#better to ask for forgiveness than wait for permission | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stairain · 2 months

Text

Conditioned response

You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes.

WC: 1.2K

Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.

Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet.

Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”

His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers.

It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time.

No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him.

Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release.

After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was.

As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked.

He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment.

But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards.

As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair.

He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair.

Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage.

Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this.

The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”

You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean. This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs.

“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.”

It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former.

“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”

You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes.

The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless.

“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“

You snap. He cums.

Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants.

“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.”

You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless.

“And how would I do that, to stop this?”

You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.

“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.”

Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for.

“But you don’t want that, do you?”

Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self.

So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken.

The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut.

It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him.

Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure.

It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.

“I-I can’t, please.”

He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal.

“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”

You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest.

You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms.

A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was.

It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior?

You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways.

A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.”

It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.

Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it.

But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length.

You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.

His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

835 notes · View notes

aphroditelovesu · 7 months

Text

Yan!Apollo w/Reader!Daughter of Yan!Hera Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ ☀️ — lady l: this headcanon is based more on Hera's POV than Apollo's, but I hope you like it anyway. This ask was thought of and I can do a second part if anyone wants! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, offenses and hatred, bouts of jealousy, unhealthy relationships, mention of war.

❝🦚pairing: yandere!apollo x reader!daughter of yan!hera.

No one knew how you ended up in Hera's arms, but everyone knew you were hers. Some said that you were found by her when you were a small child, others say that you were taken by her after she cursed your parents after they had offended her in some way and other versions say that you were her and Zeus's daughter. No one knew the exact origin and it didn't really matter, because you were hers and always would be.

Hera is known for being vengeful and possessive, jealous of Zeus's lovers and anyone who crossed her path. And that jealousy passed on to you as you grew into a beautiful young woman. Your mother wouldn't let anyone near you and when you reached marriageable age, Hera became more suffocating than ever.

She would never let her little girl get married or be defiled by any man. Whether mortal or god, no one will lay hands on you. Hera swore to herself that you would never be touched or hurt as long as she existed.

Apollo has always had an interest in you. He always liked you but never had the real chance to get to know you, not with Hera hovering over you all the time. The god didn't know why but he wanted to get to know you better, to get closer. You attracted him, maybe it was because of your immense beauty, he didn't know, but there was something about you that attracted him like a magnet and he needed to know what it was. So he waited for an opportunity to get closer to you.

And this opportunity arrived in the best way possible. You were finally allowed to wander around Olympus for a bit, without having your mother glued to your side. You begged her if you could go out alone for a bit and Hera gave in very reluctantly. As you wandered through some gardens, Apollo was sitting near a statue of Zeus, playing his lyre and singing something in a low voice. You cautiously approached the god and crouched near a hyacinth bush, hiding and watching him in wonder. Apollo knew you were there, but he didn't stop singing and playing, wanting to impress you.

When he stopped singing and playing, Apolo stared blankly at the bush where you were hiding. That was when you knew you had been caught. You stood up awkwardly, smoothing out your rumpled dress and stammering out a weak apology. You knew it was wrong to spy on others, especially a god. To your surprise, Apollo laughed and approached you, telling you that everything was fine and he didn't mind being watched by a beautiful lady like you. You blushed and smiled at his words and that was the beginning of a beautiful romance.

After this meeting in the garden, you and Apollo began to meet more often, all hidden from your mother's jealous eyes. You found yourself more and more attracted to this god and Apollo more and more in love and obsessed with you. You were perfect in his eyes. Benevolent and merciless in just the right amount, a daughter of Hera indeed. You would be a perfect wife and Apollo found himself more and more eager to ask you to marry him, but he was no fool, he knew that Hera would never accept. So he wouldn't ask her permission, but rather his father.

Apollo went to meet Zeus and told him his wishes, that he would like to marry you, leaving his father at an impasse. Zeus would like to allow you to become his son wife, but Hera would never allow it. And she was the goddess of marriage, getting married without her blessing wasn't the right thing to do. But Apollo didn't care and when Zeus reluctantly gave his permission, he knew what he had to do.

One night, Hera was by your side as you tried to fall asleep. Like the caring and patient mother she was to you, she kept you company until you fell asleep. As you fell asleep, Hera left the room and locked the door like she always did. You woke up a few minutes later and opened the window, allowing Apollo to enter. Once in your room, Apollo kissed you and got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Your heart raced and before you could think, the words ''yes'' left your mouth and you were in Apollo's arms, kissing him passionately. You were so focused on each other that you didn't hear the door open until Hera started screaming.

Hera had known something was wrong for weeks. She suspected but had no proof that you were seeing anyone, until that cursed night. She left your room and waited for a few minutes, wanting to make sure you didn't have a lover, the thought made her sick. When she heard voices coming from inside your room, Hera unlocked the door and quickly walked in and she saw red. All she felt in that moment was hate, pure rage seeing you in the arms of a bastard of a husband. Hera had never been so sorry that she hadn't been able to kill Apollo when he was still in his whore mother's womb. How dare he tarnish you? Her pure princess? She was ready to kill him.

Apollo pushed you behind him just as your mother started screaming. This sight only enraged her further. It wasn't enough that he dishonored you, he still wanted to keep you away from the only person who would always love you. You flinched at your mother's screams and Apollo's eerie calm. When Hera finally stopped screaming, she tried to get closer to you but Apollo wouldn't let her. Just as Hera was about to curse him, Zeus stormed into the room furiously and demanded to know what was happening. Hera couldn't explain how furious she was and Apollo was very calm. Zeus looked at you and when he saw the ring on your finger, he knew what had happened. Curse that Hera had discovered that way.

Zeus tried to calm his wife, but his attempts were frustrated and he had to impose himself so that she and Apollo did not start fighting physically or trigger a war. Apollo just said that you and him would get married and that Hera would have no right to interfere, not when he had the blessing of the King of Olympus. Hera let out a scream of rage and all this fury was diverted towards Zeus, leaving the god in trouble. Hera was screaming at her husband and demanding answers, how did he have the nerve to let his bastard son get his hands on you? Hera doesn't remember feeling as much hatred towards Zeus as she did at that moment. Zeus remained silent, trying to remain calm while being insulted by his wife. When she finally stopped yelling at him, she turned to talk to you and you were no longer there.

