Tumgik
#✨ • requests
madelynraemunson · 2 months
Note
Married au with Rockstar!Eddie where he's just a man STARVED when he goes home from tour. LIKEEEE, he's just a needy husband in need of reader's loving and he's been lacking just that for months now ☹️☹️☹️ (please the Eddie brainrot is consuming my every being.)
Tumblr media
☆ The Crawl ☆
rockstar!eddie munson x housewife!afab!reader
CW: 18+ obvs, needy, pathetic sub eddie, dom-ish afab reader, dick riding, cum eating, dirty talkin’ nasty goodness, eddie literally crawling towards us 🫠🫠, facial, implied unprotected p in v sex, dribbler!eddie
author's note: this is my first time writing sub!dribbler!eddie hehehe eds is usually a dom!shooter in my universe. i hope you all enjoy!!! 💌
WC: 686 words
“Need you to have your way with me, sweetheart…need you to use me…Can’t take it anymore. Please."
You meet your husband's desperate gaze as he brushes his stiff cock against your thighs, prodding you for the sensual loving you had promised him when he was to come back from tour.
Craving every inch of your touch, the man is at your mercy. And that damn polaroid picture you sent him a few days ago? The damn polaroid of that pretty pussy of yours, your glistening folds spread apart by your perfectly manicured fingers, the white border holding space for the title, “all for you” signed by your rouge red lipstick? Eddie damn near kicked the tour bus driver out his seat to turn the vehicle back around himself.
But, of course, the show had to go on. And as stoked as Eddie was for Corroded Coffin's Rise of Kas Tour, nothing compares to being with you, wrapped up in your intimacy in the comfort of the home you two share.
And now 385 days later, you two are here.
“Need you to ride me dry…” he pleads. “Need both lips on my cock baby, he’s missed you so much…”
“Nuh uh,” you smirk, enjoying yourself just a little. “Not gonna do away with the flatteries just yet.”
“Fucking please, princess,” Eddie begs. “Been blue-balled all tour, you can’t do this to me.”
“Oh but I can.”
Hellbent and greedy, your smitten, pussy starved husband treads hopelessly towards you on all fours as you guide him to the bedroom.
Too many press photos and interviews. Too many groupies lining up outside the tour bus to claim their spots with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. And far too many titties to sign, but Eddie knows he shouldn’t refuse, cuz since he built his brand off being a sex-crazed rockstar, rejecting the ladies would mark the end of his — very successful — career.
Too much of tour life on repeat. And never enough of you. And when he finally gets you, the whining only seems to intensify.
Your twinkling, cum-coated tits bounce in Eddie's face as you frantically taunt your clit with his wide, veiny cock. The sight of you tossing your head back, a mewling mess as he splits you open is enough to tug orgasms out of Eddie’s blissfully aching body. And as you clench around him, screams getting louder by the pump, his spewing tip begins to twitch with every jab into your guts.
“Oh baby…shit, mmfuck, ‘m so fucking sensitive baby, you have no idea.”
Your excitement pools at the base of his naval. Knowing he's not going to last all that long, Eddie whimpers at the sight, his photographic conscious saving the episodic eye-sore for a midday work flashback.
“I love you so much,” he moans. Your orgasm begins to splash around him with every bounce. "Missed your beautiful face. Missed your tight fucking pussy."
“I love you, sweet boy,” you hum. “Your dick makes me feel so good, Eddie, fuck. You’re not going anywhere.”
Eddie releases one strained groan before he loses control. Now completely shifting the roles, Eddie pins you into place as he probes for his finish, thrusting into you as the sweat rushes down his body, his full sack beating at your skin as you ride out your last together.
“Fuck baby, yes baby, yes baby,” he pants. “Gonna be the death of me baby, oh fuck…”
And before he completely empties himself in you, Eddie retreats and finishes on your face. He beams down at you in awe as he glazes the hollows of your cheeks, glosses your lips, and caters to the tip of your cum-quenched tongue. Eddie then swoops down to collect his own eager laps, before thanking you with a kiss.
And, to your surprise, when all is said and done, and you’re all wiped down with a nice warm washcloth from the dryer, your husband books it to his office as if there were something else waiting for him behind that door.
“Eds,” you wonder. “What are you doing?”
“I need to write a song.”
552 notes · View notes
melzula · 2 months
Note
Hi, i love your stuff! Your writing is AMAZING!
Could you do a sokkaxreader fic, where reader gets majorly hurt saving sokkas life-and she almost dies and super angst but turns sweet/fluff?
-✨anon
a/n: ugh i love angst!!! tysm for requesting this <3
warnings: mentions of blood, injury,
summary: a fight gone wrong leads to an important revelation for you and Sokka
Tumblr media
It all had happened so fast.
One minute your group is enjoying a nice breakfast together and the next you’re fighting off Azula and her minions. They’d ambushed you, catching you in a vulnerable position and striking the moment you least expected them to. You had the advantage of numbers against them, but these girls were immensely skilled, so you didn’t have enough of an edge to completely defend yourselves against their attack.
You were assisting Katara in trying to take down Azula when you happened to catch a glance of Sokka from across the way. His back was turned to you and his focus was set on trying to dodge Ty Lee’s chi blocks, so he wasn’t able to detect the blades that were being aimed in his direction. Your eyes widened with panic as you quickly make your way towards him; you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Mai from throwing the knives, but you’d at least be fast enough to get in their path and stop them from hitting your friend.
