned on by your fear, az eating you out, reader being bold and hot as fuck omg,

amara’s note: okay this is very short bc it’s my first time writing a dark fic. Also i hope you like it and pls read the warnings.

Azriel knows he is some sort of sick freak. He knows he should resist his sinful glances at Feyre when she's cozied up on Rhysand's lap. He flexes a little extra just to spark Nesta's desires, fully aware of her fantasies. And as for Elain, well, let's just say he's playing a forbidden game of spying while she bends over to plant her greens.

Azriel's is extremely aware he shouldn't be harboring forbidden desires or indulging in the secret pleasure of stalking someone as seemingly innocent as yourself.

Azriel, the ultimate mastermind, keeps everyone guessing. Who would suspect the quiet, brooding and publicly respected spymaster to be a closeted perv and sick stalker? It's his most guarded secret hidden beneath the intimidating exterior.

Little does Azriel know, you're fully aware of his perverse behavior—his wandering eyes and spying shadows. It surprises you that no one has figured him out yet; after all, it seems quite apparent, doesn't it?

You don’t miss his lurking shadows following you around for hours. A regular fae would’ve missed it but not you. You’ve grown accustomed to him and his ways. You know him better than anyone else and you definitely know of his stalker tendencies.

Azriel believes he's smooth, avoiding outright ogling. Instead, he strategically glances at you during training with Cassian and while sharpening his weapons, subtly appreciating the way your body moves.

Pervert azriel walks up to you, complimenting your form, claiming while it’s good there’s something you need to fix. You don’t mind if he needs to grab your waist while fixing your pose right? And of course you’ll excuse him if he accidentally brushes against your boobs and ass. I mean he just wants to help you perfect your form!

He watches you walking through Velaris from the shadows, always hiding one of his shadows with you. He tells himself that he does it for your safety. Who knows, you might be attacked and he needs to be ready.

He absolutely doesn’t want to hear how much of a hypocrite he is for also stalking you in the safety of your home aswell.

Azriel steals your panties, silently breaking into your room as he looks through your drawers, skimming through the collection of panties. He promises himself it’s the last time, though he’s made the same pledge seven times before.

Azriel's stalking tendencies lead him to roam through your belongings, touching everything to become familiar with your world. He goes to your vanity, picking up your perfumes, and indulges in the forbidden pleasure of smelling the one thing he desires most—you.

Lying in your bed, his head on your pillow, he starts shifting in the sheets, inhaling more of your scent. He revels in the trespass and wrongness of being in your bed, knowing that you might catch a hint of his own scent lingering there, a twisted thought crossing his mind that it could confuse, frighten, or even arouse you.

His cock swells at the thought of you scared, heart beating fast, trying to place who the scent belongs to.

He looks around and finds one of your shirts on the bed and picks it up to his nose.

Then he does the one thing he swore he would never stoop to. He pulls out his already hard cock and strokes it while inhaling your scent from the shirt.

—

He has timed you and learned your schedule hence why he now knows that you’ll be in the shower for the next twenty minutes, giving him the perfect opportunity for his perverse activities. He’ll pick up the laciest most intricate pair, keeping it in his room as some sort of trophy with the other stuff he has taken from you. No one can enter into his room anyways, it’s safe…

Pervert Azriel looks through the little crack in your door as you stand there posing infront of a mirror while wearing pretty much nothing. A lacy little lingerie set as you touch your body, hands traveling all over your tits, waist, ass then up through your hair as you spin around, admiring yourself.

You know Azriel is standing at your door, he isn’t really all that subtle with his hand down his pants as he jerks off at the sight of you.

It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll back into the back of your head, fucking gods, he’s pathetic.

You wanted to fuck him for the longest time. He could just ask you to fuck and you’d say yes yet here he is thinking he’s slick as he pervs on you. Even with all that in mind, there’s a sick, twisted adrenaline rush spreading through your body at the thought of the esteemed and highly respected spymaster doing something so dark and wrong like this.

“I know you're there, Az. Come out,” you say, a wicked smile forming on your face as you plot to utterly humiliate him.

His entire body freezes and Azriel cautiously emerges from the shadows, realizing he's been caught. You maintain that mischievous grin, ready to unleash your plan. The air thickens with anticipation as the confrontation unfolds.

“Az?”

He looks like he’s about to jump out of the nearest window as he looks at you through the mirror.

“Yes?”

“Why are you such a disgusting little pervert? Here I am trying on some clothes and you’re just perving on me. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean I could be super afraid and you wouldn’t have any remorse? Who does something like that?”

Azriel's face heats up at the mocking question, flushing as he tries to respond.

“Az, I asked you a question,” you assert, walking over to him. His embarrassment is palpable as he apologizes, rambling about not knowing what came over him, begging you not to tell anyone.

You already know the answer, and a knowing smile plays on your lips as he seeks forgiveness.

“You’ve done a very bad thing, Azriel. Bad people deserve to be punished. You of all people understand that, right?”

Pushing him back onto one of the sofas in your room, you creep closer, leaning over to whisper. Looking down at him, you place your hand on his cheek, letting your nails dig in a little.

“I think you deserved to be punished.”

Azriel's heart raced, fearing exposure for his hidden activities. Was this it? Would you punish him by revealing his actions to everyone?

Before he could plead for forgiveness, you stood up, walking back to your bed and beckoning him over with two fingers.

As he approached, ready to sit, you extended your leg, placing your foot on his stomach, halting him in his tracks..

“Not so fast,” you assert, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “The bed is reserved for me. You can kneel on the floor.”

Azriel complies, gracefully sinking to his knees. His gaze meets yours, his beautiful eyes revealing a mixture of submission and desire.

“You’re going to eat my pussy. If you manage to make me cum, I won’t tell anyone about your disgusting behavior, understand?”

He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Was he really about to taste you? About to experience the fantasy he'd daydreamed about every single day? He nods, but a disapproving tsk follows.

“I need more than a nod, Azriel. Do you understand?”

A quick, “Yes, I understand,” escapes his lips.

You can't help but smile at the swiftness of his compliance.

“That’s good. Now, I’ll be taking off my bra and panties and they’re very expensive and new so they better not go missing.”

Azriel affirms his understanding and then proceeds to drool over the way you slowly strip infront of him before you spread your legs and tell him to start.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge as he dips his head down to run his tounge up and down your slit, tasting you before playing with your clit.

You gasp in pleasure, letting out moans as your hands find their way to his hair, urging him to keep going.

Azriel’s hands dig into your thighs that are currently smushing his head. He decides to let you continue, telling himself that if he dies like this, he'd go down as the happiest person in history.

“T-that’s it, right there.”

A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel two of his fingers enter you. Your hands grab his dark soft hair as he started pumping his fingers, relishing at the way your soaking cunt is squelching and squeezing him.

You whimper at the way his thick fingers strecth you out then curl against that secret spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to slowly fuck yourself on them, eager for more of him.

