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#and thinking oh what if it'll happen then... bitch no
rainbluealoekitten · 1 year
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i am trying so hard to not get back into "liking" my old crush bc it was really just an unhealthy attempt at coping with my life and like. i keep thinking about them and i don't even know him that much
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elytrafemme · 10 months
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every single fictional character i like should split and have mood swings like me. "ohhhhh but it's not canotical" "ohh they have good control over their emotions and stable views on the world" i don't fucking care. i see cq in his fake desert i see klavier's control dialogue i see dahlia and her serial murders and komaeda and the gun literally fuck with me right now. we need to stop being cowards about our fictional character headcanons i think everyone should kill people always because i can't
#neg#omg am i having an episode right now is this episode coded is that what we're doing oh my God should we tell all your friends#should we call the president oh my God mare is having an episode right now guys don't freak but it's finally happening aaaahhh#we've been waiting forever but our queen's finally back she's having an episode oh my God we stan like crazy oh my God i'm calling everyone#can we have a cake at the episode tell me we're having cake at the episode i'm buying a cake it's official girls oh my God AAAH#she's so crazy LOVEEE her. oh my God!!!#anyway i think my blond bitch rockstar fave should get to kill the titular character!#sorry i hate the fucking name censoring in tags i'm trying to ween off of it cause it's like not accessible tee bee aych#but like i need to speak my truth so we're doing epithets#he should literally get to kill him and rip his carpet up WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABT IT#they all make him cry or whatever this isn't the right blog for this but i've got images okay#enough crying enough consolation hugging where's my apology only for it to not be accepted and things to be fucking over#where's MY catharsis you know. this barbie needs catharsis!#i'm super light headed i should super stop posting but like who am i going to text in these conditions#the answer is nobody nobody wants to text my phone like they can blow it up it's fine w/e#i'd make instagram stories but it'll be like a whole thing and they'll report me again for mental illness#i'm going to stop apologizing for having breakdowns publicly actually. if you were like this you would too.#actually maybe you wouldn't because you'd be soooo well adjusted well i'm a weak bitch like actually#and my bones are fucking breaking right now so i'm gonna tell everyone about it <3#i licherally don't want to damage public property now and by that i mean my room LMAOOOO#this is nawt public property but the paints so nice
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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best friends dad part two
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words: 500
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, extreme age gap, aged up!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, kinda caught?
part one / part two / part three
“my wife is in the other room.” rafe grunts, his hands planted firmly on your waist, feeling how small you are under his large palms.
“you dragged me in here.” you remind rafe, poking him in the chest, propped up on the bathroom counter, legs spread wide as you balance right on the edge of the marble.
“fuck, this is so fucking wrong.” rafe groans, immediately regretting cursing in front of you, as if his naughty words are somehow worse than his current actions.
“just put it in.” you moan quietly, his cock pushing through your folds, head of his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust.
“shouldn't i get a condom?” rafe is trying everything to not fuck you. every excuse he can think of, because he knows once he gets inside of you, there's no turning back. it's all been grinding and sucking and fingering until now, until you came over to tan outside by the pool with his own daughter, in the skimpiest bikini you own.
“no.” you shake your head. “im not your fucking wife you're worried about not knocking up again. get inside me. now.”
rafe holds back for another minute, but you're too warm, too wet for him to resist. he mumbles another curse before lining up with your entrance, sinking inside in one smooth motion.
“oh, yes daddy.” you moan out. “been thinking about how your cock would feel inside me for years.”
“this is so wrong.” rafe shakes his head, despite pushing his hips forward, as if he can get deeper inside your cunt.
“stop whining like a little bitch.” you roll your eyes. “fuck me.”
rafe can't help but listen to your command, sliding until his cock is almost all the way out before thrusting inside, building up a quick pace, the squelching wet sound every time he pushes inside your pussy like music to his ears.
“oh, fuck, yes daddy.” you moan, too loud as rafes eyes widen, leaning in to capture your mouth in a kiss.
“shh.” he warns, mumbling the shush against your lips. “can't let anyone hear.”
“mmm, can't let anyone find out you're cheating on your wife with your daughters best friend?” rafes hips move faster at your teasing, the exact effect your were hoping your words would have. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he continues to kiss you, allowing one hand to scratch at the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair with a smattering of gray throughout.
“god, you're so fucking tight.” rafe moans.
“that's what happens when you fuck young pussy, not old stretched out from kids.” you smirk. you've never liked rafes wife, the way she seemingly does whatever she pleases. you wonder briefly if there was once genuine love there.
“fuck, i love my wife. i love my wife. i love my wife.” rafe chants, as if the words can stop the fact that he's loving how good it feels to be cheating on her.
you let out a chuckle as rafes thrusts become more erratic, giggling when his eyes widen as he hears footsteps down the hallway, unable to stop his motions, knowing if someone listens too closely it'll be obvious what is happening behind the closed door.
the footsteps stop outside of the bathroom, a knock startling both of you.
“y/n, you in there?” it's your best friend, the daughter of the man currently about to cum inside of you.
“yes!” you answer, at the exact same time that rafe calls out “no!”
read part three here
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet
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saturnicos · 3 months
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Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.
Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.
Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)
HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack
With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust
Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?
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. Charlie
— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.
She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.
— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.
She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.
She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.
— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.
. Lucifer
He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.
The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.
— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.
Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.
— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?
You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...
When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.
He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.
. Adam
He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.
At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.
— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.
However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.
The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.
— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.
With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.
He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.
— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.
. Angel Dust
He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.
Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.
— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.
When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.
— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.
You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.
— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.
. Alastor
He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.
He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.
After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.
He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.
You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.
Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.
By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.
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I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//
Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)
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i-cant-sing · 4 months
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Hmmm I could get tired over any fandom but.... batfam???? Yall would never see me tired of talking about them.
Like think just how absolutely batshit crazy they'd go if reader fractures her limb or something. Maybe reader like slips off the stairs or falls from a swing or something, and the batfam- they have to watch it all happen in slow motion, and nothing- there's absolutely nothing they can do to help you. It's scarring for Dick to watch the color drain from your face as you drip to the ground. It's scarring for Jason to hear the nasty crack as your bone bends in an ugly handle. It's scarring for Tim to hear you scream in pain. It's scarring for Damian to see the blood pour out of your body. And it's oh so heart wrenching for Bruce to hear you cry into his chest as he carries you to Alfred to get your cast done.... how hopeless he felt, unable to soothe your pain.
But things only seem to go even more downhill from there. As you recover, the family has silently decided to double down on their paranoia and be even more coddling and protective of you. You wanna walk down the stairs? Nope, here comes big bro Jason to hold your hand- or better yet, carry you around in his arms. Why risk you even tripping over air?
Wanna get something from the top shelf? Stand back, dont need the shelf or something heavy falling over your head and cracking your skull open. Let Dick pull the cookie jar down for you- but why are you even eating cookies this late???? You need to get some healthy nutrients in you, lest you should have weak frail bones. Heres your broccoli.