“Sokka, move!” You urged, shoving him out of the way and effectively knocking over Ty Lee in the process as well. You weren’t given the time to process anything else as you immediately felt the blades make contact with your skin, digging themselves deep into your back. You cried out in agony before immediately collapsing to the ground, all while Sokka watched on in horror.
“Y/n!” He screamed before scrambling to your side. The fabric of your top was beginning to turn a deep red, and you could already begin to feel the effects of blood loss take over. Your vision was hazy and your body felt cold, and yet you were still able to make out the features of his face as he stared down at you with tears in his eyes.
“Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of here!” He insisted, some of his tears landing on your face. You couldn’t find the strength to muster up a response, so instead you simply let your eyes close and allowed the cold to consume you whole.
When you regain consciousness again you find yourself in a tent. Everything hurts and your body feels like it’s on fire, and yet you can’t find the strength to move. Blurry faces hover over you and muffled voices fill your ears, but no matter how hard you try you can’t make sense of any of your surroundings.
“-more water. I need more water!”
“Why isn’t it working?!”
A sharp pulse jolts up your spine and this time you do cry out in pain, effectively startling the figures in the tent.
“Y/n!” A voice cries. Sokka’s voice.
He’s beside you in an instant, kneeling before you and taking your hand tightly in his own. You’ve never seen him like this, so distraught and terrified. You wonder what happened when you passed out.
“Try to stay awake, okay? Please stay awake,” he begs you before looking frantically to his sister. “She doesn’t look any better!”
“Sokka, I’m doing everything I can here!” His sister shouts back, equally distressed as she exerts all of her energy into healing you. Progress is there but it’s slow, and she worries that if she isn’t fast enough the damage may be permanent. Why did the blades have to hit your spine so perfectly?
“Sokka…” you murmur quietly, your eyes beginning to feel heavy yet again.
“No, no, no, y/n, look at me! Don’t go back to sleep!”
But his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you’re swept back under.
You’re not sure how much time has passed since you were last conscious, but the lamp beside you must mean that it’s grown dark outside. You feel warm, the sharp pain is gone, and all that is left behind is a sense of exhaustion from your adrenaline inducing day. You try to sit up only to immediately collapse due to the soreness of your back, but at least you’re able to move now.
“Hey, it’s okay, don’t move,” Sokka insists, alerting you of his presence beside you. You feel his palm carefully lift the back of your head towards the bowl of water he holds in his other hand, allowing you to take greedy gulps until you’re satisfied. “Katara says you shouldn’t try to get up yet or you’ll strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting.”
“What happened? How long have I been asleep?” You ask groggily.
“About twelve hours,” he replies sullenly, and it isn’t until this moment that you’re able to detect the exhaustion present on his features. “Those blades dug right through your skin and into your spine. Katara spent hours healing you; for a minute we thought you might not make it or that maybe you’d live but be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Why did you do it?”
“What?”
“Why did you do it?” Sokka says more firmly this time. “How could you do something so stupid like that?! You could’ve died!”
“It’s not stupid to risk my life for someone I love,” you correct him with a faint smile. Your admission takes him by surprise, his face immediately growing hot and his mind actually at a loss for words for once.
“You… you love me?” He asks gently, almost as if he doesn’t believe you.
“I thought it was obvious, dummy.”
“Not to me!” He cries defensively. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” you admit with a small shrug. “I guess there’s never really been a good time; there’s always another fight to win or people to save. It just didn’t feel right.”
“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs faintly. “But I’m glad you told me now, and I’m glad you’re alive. Because I can’t stand to lose another person that I love.”
You smile tiredly at his words, a new sense of understanding now being shared between you both. You love each other, and neither of you can stand to lose the other. This is real now, and you’re in it for the long haul.
He presses a kiss to your forehead then and urges you to get some more rest, and so you do. And Sokka stays planted right beside you to keep watch over you in your vulnerable state. In that moment he swears he’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.
And that’s a promise he intends to keep for a lifetime.
586 notes · View notes
cowardlykrow · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Despite herself, the Emma is wooed
441 notes · View notes
yourdoorisunlocked · 2 months
Text
ᴏɴʟʏ ʜɪᴍ
𝐀/𝐍: A very late oneshot for a cute request I got, I hope it's worth the wait! I'll try to be more consistent with posting, but life is throwing me actual curveballs rn, so patience is appreciated! And my LORD the wattpad-ass songs I keep picking out for these fics are always sending me- 💀✋ Also, Reader is AFAB in this one (since the wife fantasies this man has about Reader are UNTAMEABLE LMAO)
. . .
➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. ➺ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝖉𝖔 𝖎 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 | 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖐𝖊𝖞𝖘 ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟑,𝟐𝟔𝟐
Tumblr media
“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
. . .
There was something about Alastor that deeply intrigued you.  
He always seemed to carry suave, foreboding darkness dancing upon the edges of unpredictability with a smile as sharp as a razor. 
What others found unnerving, you labeled as charming and ‘eccentric,’ when it came to Alastor. You simply didn’t care about the worse aspects of him, or rather, you accepted them with such ease that it surprised even the most estranged of demons. 
And though he was wary of your intentions, at first, Alastor soon recognized your unusual fascination with him and determination to befriend him as quite flattering, from such an alluring young lady like yourself. So, Alastor decided to humor you and make nice with you, since it was... difficult to have a good friend, especially with his status as an Overlord, to say the least.
Apart from Rosie - who, mind you, was occupied with her Emporium most of the time - he didn't have much else in his afterlife that didn't relate to the hotel. And though this silly endeavor was proving to be quite the source of entertainment, the issue still stood.