Apollo had taken you. Hera fell to her knees and uttered curses. Zeus just watched her with remorse. She got up and sat on your bed and grabbed your pillow, in an act of fury, she tore it and her green eyes were filled with hatred. She would destroy Apollo and anyone who got in her way until you were safe and sound in her arms. She was ready to start a war, use her son, Ares, to destroy the world to bring you back. She swore these words and Zeus, for the first time, was speechless.

#yandere greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere apollo #yandere apollo x reader #apollo x reader #yandere hera #platonic yandere hera #yandere headcanons #headcanons #greek gods #yandere platonic hera #greek mythology

1K notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 4 months

Text

look me in the eyes; tell me you love him

Author’s Note: this is FILTHY. 😳 I’m in love. 😌 Ending is purposely ambiguous, but def not bad/sad.

look me in the eyes; tell me you love him

Geto Suguru x Reader x Gojo Satoru

Word Count: ~3,400

CW: 18+NSFW, anal, cheating, cream!pie, c!m eating, degrading language, double!p, explicit language, Fem!Reader, spit, squirting, threesome

Kinktober 2023

~faqs~

“Y’know, you could’ve waited five minutes, just in case I forgot something.”

Fuck.

—

It’s hard to respond to Suguru’s deadpan remark when Satoru refuses to relinquish your mouth, candy sweet tongue swiping greedily along your bottom lip, pointedly ignoring his best friend posted up in the living room doorway. Your ass sits perched on the couch’s armrest, shocked and anxious eyes meeting your boyfriend’s frosty stare, breasts bare while your delicate skirt flares out innocent and pretty, legs spread to make room for Satoru’s ministrations. His large, slender hand remains occupied between your thighs, nimble thumb keeping your panties aside while his index and middle fingers pet teasingly at your soft, warm folds.

“Don’t grip her so tightly,” Suguru mutters darkly, stalking toward Satoru’s other hand as he kneads roughly at the plush of your hip, “She’ll bruise.”

“Oh I know,” Satoru replies, nonchalant and smug, promptly reaching up for your cheeks, squishing your face with a grin, “Now listen.”

Against his better judgment, Suguru halts his advance, stomach twisting at the dazedness in your eyes, your gaze dropping as Satoru slips his fingers into your heat, undeniable squelch of slick and desire blurring Suguru’s vision while Satoru curls his fingers so precisely and familiarly, your body jolting at the pressure.

“What a slut,” Suguru snarls, rooted in place as your head falls backward, a strangled moan building in your chest, Satoru’s fingers moving faster and faster with more and more dexterity, the sound of your essence coating his fingers becoming louder and messier, staining your skirt as he approaches the crest of your orgasm with practiced ease, “This isn’t the first time my best friend has had his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, is it? The way your breath catches, the way your knees jerk… how long have you been fucking?”

“Suguru,” you finally whimper, pushing limply at Satoru’s wrist, “I’m so sorry.”

A displeased growl draws your attention, Satoru frowning disappointedly even as he continues chasing your orgasm, fingers jabbing sharper, your pathetic mewls spurring him on.

“Damn right you’re sorry,” Satoru hisses, “Why the hell are you saying the name of the guy who isn’t about to make your stupid cunt cum?”

“That guy,” Suguru interjects bitterly, “Is your best friend. How about you quit blocking my view, and at least let me watch my bitch cheating on me.”

Laughing amusedly, Satoru acquiesces, unceremoniously flipping your skirt up to reveal your glistening pussy, shifting himself just enough for Suguru to see how eagerly your hole flutters around his fingers, “Your bitch? At this point, I’d say she’s our bitch. I’ve been fucking her whenever you’re gone for months.”

“Let me guess,” Suguru snorts, no longer frozen, striding closer till he can feel the air vibrating with Satoru’s domineering bite, “Something about asking for forgiveness rather than permission? Bet that was your thoughtless process.”

“Sure was,” Satoru singsongs, grabbing your face once more as you begin shaking, “That’s right bitch, fucking squirt all over your boyfriend’s nice pants. Show him how you like to cheat on him, show him what his best friend is capable of.”

Suguru’s mouth curdles with disgust and begrudging interest as you climax, your legs quivering too familiarly while Satoru slaps wetly at your cunt. Your poofy skirt paints a scene of naivety around your waist even as a visible puddle collects on the sun faded floor beneath you, the couch’s armrest suffering the same fate as your cum dribbles between your asscheeks.

“Well, you are capable,” Suguru sighs, nose crinkling when Satoru casually flicks the remnants of your orgasm onto his pants, a nasty smile accompanying the scent of your sex while you lean limply into Satoru’s side.

With a low hum, Satoru pets lightly at your head, his cock straining in his trousers with satisfaction as your cum sticks to your hair. Glancing downward, he notes Suguru’s own erection, a sizable bulge that you’d gushed about not infrequently, gears clanging when you tug plaintive at the hem of his shirt.

“Whaddya want?” he nearly coos, comfort settling in at your adoring pout and Suguru’s somehow ebbing temper, “Both of us?”

Your eyes widen at Satoru’s forbidden suggestion, Suguru’s jaw twitching. He must be so pissed you think, tears quickly brimming as realization knocks you from your high. You’d shove Satoru if you could trust yourself to balance, still reeling from your climax, beginning to tremble as Suguru fails to acknowledge you.

“As often as you ride this cock,” Satoru drawls, confidence rising, “I can’t seem to escape your yapping about his,” chin jutting toward Suguru, “Dick. So maybe you could give us both a try. We’ll figure out who you really love.”

And part of you immediately recoils, teeth gnashing at the implication of your cheating equating to loving, wondering far too late if Satoru might actually like you a little. If, perhaps, the tender, soapy showers and playful, gentle cuddles weren’t merely for his ego. If his constant availability and willingness to fuck you within an inch of consciousness—to then build and nurture you back to coy flirtation and unguarded laughter—should’ve been a redder flag. If, in fact, it was heart shaped.

But a bigger part of you surrenders, intrigued by the chance to feel your lovers together. Desperate to earn Suguru’s forgiveness. His approval. And much too aware of the precum leaking through his pants, almost licking your lips at the prospect of angry, possessive fucking.