“You taste even better than I imagined, fuck.”

His desperate voice only spurred you on.

It doesn’t take much longer for that feeling to build up in your stomach, the tight cord eventually snapping. You squeeze and throb around his fingers as you cum hard, letting out whines and mumbles.

Azriel helps you ride out your high, memorizing every facial expression in case this is the last time you ever let him this close again.

He pulls out his fingers and lick them clean then goes back and licks your pussy clean.

You let out a giggle at the sight before you, casting him a look of fake sympathy as you pull yourself together.

“Well, look at that. Seems like I’ll be keeping your secret after all. I mean, what a shame to loose such a good little pussy eater, right? I might just keep you around.”

You beckon him to rise, tossing your underwear onto the sofa before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Glancing back at his flushed face and heavy breathing, you offer a secret smile.

“Who knows, next time I might even let you fuck me.”

Turning around, you leave him to his thoughts as the shower starts.

Azriel stands there for a moment, his desire evident. Unable to resist, he takes your panties and bra, always craving something of yours.

He promises to himself that he won't do it for an eighth time before hurrying back to his room, to finally help himself

🏷️ taglist: @stasiereads @clairebear08 @daycourtofficial @historiaxvanserra @rowaelinsdaughter @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @redbleedingrose @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay

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scatteredskittless · 2 months

Note

Alastor with an extroverted singer reader(headcanons preferred!)? I just.. can't stop imagining reader featuring on his radio show to sing or something when they grow closer, it plagues my mind ;_; (also love your layout!!)

Alastor x Extroverted! Singer! Reader

A/n: OMG I LOVE THIS WHAT ?! also thank you so much !! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Warnings: None

Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Little backstory ⋆ ˚｡⋆

🎤✮ You’re a famous singer inside and outside of hell !! When you were alive you were a singer in the 2010’s and that legacy carried on into your afterlife :3

🎤✮ Once you heard of the “Hazbin Hotel” and all it had to offer (granted, it didn’t seem like much else other than a free room and some false hope..) you decided to go check it out, quickly piquing the curiosity of a certain Radio Demon…

📻𖤐 Alastor noticed your little habit of singing to yourself or humming a tune he didn’t quite recognize as you pranced around the hotel. He enjoyed observing people, after all.

📻𖤐 You seemed to never lack energy which was amusing to him to say the least; Always so exuberant and talkative to the people here, including him. It was like you had no clue who he was…

📻𖤐 He was here a while in hell before you showed up so of course you weren’t familiar with the Radio Demons legacy but still, it’s not like he knew that.

📻𖤐 Speaking of not knowing things, Alastor doesn’t own a phone or watch any TV so he also has no clue who you are either !! Guess that makes it even ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

📻𖤐 It was only once you two started actually hanging out that he realized that you were a singer. Not exactly a huge revelation with all the singing you do and how you often disappeared at night all dolled up (to do concerts). Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.

📻𖤐 Oh and not only were you a singer, you were a famous one. Though he’s not exactly surprised he’s never heard of you before, he’s not up to date with that kind of stuff unless Rosie’s told him about it.

📻𖤐 As you got closer with Alastor, he had decided to invite you as a special guest on his radio broadcast to sing !

📻𖤐 You happily excepted his offer, of course.

📻𖤐 it’s safe to say you became a special broadcast guest more often after the first time you appeared on his show. He’s started to take a liking to you ♡

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

#asks open #alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Note

HI OMG UR FICS ARE INTOXICATING WTH!!!

Can I please req a Din Djarin where he and the reader are travelling together and reader is bubbly/sunshine personality and then she admits her feelings and Din doesn’t reciprocate at first.. then her personality changes and she’s all sad and he can’t stand it!!!! Cause he does love her and he can’t bare to see her that way!!!

Super angst and fluff please 😭😭😭😭 THANK H IF U DECIDE TO WRITE THIS 🤍🤍

HELLO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ofc im writing anything u request lysm ur the best plus the prompt is so adorable ahufsdkfjhfs. just to try sumth new, im gonna switch it up and do this one from din’s pov. lmk what you think!!

Enough

Summary: Din rejects reader when she confesses her feelings to him even though he feels the same, only to regret it later.

Pairing: Grumpy! Din x Sunshine! Reader (no use of y/n)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: none, just a lot of angst and fluff

masterlist

——————————————————————————————————

Din Djarin was not a good man. He was aware of this, which is why he was careful not to get to close. Not to taint things with his darkness; the destruction that seemed to shadow him wherever he went. He learned to turn his head away when you sung softly to the child, to clench his fists and keep himself from reaching for you when you giggled at your own terrible (adorable) jokes, to steel himself against your pleas to purchase every single fuzzy fabric you saw, no matter the form. Socks, blankets, shirts, trousers, even a kriffing hat, which Din stopped and let you buy just to stop the stares he was getting from people at the way you were practically jumping in your spot, pointing at the shop’s display.

But despite his best wishes, Din was not a strong man, either. Not as strong as he needed to be, to resist you. You, with a beaming smile that never failed to make him blush under his helmet; with tender, caring hands that looked so soft that Din wanted to rip his beskar off so you could brush them against him, just once. Your hair, which smelled so sweet that Din could catch traces of it through the beskar. Your eyes, almost siren-like when you blinked up at him while rambling away about something. The way you scrunched your nose with a snort when you couldn’t hold in a laugh. The fact that you had never, ever asked for his name - or an explanation of his helmet, for that matter - even when he knew you hadn’t heard of Mandalorians before. The lilting notes of laughter in your voice before you turned to him with a sly smile, offering him with a witty quip he would have killed others for voicing, before throwing back your head and howling. No, Din was nowhere near strong enough to stand a single damn chance against you.

He could hear you humming to yourself and the baby while you heated some broth, stopping to lean down and pepper kisses all over Grogu’s face as he cooed happily. Walking into the cockpit, he grunted in acknowledgement of your “Hey, Mando! Sleep well?” before turning to the child and nudging his helmet against his wrinkly forehead. When he turned around to see a gentle smile gracing your face in acknowledgement of the scene in front of you, he straightened up and cocked his helmet as if daring you to comment.

He was itching for a fight: something, anything to stop the sweet torture of your presence which seemed to breathe life into your surroundings, no matter where you stood. You’d find a way to brighten a graveyard, Cyar’ika. Your smile tightened slightly before you presented him with a bowl of his own, brushing past him to take the child in your arms and leave the cockpit. Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind begging him to let you stay, to apologise for his hostility. To hear you prattle on about something menial while he ate, to revel in the domesticity of being with you. Not like that, of course. You were simply too good for him. Too perfect; too pristine. Your eyes too bright and your heart too soft for him to be worthy of your love. And so Din slipped off his helmet, ducked his head, and ate in silence.