Those below Alastor that didn’t turn tail and run at the first sound of radio static would only test his patience, whether that be at the end of Vaggie’s angelic spear or the punchline of a raunchy joke from Angel Dust. 
Suffice it to say, Alastor was grateful for your company, though he’d never admit it, and had grown terribly fond of you. 
Almost attached, one could say. Though one would be skewered and sliced open before they could finish that heinous accusation. 
Sure, Alastor had possibly grown a tender spot for you in his wretched, rotted heart, but who wouldn’t take a bit of an obsession liking to the tangles and locks of your hair that he could only dream of twisting around his red-tipped claws? Or the delicate curl of your lips as you lifted your face into a crooked smile that had burned itself into his memory, making his heart pound erratically within his chest? 
And, ah, there you are, now. Working the coffee machine and putting a polite hand to your mouth as you yawned softly, still in your pajamas with your hair amess and your eyes struggling to stay open as they fluttered, before landing on him. 
“Oh, Alastor! Good morning,” a glimpse of your small, tired smile made his heart jump to his throat as he stepped forward with his hands behind his back. 
“Good morning, my dear! And how was your night?” 
You brightened at the question, your smile growing. Yes. Give him more, give him more of your happiness, your smile-  
“Oh, it was a wonderful dream, Al’! I can’t wait to tell you all about it.” 
He leaned against the counter, preening at how his name rolled so perfectly off your tongue. “By all means, do tell, darling~." 
Alastor was none too ashamed, despite his reputation as a gentleman, that his eyes were solely trained upon your lips the entire time you spoke, his smile growing in size with each glimpse of your tongue that he could manage to catch. 
“Hm... That’s very nice, my dear,” he nodded along absentmindedly as you ranted animatedly, enjoying the brightness behind your eyes while you made yourself breakfast. 
How tempting and sweet was the visage of you, as Alastor’s sweet, doting little wife, making yourselves breakfast and waving him off to his radio tower with your delectable, kissable smile and a cup of black coffee. 
“Oh, and there was a- Al'? Alastor, are you even listening?” 
Alastor smoothly brought himself from his trance “I do believe you were going on about seeing a deer, of some kind? With fur-"
"Softer than anything I've ever felt? I'm surprised you were even able to hear me over your own thinking." You glanced over at him with concern. “You’ve been spacing out like that a lot, recently. Are you alright?” 
“Top of my game, my dear! Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d be worried over me~,” Alastor leaned forward against the counter, laying his chin upon his intertwined claws as he tilted his head up at you, grinning wider at your flustered blush.
“Well-! Of course, I’m worried about you. You’re my friend, after all...” you turned away, missing the way Alastor deflated at that cursed title that he’d seemed to acquire, despite being your closest confidant, your partner-in-crime, your partner, period.
But good things came to those who waited, Alastor supposed.
As the both of you continued to converse, you half-cringing, half-laughing at his onslaught of puns and ‘dad jokes,’ as you jokingly called them, a pair of excited hooves bounded down the hallway, and an excited princess of Hell jumped into the kitchen beside her tired girlfriend, who was still rubbing her drooping eyes. 
“Good morning, guys!” Charlie squealed as she ran across the room, collecting the different points for her plan of Project: Redemption that she had left for you to organize overnight.
“Hey, there,” Vaggie yawned softly as she slumped into the room, and You shook your head with a chuckle. Poor girl must’ve stayed up all night, listening to Charlie’s rants about her plans for the Hazbin Hotel, since its major renovations and redesign, courtesy of Lucifer himself. 
“Well, aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? What’s got you so worked up, now?” You poured Vaggie a cup of coffee and she took it with an appreciative smile. 
“Well...” Charlie looked to Vaggie, who nodded encouragingly. “My dad’s going to visit the hotel again!” She bounced on her heels, oblivious to how Alastor stiffened beside you, and you inwardly groaned.
Here we go again, you sighed tiredly as you prepared for the radio host’s snark towards the King of Hell. 
Those two had been at each other’s necks since Lucifer had offered his help in advertising the hotel, and the mere mention of the Fallen Angel’s name would set Alastor off on an hour-long rant. 
“Is that so?” Static thickened his voice with malice as his ears swerved backwards, pointed and alert as you followed them with a stifled giggle. Alastor never seemed to notice the more adorable aspects of his demonic nature, being a deer demon. Then again, he probably chose to ignore them, trying to preserve his image more than anything. 
You took a slow sip of coffee as you glanced at his backside. I wonder if he has a tail, too. 
“C’mon, Al’. It’s her dad, you can at least be a little supportive.” 
His eyes widened towards you as you shrugged. “Not you, too!”  
“Hmph! I thought you’d have the sense to at least take my side on this one. Have I not been nothing but devoted to you?" Alastor batted his eyelashes at you, pretending to pout as you snorted.
“Well, it’s not like he’s going to move in, right? You still technically have the hotel all to yourself,” you rub his shoulder in an attempt to sooth him, unaware of the surprised glance that Vaggie and Charlie shared. 
“...I suppose you’re right. At least he won't be staying here, in that gaudy apartment of his!" He laughed, referring to the apple tower that Lucifer had built when the hotel was under re-construction.
“Um, ha-ha, about that...” the princess twiddled her fingers with a strained grin, and his smile tensed further. 
“No...” your eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way... She wouldn’t! 
But it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? I mean, the hotel wouldn’t be sporting that super-subtle apple-shaped tower for nothing, right? 