“Suguru?” you say carefully, pussy clenching at the prompt disdain in his eyes, his expression so bored yet so ready to devour you.

“Tell me you love him,” Suguru murmurs, a succinct, seductive demand, “Look me in the eyes, and tell me you love him.”

“Wha-”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, readjusting his crotch in an exaggerated, languid movement, “I mind a lot. I fucking hate you,” the unzipping of his pants filling the room with a choked anticipation, “But what’s done is done. So you have two options,” resting a patronizing palm on your bare shoulder, smirking as your body gravitates away from Satoru, “You can tell me the truth, and my best friend and I will fuck your cunt and ass until we are sated… or you can lie to me and sit here while my best friend and I cum on your fucking whore face.”

Your ending is clear, the fragility of your position—and the wickedness of their friendship—stated point and blank. You don’t need to spare Satoru a glance to know he’s celebrating internally, his cockiness and blatant disrespect being rewarded in a roundabout manner as usual. And you don’t need to press Suguru further, his intent to punish you confirmed, a surprisingly promising future ahead should you play your cards right.

“Fuck my cunt and my ass,” you whisper, core stirring as Suguru’s pants hit the ground, his briefs soon following, Satoru’s impressed whistle—Not bad, not bad—and Suguru’s consequent scowl reminding you of how dearly you love Suguru’s cock.

“Not quite,” Suguru tsks, stroking his cock with a dreadful calmness, palm on your shoulder lowering to cup your tit, “Tell me the truth.”

“I…” you falter, feeling Satoru’s obliques stiffen against your cheek, his hand firm in your hair as Suguru’s remains on your shoulder, “I can’t…”

Suguru strokes himself faster, balls already tightening from your earlier performance, expression growing more bored and less primal.

“Ilovehim,” you gasp, Satoru’s eyes shutting at your confession, “I love him and how he’s memorized me from head to toe. How he can make me cum over and over, how he cleans and cherishes me,” gulping for air as you fixate on Suguru’s cock, so red and swollen and shining with precum, “But… but I love you. I love you and how you’ve accepted me through ups and downs, how you make me feel stars. How I feel known by you, inside and out. How I believe I know you, enough to make you happy.”

“Enough to cheat on me?” is Suguru’s tart retort, “With my best friend. You’re so-”

“Suguru.”

Satoru’s interruption startles you, his voice silken honey as he smoothes the furrow of your brow, deftly unzipping his own pants, determined to match Suguru’s pace. Eyes rolling, Suguru grabs your thigh, forcing your legs wide, mouth a thin line as Satoru’s underwear pools at his ankles.

“Complaints?” Satoru winks, grabbing your other thigh, brushing your cheek with his free fingers—your cum flaking onto your face—for a fleeting moment before nudging you upright, “Does she get any prep?”

You lick your lips properly now, the heat and allure of their hands spreading you open making your pussy tingle. Suguru’s cock waits heavy and engorged in his grasp, an unassuming yet devastatingly thick six inches with a perfectly mushroomed tip to compliment his foreboding stature. Meanwhile, Satoru’s curves slightly upward, elegantly cruel at eight inches, slim and pink as his flared tip drools precum.

“Prep? For this bitch?” Suguru punctuates his slur with a smack to your nipples, delighting in your yelp as he meets Satoru’s zealous gaze, “I’m sure she gets plenty, fucking around with multiple men.”

“Multiple?” Satoru snaps at that, mood simmering at the thought, “No, Suguru. Just me. Just me… and you.”

Suguru doesn’t have the patience to argue semantics, tugging roughly on your tit to guide you off the couch’s armrest and onto the couch itself, Satoru’s hand migrating from your thigh to your ass, whimsical skirt torn from your waist, lazy thumb prodding at your asshole as you brace yourself on all fours. A glob of spit lands on your back, and then your asscheek, Suguru pinching and twisting your nipples with unperturbed harshness as he watches Satoru’s thumb trace a heart through the spit before sinking into your hole. You hiss at the intrusion, ill prepared for the intense sensation of using spit for lube, groaning when Satoru immediately spits on your ass again. His thumb slips farther and farther into your asshole as he continues spitting, relishing in how his spit beads and then drips onto the cushions below, your pubic hair drenched and glistening.

“Does this mean you’re fucking her ass?” Suguru queries, admiring the pained scrunch of your face as Satoru switches from his thumb to both his index and middle fingers, tolerating the impromptu preparation to bask in your obvious physical discomfort.

He gifts you a chastising kiss, forgetting your tits for a second to cup and caress your cheeks, softening the pain in your expression.

“Actually,” Satoru grins behind you, something devilish and orchestrated to which only Suguru is privy, “I was thinking your monster girth would do a better job of breaking this tight fucking ass, and I know she loves when I abuse her cervix.”

Choosing to disregard Satoru’s baiting reference to his own claim to your pleasure, Suguru nods in agreement, squatting to your eye level as you whimper faintly, Satoru shoving a third finger past your gradually relaxing muscle.

“Satoru’s being so considerate,” Suguru says, saccharine and sarcastic, “The jerk’s always compensating for something,” sneering as he knocks your arms out from under you, your asshole suddenly empty as Satoru withdraws.

Suguru maneuvers you like light weight as he slinks himself beneath you, your mouth smooshed into his chest for a brief respite. And then you’re being flipped onto your ass, slippery from Satoru’s ministrations as Suguru’s cock slides hard and fat between your asscheeks. Suguru’s arms catch your legs and hook around your knees, pulling backwards till you’re bent in half, palms forcing your head downward while your tits squish into your kneecaps, your asshole and cunt presented to Satoru as you struggle to breathe.

“Marvelous,” Satoru murmurs, smiling to himself as he reaches tentatively, “Uh… Suguru, may I?”

“Yeah, yeah, touch my dick,” Suguru snorts, “How else is it gonna get into her asshole?”

“Touché,” Satoru laughs, grasping Suguru’s cock almost cheerfully, appreciating its heft as he guides your pelvis high enough to position the tip, “This thing is solid.”

Glowering, Suguru mutters, “Thanks,” hips shifting until he feels his precum smearing on the pucker of your ass.