Wanna play video games or go on socials? Well, no more! Dont need you getting influenced by the violent storylines and bad news from around the world- Tim wouldnt your mental health to be affected. If you really want, you can use his laptop... under his supervision.
What the fuck do you think youre doing staying up past your bedtime? What do you mean youre too old to have a bedtime???? Get your ass back in bed before Damian drags you back like a gremlin and REMINDS you of the bedtime he has set for YOU, because he doesnt need you becoming an insomniac and turning insane. He will not be the one to bust you out of Arkham asylum (he absolutely would, but hed be complaining all the way) just because you decided you didnt need your 10 hours of sleep!
Wanna go to your therapist? Well, you cant cause he suddenly moved far away and every other therapist in gotham is a maniac in disguise. Bruce doesnt get why you cant just talk to him about your feelings??? Dont you trust him? Your dear father, the very man whod hold you in his arms and shield you from the scary lightening when you were young? The very man who you would ramble on to about everything and anything, including tattling on Damian locking you in his room and throwing a tantrum when Jason took you away when you were all kids? You can tell him anything sweetie, even if you wanna bitch about the batfam... it'll hurt a bit, but hed be okay (absolutely has big sad eyes when you tell him how everyones just too suffocating for you and you wanna leave them)
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sednas · 1 year
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HOT MESS - satoru, fushiguro
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✧・゚ or when a one night stand feels too good and he just can't control himself
FEATURING: toji fushiguro x fem!reader/gojo satoru x fem!reader
TRIGGER WARNING: [n]sfw, men so horny for you they come too fast, degradation, oral (f), “daddy” used once
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TOJI
he can't believe it. watching in disbelief your belly stained with his seed, he runs one of his hand through his hair. he was so caught off guard that he pulled out, which he usually never does.
you're still laying on the bed, breathless, your mind a little hazy and you don't even seem to notice how much toji looks troubled.
"shit..." he mumbles and you let out a yelp when you feel his big hands grabbing your hips to lift you up.
he pushes you higher on the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows while he makes his way down to your body.
before you can even realize what's happening his lips are wrapped around your clit, giving it hard sucks. your thighs tighten around his head, your back arches and you let out a sweet moan, your hands softly caressing his hair.
"fuckin' bitch making me cum so fucking fast..." toji muttered against your pussy, his green eyes observing your reactions to the way he was eating you.
your cunt is spasming under the assaults of his tongue while your moans keep getting louder and toji can't resist but slip two of his fingers inside your wet hole, hissing between his teeth when he feels how tight you are, his cock getting hard again at the fresh memory of it.
"I'm gonna need more of this sweet pussy. understand baby? you're gonna give me your number after that mmh?" he stops to fully look at you, smiling when he feels your hands pulling out on his hair desperately.
"y-yes... anything you want daddy..."
his lips grow into a sinful smile just before he swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves again.
"good girl." he smoothly says, his fingers starting to move inside you.
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GOJO
"fuck fuck baby..." he can't even say something coherent at this point, his hands still tightly gripping your arms to hold you in place.
he's almost making more noise than you, letting out overstimulated whines when he's only been inside you for two minutes.
he tries not to look down where you are both connected, he knows it'll be the death of him if he does.
"ah~ sa-satoru!" you mewl as you look back at him, mouth open with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with lust.
gojo makes a muffled moan, fucking you harder.
"fuck, don't... look at me like that or I'm gonna..."
he can't finish his sentence, abruptly pulling out of you and cumming all over your back. you fall on the mattress, your legs still trembling, feeling satoru's hot breath hitting your skin behind you. you hear him stutter curses and praises and after a few seconds he starts kissing your neck.
"are you done?..." you ask, shivering under his kisses.
you hear him let out a dangerous chuckle, his teeth gently nipping at your soft skin.
"I'm far from being done with you baby."
his hand snakes in your hair, forcing you to lift your head while his other hand slowly massages your folds.
"you made me cum so fucking hard, I must return the favor, don't you think?" he whispers right against your ear, his slender fingers tracing circles oh so slowly around your clit.
you eagerly nod your head, spreading your legs further apart so he can touch you more.
"you look way too good covered in my cum to let you go now..." he teases, completely hypnotized by the way his white seed is adorning your naked back.
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jjk masterlist
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strangersteddierthings · 11 months
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What's Eight Plus Seven?
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five
Alright y'all. We had the hurt, let's get some comfort started.
-
Steve leans against his door, expecting Eddie to follow him upstairs to continue their argument because Eddie's never been one to back down from an argument as far as Steve can tell, so he's using his weight to keep the door shut. It takes about five minutes of just leaning against the door before he hears a few light knocks on the door. He pretends he didn't hear them and soon starts to hear Eddie monologue-ing on the other side. He thinks he hears a 'sorry' and an 'I fucked up' but he doesn't really tune in until Eddie says something about cancelling Hellfire.
Spinning quickly, he yanks the door open and says, "You better not fucking cancel!"
"What? Don't you, like, want me out of your house?" Eddie looks startled and sounds confused.
"What I want is for the kids to get to play Dungeons and Dorks for an afternoon, just getting to be kids and fight against monsters that can't actually kill them," Steve says as he goes to put his hands on his hips (a move that Robin calls his Bitch Stance) but realizes he can't while still holding a book, so instead he folds his arms across his chest, cradling the book to his body.
He waits for Eddie to call him out for saying dorks instead of dragons, but Eddie just blinks at him, quiet for a moment before he says, "Oh. Uh, okay then. I'll just, uhh, I'll be back closer to noon, then. For the game."
"Don't you have prep to do?" Steve knows he's trying to pick a fight now but he's angry, and sad, and hurt underneath it all. Also, he doesn't understand the change in Eddie suddenly. Ten-ish minutes ago Eddie had shouted back I wasn’t exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even! Where is that anger now?
"No. Not, uh, not really," Eddie says, avoiding meeting Steve's gaze, face turning a very light pink. "I was- I mean, yes, there was prep, but I did a majority of that already and what's left will take maybe three minutes so..."
Steve's confused now, still trying to cling to his anger. "But you called and asked if it was okay to come early specifically for that reason."
Eddie doesn't respond right away. He turns around to walk to the wall opposite Steve's door and thump his forehead against it. Steve is perplexed by the behavior (but he's been perplexed by Eddie since finding him at Reefer Rick's) so he just watches in silence as Eddie heaves a sigh and turns around to slump against the wall, facing Steve once again. He runs a hand through his hair, then drags that hand back forward and down his face. "Yeah. I did do that."
"So, what, you lied? Why?"
"I just wanted to hang out," Eddie whispers, like it almost hurts him to say out loud, which is such a weird thing to hear because it makes Eddie seem small in a way Steve's never seen him. Even during spring break Eddie was never small or quiet; his fear manifested as shouting, for fuck's sake. It chips away at the last of Steve's anger. He's long past the days of kicking someone when they're down.