“Ɏꝋᵾ ᵯēⱥꞥ ⱦꝋ ⱦēłł ᵯē, ɏꝋᵾ īꞥꝟīⱦēđ ⱦħⱥⱦ ƀⱥꞩⱦⱥɍđ ꝋꝟēɍ ⱦꝋ ꞨȾȺɎ ĦɆꞦɆ!?-” 
“Alright, alright, take five.” You sighed and looked towards Charlie, who shifted nervously in her spot as Alastor stood off to the side with palpable anger.
“I’m sorry if it’s too soon, and I know you’ve never met my dad before, but I promise, he’s just trying to help the hotel. Just... give him a chance? Please?” 
“It’s fine, I’m fine with it, but I know someone who won’t be,” with a glance towards the self-proclaimed ‘Host of the Hotel,’ you took Charlie’s hands in yours. “I’m glad that you’re reconnecting with your dad, okay? Just... warn us, next time. Specifically, warn him,” you side-eyed where the Radio Demon was scrutinizing the both of you, small voodoo sigils floating around his form with an eerie glow. 
A soft smile graced her features. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I was just so excited! Dad’s really trying, you know? And I promise, he really wants to help the hotel."
You turned towards Alastor. “Now, do you think you can settle down? For Charlie?” You avoided the word ‘behave’ for the sake of not being eviscerated on the spot. 
"Hm... Perhaps, but you must promise to stay by my side the entire time," Alastor gripped your shoulder for emphasis, and you rolled your eyes and reached up his collar.
"Alright then... I guess I can manage that."
His eyes trailed up and down your figure, and all his cultivated anger evaporated as you fixed his bowtie, clearly a bit jittery yourself. 
Lucifer may have had the hotel, hell, he could take Alastor’s place, for all he cared. He didn’t even want the blasted position in the first place, not before Lucifer challenged it. But the King of Hell didn’t - couldn’t - have you, and that alone was enough to pacify Alastor, for now. 
He shook away the confusion that came with the sudden bout of possessiveness from the thought of you so much as sharing an interaction with the Fallen Angel and dismissed you to retreat into the shadows until Lucifer arrived.
It was 1:00 P.M. on the dot, and the doors burst open as shimmering crimson light poured into the room, and the King of Hell, the infamous Fallen Angel himself stood before the newly furnished lobby with his arms widely outstretched for his much taller daughter to embrace her. 
“Charlie!” 
“Hi, Dad!” 
As the two Morningstars greeted each other with a tight hug, you almost gushed at how adorably similar they looked, despite the height difference. 
You also noted how Lucifer immediately narrowed his eyes at Alastor, gloved hands clutching his cane in a strangling grip, as if he were restraining himself from giving the radio host a beatdown with it. 
“Bellhop,” Lucifer spat without missing a beat. 
“Deadbeat,” Alastor shot back with a malicious grin.
You groaned and slapped your forehead. I just talked to him about this!
“And just who might this be?” Lucifer raised a dark eyebrow towards you, and you stepped forward – away from Alastor to his dismay – to properly introduce yourself to Charlie’s father. “A first good impression goes a long way,” as your mother liked to say. 
“Hello,” you smiled and gave Lucifer your name, side-eyeing Alastor as he scoffed heatedly at your misplaced politeness. But, in his defense, it truly was! There was no reason to pay any heed to that short-stacked, duck-loving ȼɍēⱦīꞥ!
“Oh! Yes, this is our newest resident at the hotel! She's been a big help, especially around the kitchen!" Charlie squealed with enthusiasm, practically singing your praises in front of her father and you blushed.
“It's nice to meet you," you held out your hand to shake his, and a soft smirk pulled at Lucifer’s pale features as he bent down at the waist at a perfect angle, laying a chaste, feathery kiss against the back of your hand. “Charmed, I’m sure~.” 
The king’s eyes trailed from up your waist before making heated eye contact with you, rising slowly from his bow.
The screech of a record player from behind made you flinch, but you attempted a clumsy curtsy and ignored Alastor’s rising temper, sigils flying about from the display of unearned affection. “Likewise, Your Majesty.” 
“Oh, no need for such formalities. Just Lucifer is fine, my dear."
“Oh, alright then... Lucifer.” The Fallen Angel’s smirk widened into a toothy smile that contrasted yet was quite comparable to Alastor’s terrifying grimace as he took you by the arm and pulled you along into the freshly revamped hotel lobby. 
"Charlie, you didn’t tell me such a doll was staying here! I would’ve visited sooner, you know,” the king laughed, and you chuckled along awkwardly as you glanced back at your crimson-clad friend, who was seething in his place as he watched you walk beside the king's sauntering pace, pure confidence and smugness radiating from Lucifer as Charlie smiled at you apologetically.
Alastor’s pointed ears were pinned backwards, and the raven tips of his hair sharpened as his lips rose slightly above his gums in an enraged sneer. 
“You know, I remodeled most of this place,” Lucifer grinned up at you while you looked around with appreciative eyes, and Alastor trailed closely behind the both of you, along with Charlie who looked up at him with confusion.  
“Is that so? In that case, I really must thank you for giving the kitchen a well-needed upgrade! It’s so much easier to work my way around it, now.” 
"Oho, of course, my dear! Anything for you~," he grinned devilishly up at you, chuckling at the soft blush that tinged your cheeks as the screech of radio static crackled and electrified the air.
Alastor hated it. Despised it. The way you were smiling at Lucifer like that, like you’d been friends for ages, like he’d been the one to bring you on delightful outings, make you laugh yourself sick over whiskey, pull you into spontaneous dances and be a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it most.
Not like that you'd ever gone to Alastor in such a sorrowful state, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the first that you’d go to for that kind of thing.