You gasp when he thrusts upward, a fearful, eager noise, unable to even wiggle in Suguru’s ironclad grip. His tip bumps a couple times—clumsy and large—against your hole, Satoru letting out a dramatic sigh before providing greater assistance. Satoru’s long fingers curl fully around Suguru’s shaft as he persists in shallow thrusting, a guttural groan accompanying a loud exclamation—Fuck!—when he finally bullies himself into your asshole.

“Atta bitch,” Satoru chimes, enraptured by the sight of your skin stretched to its limit around Suguru’s cock, rim fluttering around the foreign feeling, your hands balled into fists at the tearing pain.

“Suguru!” you wail, gut churning as his shallow thrusts grow increasingly deeper, ass burning with every selfish rut as he ploughs through the immense friction, your hole receiving little opportunity to recover as he builds a staggering tempo, “Suguru, Suguru, Suguru!” drunk on the suffocating drag of your asshole clinging desperately to his cock, slowly but surely swallowing him whole, “FUCK!”

Head woozy and neck aching, the pain maintains pace with the pleasure as you watch Satoru grab his own cock, leaning over to spit on your sternum—you swear he mouths Mine, or maybe it was the endorphins—as he places his other palm on the underside of your thigh. Suguru pays Satoru no mind, speed barely lessening though your body remains relatively steady due to your restrained pose. You imagine taking Satoru in your pussy will be easier, it’s a more natural feeling after all, dazed on the cock in your ass, clit terribly neglected as your cunt clenches excitedly. But you’ve never been doubly penetrated before.

You’re sorely mistaken.

The initial push is as expected. You’re soaked from Satoru’s fingering, the plethora of teasing and warnings, and Suguru’s relentless fucking into your asshole, pain having reasonably subsided albeit still stinging with an unsympathetic roughness. Satoru’s pretty cockhead slips right in, his slimmer width hardly interfering with Suguru’s rhythm. You moan at the fullness, and Satoru’s poorly concealed whine makes Suguru smirk. Encouraged by your response, Satoru thrusts forward, hands resting casually on Suguru’s knees—who tries, and fails, to resist flinching—Satoru’s head pitching backward to display the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. A mewl fills the air as Satoru’s cock slides farther into your pussy, Suguru undoubtedly bruising your legs to counter your weak squirming, the stuffing of your ass and pussy coming to overwhelming fruition.

“So fucking beautiful,” Satoru gushes, fixated on how perfectly his cock disappears into your cunt, finding himself nearly winded as well from the newfound pressure of a second cock fucking into the hole beneath him.

“Pah,” Suguru grunts, hiding his dilated pupils and bitten lips in your nape, stamina far from waning as his brutal fucking continues, “Stop praising the whore and start ruining it.”

Shaking his head with wry amusement, Satoru’s meandering pace carries on, simply fascinated by the pleading glaze in your eyes, asshole sensitive to the touch as Satoru circles a playful finger around your rim, taut and clenching as Suguru’s cock flexes from the feathery stimulation.

Just when you worry Satoru’s forgotten about the hole he’s supposed to be fucking—Silly girl—he fucks himself in, balls brushing the base of Suguru’s cock as you scream, writhing hopeless and exhausted when Suguru plunges himself in to the hilt too.

“Mmm,” Satoru rasps, “You truly are a whore, huh,” tip twitching against your cervix as your cunt throbs erratic and velvety around him, “Falling in love with me while dating my best friend, letting us destroy your slutty holes to try and make it up to both of us,” spit trickling from his too sweet mouth to your puffy folds, “I can’t believe we fit in here,” tapping your clit with a handsome grin, moaning outright when you convulse, “You must really love us.”

You cum at his words, so cherry red and persuasively picked, Suguru relaxing slightly to allow you a complete orgasm. They fuck you through your climax, the sticky sound of slapping balls and viscous essence quickly edging you toward another. There’s cotton in your head, legs tiring even with Suguru’s support, trembling from exertion; what else could explain the dizzying fuzz hazing your perception? Suguru’s cock shoves ridged and ruthless into your ass, Satoru’s thrusting more lubricated but deep in your cunt, your poor cervix pulsating from every graze of his tip.

“Please,” you beg, whimpering hollowly as you cum again, walls beginning to constrict in a subconscious urge to cease their thorough fucking, “Please, please, please…” whining as Suguru’s grip tightens once more, sweat dripping from you onto Suguru abdomen, from Satoru’s brow to your bellybutton, “Cum for me.”

They exchange a look, Suguru reluctant but sated, Satoru willing and proud. You’re mumbling now, a mishmash of Suguru and Satoru and Can’t take it, pain blossoming stronger than before as their thrusts hasten, a sloppy finger rushing back and forth on your clit creating minimal relief, fierce and implacable as it coaxes a final, mangled orgasm from you. You manage a broken sob as you climax on their cocks, Suguru immediately releasing your limbs, his arms hugging sturdy and devoted around your shuddering frame, cum flooding your holes as they synch their highs. Suguru is silent when he cums, labored exhales the only indiction of his effort, teeth marking your neck with soon-to-fade divots. And Satoru is loud. Cursing and groaning while he pumps load after load into your swollen pussy, your folds a creamy mess as he fucks his cum out of you, spurred on by Suguru’s low growl when his spend inevitably leaks onto Suguru’s cock.

Satoru pulls out first, eager to watch their cum dribble from your holes, Suguru following shortly after. They unceremoniously readjust your depleted form, slumped ass off the couch, tits resting in the dampness left by Suguru’s body. Brown eyes glinting, Suguru uses his foot to nudge your legs apart, snickering as cum promptly oozes from your cunt and ass to the floor. Satisfying strings stick to your inner thighs, air escaping your pussy with a quiet queefing sound, a wet farting noise making Satoru giggle as your asshole gapes, bubbling with cum.

“So where does this leave us?” Satoru piques, kneeling to jab greedily at your cunt, pushing his cum back into your hole with a lewd schlick, chuckling when you clench weakly, struggling to keep it in, “She’s a loose bitch now.”

“Dunno,” Suguru glances away, arms crossing, “We should get dressed.”

“One moment,” Satoru grins, knees hitting the ground with a soft thud as he spreads your asscheeks with his palms, licking nastily at his lips, “I want a taste.”