"You... wanted to hang out," Steve repeats before heaving a sigh of his own, long-suffering man that he is. Maybe it is time to bury the hatchet and actual deal with this. If nothing else, it'll result in Steve being less defensive around Eddie when everyone hangs out, like for movie night or BBQs. Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to so he says, "Listen, I think we've got some shit to hash out, or whatever, so that should probably be done or, like, things are going to be weird when we all hang out, but I can't do that right now, man. So, stay or go, just make that game happen at noon. I'm going to stay up here."
Eddie nods, weirdly sullen and quiet again, as he says, "Yeah. Umm, maybe after the game? If you're feeling up to it."
"Sure. After."
Eddie raps his knuckles against the wall behind him twice before pushing off and heading back towards the stairs. He pauses to look over his shoulder and say, "If you wanna watch, or listen in, or something, I don't think anyone will mind." And then he's heading down the stairs.
Retreating back to his room, Steve tosses the book onto his bed before flopping face first next to it. He groans into his comforter before reaching for the book. He props himself up on his elbows and stares down at the cover before opening it to see Christopher's handwriting on the inside cover.
It's been years since he thought about Christopher and even longer since he's laid eyes on the books. He was so sure his mom had just gotten rid of them. All this time, they'd been right where he left them, shoved just far enough back to be out of sight on the shelf. His last link to Christopher.
That's not true, Steve scolds himself. His cousins, Amber and Robert, are still alive and in Washington. His grandparents still live on that farm in Michigan. Steve just hasn't seen them since the funeral.
He hadn't gone back to the farm the summer after freshman year, or any year since. His parents thought he was old enough to stay home for a whole month in the summer alone now, instead of paying to ship him off to his grandparents. Steve's old enough now to know that was why he'd spent a month every year out on the farm; so his parents could go off on longer work trips. Once they'd decided Steve was old enough to stay alone for the summer, that quickly reached other seasons and by the time Steve was a junior, the were gone more than they were home.
He doesn't even remember when he last spoke to them in person. He thinks the last phone call was right after Starcourt. It was just to make sure Steve got to job hunting, since his place of employment had burned down and the bills wouldn't pay themselves. Which is true. He doesn't have to pay rent, but all the utilities are in his name now.
Jesus, he doesn't want to be thinking about them.
He goes back to the book, flipping through the pages absently. Halfway through the book he finds a couple folded pieces of paper tucked close to the spine. He doesn't have to open them to know exactly what they are.
It's the character sheets he'd made.
He closes the book back atop them and rolls over to face his ceiling. He wants to call Robin, but the phones are downstairs and he doesn't want to go down there just yet. He also kinda wants to cry. To get rid of all these emotions about Christopher, and Freshman First Day, and Eddie.
Fucking Eddie. Who haunts Steve's thoughts more than he'd like because despite the grudge Steve has been holding, Eddie has been fun to be around and so good with the kids, especially Dustin. Fuck, after having watched Dustin break down when they thought he was dead- but he'd had a pulse. It was weak but it was there.
After Eddie'd been cleared of the charges and the months rolled on into summer, they'd spent lots of time together as a group. Steve will admit he tried to avoid Eddie as best he could (he knows he's petty, okay) but could still see how he blended smoothly into their group.
If this Eddie had been the one he met on Freshman First Day, instead of the dick that mocked him, they might very well be friends now.
That's the crux of it all, Steve thinks. That he wouldn't mind being friends with Eddie if not for that bottled up grudge he'd been holding onto. He can't bring himself to let it go and Steve's not even sure why. Thoughts and feelings aren't something Steve processes quickly, and it usually helps to talk it out with Robin. She lets him stumble through his thoughts, and doesn't mock him for messing up, or mixing up, words.
Goddammit, if he's really going to try talking this out with Eddie, he's going to have be open and honest and maybe a little vulnerable and he doesn't know if he can do that.
But he'll have to. For better or worse, he can't just keep Eddie at arms length. They need to either come to the conclusion that they can be friends, or not, and then go from there. (Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to.)
In the end, Steve's not sure how long he just stares up at the ceiling but a sudden shout breaks him from his trance. It sounded like Dustin. Hellfire must have started.
Steve leaves his room to go lean against the half wall of the hallway, so he could look down to the dining table where everyone has gathered to play. No one notices him, so Steve sinks to the floor and turns, so he can lean against the wall, closes his eyes, and listens in.
The room below is filled with noise. Shouts of excitement, and groans of pain, and sighs of relief. Dustin yells at his dice when it rolls a Nat 1. Mike curses up a storm over a barely missed perception check that makes the party fall into a surprise round. He hears Lucas whoop happily and then what sounds like him taking several victory laps around the table.
He used to be an imaginative kid, able to easily conjure castle, and knights, and dragons in his mind's eye. Listening to Eddie describe a new location, or NPC, or monster makes it easy to bring that part of himself back. Eddie is descriptive and uses so many voices that Steve would be embarrassed to even attempt. But because Eddie is being descriptive, so is everyone else at the table. Erica has adopted an accent of some sort for her character. Dustin and Will go into great detail describing what they want their character to do. The older members of Hellfire do the same, and one of them is using an Irish accent that if he used while talking to Steve, he'd would think it was his first language.
Steve's not sure how long he sat there, long enough that they've taken a snack break and are back at it again, before he decides he might as well watch, too. He gets up and goes downstairs. There's a pause at the table when he wonders in and plops down on the couch. He makes eye contact with Eddie and offers a small half smile. Eddie grins back, and starts back into the game, pulling everyone's focus.
Watching is interesting. He gets to see the Party jab at each other, or lean over and whisper about something. It's nice, to see them being kids. Having fun.
They end around five and Steve is surprised at how quickly five hours had passed.
"So, Steve, how was watching your first DnD game?" Dustin asks, pausing on his way to the door to do so.
Steve considers teasing him, but he goes for honesty instead. "Pretty interesting. It might not be my last time observing. I gotta see you get killed sometime, right?"
"Rude, Steve. Rude," Dustin is grinning though.
"Tell your mom hi for me, and let me know when she's making pork chops again. I'd like to crash that dinner."
Dustin rolls his eyes and shakes his head but he hugs Steve before leaving. Between all the older Hellfire members, they all have rides home that aren't Steve or Eddie.
Speaking of the latter, he's slowly packing things away at the table. Clearly killing time so it won't look like he's intentionally staying after everyone's gone.
Soon, the house is empty again.
"So, I'm not sure... how to start this conversation," Eddie admits to the silence. He's still at the table, standing behind where he was previously sitting, fiddling with a die. "But, I'm sorry. For that day. You were right, you know? When you said I was lashing out at you first."
"Thanks. For the apology," Steve stands from the couch and moves to the table, toying with the tablecloth instead of looking at Eddie. "I, uhh, I'm not sure where to go from here, either? I spent such a long time angry at you. For pointing out all the things I'm bad at in front of everyone there. For making me feel like an idiot."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Now Steve looks up at Eddie. "You say that, but like, why? Are you sorry because what you did was shitty, or because you want to be my friend now?"
Eddie blinks, apparently thrown by Steve's question.