He had noticed that lately, you still spoke to him, but you’d leave with the child more often. He could hear conspiratorial whispers sometimes, the child nodding and babbling his own input as if the two of you were hiding something. You weren’t awkward around him, per se, just less readily giving of your laughter, your jokes, your mindless chatter. All Din knew was that his mind would not rest unless he confronted you, and soon. A restless yearning for your erratic, unnecessarily bright gestures gave way to the anxiety spooling in his gut. Had you finally seen him for what he is?

So later that day, after the supply run when you had fed and put Grogu to sleep, he approached you in the cockpit. He shuffled uneasily behind you, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited for you to break the silence. But uncharacteristically, you just continued to stare into hyperspace without a word. When Din cleared his throat, you turned your head his way. But your gaze was flitting around; your hands fiddling nervously in your lap. Why were you apprehensive?

“Are you…” Din swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his question, “okay?” Are we okay?You looked up at him then, your eyes wide with anxiety, before looking down at your lap again. Could you be…scared? Of me?

But then you took a deep breath; the nerves fading from your face and giving way to a look of complete resignation, your shoulders slumping with the weight of inevitability. Your gaze met his visor, and he could see that your fingers were lightly curled into fists.

“I don’t really know how to do this, Mando.” Another deep breath. The colour has faded from your face and suddenly you seemed so small, folded in on yourself, that Din had never had to wrestle harder with his own self-control to stop himself from pulling you into his chest and holding you; comforting you, until you’re back to your bouncy self. “You know that I like most people, right?” He nods; you do seem to like and be liked by most people he’s come across, even the ones he would deem unworthy to so much as look at you.

“I’ve always really enjoyed meeting new people, and making friends. Life is easier when you’ve got people, right?” You’re rambling again, but instead of the usual enthusiasm lacing your tone, crippling worry dripped from your every word. Are you leaving him?

“I think-I know that I like you more than I like everyone else. Anyone else. I like everything about you more than I’ve ever liked about anyone else and I just…” you trailed off, gulping. “It feels like you and Grogu are my family, already. And I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you might want more than this, like I do. I-fuck it-I’m in love with you, Mando.” And then you’re shying away from him again, biting your lip as you search his visor for a reaction.

You’re in love with him? This has to be a joke. Din waited for the catch, standing unmovingly in front of you as if waiting for one of your signature punchlines to come tumbling out of your mouth. When it doesn’t, he just gaped at you, his mind overwhelmed with too many thoughts to even say anything. A part of him had never been happier than this moment right here; never loved you more than right now. But the other, more dominant part of him was practically reprimanding him. And what now, idiot? Profess your undying love to her and subject her to a life as the wife of a bounty hunter? No comfortable homes, no proper vacations or even neighbors. A life on the run. With you, dikuit - a man who has never been loved enough to understand how to reciprocate. There is nothing you can give her. There is nothing you can do.

Din bristled under your gaze, suppressing a wince at the words that came out of his mouth next. “You mean to tell me that you are in love with a man you have never even see the face of? A man who hasn’t even told you his name? Stop lying to yourself. There is no ‘family’. You are the child’s caretaker, and nothing more. It would be best for you not to forget that in the future.” He wanted to slap a hand to his mouth, to bite his tongue - anything, anything not to see the way you wilted in front of him as his words registered. You slumped further in the chair, shoulders curving inwards as you brought your knees to your chest to curl up into a protective position, as if he was hurting you. Frustrated by the fact that he could neither pull you in his arms to comfort you, nor find it in himself to continue spewing bullshit he didn’t mean, Din just turned and walked away. He pretended not to hear the muffled crying echoing through the ship that night.

——————————————————————————————————

That had been three weeks ago. He’d gone for a hunt right after, returning within the week. What he found back at the ship made a part of him wish he wouldn’t have returned at all. Your eyes sat bloodshot on hollow cheeks, sunken in your face as dark blotches formed under them. You were quiet, even with the concerned child - all the singing, humming goneas if it had never been. Grogu kept gesturing to you when he father looked his way, as if asking what was wrong. Din knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave you alone again, so he’d been mumbling excuses to you each morning as to why he was still on the ship. You’d never answer, just offering him the barest dip of your chin. Din hadn’t just rejected you-he’d been cruel about it. And he hadn’t slept since the night he’d spat those pathetic words at you in an effort of self-preservation, either. The moment kept replaying in his head over and over: your initial nervousness, the words you’d said to him, and your wince at the ones he’d reciprocated with.

But like he’d admitted: Din Djarin was not a strong man. For you; only for you, he would crumble. To see your usual cheeriness replaced by this emptiness nearly made his knees buckle. You’d stopped eating, too - quietly slipping your food to Grogu, whose concern was overridden by his constant hunger. He’d done this: out of fear of hurting you, he’d reduced you to a mere shadow of what you used to be by doing it anyways. Out of his fear of fucking it up, he’d gone and done that exact thing without even trying to make it work. It was unacceptable to him, to go without hearing your laugh or your jokes or your humming. Not to see you giggling with Grogu. Fix it then, dikuit. So he would.

Din walked into the cockpit, picked Grogu up from his place on the floor, and whispered a soft apology to him before shutting him in his cot. Grogu, ever-understanding, had just pressed a claw to his helmet and nodded as if wishing him luck. Thanks kid, I’m going to need it. He’d seen your confusion when he had taken Grogu out of the cockpit, but youremained mute. Walking back towards you, Din could feel his chest hurting at the way your hands shook and your eyes glossed over when he got closer.

“I’m sorry.” His words have no effect; a tilt of your head is the only proof you offer to show that you heard him. Ironic, isn’t it, to be at the receiving end of what I do to others all the time? “For how harsh I was. I didn’t mean it.” Your mouth opens this time, but he raises a hand to stop you. If he doesn’t get this out now, he never will. “I was the one lying to myself, not you. I fell in love with you a long, long time ago, ner’karta. But I was scared-still am-because I have nothing good to give you. Not like what you deserve. My creed alone means that I can’t show you my face until we get married. My job doesn’t allow me stability. I have never been…loved. I do not know how to love you properly. All I know is that it doesn’t feel like a good morning until you say it, that I feel myself flushing under my beskar when you smile at me, that I have to bite my lip to stop a chuckle when you tell me your jokes. All I know is that since you’ve come into my life and made it brighter, it seems I can’t face the darkness alone again. These past two weeks have been hell, cyar’ika. I cannot bear to see you like this. Please forgive me. I will drop you off anywhere you wish to go.”

And then your face is twisting and you’re sobbing - large, shuddering sobs that alarm Din when they begin. He reaches a tentative hand out towards you slowly, giving you more than enough opportunity to slap it away. When you don’t, he steps closer and pulls you into his chest. As I should have done then. You shake with the force of your hiccups, and Din reaches to rip off his gloves before wrapping his arms around you, a warm hand coming to cradle your head against him. All he can say is a feverish repetition of “I’m sorry, I’m sorrymy love, please forgive me”.