Suguru scoffs, watching with morbid curiosity as Satoru flicks the tip of his tongue across your cunt, your protesting whimper lost beneath his giddy moan, cum coating his mouth. Locating his briefs, Suguru slowly clothes himself as Satoru dutifully cleans your pussy, licking himself from your quivering folds and bud, sticking his tongue hungrily into your hole as cum drools down his chin, smirking to himself as a nearly imperceivable orgasm shivers through your body. As Suguru zips his pants, Satoru traverses to your gaping asshole, Suguru’s cock feebly attempting to harden again when Satoru locks eyes with him, mouth covering your hole before he pointedly sucks.

“You’re fucking nasty,” Suguru grumbles, tossing Satoru his underwear.

Satoru hums pleasantly, the vibrations causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into the couch, cum trailing from your ass to the backs of your knees.

“And that’s why she needs both of us,” Satoru quips, nuzzling your asscheek with a smug smile, your head raising slightly at his affection, “That’s why she loves both of us.”

—

“There were easier ways to arrange a threesome than falling in love with Satoru,” Suguru mutters, eyeing your post shower glow with resigned endearment.

“But would they have been as fun?” you ask, pressing a fond kiss to his forehead.

“Nah, definitely not!” Satoru declares, arms slinging over Suguru’s shoulder and around your waist, “And by the way, I’m flattered.”

I love you Suguru murmurs into your hair, flicking Satoru’s ear beyond the edge of your vision. And I love you you trace into his hand, fingers intertwined against Satoru’s lower back.

#one shot #modern au #kinktober 2023 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #suguru x reader x satoru #satoru x reader x suguru #geto x reader x gojo #gojo x reader x geto #satosugu x reader

573 notes · View notes

not-vox-on-tummbler · 13 days

Text

VOX x Reader (Blurb)

WARNINGS: Rough Vox, established relationships, use of toys, use of term ‘slut’ more than needed, Smut

MDNI 18+

It was the bright electric blue that had snapped you out of the pre-orgasmic glow you had feeling buzzing in your stomach. It was so jarring have been in the dark just a moment ago KNOWING you were alone, until a bright LED screen was looking down at you with a shit eating grin.

“Having fun there sweetheart?” His voice low and husky, you groan in annoyance having lost your buzz. With a near snarl in your tone,”Fuck you,Vox! You fucking pervert…” you blush and cover yourself fully. He ‘tsk’ at you and sat next to you on the bed. “Now Now, I think you know better than anyone else that I own this precious little hole of yours and you are supposed to ASK PERMISSION TO TOUCH IT WHEN YOU ARE BEING TOO NEEDY OF A SLUT!” He reaches over and grabs a fist full of your hair. You groan in pleasurable pain, you hand flying up to grab onto his wrist,”A-Ah! V-Vox!” He yanks harder and pulls you closer to his brightly lit screen face.

Hissing, you squint your eyes from his screen and open up your mouth to speak again, but he’d beat you to it. “You address me correctly, or you don’t SPEAK at all. Remember?” He growls out and you close your mouth immediately. He grins and raises his brow expectedly,”Yes, sir. Understood.” He releases your hair and squishes your cheeks together. With tear as pricking in your eyes you look up at him,”I’m sorry, sir. I-I couldn’t wait or find you, sir. Please please forgive me…” you whimper out form your fish lips his grip was forcing your face into.

He chuckles and lets go, but not so gently. He releases you with a toss of your head back, you fall on the covers of your bed. You watch him through your lashes as he stood up and stepped off into the rest of the darkness in the room. You hear him pull out a set of keys, jingle them around and as he bent down the light from his head illuminated the chest you were all too familiar with. He unlocks it, takes a moment to look inside before humming in content with his decision of a pair of his own handcuffs and a vibrator that was just perfectly shaped to your pleasure and a suction. You felt chills run down your spine as you have now recognize that this was a punishment and by his pleased and calm demeanor you could tell it was gonna be a long and agonizing punishment.

Within a couple of hours you were crying whimpering and babbling nonsense. Repeating an apology that was being ignored. “Awe c’mon now doll face. You knew the rules. You know the punishment. There are not enough tears or begging that’s gonna change the fact you’re a desperate slut who just doesn’t listen.” He says in a soothing voice. He’s sat in the corner, his pants lazily dropped to his ankles and his hand wrapped around his cock rubbing and teasing his leaking tip. You squirm and kick as you feel another orgasm approaching rapidly, knowing your tells he grins devilishly and with a flick of his claws the vibrator is immediately shut off again, you toss your head back and let out a sob.

He laughs, and again the vibrator is switched back on. He loves this game. He loves making you pay for being disobedient.

It’s the reason you’re his favorite toy.

{Jinx}

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel smut #Vox smut #Hox Hazbin Hotel smut #Vox x reader #Vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Hazbin Vox #idk what other tags #pls reblog

163 notes · View notes

jinjeriffic · 2 months

Text

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 7

Part 6

It took Damian the rest of the afternoon to prepare for his trip to Amity Park. Jon helpfully agreed to cover for him, on the promise of a copy of the upcoming Cheese Viking 2 and getting filled in on all the hot Bat gossip afterwards. Wasn’t friendship grand?

Pennyworth thankfully agreed that ‘bonding time’ between the Super Sons was a good use of fall break and even took the time to ‘Prepare some healthy snacks for the young Masters, lest you eat junk food the whole week’. The task also handily distracted the butler while Damian packed the Batwing with all the necessary surveillance equipment he would need and set up the program to spoof his flight data. Damian had no doubt that Father wouldn’t be fooled for long, but with the Bat it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

The flight to Illinois was mercifully uneventful. Damian rappelled off in the middle of the eponymous city Park, then instructed the autopilot to take the plane to a wooded area outside city limits and park there in camouflage mode. Once he was sure his arrival had gone undetected, he changed into civvies and with his backpack full of gear set off in the direction of Fenton Works on foot. In jeans, sneakers, a dark hoodie and a baseball cap he looked like any other kid his age, even if he was out after curfew. Damian made sure to stick to the shadows and ducked behind cover whenever a car passed him.

All in all it took him until the early morning hours to arrive at the correct address. Intellectually, he had known the Fentons operated their workshop out of the family home, but he was in no way prepared for the monstrosity of a building that greeted him. Damian couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief.