"Because, like, you were pretty dismissive of Lucas before Spring Break and he helped save your life. So, it's like, are you okay with being shitty if the people you hurt aren't people you like? 'Cause I used to be that way, and I'm not going to be friends with someone who is."
"Yeah, no, you're right," Eddie nods. "For all that I scream about conformity, and how stupid it is, I've been rather quick to dismiss everyone outside my own... group. I held rather close to that nerds verses jocks crap for too long. Lucas is a jock, but he's also a nerd, and so very loyal to his friends. And you- you're really fucking awesome."
"I am," Steve interrupts with a cheeky grin.
"Ass. But yeah, you're pretty awesome, and I've been feeling all fucked up today because, we could have been friends, couldn't we? In high school. If I'd just let you take the damn flier and kept my mouth shut."
"Hey, that's not all on you," Steve says. "I would have still joined the basketball team, and the swim team. And, like, I was so desperate for any shred of attention from my parents that I would never have picked Hellfire over sports meetups. I could have joined and still ended up a bully by sophomore year."
"Well, I didn't help-"
"I made those choices, Eddie. And it doesn't matter because it's in the past. So, like, we can just move forward. Start over, or whatever."
Eddie looks him up and down before giving one sharp nod, then breaking out into a wide grin, sticking his hand out for a handshake. "Hi. Name's Eddie Munson."
Steve laughs, reaching out to shake Eddie's hand. "Steve Harrington."
"Great, pleasure to meet you. Do you wanna hang out? We can play 20 questions. Get to know each other."
"Sure," Steve chuckles, extracting his hand from Eddie's. "Let me order some pizza first."
First time hanging out with Eddie alone. Guess they'll find out if they can be friends after all.
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wynnyfryd · 7 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 22
part 1 | part 21 | ao3
“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.
He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.
Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!
“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”
“Must we?”
“Yes, we must.”
She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”
“He said he ran out of laundry.”
“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”
Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”
“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”
“Because you did something to spook him!”
“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.
“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”
She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”
“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”
“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”
He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.
“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”
She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”
“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”
“Tell me I’m right.”
“Uh, no.”
“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”
“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”
“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.
Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”
“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."
"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"
"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."
Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.
"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."
"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."
"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"
"Yeah, that's a no."
“It’ll be fun!"
It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."
He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.
"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."
"So ask a friend!"
"I am, dipshit!"
Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.
She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"
"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."
"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.
"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."
She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."
part 23
tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy
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a-spes · 7 months
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T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.
Words count - 5,2k.
Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.
Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?
Moodboard here.
N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)
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It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.
Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room. 
From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.
It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath. 
The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long. 
It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place. 
Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.
You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of. 
The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture. 
Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.
Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart. 
She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life. 
So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs. 
As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.
Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.
As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.
It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes. 
At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much. 
"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey." 
One. 
Two. 
Three. 
You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet. 
You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open. 
"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears. 
You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness. 
You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.
And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.  
The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.
A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again. 
You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.
The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want. 
Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs. 
Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom. 
"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek. 
For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable. 
"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.
On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.
You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.
"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded. 
She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.
"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."
Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?
She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She  slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful. 
She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.
"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words. 
She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.
"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.
"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin.  “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"
The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman. 
"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.
She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to. 
When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.
When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.
But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.
"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.
It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory. 
You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.
Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.
"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.
I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears. 
It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it. 
"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say. 
And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.
You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure. 
She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything. 
As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.
Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that." 
You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.
"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.
She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't. 
"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.
She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away. 
"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.
Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.
You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach. 
The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.
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jymwahuwu · 9 months
Note
I know omegaverse is not your thing, but I feel this urge to share this with you because the yandere plot material.
If you haven't known already, there's this thing called "bitching" in omegaverse, where an alpha can turn other alpha or beta into omega through the insemination of their semen. Because of this I've always been thinking of fem!reader who are alpha or beta, living their best life since they are not in the bottom of the food chain (lmao), then suddenly the universe decided to put her and Jing Yuan/Blade (or other characters, you name it) on the same plate together.
If it's Jing Yuan, it can be that the reader got chosen as his assistant, since you're an alpha/beta, and you won't get horny because of JY's alpha's pheromones.
But Jing Yuan being Jing Yuan, he takes interest in you. It's rare for a woman to become an alpha, and as an alpha himself, he can't help but feel intrigued. It's like God just sent him a challenge to conquer, and who is he to deny such an interesting thing being offered to him?.
He starts slow, gaining your trust. Then he asked you if he can fuck you since he's been curious to fuck an alpha woman. You are hesitant at first, but thinking it's just one time sex, you agreed.
Oh but oh, Jing Yuan knows. He's willing to take the long route to make you completely fall into his hands, to finally rip you off of what is your pride, your alpha status. Aside from that, he also has been very curious about the process of turning alpha/beta into omega--and you just happen to be the perfect fit for him.
He only asks for a sex once every few months, so you will be brushed off of your worries about turning into an omega, it's just... Jing Yuan had a trick up his sleeve for this. Every time it's about time he fucks you, he will drink a potion/medicine to make his seed even more potent.
So, even though the frequency of sex is only once in a few months, the potency of his seed is also 10x times stronger so it'll most likely turn you into omega. At this point, Jing Yuan is so ready to make you his little housewife, and after maybe a few months or even years, he asked, yes, asked, not propose bcs this is JY--to make you his wifey. At first you are happy, because holy shit both of you are going to be an alpha couple who reign Luofu! (In your dreams).
But after marriage, Jing Yuan forced you to stop working. He wants you to stay at home and be a good lil' housewife, much to your disappointment. He also now likes to whisper nasty things to your ears, like how much he can't wait to breed you, to fill your womb with his baby seeds and make you pregnant. You only giggle and smack him playfully whenever he does that, but you can't help but shake the hint of worry that you have when you see his serious smile.
Then after maybe a few weeks, you started feeling strange, it's as if your body was undergoing some changes and you are not sure why. You tried to ask Jing Yuan, but he only smiled and said it's just your hormones acting up. Maybe you feel a bit uneasy because it's almost mating time for alphas. You should not be worried, he'll help you when he gets back from work.
That's what you hope, at least. But suddenly your body went into heat during the evening, and you can feel your whole body burning. It's uncomfortable, and when you suddenly ravage through Jing Yuan's dirty clothes, your brain somehow gets the gist of what happened.
When Jing Yuan's back, you attacked him, both physically and with questions. Yet before you can mutter a single word your nose inhales his scent and your brain goes into overdrive. You tremble on his hold, trying to suppress a moan from escaping from your mouth. You can feel your legs tremble, did you just cum from the mere scent of him alone?.
Through haze and your hair falling out on your face, you can make out a sickening smile on his handsome face.
Jing Yuan will make sure you can't escape him, no matter what you do. Every night, when you are asleep he will whisper into your ears, saying how sweet you are as his wife and how you should just stay with him forever...and to never run away from him. He diligently does it every night without fail, to make sure it was being planted into your subconsciousness.