By the time your tears subside, you can hear sniffs coming from under the helmet too; his modulated voice cracking and giving away his own crying. “Y-you don’t get to-to decide for me. You can’t decide whether or not you can offer enough or whether you can love me properly or not. Just love me, Mando. All you have to do is try.” Your voice is so fragile, so tentative as you speak into his chest that Din’s heart aches at the pain he can hear in it. You continue, “I don’t need stability from you, nor do I need your name or face. To have your heart is enough.” And though you can’t see it, Din has to shut his eyes and brace himself against the weight of his own tears this time. His chest warming, butterflies in his stomach as he tucks you impossible closer.

“Like I said, cyar’ika, you’ve had it for a very long time.” And then you’re smiling again, as Din’s knees threaten to buckle from the force of emotion that wells up at the sight. You’ve pulled back from his chest, but stay close enough to graze his helmet with your nose.

“Is that so, Mando? Do I want to know how long?” You whisper back, somehow looking straight into his eyes despite the visor.

“Din.” At your frown, he clarifies hesitantly. “My name, cyar’ika. Din Djarin.” You beam brighter, repeating it to yourself. “Wait - cyar’ika? You started calling me that last year, when you were annoyed I bought that fuzzy green hat with frog ear and Grogu tried to eat it on the way home. I thought it was like a swear word, or something -not that I think you would swear at me, you just seemed very annoyed, you know?”

A chuckle slips past his modulator, before he gives in completely. “Close your eyes, please.” When you comply, he rips his helmet off and cups your jaw with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to yours gently, leaning back to look at you. “Beloved, cyare. It means beloved.” Before he can say anything else, your hands tangle in his hair, and suddenly you’re pulling him back into another kiss. And another. And another.

You two remain so wrapped up in each other that you actually forget to leave the cockpit until Grogu stomps in, having apparently broken out of his cot, and begins babbling at you both angrily, before seeing the smile on your face after so long and hurtling towards you at full speed, nearly tripping on his robes in the process before you catch him in your arms.

It was true, though. You didn’t need Din to go out of his way to give you anything. This was enough.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore

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nanowrimo · 6 months

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Pro Tips from a NaNo Coach: How to Write a Clean(ish) Fast Draft

NaNoWriMo can seem like a daunting task sometimes, for NaNo newbies and veterans alike. Fortunately, our NaNo Coaches are here to help guide you through November! Today, author Jesse Q. Sutanto is here to share her advice on how to set yourself up for noveling success:

Dear Nano-ers,

My first book took me three years to cobble together. During that time, I joined Absolute Write—a free writers forum which I completely love and recommend to all aspiring writers—and I made a friend who convinced me to try doing NaNoWriMo. I was completely unconvinced, but I am a people-pleaser and I can never say no, so I agreed to try it for my second novel.

My second novel took me less than a month to write. It was a complete mess, but it was also a revelation. Often, I felt myself falling into that writing Holy Grail—the hole which consumes you, makes you forget the rest of the world, and absorbs you completely in the world you are creating on paper. I loved the process deeply, and never looked back since. All of my subsequent books have since been written in a matter of months.

And you know what? They were all a horrific mess. I did not learn how to do a clean and fast draft until my NINTH book, and I don’t think I would’ve ever learnt without the help of NaNoWriMo. So here are my tips on how to best tackle a sprint-a-thon like NaNo.

1. Try to come up with a loose outline.

When I first started writing, I was a pure pantser. I had no idea what was going to happen before I sat down to write. This is a completely legit way of writing, but I have since learned that it is massively helpful to have an idea, even a vague one, of what you are trying to say with your book. What was really helpful for me was to sit down for just five minutes before writing each scene and try to envision what I wanted the scene to achieve. Once I had that in mind, the scene became much easier to write.

2. Break down your writing time.

Ever heard of the Pomodoro technique? In order to hit 50,000 words a month, you need to write around 1,600 words a day. That is a heck of a lot of words to write! Break it down. Set 10 or 15-minute timers and use that to your advantage. Trust me, if you told me to sit down and write 1,600 words, I would be like, “Omg that’s too much!” But if you told me to just write for 15 minutes, that feels a lot more doable.

3. Give yourself permission to write trash.

Before each writing session, I actually say out loud: “I am going to write trash.” And this gives me permission to write whatever comes to my mind without judgment. You can always edit later, but for now, focus on letting the words out on paper.

4. Lean on others for support.

I made the mistake of thinking that writing is a lonely vocation. In fact, it is one of the most social things I could do. Social media, while a double-edged sword, has done so much for the writing community. I have found all of my close writer friends through social media, and I chat with them every day and consider them my close, lifelong friends. Don’t be afraid to reach out and make connections within the community. You are not alone.

Jesse Q. Sutanto is the award-winning, bestselling author of Dial A for Aunties, Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers, Well, That Was Unexpected, The Obsession, and Theo Tan and the Fox Spirit. The film rights to her women’s fiction, Dial A for Aunties, was bought by Netflix in a competitive bidding war, and the TV rights to Vera Wong was bought by Warner Bros, with Oprah and Mindy Kaling attached to produce. She has a master’s degree in creative writing from Oxford University, though she hasn’t found a way of saying that without sounding obnoxious.

#nanowrimo #writing #nanowrimo 2023 #writing advice #writing tips #writblr #by nano coach #jesse q. sutanto

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osachiyo · 10 months

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Can i request Fyodor x shy fem reader but in her mind is full of sexual desires and thought that Fyodor didn't notice about it? , feel free to ignore I really love your writing Btw English isn't my first language if i misspelled or you not understand what i say , I'm sorry 😭💖

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- FAUX INNOCENCE ? -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

➺note! omg hi anon! Trust me, your english isn't too bad! I could understand everything perfectly, no need to apologise.I was so happy to see this request because this Russian rat man has me on a tight leash 😭 also I love this idea a lot, thanks for requesting!! ♡♡♡ MINORS DNI OR NIKOLAI WILL DRAG YOU INTO A ROOM FILLED WITH MANEATING MUTATED RATS AND BURN THE KEY.

Okay so first of all, you cannot hide anything from this man 😭 like it's almost impossible. Fyodor is great at reading people and he knows you're hiding something from him pretty early on in the relationship.

He honestly loved your shy personality. He found you absolutely adorable and just so so easy to manipulate.

He was a little shocked to find out some of the stuff you were into because you just seemed so shy and innocent?

But you, oh sweet you, being completely oblivious to the fact that he's catching on.

Trust me, he will slowly but surely notice your dirty mind. It isn't what he expected but it's alright, it amuses him a bit actually.

He'll catch you staring at his fingers as he's typing or writing something and biting your bottom lip. He'll say with a teasing grin, "just what are you thinking about, my little mouse?" Catching you off guard as you scramble to find an excuse.