What had once started out as an ordinary brownstone building had a glaring neon sign out front, proudly proclaiming the company name. Perched precariously on the roof was a gigantic metal structure that looked like a cross between a cartoon UFO and an observatory. There was no way this was legal or sane. If something like this had popped up in Gotham it would have been flagged as a Rogue hideout and bugged to hell and back. Hell, Damian was half tempted to break in immediately to start planting cameras but was held back by the likely presence of a custom security system. Mad scientists were rude like that and Damian didn’t want to tip his hand too early. He would have to at least wait until he was sure the Fentons weren’t at home.

Damian tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and strolled past the building at a fake casual pace. The windows were dark and the building was silent, except for the faint hum of the neon sign. This early on a Saturday morning, the residents were likely fast asleep. He spotted an electric scooter chained up next to the stairs leading up to the entrance and made the deduction that it likely belonged to Daniel. Under the guise of retying his shoelaces, he dropped to one knee and surreptitiously attached a bug to the vehicle. Ideally he would get the opportunity to bug Daniel himself, but for now this would have to do. Hoping that no one had noticed him, Damian continued down the street.

He had researched the area ahead of time and had found an apartment a few buildings down and across the street that was advertised as available for rent and was unoccupied. Breaking in and disabling the home alarm was child’s play, and after making sure he was alone in the apartment, Damian settled in to begin his surveillance.

He pulled the handheld radiation detector out of his backpack and after making sure it was operational he slipped it into his pocket. With no way to boost its range he would have to get pretty close to Daniel with no major obstructions in the way in order to verify if he had been in contact with the marked bills he had slipped Phantom. But Damian was confident in his ability to stay undetected. After all, Daniel had no reason to suspect he was being stalked by a curious Bat.

Damian kept himself occupied by listening to the local radio broadcast over his comm. The hosts sounded like chipper twenty-somethings, excitedly shilling for various local events happening over fall break, in-between shilling for local businesses. Why anyone would want to eat at an establishment called the Nasty Burger was beyond Damian. Whenever they stopped nattering to play actual music it was a blessing even if the appeal of the songs was entirely lost on the young vigilante. Finally, at 8am they had an actual news segment. Most of it was covering major US and global events, nothing Damian hadn’t already heard. Elections, natural disasters, rising tensions in Bialya…

“...and in local news, the City Library has announced that clean-up after last week’s ghost attack is finished, and they will be open at their normal hours on Monday!” the female host said cheerily, as if she was talking about the weather. “As usual, we would like to remind our listeners to keep their third eyes peeled for any ghost sightings! In case of a ghost attack, follow standard protocol and head to your nearest ghost shelter. Thank you! And here’s Mark with sports!”

Damian was flabbergasted. Ghost attack? This city experienced supernatural incursions and treated it like it was a normal occurrence? He’d read that the Fentons were ghost hunters, but he hadn’t thought anyone was taking them seriously! If Amity Park was under attack on a regular basis, how come the Justice League didn’t have a file on the city? Surely the news should have leaked to the outside world by now!

It was rare that Damian was caught so utterly wrong footed. His cursory research into Amity Park had turned up nothing like this! He was itching to get back to the Batcomputer to do a deep dive on the city and its history. Unfortunately, all he had on him was his phone which was ill suited for serious data compilation. At best he could scour local news sites and social media for any hint as to what was going on.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he gave up in disgust. There was no mention of ghosts anywhere, save for the Fentons’ own website. Yet the news report had been almost blasé about the subject! Something was rotten in the State of Illinois.

All he could do for now was stare out the window at the Fenton’s front porch and hope his quarry made an appearance soon.

At 9.13 AM there was finally movement at the Fenton house. A dark-haired teenager in jeans, a light T-shirt, a backpack and a bicycle helmet bounded down the front steps and unlocked the electric scooter. It was unmistakably Daniel.

Damian hurriedly packed away his things, grabbed his backpack and left the apartment. He made sure to rearm the security system and lock the door, leaving no trace of ever having been there. Of course Damian wasn’t about to pursue his target across the rooftops of an unknown city in broad daylight. He would just have to wait for Daniel to arrive at his destination and follow him there. He retrieved his phone and pulled up the tracking data. It looked like the teen was headed towards the city center.

Damian tuned his comm to the listening device he had planted and set off towards downtown Amity at a light jog. For a while, all he heard was background noise. After about ten minutes, Daniel came to a stop.

“Hey Tucker, ready to go?” That had to be Daniel.

“Hey Danny!” a second male voice answered, “I was just waiting for you. Sam says she’ll meet us at the main entrance of the mall.”

“Sweet. Hopefully we can grab something cool from Game’O’Rama if we beat the rush.”

“You said it, my dude. Come on!”

The tracker resumed its movement. Now that he had a destination, Damian used his phone to call a cab. There couldn’t be that many malls in a city this size.

Daniel and his friend ‘Tucker’ kept up a steady stream of idle chatter on their journey. Damian learned more than he ever wanted to know about the attractive qualities of the female students at their high school, the tediousness of the homework assignments they had received for the week and the reviews of recent horror movie releases. Inconsequential chit chat as far as Damian was concerned. Once the pair arrived at their destination they parked their scooters and were soon out of range of the listening device. Damian cut the transmission and spent the rest of the short cab ride trying to find information on Daniel’s companion. Since they were apparently classmates and he had a first name to go on, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to Tucker Foley. Damian made a mental note to investigate him in depth later.

The mall was moderately busy when he arrived but nowhere near as bad as Gotham. Luckily there was a floorplan displayed at the entrance and it didn’t take Damian long to find the Game’O’Rama store. Predictably, it was dedicated to video games, gaming accessories and memorabilia. A sign in the window announced a major weekend sale, likely what had drawn Daniel and his companions. Damian slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses to conceal his eyes and meandered into the store. Wandering between the aisles, pretending to examine the games on offer, it didn’t take him long to find his quarry and Damian got his first good look at the trio.

Daniel was almost a head taller than Damian, slightly paler and with his dark hair mussed up from the scooter ride earlier. His clothes were slightly threadbare, and not the kind that was intentional. His white T-shirt bore a faded NASA logo and his jeans were frayed at the cuffs. He had dark circles under his eyes, though not nearly as bad as Drake got when he was on a case. Nonetheless, for the moment he seemed cheerful and at ease. He was examining the back of a disk case.