Oh and how happy he was when he finally got to mark your neck, claiming you as his mate. And to finally knot your pussy, making sure you are pregnant with his babies.
Jing Yuan always wanted to have a sweet and submissive wife, yet also not so dumb it's making him mald. But in this kind of world, it's hard to look for such criteria, having most women being an omega, most of them that he saw are either made ready to be a wife with no other skill, or very aggressive, and Jing Yuan doesn't want an aggressive wifey :((
So when you finally appear in his life, it's like he almost hit a jackpot. He mourns the fact that you are an alpha, it's only when he remembers the method of bitching Jing Yuan decided to roll his luck again.
For an alpha to be turned into an Omega, the recipient alpha needs to be willing to be filled with the other alpha. So Jing Yuan needs to make sure you are willing to accept him.
So when you finally turned into an omega, Jing Yuan couldn't help his excitement. He lets out all of the nasty words he could think of, telling you that you become omega because you are extremely willing to receive his seed (totally not also because he drinks those potent medicine to help), and that you want this, you wanted to be his housewife.
"see darling?, You don't even fight back against me. Your body wants it, no matter how hard your brain thinks otherwise. Don't worry, I'll take care of you...forever".
Sorry if this is very messy lol. It's 4 am and I just realized I write this for like an hour?? Wtf I should get some sleep instead of writing horny ass fanfiction on someone's askbox.
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CW: yandere, ABO, alpha! reader forced to change to omega, gaslight, non-con
I couldn't help but giggle while reading 🤭💕 receiving these ABO stories that aren't cliche…thank you for sharing this!! even though I'm not really interested in ABO I don't mind if you put such hot fic in my askbox lol
The proud reader being disempowered is one of my favorite tropes. My submissive heart is trembling🥴 Okay, let me add a little drama.
This space society is just unfair. You heard a Beta say this once. As one of the top people in this society, you don't know what this sentence means, or you know it, but you just don't have the opportunity to understand it personally. Omegas can't even do much work because it's like carrying their scent with them like entering a pack of wolves. Betas can't resist orders, and people often think of them as "imperfect choices." As an Alpha, you are charming, confident, powerful and often successful. Just like this time, you can get Jing Yuan's assistant position without much effort.
Um, people in the Seat of Divine Foresight love to flirt and chat with you. They quietly put small gifts on your desk to express their adoration and admiration, hoping to win the favor of a successful person like you. Even after you agreed to have sex with the General every few months, you didn't stop them. You just don't have the consciousness to be his future wife, right? Those people realized that your current "mate" was General Jing Yuan, and gave up the idea of ​​being with you. And you are wondering why the Beta/Omega you dated last time is avoiding your eyes now.
For the potion part 😚🤭👉👈 Jing Yuan consulted experts who prepared the medicine and asked them to increase the effect to 10 times and minimize unnecessary side effects. This means that one time has the effect of ten times. Those first few times, you acted just as dominant as he did, even asking to penetrate him instead of him penetrating you. He won't allow this. As a small concession, he allows you to command him, a few times. This medicine is really effective. At a later stage, you don't even realize that you don't want to order him anymore, you just spread your legs and enjoy being pushed and picked up, moaning in pleasure. Even your inner being is prepared for this change.
After you fell into a deep sleep, Jing Yuan spread your thighs to check your progress. Your private parts swelled up, and the part representing Alpha became miniscule. And eventually, this should disappear. He wants to know if you notice this when you look in the mirror, or if you feel too ashamed to tell anyone. With a mysterious smile, Jing Yuan used his index finger to push the leaked seed in again. This is preparation for you to be a submissive and pregnant wife.
After agreeing to get married, you still dreamed of managing Luofu with Jing Yuan. A couple of Alphas >-<! You know that you gradually fell in love with the general while getting along. Is there any ideal life than ruling and managing this Xianzhou ship with the one you love? This is what people expect from you. Rule and manage, give orders. Although you felt weird inside, like you no longer wanted this… However, after the wedding, Jing Yuan immediately relieved you of all your duties and told you to stay at home and be a housewife. You're disappointed, but there's nothing you can do.
You were so desperate on the day of your complete transformation - desperately looking for traces of Jing Yuan and caressing yourself, digging out his clothes and grabbing them to calm your mind a little. You whimpered like a sweet puppy clinging to your husband's clothes, tying all the weird clues together and realizing what he had been planning all along.
The sweet pheromones flowed out without opening the door. Jing Yuan shuddered when he smelled this, and then he smiled so much that his eyes narrowed. It worked. As soon as the door opened, you rushed over to scratch his chest, but as weakly as a kitten. You wanted to accuse and question him, but instead you snuggled against his chest. An orgasm, an unexpected and violent release. Your eyes held shock and confusion, and tears fell.
Jing Yuan has been looking forward to mating with the Omega version of you, but wanted to tease you. He took away all your clothes, folded them, stored them deep in the closet, and locked them. Place you on a blanket with his pheromones. He had heard that such preparation could give Omegas a sense of security like a nest and increase their chances of conception. He asked you to wrap yourself in a blanket and wait, and he had to leave for a while to review documents/take a shower.
You rub the blanket and caress yourself uncontrollably, squirting more than once, and at the same time you feel a sense of relief… being pregnant and taking care of a baby…? After that, Jing Yuan takes you to the bed to mate and fill you with his seed. Your butt is pressed on the bed and shaken. The thick penis is heated and buried deep inside you, stimulating your sweet spot. That creamy pump is full inside you and knotting.
And gaslight💀💔🤚Yes, Jing Yuan has been adding subconscious hints to your heart - that is, you want to be an Omega, get pregnant and be his wife. How could your body change like this if you didn't want it to? Orgasm and moan like this? The only obviously reasonable explanation is that you want this.
Are those memories of you leading and commanding, being loved and adored still fresh in your mind?
Looking in the mirror now, you are moaning, orgasming and brainless, ready to conceive. It's just a reminder that you didn't know who you really were in the past.
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Hiya, as you have requests open could you do some headcannons (sfw and NSFW perhaps?) for Charlie, Velvette & Verosika dating a male! reader who's on the insecure/shy side?
"Good Boy" ; Charlie Morningstar, Velvette, Verosika Mayday
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SFW:
She's the absolute sweetest, my god. Every day, praising everything she sees about you, letting you know how much she loves you, giving you soft hugs and shoulder rubs...
Since you're on the shyer side, she'd always make sure to ask if you're comfortable coming to social events with her.
If so, she'll bring you along and not force you to interact, but introduce you as her boyfriend if you're comfortable with it. But if not? No problem! She can either go by herself or you two can have a night in.
She's also constantly encouraging you to put yourself out there, because if people don't love you for who you are the way she does, good! They didn't deserve you, anyways.
"It'll be okay, S/O! You're so amazing, they're bound to love you! And hey, what's the worst that could happen?"
She totally understands if you're not comfortable doing all that, though. She'll give you her jacket and calmly comfort you.
Plus, her cuddles are really amazing. She'll hold you on her chest and kiss your forehead and all over your face, reminding you just how much she loves you.