But after dating for a while, as you slowly got more comfortable around him, he'd want you to tell him exactly what you wanted from him. You want his fingers? Ask for it. You want his mouth? Plead for it. You want his cock? Beg for it.

It slowly moves on to more frisky stuff as well...

You want him to wrap his hand around your throat? Ask nicely. You want him to tie you up and take you in front of Nikolai? Get down on your knees and beg him. Even though he has no intention of sharing you of course, he just wants to see you beg. He also revels in the sight of your disappointed and bashful look as he denies your idea of bringing Nikolai into your bedroom activities, even if it's just watching.

He will praise and reward you for being good, of course. A good pet deserves a good treat.

But if you disobey him and act like a brat? Hohoho... get ready for a long night.

He'd tie you up with a little vibrator or his fingers playing with your pussy as he makes you say all of your kinks to him.

He'd try them all out one by one, absolutely destroying your pathetic little pussy as you sob and wail :(

And if one of your kinks is orgasm denial.....good luck.

You have been tied to the bedpost for god knows how long, with intricate silk ribbons holding you in place, a tiny purple vibrator attached to your clit by your lover. You knew pissing Fyodor off wasn't a good idea but it wasn't your fault Nikolai basically forced you to! Now you were in this embarrassing position in front of the Russian man. Legs spread and tied back with the ribbons as he toyed with your sopping cunt with that god forsaken vibrator. But there was a catch. You couldn't cum. Every time you were close to your sweet, sweet orgasm the vibrator was abruptly turned off, making you cry out with fat tears running down your puffed out cheeks. Fyodor simply tutted, sneering at you with a wicked smirk as he turned the vibrator back on, overstimulating your swollen clit.

"Fuck, Fedya please! 'wanna cum so so so so bad, p-please!" You wailed out, trying to thrash around but the ribbons were holding you firmly on place. Drool was spilling out from the corners of your mouth as you wailed to your cruel lover, who merely tilted his head. "Dear, didn't you say you were into this? You told me you liked orgasm denial, did you not?" You wanted to strangle him but also wanted to get pounded by him at the same time. You groaned, tears still falling from your swollen eyes, "That's enough, please! N-no more.." You sniffled. Fyodor just smiled, turning the vibrator at it's full setting and watching you throw your head back with a squeal as your pussy gushed, spraying clear liquid all over the silk sheets, soaking them. You thanked him over and over again while chanting his name like a prayer, finally relieved to receive your orgasm. He let you ride out your orgasm before turning the vibrator off. He knelt close to you again, staring with mischievous eyes. "Now now, myshka, what else did you tell me you were into? I'd like to try it out. Tonight."

©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #Fyodor smut #Fyodor x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs x reader smut #Bungou stray dogs x reader

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yestrday · 6 months

Note

YOYOYOYO

if it's possible to request 2 things from the humiliation prompt list, could I ask for "making them beg" and "forcing them to crawl" with either ayato or ajax .. OR ANOTHER GENSHIN MAN WHO HAS A BIT OF AN EGO!! u could literally pick whoever u want tbh I just need to see a genshin man with some kind of authority get knocked down a peg, bc im sick of them 😒

and if 2 prompts aren't possible then feel free to just pick one of the ones I listed, im happy with either and as long as u feel comfortable writing it!!

childe would definitely get on his knees without second though but ayato?? omg i havent thought of him begging till now <3

part of an ongoing event!

╰┈➤ TARTAGLIA childe.

you don't know what you were thinking when volunteering to look after the newly imprisoned harbinger, but looking back on it... you probably weren't thinking at all.

in his cell, he has you pinned to the ground, grinning wildly at you as he overpowers you in a show of strength. he wants the map to the fortress that's just jutting out of your pocket, but like hell you were gonna give that to him. if he's smart enough to catch you offguard, he's smart enough to plot an escape. you weren't taking your chances.

he laughs in your ear, and you see that the sick bastard actually likes seeing you struggle against his grip. "oh come on, pretty, just hand the map over and all will be good and dandy. i'm not asking too much, am i?"

"you're asking too much," you growl back, and the little shit laughs louder. while he's distracted by his own amusement, you find moment of weakness and kick him in the shin, to which he collapses on top of you. you roll him over as he clenches the pained spot, and before he can react, he has a baton to his neck and a glaring guard in his face. "assaulting a guard can add to your sentence, inmate. you should've thought of that before attacking me."

he continues to grin at you, and you start to wonder if he's even listening. "well, if a longer sentence means getting to see that pretty face of yours, i'm not too opposed to it." he sighs dreamily as the baton digs further into his neck. "especially if pretty can actually beat me up."

your lips curl into a disgusted scowl. "they say that the eleventh harbinger was questionable, but i didn't think you'd be this depraved." you dig a heel into his gut and he chokes out a pained laugh. "luckily, the fortress of meropide seeks to reform all criminals, no matter how sinful they are. now—" you deliver a swift kick to his stomach, sending him rolling back. before he can even push himself up, you stomp on his back and he falls to the ground once more. "you will beg for reformation, for us to clean that tainted heart of yours, harbinger."

"beg?" childe's head is spinning, and his heart is beating so loud his ears might burst. he can feel the burn in his stomach, and the heavy pressure of your boot digging into his skull. he didn't know that being visionless could make him this weak, being beaten up by a mere guard. "oh.. heh, i could beg all you w-want and more, p... pretty."

as you stomp on him again, a slight moan comes from him as his cheek hits the metal again. or maybe he wanted this. to receive a beating from someone as pretty as you. "disgusting. beg properly, harbinger, and do it right."

fuck his spine was almost halving. "p-please, reform this harbinger..." his begging comes out broken and wheezing from the pain, but there's an alarmingly wide grin on his face as he does so. "make me... urk... make me clean... i'll do anything you ask. p... please!"

a startling silence, but judging from how you lift your boot from his back, you seem to approve. "hm. passable." you watch your newest prisoner collapsed on all fours, shuddering on the ground as he revels in the warm pain blooming through his body. "reformation starts now, inmate. let us work together to correct your errors."

╰┈➤ KAMISATO AYATO pillar of fortitude.

"surely you have something to say to me, hm, young master?" you ask languidly, sifting through the documents in your hand. you're lazily stretched out over his office chair, playing around with the official seal of his family, yet you sit like an emperor on their throne. you cock your head at the young master, looking as bored as ever. "if not, i might just report this to the raiden shogun herself."

ayato sits like a commoner before you, heels digging into his behind as he glares at the floor. your figure is a shadow against the elegantly painted washi paper, and with only the moon and a flickering candle for light, it seems like your piercing eyes are the only features he can make out. your military cap tilts with your face as you regard ayato with indifference.

"nothing to say?" you sigh and let the papers drop. these are sealed, important documents, but when one drifts in front of his face, it almost seems like mockery. "ugh, i have to write up a whole report now thanks to you."