“I don’t know Tuck, I’m not much for medieval fantasy,” he said amusedly, “and a lot of these monsters look like ghosts we’ve seen. I get enough of them on a day to day basis, I don’t need them in my video games too.”

Again, this talk of ghosts.

The African American male next to Daniel had to be Tucker Foley. He was just a few inches shorter than Daniel, with his hair in shoulder length dreadlocks partially covered by a red beret. A matching red T-shirt with white Atari logo and baggy camo pants screamed nerd even before you got close enough to notice the black rimmed glasses and the clunky looking device he was tapping away on. Where did he get it from, the middle-ages?

“Look, the reviews are pretty great, and if we avoid everything ghost related what’s even left?” the boy argued, “You can’t let ghosts ruin your fun, man.”

“Tucker’s right, Danny.” the third member of their group chimed in. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a sheer, lacy top, a knee-length skirt, fishnet gloves and stockings and a pair of combat boots. With the thick soles giving her added height, she was almost as tall as Daniel. She wore eerily pale foundation making her dark purple lipstick and eyeshadow pop out even more. She had a small nose stud with a matching purple stone. Her earrings were shaped like spiders dangling from a web and she wore a pentagram necklace. Damian knew some of his schoolmates belonged to the goth subculture, but Gotham Academy’s dress code heavily limited such self-expression on campus. He guessed this girl was either really dedicated to the style or really dedicated to pissing off her parents. Maybe both.This had to be ‘Sam’.

“Besides, if Technus couldn’t ruin gaming for us no one else should either!” she continued.

“Fiiiiine,” Daniel sighed, clearly playing up his reluctance. “but if Amity gets attacked by an army of goblins next I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’!” He double checked the price tag. “Splitsies?”

The girl scoffed and plucked the case from his hand. “I’ll take this one, you can pay for lunch later. Why don’t you two go ahead to Pineapple Republic for those jeans you wanted? I’ll catch up to you.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks Sam!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, thanks Sam.”

“Go on, shoo!” she laughed and headed over to the cash register as the boys left the store. Making a split second decision, Damian grabbed a random game from the shelf and got in line behind Sam. He leaned slightly towards her, pretending to examine the figurines behind the counter and stealthily stuck a bug to her skirt. Now he could listen in on their conversation without having to risk being noticed.

After paying for his purchase he wandered off in the direction the other teens had taken. He would just have to leave the game somewhere ‘accidentally’ at the earliest opportunity. Pretending to check his phone he tuned his comm to the frequency of the new bug.

“...I think those are still a little short on you.” Sam said amusedly.

“Man, I’m glad I finally got my growth spurt, but having to replace most of my wardrobe is gonna be a pain in the ass!” Daniel complained.

“Look at it this way Danny, this could be your chance to branch out. A whole new style, a whole new you!” Sam countered enthusiastically.

Damian walked towards the source of the signal. He didn’t follow the trio directly into Pineapple Republic, instead heading into the shoe store across from the clothing store. Browsing there would let him keep an eye on the entrance.

“Let me guess, would this style include black, black and more black?” came Foley’s snarky voice.

“Black is timeless, I’ll have you know,” Sam sniffed in mock offense, “and Danny does look good in it. Just try it?”

“I don’t know Sam, I don’t wanna blow my allowance on clothes that don’t feel like me.”

“Oh! We could always try the thrift store, they have plenty of cool stuff! And upcycling is great for the environment.”

“Uh, hard pass,” came the flat reply, “I would like to survive the year with some of my dignity intact, please.”

“Yeah dude, if Dash and his cronies caught wind of Danny going to Goodwill or something they’d never let him live it down.”

“There is nothing wrong with buying second-hand!”

“Says the girl in $500 guaranteed cruelty free designer boots.” Foley shot back.

“That’s different!” Sam sputtered, “And besides, I don’t see why you still chase the approval of those jerks.”

“Easy guys, settle down,” Daniel said placatingly, “Sam, you know it’s different for us. You might be able to brush off Paulina’s snarky comments, but I can’t just brush off Dash trying to rearrange my face. I’d rather not paint an even bigger target on my back.”

Sam gave a loud sigh. “Ugh, stupid high school politics. I can’t wait to graduate.”

“I dunno, if things go according to plan you’ll have to deal with real politics, Ms Future Administrator of the EPA Manson.” Daniel teased.

“You mean Senator Manson.” Foley chimed in.

“Madam President Manson!”

“Stop it guys!” the girl laughed, “I’ll leave the political ass kissing to someone else. I just want to save the planet! But I gotta get my doctorate first.”

“Well if you do end up having to take over the country to do it, there’s one thing to keep in mind,” Foley said sagely, “You can’t be much worse than President Luthor.”

The two replied with fake gagging noises while Foley just snickered.

“But seriously, since you brought up mixing up my style… I was thinking of getting my ears pierced.” Daniel said hesitantly.

“Really? Ooh, do you want studs? Danglers? An industrial?” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Well… aw nuts.” Daniel’s voice was suddenly tense.

“You know what?” Sam rushed out, equally tense, “I think you should go and try these pants on. In the changing room. Right now.”

Damian frowned. What the hell had happened? He glanced out the shop window but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he heard distant screams and the sound of glass breaking. It’s almost like being back in Gotham.

Part 8

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #tucker foley #sam manson #help the length of this fic has run away from me #team phantom is 16 btw #damian is 12

327 notes · View notes

globalrebrand · 2 years

Note

Floyd, Jade, Leona and Malleus requests. They all have a good nose, how do they react when they smell S/o masturbating? in the end the smell gets stronger and s/o comes to orgasm (I leave it up to you if s/o ends up moaning their names)

When they walk in on you

Warnings: Not sfw, crack

A/N: This was not quite the prompt but I hope you still enjoy it.

Leona:

*sniff*

Ohhhhh...it's like that, is it herbivore? If he was a few rooms away Leona is now leaning with one elbow propped against your doorframe, smirking with obvious sultry intent.

He approaches the bed leisurely all while he teases you relentlessly. If you were watching something he asks what you were looking at and judges you so hard about it.

"That guy has nothing on me, wouldn't you rather have the real thing?" Grabs his crotch.