And she loves those smaller intimate gestures. Comparing hand sizes, neck kisses and nuzzles, and the like.
NSFW:
Soft dom. Straight up.
Lots of praise, kisses, promises and declarations of love as she guides you in and out of her cunt, usually riding you so you don't have to put too much effort into it to be pleased.
Charlie is most definitely a service top, she gets off on your pleasure.
Seriously, blowjobs, handjobs, just about anything, she gets pleasure out of it when she makes you feel good.
Definitely a praiser in bed.
"You're doing so well, S/O, good boy! I'm so proud of you..."
Honestly, the easiest way to turn her on as her partner is to call her "Charlotte". She doesn't like it when people who aren't close to her do it, but when you do it? It's like flipping a switch in her head.
Her tongue is extendable and prehensile. She can make it just about as long as she wants and curl around just about anything, including your dick. And she won't have any second thoughts, either.
Sometimes, if you piss her off beforehand, she'll be a tad more rough, and the demon form may come to play. The horns, the tail, the sharper fangs, the inverted eye colors with slit pupils, the whole shebang.
But afterwards, it's right back to soft and loving, gentle Charlie.
She's a pro at aftercare, luckily, and she makes sure your every need and want is met. :)
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SFW:
She's not the nicest to just about anyone, and you're no exception. Sure, she's nicer by comparison, but she can hardly be considered polite.
Still, though, she has those rare moments where she'll actually show you that she loves and appreciates you, as selfish and rude as she is.
For example, a quick peck on the cheek after she's done something particularly obnoxious, or ranting to you before a big show she's nervous about.
"That fuckin' bitch can't even be bothered to fix that rat's nest on her head for the big event, and now I have to pull the rest of the girls together!"
Of course, she wouldn't tell you if she didn't trust you and love you. She wouldn't think it's worth it to bare the way she feels so openly.
She'd probably try to convince you to model for her to boost your confidence. If you did, she'd be considerably nicer to you than all her other models, for obvious reasons.
After all, she isn't dating any of her other models. They aren't any of her concern.
If you refuse, she'll be pouty for a bit, but eventually begrudgingly accept it, although she'll let you know that she's still not happy about it.
NSFW:
Mean dom, oh my god. Like, full on bordering on dominatrix, punishment and all.
Obviously, of course there's a safeword and consent is always implied. She's a lot of things, but she's all for consent.
That doesn't mean you don't have to be a bit of a masochist to fuck her, though. She'll make you please her first, fingering her, eating her out, or something along those lines, chasing her own pleasure before she thinks of pleasing you in return. And even then, it all depends on how she thinks you did.
"Mm~... Fuck, you love this, don't you~? Dirty little slut~."
Yeah, she has a thing for dirty talk, degradation (giving), and she probably has a mild Mommy, Mistress, or pet play kink, honestly. But the odds are she will never bottom. For you or for anyone else.
I could also weirdly see her being into choking or some other kink that gives her complete power over you.
But of course, at the end of the day, she still loves you very much, and she'll never not let you cum.
Even though she teases and edges for up to hours before she actually gives in and gives you what you so desperately need...
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SFW:
Honestly, Verosika is a really sweet girlfriend, although it does take her a little while to actually start showing you that side of herself.
She's had bad relationships in the past, namely with Blitzø, so she's still recovering from that and learning not to put all her eggs in one basket. Or more accurately, not to put all her faith in a brand new relationship.
But honestly, once she's over that? You're basically fully integrated into her life. Her posse loves you, you're basically one of them.
And thanks to dating Verosika, Vortex is also usually helping to protect you. What kind of bodyguard would he be if he couldn't protect his boss' boyfriend, too? Especially when he's never seen her so happy before.
"Heya, gang. This is S/O, my boyfriend~. Isn't he hot~?"
Of course, the group immediately accepts you, absolutely adoring the fact that you make Verosika so happy and feel so loved and cherished.
NSFW:
More of a switch, to be honest? Like, even as she maintains her usual persona, she's encouraging you to thrust into her, to fuck her hard, etc.
Like, she isn't outright domming you, but she also isn't subbing, she's kind of somewhere right in the middle of that, trying to encourage you.
She's a succubus, so her method of trying to give you confidence is to make you feel sexually desired, which is why she never holds back any noises you make her make at all. She wants you to know you're the one doing that to her.
"A-Ahn~... Oh, S/O... Right there, baby boy~... Yes, fuck, ngh... So good~..."
After all, if you can successfully please not just any succubus, but the Verosika Mayday, herself? That's got to do something for your self-esteem, right?
Besides, she's a succubus. She's really good at pleasuring people, and like Charlie, her tongue is extendable and prehensile, thanks to the whole 'succubus' thing.
She's someone who doesn't mind being heard even from outside the bedroom. After all, why should she be ashamed that her boyfriend makes her feel so wonderful, and that she does the same for him in return? Nothing shameful about it.
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pyro-les · 2 months
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It's a blessing and it's a curse part 2
Regina George x reader
Slowly walking towards Cady's locker Janis and Damian pester Cady about Regina and the plastics. "So,what have you found out? Any secrets we can use to destroy Regina?" Janis asks excitedly honestly concerning Cady.
"I don't understand why you hate her so much, she honestly seems kind of sweet" Cady responds.
"Ha yeah sure Regina George the sweetest girl in Northshore. She's well known for her outstanding generosity and kindness." Janis says sarcastically.
"Yeah like Regina would ever be sweet, I don't even think she knows what that means" Damian adds on.
"You guys are way too harsh, I think she might just be misunderstood. Have you ever actually talked to her?" Cady asks as she stops next to her locker.
Damian shakes his head before saying "Yeah Janis and her used to-".
"That's not important! What's important is that Regina is a life ruiner," Janis cuts him off harshly.
"Okayyyy" Cady draws out before looking around seeing Regina walk past with the other plastics and then a bit behind them is Y/N with her headphones in. "Hey, Y/N!" Cady calls her over.
Looking around slowly Y/N sees Cady realising it was her that called her she walked towards them after sparing a brief glance back at Regina who briefly locked eyes with her in a silent conversation before turning back to Karen as if nothing happened. "Hi." Y/N said as she approached Cady.
"Hey girl" Damian greets shortly followed by Janis saying "I didn't know you two were friends."
A brief moment of silence as a small look of fear flashed across Cady's face rembering she wasn't supposed to mention that Y/N was with Regina. Luckily Y/N improvised and said "Oh yeah we actually live pretty close to each other. I met Cady when she first moved in.".
"Yeah!" Cady said a bit too enthusiastically before adding on " my mum made us introduce ourselves to some of pur neighbours when we first moved in." Janis slowly narrowed her eyes before shrugging seemingly believing the lie.
"Anyway what are you guys talking about?" Y/N asked as Cady started to shift through her locker.
"Just how annoying Regina is." Janis states casually causing Y/N to frown a bit.
"Oh stop looking like that we all know you're like in love with her but you really need to realise how much of a bitch she is." Janis says seeing Y/N's reaction.