Why were you gushing over Lucifer? Weren’t you closer to Alastor? Didn't you like him better?
Oh, now this just won't do...
"Darling. A word?"
You nearly flinched at Alastor's seemingly cheery, yet short and clipped tone, clearly peeved at something, though you were completely clueless. Maybe Lucifer really pissed him off that much and he needed a breather?
Shaking off your nerves, you nodded politely and missed the way Alastor preened with approval, shooting Lucifer a smug glare as he placed his hand upon the small of your back and pushed you along towards a private spot in the middle of the hallway.
Alastor's ear turned in the direction of the two Morningstars as Charlie and Lucifer retreated down the hallway to his room. Once he was sure they were gone, he snatched your wrist and pulled you inside of a hotel room just left of you.
The door shut behind you both, and you tried not to tremble under Alastor's smoldering gaze while you stared up at him, confused by his sudden fury.
"So, care to explain why that pint-sized excuse of a king was cozying up to you?" The words shot like gunfire from his lips, his insults carrying the weight of bullets as Alastor towered over you while clutching his staff.
"I was only being polite..." you wrung your hands sheepishly as Alastor scoffed down at you, his smile becoming more of a curled snarl.
"And besides, why would you care so much about what Lucifer thinks of me? I'm still your friend." When your hand takes his in its warm grip, Alastor has to resist the urge to melt.
Because I don't want to be 'just your friend,' was what Alastor wanted to say. Because I want your beauty and laughter all to myself, I want you to be mine, you need to be mine-
"Because I-" Alastor took pause, as if the mere notion of caring about you more than he should stole the very breath from his lungs.
His claws reached up to caress your cheek, and you shuddered from the tickle of contact, keeping your gaze focused on him. "Because you're the only person who makes me question myself. The only person who I... who I want to call my own." The words tumbled from his lips, hesitant yet ringing pure truth and adoration for you, and Alastor looked away from you for a moment, unable to meet your gaze, impatient for your answer.
Slowly, scared that he'd disappear into the shadows and that glimmer of vulnerability would fade should you move too fast, you leaned forward into Alastor's touch, nuzzling against his palm.
"And... And if I happen to feel the same way? What would you do, then?"
Alastor's eyes widened slightly at the confession, and he took a slow few steps forward to push you up against the wall, his gaze darkened and yearning as his warm breath fanned against your lips.
"I'd tell you to be care of what you wish for, darling~."
Sharp, yellow teeth pricked, and soft, gentle lips sucked and kissed around your collarbones and neck, as Alastor shivered and rumbled ever so softly at the taste of you, the feeling of marking you as his own as you whimpered and shivered beneath him with want.
His shadow flew to the door, turning the lock with a definite click and trapping you inside with the man who'd fantasized of ravaging you since months ago, when a pretty little doe wandered into his office.
You moaned against Alastor, limply allowing one of his hands to hold your wrists above your head as his leg came between yours, and he rose to face you, lines of crimson dripping down the side of his lips.
Alastor's lips hungrily captured yours, and he made no hesitation to slip his long, black tongue beyond your lips and into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans while wetness dripped between your legs, and his own made an obscene stain against Alastor's pants.
You panted as he pulled away, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and kissing just below his jawline as he pressed his throbbing erection against you.
“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 
Alastor's hands ripped at his coat, hastily unbuttoning it from his vest before he pressed against you once more, eager to have you back in his arms.
His eyes darkened down at you as you started pulling at your blouse, desperate to pull him flush against your bare skin as he leaned over you, his slender arms caging you in beneath him.
"Oh, I'm going to devour you, ma chère... Show you just who you belong to..."
He inched closer as the sound of static grew thick in the air, tickling against your arms and making the hairs on the back of your neck rise as pure, carnal desire engulfed the both of you.
"P-Please..."
The doorknob rattled.
Knock, knock.
"Hey, uh- Is everything okay in there?" Charlie's concerned voice sounded through the door, and the both of you instantly froze, Alastor's hands still hovering over the belt buckle of his pants.
"Fuck," an irritated, animalistic growl rumbled from him, and he stood up to his full height as he glanced apologetically down at you, tilting your chin up to face him.
"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this, darling."
Alastor planted a long, heated kiss against your lips, his tongue savoring every taste of you that he could manage before he brushed out his hair and pulled his coat from the ground and back onto his shoulders.
"Not to worry..." Alastor buttoned up your blouse, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a few more moments than normally and turned on his heel and plastered his trademark smile back onto his face.
"We'll continue our little show, later."
. . .
Tumblr media
𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Bet ya'll didn't expect that, huh? Caught in 4k smh
Ok, so there is a LOT going on rn and I'm trying my darndest to keep up with a consistent schedule (I say after going radio silent - pun intended - for a goddamn week) BUT I SWEAR THINGS ARE GOING UNDER WAY, chapter one of 'What A Dish, What A Doll' is getting a rewrite, I'm trying to finish more requests and headcanons, and the VOX FIC NEEDS TO BE UPDATED-
it's just a lot lmao, but y'all's patience is super appreciated!!
. . .
➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo
➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!
346 notes · View notes
t4yce · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
NYMPHIA WIND •  drag race 16.04 night of 1000 chers
442 notes · View notes
ahhrenata · 11 months
Note
I just imagined a scene where Steve has like his little unhinged boyfriend moment and just licks across Eddie's cheek. Eddie's giggling and Robin is watching this á la 'live robin reaction'.