"wait." ayato grits out, still boring holes into the wooden floor. "p-please. don't release this information to her majesty, please. ayaka and thoma... they don't deserve this." they were only doing what was right. to clean up the mess your raiden shogun made. "we can handle this in private, just... just not..."

you sigh again, and it makes him bristle. you're acting like this is just another day for you and not the near doom of the kamisatos. "you're making an awful lot of demands for someone who's kneeling." you grin at him, those teeth looking predatory as you study his red face. "haven't ya ever heard of... 'sealing the deal'?" you tap the armrest with a sharp nail. "come here."

ayato begins to stand, but freezes when you shoot him a dissatisfied glare. "aren't you making a request? people who beg don't stand— they crawl. now again—" you tap the wooden armrest again. "come."

he doesn't have to do this. he shouldn't be doing this. he is the master of the kamisato estate, and he has more dignity than being reduced to crawling on the floor. but that's exactly what he finds himself doing. dragging his loose yukata against the floor as he knees you, clenching his teeth as he avoids your leering gaze, he's painfully aware of how disappointing he must look like to his parents above. the cold night air hits his skin, and his cheeks burn bright when he realizes just how loose his yukata might be when the cold hits his pale chest.

"good." you hum, stroking his hair. he couldn't help the euphoric shudder when your fingers graze his ear. "now, it's time for me to hear you beg properly."

#i feel like... this barely counts as yandere...#hm. troubling....#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere childe #yandere ayato #yester.writes #yester.events

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cheollipop · 10 months

Note

first of all HI HELLO IM SORRY FOR SPAM REBLOGGING ALL OF YOUR STUFF now that that’s out of the way…. speaking of idol radio when they were playing the “i love you” game and one mr being yunhos first step was like 5 feet long?!?!?!?!? all i could imagine was like teasing him all day and he’s finally had enough and is stalking up to you like that while trapping you against the wall i’m gonna scream he’s been bias wrecking me for like two months now and it’s SICK

THANK YOU FOR REBLOGGING OMG??? please don't apologize,, I love getting feedback and I am now crying happy tears in the corner of my room.

I've only watched random clips from that episode (it seems like atz are celebrating pride month wholeheartedly btw) and ikr?? everyone being whipped for yunho is so valid like... I'd be fighting every single member for him if I were them too. he just HAS to use those long ass legs to bias wreck me even more--so I get you on that dw skfjje

(this ended up being a gn!reader drabble btwww)

no bc imagine after a long day of filming, his eyes trailing off the cameras to you—sitting cross-legged behind the director, complimenting all the members except him after every scene then looking up at him through your eyelashes, blinking innocently as though you were unaware of what you were doing. the music video shoot took longer than usual, the crew sharing bewildered glances as—out of everybody—yunho repeatedly messed up the choreography.

clad in yunho's puffer jacket, you made your way back to the dressing rooms after the shoot with him trailing behind you, waiting for the soft click of the door before turning around to face him. a shiver ran down your spine at his narrowed eyes, a visible twitch moving his left eyebrow as he continued his steps towards you. long, toned legs moved forward and you instinctively cowered back, your palms swinging behind you until they collided with the painted wall.

now trapped between yunho's towering body and the cool concrete, you blinked up at him cautiously, noting the subtle clench of his jaw.

"having fun?" he spoke, voice gruff and strained as his molars grinded over each other.

you stiffled the sly smile teasing at the corners of your mouth, tilting your head in faux naivety. "what do you mean?"

"(y/n)," he sucked in sharp breath, leaning in until his face was mere centimeters from yours, his eyes wide and threatening. "are you gonna behave?"

your shoulders stiffened up, his eyes glancing at your frozen body before moving back up to your face. you kept up the facade, though, despite the warm hand trailing up your hip and under your top, fingers digging into the bare skin of your waist.

"yuyu, I-"

"what's it gonna take, hm? do you want me to stuff you full of cum—have you leaking through your pretty little panties so the others could see you're mine?" He pressed his body flush against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist and bring you even closer. "is that what you want?"

timidly, you nodded, a breathy moan blowing over yunho's chin when he pressed his hardening cock into your hip.

he scoffed, "look at you, so docile and needy at the mere mention of cock," yunho's voice lowered to a whisper, leaning his head closer to your ear. "is my pretty baby a slut?"

you melted into his touch, burying your face into the crook of his neck and reveling in the hands wandering over your body. "only for you, yuyu."

"mm, that's right," he smiled, his fingers dipping under your waistband. "I guess just I'll have to make sure the others know that too."

(I'm totally sane rn *eye twitch*)

#jeong yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #ateez #yunho fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez yunho #ateez drabbles #yunho drabble

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hoshologies · 10 months

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I am an entire enthusiast for soft!dom yeonjun!

Comfort sex with him?

Would be so nurturing and you'd feel so loved.

omg REAL yeonjun just in general tbh <3 afab reader, smut under the cut, mdni please don't interact !!

soft dom yeonjun who comes home from tour and rather than going to the dorms, your apartment is his first destination upon touching down in seoul. he's only been away for a month, but you were missing him something fierce the second he left your place the night before he flew overseas. facetimes and phone calls and text messages can only do so much.

soft dom yeonjun who finds you sleeping on the floor in your living room, netflix cycling through its idling screen, because you tried to stay up and wait for him. he leaves his suitcase next to the couch, sets his carry-on bag on the cushions, and kneels next to you, shaking you awake and greeting you with a gentle smile. you're ecstatic that he's home, of course, but it's late and you're so tired.

soft dom yeonjun who helps you sit up and then picks you up and carries you to your bedroom where he's spent so many nights before this, his favorite place in the entire world. you're both tired, but now that you've actually felt one another for the first time in a month, you just have to keep the touches going.

soft dom yeonjun who sits you carefully on the bed, kisses you all slow and soft, his lips slotted perfectly against yours. when his tongue swipes at your lip, he meets no resistance; you open yourself to him immediately. he undresses you easily, like it's nothing but muscle memory, remarks on how cute it is that you're wearing one of the many sweaters he's left here.

soft dom yeonjun who gets you to lay back against your pillows once you're completely bare to him and eats you out in the pitch black of your room. he revels in each small sound you make, finds pleasure in the dull sting when you tug at his hair because it's proof that you're together again. when you come with a soft cry of his name, he tells you how good you taste, how badly he missed you while he was gone. he tells you that while he was meant to be an idol, this is where he was meant to be: between your legs making you feel like the deity you are.

soft dom yeonjun who coos at you and asks you why you're crying when he hovers over you, his arms bracketing your head. he brushes your hair out of your eyes and wipes away your tears and tells you that you're so sweet for him, that he spent the entire tour wishing you were with him. tells you that the next time, you will be there, even if he has to fight for it because he can't stand being away from you for that long ever again.