"Hey I never said that!" Y/N tries to complain.
"Honey, you're always looking at her with a stupid lovestruck look on you're face." Damian says patting her on the shoulder.
Sighing Y/N just says "I literally have one class with you guys how do you even know that?".
"Because its painfully obvious." Janis responds. "I'm sorry but you do know that it'll never happen right?".
"Exactly, Janis is right. It will never happen but its okay because you wouldn't want to date someone as awful as Regina. You deserve way better." Damian agrees.
Cady continues to quietly sort out the books in the locker not really knowing whether Y/N would want her in the conversation or not.
Hearing her phone buzz Y/N looks down to it quickly before saying "I'm really sorry guys I gotta go rehearse. See you later." She then hurried off responding to Regina's message asking if Cady had said anything to Janis and Damian. While walking away she heard Damian telling Cady that she should wear the heels in her locker to impress Aaron.
~~~~
Walking into the cafeteria Cady sees the plastics at their usual table, Gretchen and Karen were happily discussing aomething with Regina chipping in every now and then but mainly looking down at her phone. "How are you guys?" Cady asks cheerily once she gets to the table.
"I'm bored. Let's do something fun! Oh we could go get icecream!" Karen says excitedly causing the other girls to chuckle a bit.
"Karen, we're at school." Gretchen says making Karen frown a bit. "It's ok though, you and me can go get icecream afterwards.".
"What about you Regina?" Cady asks.
"Hmm? Oh yeah I'm pretty good." Regina says after a moment
"That's just because you had a free period to do whatever you want in. Unlike us who had maths." Gretchen says with a sigh.
"Ooo lucky. What did you do?" Cady asks excitedly.
"I went to the theatre." Regina replies simply.
Cady smiles and says "Oh I didn't know you liked theatre."
"She doesn't that much. She does like a certain actor though." Gretchen says with a light smirk.
"Oooo who is it? Can I guess?" Karen asks excitedly who along with Cady looks over to Regina waiting for an answer.
Sighing Regina says "really guys?" Cady looks confused for a moment before looking around then leaning In whispering "wait do you mean Y/N?".
"Bingo." Regina says as Karen gasps seemingly shocked by the information she already knew.
"Cool. I saw her earlier." Cady responds with a small smile.
"I know" Regina replies.
After a small moment of thought Cady says "How? We're in school."
"I went to the theatre." Regina responds like it's obvious.
"Oh. Was no one else there?" Cady asks.
"Nope. No one goes to the theatre unless they're scheduled to be there." Regina says before adding on "exept Y/N of course. She likes to go there to rehearse."
"And you like to watch her rehearse." Gretchen adds on cheekily making Karen and Cady laugh Regina however just glares at Gretchen who shrugs and says "I'm not wrong." Cady finds it ironic how anyone else in the school would be running away scared from her but Gretchen and Karen just joke around with Regina.
"Hey" everyone turns to look at Aaron who had just walked up to the table everyone looks annoyed except cady who smiles brightly at him making Regina look at her in confusion.
"What are you doing here?" Regina asks harshly.
"I came here to ask if Cady took any notes in class earlier." At the mention of her name Cady smiles brightly before nodding and starting to rummage through her bag to grab her notebook. "So Regina, are you free tonight?" Aaron asks after taking a photo of Cady's notes.
"No, I'm not and even if I were I wouldn't spend my night with you." Regina responds with a sigh earning some ooos from Aaron's friends who had been listening in.
Not knowing what to say to Regina Aaron just turns to Cady and says "thanks for the notes." Before walking off leaving a dejected Cady with the plastics.
"You like him." Regina says plainly as Gretchen and Karen nod.
"What no I don't!" She says defensively earning a look of disappointment from Regina. "Okay yeah fine, I do." Cady says quietly.
"There you go. There's no need to lie about it." Regina says with a smile.
"But he clearly likes you! I mean he just asked you out." Cady says solemnly.
"Who doesn't? He's just a dumb boy, he doesn't really like me he just thinks I'm hot." Regina says clearly fed up. "If you actually talk to him he'll love you for you're personality I stead of just liking me for ny looks."
Cady shrugs so Regina continues "come on Cady,just talk to him. It would be good for both of us,you would get to date him and I'd have him off my back."
"I'll think about it."
****
A/N: here it finally is, sorry for the super long wait I've been really busy lately. I know there's not really any Regina and R interaction this chapter but I promise it's coming I'm just trying to build the story for now because I have some really cool ideas for later.
Also I'm gunna be honest don't know how to link the previous chapter with words instead of the full link but if you go onto the it's a blessing and it's a curse tag it should come up:)
Anyway hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in the next part:)
Taglist: @l1lass
194 notes · View notes
prettyboypistol · 1 year
Text
Stardew Valley Bachelors x Male Reader Relationship Headcanons
Harvey
Super Shy Gay(TM)
I dont CARE if you're married he ASKS TO HOLD YOUR HAND
Kiss him. Kiss him in public. Do it.
If you call him gay he'll get flustered
Can't cook for shit but tries his best. yes, the smoke alarms are going off because he tried to cook bacon.
Harvey is one of those anxious boyfriends that asks you to text him that you made it to a place safe.
"Drive safe, I love you"/"Dear it's been 10 minutes since the ETA are you alright?" hella ass
probably forgets your anniversary ONCE, but then never again when you tell him you were upset.
Elliot
you know the men that forget your anniversary? NOT ANYMORE
you randomly come home to roses all the time.
"Oh hello my love i am writing a book about homosexual pirates wear this to immerse me please"
probably hides gifts around the house with little notes
bad at confrontation but will eventually talk to you about things that bother him like a week of letting it fester.
"BABY CAN WE PLEASE GO TO THE RENAISSANCE FAIR"
Dramatic ass bitch on GOD
probably likes to be choked
Shane
Calls you gay slurs affectionately and expects the same energy back at him.
He can cook like, 2 meal.
Remembers every little anniversary but is embarrassed about it. He remembers the first time you kissed, the first time you said i love you, etc.
Biggest cuddlebug known to man
Feels bad that you're the main breadwinner so he begs to take care of the chickens on your farm.
You WILL find Shane asleep with a baby chick in his arms sometimes i'm sorry homie
Confrontational af, if something happens that he isn't okay with he'll bring it up as soon as situationally possible in a kind way.