We always write or draw Eddie doing this to Steve but if we really think about it. Steve is touch-starved af - Steve was so tactile with Nancy. And now he's with someone who allows and enjoys this kind of playful side to be unleashed. He's finally allowed to be his childish playful self that years of monster-hunting, protecting and neglectful parenting (my hc at least) almost destroyed.
Just felt like sharing this with you - Idk why tho 😅😅 (Ok. secretly I'm hoping you get inspired. But it's absolutely valid if you don't.)
I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT. I agree!!! Steve would totally have some unhinged moments 😂
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
emry-stars-art · 5 months
Note
may i pleaaaaaaase kindly suggest mistletoe pose 3 with royal andrew and neil :D (either way around)
You ABSOLUTELY may 🥰
Tumblr media
Requests are open until the end of Dec ‘23 💕
388 notes · View notes
satellite-starss · 2 months
Note
Can we get some passive nightmare with flowers on his head just being happy ? I need the fluff pleas 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
two normal brothers and their tree hanging out- so glad nothing bad ever happens too any of them 😎
271 notes · View notes
Note
Onesies, eh?
Well, I've got a idea :)
Hazel in a penguin onesie.
Hazel <333🐧🐧🐧
Tumblr media
She is so adorable ahhh-
378 notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 9 months
Text
Bouncy
Tumblr media
@tinybagz requested:
Not sure if your still doing Miguel O’Hara requests BUT IF YOU ARE- the spider gang (Miguel, Reader, Hobie, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr ) in one car driving to the crime because they need to not have attention drawn to them and since there isn’t enough room in the car reader Sits on Miguel’s lap, Hobie driving over tons of pot holes and due to the car bumping so much it results to the reader bouncing a lot in Miguel’s lap 😜
From all the dimensions you had to set up, was one where drones, heavily armored drones seemed to be a normal sort of thing. All of them created by The Green Goblin. In this universe, he had turned the worst and to y'all dismay and dread, the anomaly, A mechanized Vulture had snuck in and now was taking a hold of the drones.
"We need to move, now."
"How on earth we are supposed to fit in this?!"
"Remind me again why you are here?"
Miguel sighed, exasperated, already pinching his nose, feeling the headache intensify.
"It's the least attention drawing thing I could find. Ya in or not?" Hobie grumbled as he pursed his lips.
"We're exposing ourselves too much in here, the drones could appear at any moment." Gwen spoke and Miles shrugged.
A mess.
"Alright! Damn. Let's just calm down." your voice strong, and everyone listened.
"We gotta catch Vulture. This dimension have both land and floating cars, Vulture doesn't look at old tech. So we are safe here. Pav, You go on the window."
"What no, I want the window" Gwen mumbled and got inside first on the backseat, Miles followed.
Teenagers.
Your mind mumbled.
"The tension is rising! Can't be a third wheel, so Imma go on the front with Hobie."
Pavitr sing sung as he slammed the car's door shut and fastened his seat belt, leaving you with a new dilemma.
"Fuck." You sighed as Hobie fastened his seat belt and honked.
"Si si, ya te escuché." (Yeah, yeah, heard you already)
Miguel got in first, making Miles to recoil a bit closer to Gwen.
"¿Qué esperas? Muévete!" (Whatcha waiting for? Move it!)
Car was so tiny it barely held his frame, a large hand pulling you in. You were sat in his lap.
Fuck. The heat irradiating from his body was the first thing you could feel, along his muscular shaped body. You felt like a rag doll on a shelf. As Hobie sped up, you could help but collide on Miguel's chest.
"Do you even know to ride this thing?!" Miguel yelled as Hobie went through a dent. It happened in slow time, as the wheel tried to connect with the floor, you were hoisted up by gravity, and for a second you felt Miguel's groin making contact with yours, His frame almost enveloping you completely.
He had taken the first impact for you. And when gravity lulled everyone down, you couldn't help but gasp as your rear sat completely ontop of him.
"Hobie watch the other cars!"
If you were trying to be subtle, you were failing miserably as Hobie was driving counterclockwise through the cars, earning an array of aggressive honks. You lurched left, right, bounced way more than you all thought.
You didn't know if to feel nauseous or warm from all the friction the dents had caused between you and Miguel. One of his hands had gone around your waist to hold you still.
"Don't." He hissed at your ear, despite the noise around you, you could hear him perfectly. There was a certain breathlessness into it. Almost, annoyed and husky-like.
Another bounce, your cheeks grew warmer.
"TRUCK AHEAD!" Pavitr yelled and Hobie swished the car to the right. Your whole rear did too ontop of Miguel. His grip tightening, and you jumped when his talons would sink into your flesh. He was grounding himself to avoid grunting too loud.
Miles and Gwen weren't uncomfortable with the forced proximity Hobie had gotten you all in. Pavitr was rambling like a little kid, Hobie too focused on the  road, avoiding upcoming cars to actually care about what you and Miguel seemed to be doing.
The trip would end in the outskirts of a warehouse, You were the first one in getting down.
"Are we using the car to get back?
" Miles hands stopped working upon the news and just resigned into a softer expression on his face.
"Pav, I think its time for me to-"
"No. You're staying in the back."
His words finals, and your lips went shut and ears grew pink.
579 notes · View notes
screwpinecaprice · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tuesday: Shopping
They got the same dress!
Personal connverse week for an anonymous Ko-fi tipper! (That's a simple-looking dress but I like it very much. :3 )
Prompts, ideas, and polaroid border effect also by anon.
663 notes · View notes
madelynraemunson · 1 month
Note
i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣
IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️
Tumblr media
(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)
CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI
eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...