soft dom yeonjun who slides his cock into you and, unable to ditch his teasing streak for just tonight, keeps his pace slow and gentle. he wants to drag this out, wants to watch you fall apart under him slowly, even when all he thought about the entire tour was coming home and driving you into your mattress until you cry. this is much sweeter though, the way you toss and turn your head back against your pillows, eyes screwed shut, jaw slack as you mumble out adulterated versions of his name and whines.

soft dom yeonjun who keeps his pace torturous, tells you to "take it like this or you won't come" when you whine about how you need it faster, harder. he asks "thought you were my good baby. did that change while i was gone? s'that why you're tryin' ta act up?" and he laughs when you shake your head no, peering up at him with glassy eyes and a blissed out expression. "that's what i thought."

soft dom yeonjun who laughs softly when you really start to go dumb and drunk on him, hands uselessly grasping at his shoulders, his biceps, digging into his back. he tells you "don't worry, cutie. i'll take care of you. you wanna come?" and when you nod desperately, he coos and tells you to let go. you do a few moments later and he smiles above you, fucking you through it.

soft dom yeonjun who tells you he just wants you to give him one more as you're pushing at his shoulders without much force behind it at all. "just one more," he promises and then he'll let you go to sleep. he just missed feeling you around him so badly, can't you just give him this one thing? you don't really want him to stop either because you missed the way he fills you up so perfectly, so you babble out his name and a slew of other words and let him keep going.

soft dom yeonjun who praises you the whole time, calling you his perfect baby, his good obedient little sweetheart. your pussy is the best thing he's ever felt, he swears; if he could spend the rest of his life buried in your little cunt, he'd be the happiest man on earth. he whispers all the sweet things as he noses at your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, leaving kisses in his wake, his hips rolling against yours deliciously.

soft dom yeonjun who finally comes after your third orgasm, filling you up in a way that you've missed an embarrassing amount. he drops his forehead to your collarbone, breathing heavy as he comes down from his own high. and when he catches his breath, he kisses you wherever he can reach, as many times as he can, thanking you for being so good and so perfect for him. he tells you he missed you more than anything in the world for the millionth time tonight, but he means it every time. he pulls out of you with a groan and makes quick work of cleaning you both up, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep with you in his arms.

#yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #yeonjun smut #txt smut #kpop smut #hard.thought #txt.thought #yeonjun.thought

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babybluebex · 1 year

Note

Omg the way you write perv Eddie is so HOT PLS 🫣 can you maybe elaborate on how that phone call went afterwards..does Eddie from them on continue to act like readers boyfriend..maybe makes her do him little pervy favours with the excuse of him being her “boyfriend”

yes yes i can totally elaborate on the phone call... 😈 cw innocent!reader, dubcon, male masturbation, daddy kink, some degradation, corruption, names (princess, baby, slut, good girl)

You waited all night for Eddie to call. You eschewed hanging out with your friends so that you didn’t miss Eddie’s call (you didn’t really hate being left out, since your friends liked to make fun of you in a way that sometimes felt a little too mean to be something that friends did), and you sat in the living room and watched television while you waited for him to call.

Except Eddie never did call. You were up until 2am, figuring that maybe he got busy— you knew very little about him, but you figured he probably had things to do that would deter him from calling too soon after school, but, by the time the television channel decided to turn off for the night and turned to static, you knew that that certainly wasn’t what had happened.

Did Eddie ever even intend to call you? Was his promise empty? Did he even want to be your boyfriend? He seemed like he did, with how quickly he agreed to it, but your heart still hurt at the idea that maybe he didn’t like you the way you liked him. Eddie was your first boyfriend, not that that was something you could revel in with your parents; they wouldn’t like the fact that someone like Eddie, rough and uncouth, metal and Satanic, was your boyfriend. If your parents had their way, you would be dating some boy from their country club, with pressed khaki pants and polo shirts and boat shoes, but you had never found that type of boy attractive or even nice. But Eddie was handsome, and he was nice to you; he was already a better boyfriend than any boy your parents wanted you to date.

FInally, at almost 3 in the morning, as you sat in bed and sniffled as you cried, the phone on your bedside table began to ring. Your hand shot out to answer it, hoping that the phone in the kitchen hadn’t woken up your parents, and you were quick to press the plastic receiver to your face. “Hello?” you asked, your voice wobbling.

“Is that my princess?” Eddie’s voice came, light and easy, and you sniffled.

“Hi, Eds,” you mumbled, and you sniffled again. You felt all clogged up from crying, and your sniffle felt empty as you wiped at your face. “H-How are you?”

“I’m fantastic,” Eddie said, and you could almost hear his smile. “My band had a gig tonight and we made a lot of tips, so I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’m glad you had a good, um, gig.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you heard a metallic flick before he spoke again. “Are you crying?” he asked. “You sound upset.”

“Yeah,” you whimpered. “I-I thought you had forgotten to call.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I’d never forget my princess, I just got busy. I’m sorry. You really shouldn’t cry over me, though, I’m not worth it.”

“F’course you are,” you told him earnestly. “You’re my boyfriend, Eds, you are worth it.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “Boyfriend, all because you let me look at your tits… You’ve got good tits, princess, don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.”

“Thank you,” you said, and you couldn’t control the flush that heated up your skin. “I like your eyes.”

“You’re cute,” Eddie told you. “My sweet princess, I wish you were here with me right now.”

“Yeah?” you asked. “Why?”

“‘Cause I’m all alone,” Eddie started. “My blood’s running all hot from the show, and I wish I could fuck you silly.”

You cringed. “I don’t like that word,” you said softly.

“What?” Eddie asked. “Fuck?”

“It’s just a bad word,” you mumbled. “So is tits.”

“Oh, baby, but fuck is my favorite word,” Eddie said. “Do you not curse or anything?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t like the way it sounds.”

“Princess,” Eddie said softly, almost like he was fussing at you. “I’ll try to stop, but I like to curse, so you can’t get too mad at me when I slip up and do it around you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, even if it made your tummy feel weird.

"Hey, baby?" Eddie started. "You wanna help me do something?”

“Yeah!” you said, sitting up in bed and tugging the phone a little closer to you. “What can I do?”

“Tell me what you’re wearing,” Eddie said, and you wrinkled your nose in confusion.

“Why?” you asked.

“I told you, it’s gonna help me,” Eddie said, and you heard some rustling from his side of the phone, almost like he was moving something around. “Don’t leave anything out. Describe it to me.”

“Umm…” you started, and you looked down at yourself. “A sweatshirt. It’s blue, like, um, a dark blue; it’s too big on me, because it’s my dad’s.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed, and he added, “What else, princess?”

“Sweatpants,” you said. “They’re pink.”

“Are you wearing a bra?” Eddie asked, and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No,” you said, and Eddie made a weird noise, almost like he was in pain. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine, baby,” Eddie said. “Just keep going. Are you wearing panties?”

“Duh, Eds,” you giggled, and Eddie made that weird noise again. “They’re white and they’ve got these little pink hearts on them.”