Sam
writes you love songs
he's a bit of a messy partner, but if you mention the mess it'll be spotless for like, 3 weeks.
if you get in a fight he'll brood outside with his guitar for a little, but will always get into bed with you at the end of the day happily.
loves surprises and surprising
he's all great when it's casual flirting, but as soon as you two start seriously flirting he gets all flustered.
bi-curious, you're probably the first man he's dated but not the first man he's kissed.
loves to binge TV shows with you
Sebastian
pan ICON
he thinks you're too cool for him, but he is grateful that you enthusiastically love him
calls you a hillbilly if you call him emo
if you ask about a project he's working on he WILL talk for hours
Falls asleep at his desk a lot, but appreciates when you carry him to bed
he loves when you talk to him "while he's sleeping"
Lets you ride with him to TechCons or Comicons, loves going as couple characters
you get invited to the Dungeons and Dragons campaign
likes calling you his boyfriend
Alex
picks you up and does reps with you to flirt
he loves touching your body after a long day of farming, the tan fascinates him.
a surprisingly great cook, always knows what you wanna eat without asking.
has never even looked at a man before you came along, so he's kinda awkward about serious romantic things
bad at confrontation, but great at supporting you
he calls you very masculine things like "superman" or "my man" a lot
Defends Dusty when he steals your spot on the bed, but offers his chest as a substitute.
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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months
Text
━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.
main masterlist
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pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?
note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)
and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️
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specific content warnings under the cut.
cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz
“—stop getting in my way.”
"or what?"
silence.
then, an exasperated groan.
“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”
the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.
your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.
“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”
jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.
a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.
only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.
trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.
he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.
but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.
“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.
the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.
said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”
eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.
two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.
(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)
mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.
what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.
momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.
no bells and whistles, just diligence.
soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.
trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.
mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.
with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.
from trevor.
with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.
mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.
it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.
“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”
“—m’sorry,” you whimper.
his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”
your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.
“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”
a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.
trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."
"no—only want y-you."
it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.
your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.
“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."
in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.
“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."
his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.
...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.
not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.
you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.
trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.
they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.
you surrender.
and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.
the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.
—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.
you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.
sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.
trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.
he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."
giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.
mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.
you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.
naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.
trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."
your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.
"—not you, silly bunny. them."
aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.
"you're joking."
"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."
you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.
watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.
their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.
trevor always knows what you need.
when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.
it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.
on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.
jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."
a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.
"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"
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writingdisposal · 2 months
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Baby-trapping
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~•~•~•~•~•~
synopsis: How likely they are to baby-trap you
cw: yandere themes, mentions of forceful pregnancy (includes non-consensual)
a/n: I don't know how reproduction works in the Hazbin's version of Hell, but let's just assume it still works.
~•~•~•~•~•~
Vox
He isn't fond of the idea. As Hell's most charismatic celebrity, Vox believes in his social skills to be enough to keep you with him. Naturally a baby would bind you forever more, but does he really want some shithead running around? Taking your attention away? The thought has him set in a bad mood. If you happened to get pregnant, he'd tell you to abort it. If you happened to have a kid before meeting him, he'll use as leverage in fights. He'd say, "Why are you acting like such a bitch? At least, I'm giving that little cunt a roof over his head, so listen to me before I stop being so generous!" It's by no means perfect, but Vox can be reasoned with. Well, most of the time anyway. Overall, he disregards them until they become useful. If there are no children, he won't force it.
Alastor
Haha, no. I think he would be a fine with children and he does consider the option, purely for the controlling and sadistic aspect. At the end though, it'll drive you further away from him, so he'll never force a chill. When you both fight however, he will come eerily close to you, static noise filling the room. "Don't underestimate my restraint, dear. If I wished, I could ruin you spectacularly." For this comment to slip, you'd need to really piss him off, like doubting his devotion or looking at someone else romantically. Overall, if you don't or do have children, you'll be fine. He won't really use them as leverage nor hurt them. Alastor would talk shit about you to your children though, not because he is angry with you, just for the entertainment and for your children to become offended.
Valentino
Yes, he would force you to have a child, regardless of the circumstances. It's not because he likes children. God, he hates those whiny little shits..., but they are a great reminder of how much power he has over you. Valentino likes tormenting you. That is the only appeal you have to him, being a fun toy. The children won't bind you, but that will never be his goal. Seeing you sob uncontrollably is what he seeks and enjoys. Everything after is disregarded. "Oh come on~! Was it really that bad?" He laughs mockingly, puffing his smoke, "You'll survive, love." Either way you're fucked.
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desceros · 6 months
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*looks left* *looks right* *pops head in doorway whilst shaking a tin can*
Spare rise!leo mating season headcanons, mayhaps?
🥺👉👈
[drops these into your tin can] happy december, anon-chan
like donnie, he has a period of about a week in the spring where he just gets unbelievably horny. unlike donnie, i think his sneaks up on him a bit more. it'll just hit him all of a sudden that oh. yeah. i've been really restless for the last couple of days because mating season is tomorrow. that explains a lot
before he knew you, it was miserable. it was one long week of having the most unsatisfying orgasms, ruining a pillow from rubbing off on it, being a stupid drooling mess who can't string two thoughts together. by the end he's exhausted and irritable, though after a recovery day he's back to normal and relieved that it's over for the year.
after you start dating though, oh, man. he fucking lives for this time of year. he's just obnoxious about hyping it up for you. already touchy, he's almost overbearing with how cuddly he gets. he doesn't notice, but you do, picking up about a week before it hits that he just can't keep his hands off of you. grumpy if you're within a hundred yards and not pressed up against him. syrupy sweet like candy, needing your attention like it's the blood in his veins.
the first morning, it's super romantic. he wakes you up with his hands on your face, tapping at your cheeks to get your eyes on him. that's always your cue that it's starting. he'll tap you during the year all the time when he wants you bad, but the cheeks are only ever on this morning. he's so soft and affectionate, hungry as fuck for you but needing you to say yes. and when you do, it's probably the best sex you have all year; passionate and slow as he lets his mind slowly turn into soup, all those complicated thoughts he always has in his mind sliding away and replaced instead with how good you make him feel and how much he just adores you.
then, for seven days, you're in his bedroom. unlike donnie, for whom this season is 100% fucking, leo's a bit closer to what could be called making love. it's all about the two of you feeling good while he breeds you. but one thing he does share with his twin is that you're not leaving the four walls until you're done. he's not as aggressively possessive as donnie (who is a well-known bitch during his mating season), but he, too, doesn't like to share this part of you. you, well-fucked and blissed out, is for him to see.
he's open to positions; liking equally when he's fucking you from behind; or when you're riding him with your palms pressing on his plastron; or when you're twined together side by side, too tired to be on top but needing to still be close. he needs to have his dick in you, and he will be coming inside, that's still not to be questioned; but he's much less picky about how it happens.
boy is a talker. you're going to know exactly how good you feel, how amazing you are, how he can't hardly stand how much he loves you, every single detail that makes him obsessed with you. it's not even conscious; he's just babbling, mind gone and mouth working.
at the end of the week when he can finally put his brain back into his skull, he's really big on cuddling for a few hours and just making out. you smell like him, just him, and that makes his turtle brain so happy he just churrs nonstop. his sass comes back and he starts teasing you about how you can't move your legs (though you're quick to remind him about the first year you'd done this, and you'd challenged him to stand and he'd immediately folded to the floor). and then he pulls you into the shower and gets you cleaned up, at which point the two of you always go out to eat with you wearing one of his shirts (the one that has a habit of sliding off the shoulder a bit), him preening at how you're so, so visibly his.
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