Tumblr media
"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."
incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader
WC: 1.3k words | part two here
Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.
They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.
Your dream boy.
"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."
It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.
“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”
“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.
And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.
It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.
This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.
After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.
Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.
“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”
Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.
Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)
You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.
What the fuck?
"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.
“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”
Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.
“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”
Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.
“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.
“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”
The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.
“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”
“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”
The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.
The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.
“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”
“Harmony?”
“Yeah.”
“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.
Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.
“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”
“And her.”
“Yeah and I’d do her.”
"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.
That’s enough.
You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.
My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around
I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.
Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.
Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.
You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.
I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose
You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.
And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.
You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,
Fuck Eddie Munson.
I have anger issues
You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.
317 notes · View notes
nevadancitizen · 4 months
Note
do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3
it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3
-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK
synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.
word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)
characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)
notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)
Tumblr media
-> GHOST:
Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?
And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.
The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.
Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.
You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale. 
Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.
His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who. 
The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”
Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”
Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”
“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”
They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”
You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”
They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.
Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth. 
“Not your best effort,” Gaz says. 
“I know,” you say. 
“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.
You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.” 
You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”
Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature). 
“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says. 
You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”
“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his. 
“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s. 
“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”
You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”
Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”
“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.
Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”
“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”
Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”
“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”
Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”
“The what?”
“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”
“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”
“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”
You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”
“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…” 
Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that. 
Tumblr media
-> KöNIG: 
König nearly always hates going undercover. 
More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.
On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not. 
You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.
You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles. 
“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear. 
He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen. 
“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”
“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”
“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”
Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”
You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are. 
As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”
“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says. 
“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.
“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”
Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”
“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”
Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.
“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.
You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor. 
You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony. 
People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless. 
“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath. 
König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”
You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”
“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”
“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”
“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”
“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”
“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”
König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”
You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”
“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”
“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.
The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light. 
You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”
“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”
You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”
“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”
You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”
“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”
A beat of silence.
“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”
211 notes · View notes
sluttywoozi · 2 years
Note
hello, I came running once I saw you were taking requests 😌 I just feel like joshua would be so extremely Down Bad for his partner. like even when they're YEARS into like, marriage - if they're going to a party and his partner is dressed up? man's weak in the knees istg 🥺
I love your style of writing so I would honestly be v v happy if you wrote this 😊❤️
Tumblr media
Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~1.3k
Warnings: alcohol mention, horny and in love husband!joshua; swearing; kissing; dirty thoughts; spanking mention
Reader Notes: no specified pronouns or gendered terms; wears a dress, makeup, heels, lingerie; has breasts and a vagina
Playlist: Late To The Party by Kacey Musgraves and LOVE U by Monsta X
Tumblr media
“Babe, are you almost ready?” Joshua hears you call from the bedroom. He’s still messing with his hair and you’ve been struggling to pick out your shoes for the last half hour, and he just knows there’s no way you’re getting to the party on time. 
“Yeah, honey, I just can’t get this one piece to lay right,” Joshua says, frustration evident in his voice. Your slippers slap on the hardwood as you make your way to the bathroom, coming to stand in front of him and lifting your hand to fix his hair. He stays still, just admiring you. 
You have the cutest look of concentration on your face, your fingers gentle and careful not to pull.
You’re in full makeup, your hair done up flawlessly, and your silk dressing robe is tied loosely, draping over your breasts in a way that has Joshua nearly drooling. Your lip is trapped between your teeth and he wants to bite it with his, but there’s no time. 
Fuck it, he thinks, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you closer, his other hand catching your hip to press you into his body. Dipping his head to kiss along your neck, he whispers into your skin, “What if we just … didn't go?”
You sigh in exasperation but wind your arms around his neck and sink one hand into the back of his hair, “Josh, we have to go. We skipped the last one, remember?”
Joshua groans into your collarbone, letting his body sag against you, “I just don’t feel like sharing you with anyone else tonight.”
Predictably, you melt into him, your nails scratching against his scalp and sending a shiver down his spine. He starts swaying you, pulling out all the tricks he knows to make you want to skip the party. 
“Babe, it’s Seungcheol’s birthday. He‘ll already be sulking about us being late. If we miss it altogether, he’ll skip our anniversary dinner out of spite and you know it.”
Joshua sighs, reluctantly releasing you because he does know Seungcheol, and he knows that the man is very specific about his expectations for birthday celebrations. 
He shifts his eyes to the ceiling, trying to find the will to leave the house, and reminds himself that Seungcheol is one of his best friends. He can beg you to stay in with him almost any other night, tonight is important and Joshua knows you both should be there. 
So, with a nod, he turns back to the mirror to finish his hair and you exit the bathroom to make a footwear decision. He can hear you talking to yourself, smiles at his own reflection in pure fondness for you. He’s always loved your little habits, they just make him feel… safe and happy. 
When Joshua married you, everyone joked that the small things he loves about you would become small things he hates about you, but he knows that could never happen. He fell in love with you over the little things, the way you think out loud, the way you fold your laundry, the way you hand out random compliments, the way you smile at everyone on the street, the way you ask how someone is and actually care about the answer.
He loves your absentminded singing, the fingers you trail over his back whenever you pass him, the little sticky note reminders he finds everywhere, the love notes you pack into his lunch box. 
Joshua loves everything about you, and somehow he knows he always will. 
And when he says everything, he means everything.
Even after (almost) five years of marriage, Joshua is still obsessed with you.
You’re the sexiest person he’s ever seen, and he honestly can’t believe he got you to tie yourself to him forever. Whenever he sees his ring on your finger, or watches you sign a check with your first name and his last, his heart flutters and heat floods his stomach, and he has to think unpleasant thoughts to calm himself down. 