“Do they have a bow on them?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s really small, but it’s there.”

“Cute,” Eddie said, but he sounded strange, a little choked up, like he was trying not to cry. “Anything else?”

“No,” you told him. “Is this helping?”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” Eddie said. On his side of the phone, there were more weird noises, a sort of rhythmic sound that almost could have been a slapping if you thought about it hard enough. “Talk about your panties more.”

“I told you what they look like,” you said. “Umm, what else do you wanna know?”

“Are they tight?” Eddie asked. “Do they hug your pretty butt, or are they more loose?”

“I mean,” you shrugged. “They fit right, so they’re not tight or whatever, but they’re not loose either.”

“Wish I could see…” Eddie mumbled, and he hissed in a tight breath. “God, princess, m’gonna… Tell me about your pussy, please.”

You knew what that was, thanks to your friends, and you pressed your thighs together as your blush settled between your legs. At least, you thought it was your blush; it was hot, just like in your cheeks, but your pussy, as Eddie called it, throbbed a little with the heat. “It feels all tingly,” you mumbled. “Like, it feels funny.”

“Like a good funny?” Eddie asked. “Good tingles?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Does that help you, Eds?”

“Call me Daddy,” Eddie told you in his short, clipped words. “Just for a second, baby, keep talking about the tingles but call me Daddy.”

“Umm, okay,” you said slowly. “It feels kinda warm? Like I’m blushing down there. Is that normal, Daddy?”

“Yes, princess, that’s normal,” Eddie told you. “Fuck, baby, keep going, tell me all about those tingles.”

“I like them,” you said softly.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asked. “I bet they feel good, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Feel really good, Daddy.”

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaimed. “My little slut, my good girl…”

“I’m not a slut, Eddie,” you told him firmly. Your feelings were bruised by the fact that he would even think to call you that, and the tingling of tears hit your nose and eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“M’sorry, princess,” Eddie said. “I couldn’t help it, please don’t be mad at me. And remember what I asked you to call me, just for a second longer, just a little more…” The strange slapping got louder and faster, and your tingles in your belly and thighs only grew at the sound of it.

“What’re you doing, Daddy?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Eddie told you. “How do you know what a slut is?”

“I heard my friends say it,” you mumbled. “They used to call me something like that…”

“What would they call you, baby?” Eddie asked. “Something bad?”

“They would call me a, umm…” you started, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It started with a P.”

“Prude?” Eddie said, and you nodded quickly.

“Yeah!” you said. “But I don’t know what it means.”

“It’s a mean name,” Eddie told you, and you frowned. “It’s one of those mean names that I said they’d call you if they knew that you showed me your tits. Well, maybe not that one, but they were making fun of you.”

“For what?” you asked. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, was I?”

“A prude is someone who doesn’t have sex,” Eddie told you, and you felt your heart sink down into your tummy. “They were making fun of you ‘cause you’re so innocent.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“For what, princess?” Eddie asked. “I like that you’re so innocent, it’s cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” you asked, and Eddie grunted.

“So cute, baby,” he said softly. “Fuck, baby, I…” For a moment, there was a rustling on the phone again, and Eddie made that weird pained noise again before you heard him breathing heavily, like he had just run a mile. “Fuck, baby. Oh my God… I made such a mess, fuck me.”

“Oh no!” you pouted. “What happened?”

“Nothing, baby, don’t worry about it,” Eddie told you. “Thank you, though, I appreciate your help.”

“Of course,” you giggled. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I like the way you say that,” Eddie said softly. “Keep calling me that. Like, how I call you ‘princess’, you can call me ‘Daddy’. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good, good,” Eddie said. “Hey, baby, I’ve gotta go and clean up my mess, but thank you for helping me.”

“Anything for you, Daddy,” you said, and Eddie chuckled.

“I’ll see you at school,” he said, and the line went dead.

#bex answers #anon ask #bex's drabbles #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #tw innocent reader

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vesora · 1 year

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3D Unfavourable Circumstances: Experience Ramble + Reminder

We have all heard that the 4D is the source reality which the 3D then projects.

What happens when undesirable circumstances occur in your reality?

The past few days I have been feeling incredibly shit because of some circumstances and I fell down a spiral of self-loathing, wanting to hide from the world and just leaving life. When something bad happened, I said to myself omg sora youre so unlucky, your life is so shit all the time, no one likes you sora, sora you will die alone and I revelled in that. I immersed myself in that feeling because it was so comfortable to me because pain was what I felt for a long period of time so I actually started chastising me for it. I didn't understand how I manifested these bad things to happen and I felt like a failure in manifestation because why weren't they going away? The thing about me though is I always had both a good view and a bad view of myself so my mind was in a constant fight with each other. With LOA, I now learn that I can choose to give power to only the good side until the bad side dissipates away.

As one of the unfavourable circumstances happened, I let myself feel anxious but in my head I also affirmed against it. "Wow I am so lucky. I am having such a beautiful day. I love life so much." Usually I wouldn't let myself revise because I felt that was important in my development but now I just let go and choose my happiness FIRST. I can learn lessons and still be able to revise any desired events.

when any circumstance happens,

the 3d looks to YOU for validation.

A misconception we have even if we know the law is that the 3d is indicative of our success or not when in reality its only job is to reflect what you believe. When you're in any circumstance, the 3d looks at you and sees your reactions whether you accept it or not and then reacts accordingly. If things don't rectify immediately, do not worry, KEEP PERSISTING. Its only job is to fulfill your beliefs, right or wrong.

What if you react to the 3d?

It's really okay if you do. Your manifestations are not going anywhere. If you can in the moment though, affirm against it. It's not easy, it can be hard even for me but you must only focus on the new story primarily. Dont worry if you think ab the old story don't worry at all, you're still manifesting everything!

When I went through a self loathing spiral, I realised people around me were more prone to picking fights with me because I was unable to let that shit go. I kept focusing on how people are mean to me and how people don't understand me, forgetting I am the cause AND the solution.

I opened a healing meditation and my body was rejecting it at first but I finally let myself relax. Once I got into a calmer state, I started affirming good things and things were back to normal again. Progress might not be linear so do not give up.

Tldr; the 3d looks to you for validation. you are the only influence for your reality, use this power to be happy. it's ok to react to the 3d, remember to revise later. Do something that calms your body. Remember not all thoughts are true, only accept the thoughts you want because you choose which thoughts are true so choose the good ones. Youre not a failure, your body and mind might be going crazy sometimes but that doesn't mean you're a failure. Just affirm against it, whether its at that moment or later.

Don't overthink things. If bad things happen, stop asking yourself why, just focus on the 4D and leave the 3D alone or know that it must change and your pain is temporary sweetheart. It will go away, it must. Life was not made for suffering. Life is supposed to be easy. I love you and hang in there.

#law of assumption #manifestation #loa #neville goddard #law of attraction #affirmations #manifesting #manifest #self concept

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