It usually works, but it’s not right now, definitely doesn’t when you meander into the bathroom to pick out your earrings, clothed in your favorite dress. And fuck if it isn’t Joshua’s favorite dress, too. 
How could it not be, with the way it drapes over your body, the way the color stands out against your skin, and the smile you always wear with it?
The memories attached only make him love it more; he’s taken it off of you hundreds of times, in a dozen different ways, and he’s almost desperate to strip you of it now. 
The sultry look in your eyes tells Joshua you know this, and you know it’ll be the only thing on his mind the whole night.
As he’s laughing with his friends, he’ll be thinking about sliding the dress up your body slowly, mapping your curves with his hands. As he’s mixing drinks for the table, he’ll be imagining what your face would look like if he tore it off of you. As he’s toasting Seungcheol and trying to give a heartfelt speech, he’ll be picturing the lingerie he knows you’re wearing.
You have a lot of options, a whole drawer full, and Joshua will have no choice but to go through every possibility in his mind, just because he’s a thorough person. 
He already knows he’s fucked, knows he’ll be fighting for his life tonight, trying to keep from getting hard in front of literally everyone he knows, and your smirk says you know this as well.
It is so evil, so diabolical of you, to do this to him when you know he barely has the will to go to the party at all. 
But it’s also really sexy, so fucking hot that you tease him like this, that you know what works him up, what sends all the blood in his body down to his cock.
That’s what’s happening now as he watches you with hooded eyes, following your form as you lean in closer to the mirror and brace your hand on the vanity to carefully apply your lip gloss. 
Fuck, you could have done this literally anywhere else. You don’t even need a mirror, he knows you can swipe it on with your eyes closed.
You came in here just to torture him. 
Joshua wonders what your plan is, if you’re trying to get him to rip the dress off of you and fuck you right now on the tile, or if you want him to pull you into the bathroom at Seungcheol’s and bend you over the vanity, or if you’re hoping he’ll punish you after the party, make the skin of your perfect ass swell in the shape of his hands.
He’s honestly willing to do all three, and he knows the sight of you in this dress will be enough to get him hard time and time (and time) again tonight.
Joshua startles at the closing of a door, looking around the bathroom to find it empty.
Fuck, when did you even leave? Was he that distracted?
He can hear your heels clicking, your pace quick as you gather up everything you need to bring to the party. Joshua knows he should probably help you, but as it is, he’s not sure he can move.
His knees feel a bit weak after contemplating your possible plans, and his dick is throbbing in his slacks, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper. You call out, asking if he’s ready to leave yet, and Joshua mentally curses you, curses your nefarious heart and delicious body, then feels awful immediately, apologizing in his mind and willing his legs to move and his dick to soften.
Joshua’s almost successful, the print of his hard cock barely noticeable, his legs back online, when you add on, “I’ll suck your dick in the car if we leave in the next five minutes and you tell Cheol that we’ll be late.”
He runs.
Tumblr media
Part 2
My Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
t4yce · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SAPPHIRA CRISTAL •  drag race 16.04 night of 1000 chers ↳ for anon
364 notes · View notes
calibabii21 · 3 months
Note
Ok requests open?
Stoner Hyuck and his thick and pretty nerdy girlfriend fucking like crazy. Like how would he do it?? I wanna knowww
Do what you want with this Z🫶🏿😩
pairing: stoner!hyuck x nerdy gf!reader
genre: smut.
warning(s): just..smut.
a/n: not me deadass writing this at 7:30 this morningggg. hope I met your expectations fren🤭
Tumblr media
you never thought he had it in him to be so ruthless. the ever so easygoing attitude? out the window. any chance of you taking the lead? gone.
and all because you made one bad joke.
"Care to repeat that for me?" but the intentional thrust that follows only allows a pleading moan to escape you. he lets out a bored sigh as he takes another drag, "You're letting me down sweetheart."
suddenly getting a spark of determination, you lift yourself onto your hands and begin fucking back against him. "Ahh haha, there it is." you feel pride surge through you at his tone as you squeeze around him.
you feel him caressing your flesh before he lands a harsh smack on your ass, head tilting back to release more smoke. "Fuck look at these thighs, pretty girl." your moans have yet to cease as you look back at him, glasses hanging off the edge of your nose and slightly fogged.
through the sound of skin clapping with your natural wet sounds you hear him groan, "God, just seeing the ripple of your ass is enough to make me cum." you feel a little arrogance "looks like I was right that you-" but your words are muffled the second he grabs you by the back of the neck and shoves your face into the pillow. "Princess, you're gonna blow my high if you keep saying stupid shit."
any comeback you had flitters from your brain as your eyes roll back, "oh, f-fuck." his smugness is felt as your voice raises in volume once his lips meet your ear, "t-too deep." which only feeds his ego as his hips begin moving in a 'J' motion, mercilessly slapping into yours.
"you gonna cum baby??" your lack of response annoys him and he changes his hold to the front of your neck from behind- making your back arch more as you look into his eyes from below. "I said, are you gonna cum for me, Gorgeous?"
without the ability to nod, you force yourself to have a thought and respond, "y-yes p-please." your pleading is too delicious to give you what you want so he slows his strokes down, ruining your orgasm at the very brink, but still prolonging the pleasure.
"nooo no-no, fuck you." but he only laughs at your crying, pressing down on your back to anchor both him and you for what's to come. "Your wish is my command."
Tumblr media
231 notes · View notes