Gets deeply offended if you tell him to get out. "Oi, don't tell me to get out, I'm here to help."

Settles down next to you and knocks your hands away from your sex and starts pleasuring you himself, while bringing the same hand to his now rapidly hardening sex.

He helps you, you help him. Now take your top off and turn the porn back on.

Malleus:

Pouts. Why didn't you call him?

The minute he can smell you in a different part of the castle he immediately transports to your location looking sullen like a child who was told they can’t have ice cream.

He'll say something dramatic and whiny, "Dearest rose, do you have needs I cannot fulfill?" if he's being nice and if he's not he'll say, "I know that there are no needs you have that I cannot fulfill." 😡

Take you fingers out of/off of your bits and explain to him right now.

If you're using a toy he'll ask you about what technology you're using to replace him.

Promises he can serve you better. Drops to his knees and pulls you by your legs to the edge of your bed and situates himself between your thighs. You should be grateful, Malleus gets on his knees for no one else but you.

If you needed pleasure you should've come to him rather than relying on the futuristic contraption that he can't figure out how to turn off so he just breaks it

He can’t believe you of all people didn’t invite him to an important event (you getting off)

Jade:

Super stealthy, you won’t even notice him as he creeps into the space after his keen nose follows your increasing potent scent.

Jade could have been standing in the doorway for 2 minutes or 30, Silent and observent. When you finally notice him he’ll just chuckle sinisterly and tell you to keep going.

Don't mind if he pulls up a chair though, he wants a closer look.

Begins touching himself over his clothes as he tells you to give him a good show. Don't bore him now or Jade will have to take things into his own hands.

He tells you exactly what he would do to help you get off but doesn't bother to touch you.

"Your finger's don't reach there? What a shame. Mine would easily, I’d also suck on your chest while I played with you. That would sure make you come fast now wouldn’t it?😈”

If you want him to touch you you're going to have to beg and even then he’ll make you work for it.

Jade wants this orgasm to be such a laborious experience that you won’t fail to call him to assist you in the future, lest he subject you to the same pleasurable torture.

Floyd:

Awww he was here you know?

Stop it, don't do it while he's nearby. It's rude.

Sulks.

"You better ride me if you want me to forgive you, a blowjob at minimum"

He'll wait. Why aren't you servicing him yet? Curb stomps whatever sex toy you were using.

Sits in the edge of the bed pants around his ankles and dick out. Super impatient about it.

“Don’t make me come over the shrimpy, you made me horny now help me out.”

Ask him if he’ll help you out and he’ll say tell you only if you keep him motivated. Which means if you don’t cum first he’ll leave you high and dry, so get to it!

Vil:

Who told you that your orgasms were yours hmmm? Don't you know they belong to him?

You better not have been in the toy chest without his permission. You don't come unless he gives you permission.

*sigh* "I guess it's time for the belt."

Sometimes he'll spank you and be done with it but sometimes the belt, means chastity belt and he'll keep you locked up for as long as he sees fit, some times a day or more.

"I wasn't going to curse the toy chest but maybe I should if you can't respect the rules."

Curses it in the future so that if you try to open it and use one of the toys without him, you can't reach orgasm until you come to him.

If you want to come, you're going to have to beg. On your knees, clinging to his trousers. He'll make you do something demeaning like hump his foot to get off.

3K notes · View notes

piratefalls · 1 month

Text

i have no real opening remarks, so have some fic, mind the tags, and have a good day!

masterlist

did the light hit my blush (when i told you you could be enough?) by matherine

Henry wasn’t eavesdropping. Really, he wasn’t — he had just come home from work at the shelter early, toed off his shoes at the door, and began to settle in when he heard it. “No, Nora,” Alex’s voice groans, floating out into the hall from where his bedroom door must be cracked open. “I can’t tell if he’s just not interested or oblivious. I’ve used my whole arsenal of flirting and Henry’s completely unresponsive.” Or: Alex has been flirting for months. It’s not that Henry didn’t notice — it’s that he thought he couldn’t possibly mean it.

Only Fools by OrchidScript

Henry rolled his eyes. “No. You tell me — that sounds better — why I should bring my ex-hook up to my brother’s wedding?” Pez hummed and half-shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s the perfect thing to light your gran’s helmet of hair on fire.” Pez set his cup down and leaned forward onto the table. “That’s what Pip encouraged you to do, didn’t he?” “Martha more than Pip, but yes. He did.” Henry sighed. “Then ask Alex.” -- With his brother's wedding a few weeks away, Henry Fox is determined to not show up alone. Not wanting to ask a stranger, he instead turns to Alex, hoping to manufacture something believable from something familiar. Try as he might to keep a level head, Henry can't help falling in love with the man. Will it come around to bite him or will it turn into something more than he had hoped?

kitchen confidential by stutteringpeach

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” ~ Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.

Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) by affectionatelyrs

“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” - Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare

getting good now by Standinginmoonlight

Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.

A Sin Better Than Heaven by AnchoredArchangel

“Show me,” the king says, a demand. He sets the vial back down, careless to where it lands compared to where it originated. He leans back against the table, crosses his arms over his chest; chin raised, jaw set- a picture of regality. Henry’s heart is pounding in his chest, the unstable beat of too many horse hooves overlapping, like the canter through the woods that very afternoon before he was shoved from his saddle. For the first time, he considers the possibility that perhaps he had hit his head harder than he realized- against the ground or against the tree, because certainly his hope is misplaced; certainly he is not following this conversation as well as he presumed. “Show you what, Your Majesty?” The king only deigns to move a hand, untucking it from his elbow in order to wave it vaguely. “How your body responds to men.” Or: A criminally loose reimagining of the tent scene from Mary & George, only Alex is a sexually confused king, and Henry's the one who has been sent to seduce him.

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by anincompletelist

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

Silence & Sound by @nocoastposts

Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.

baby boy by smc_27

It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.

all so human with our guards down by maxbegone

“Constant fear is debilitating,” Alex tells him later on. The sun has risen, though it’s barely prominent through the dark clouds in the sky. “Even in the world we live in now, you need to find the things that make it feel…normal.” Of course, Alex isn’t even sure that makes much sense, and he thinks about doubling back on what he just said with something stupid and word-vomitty, whatever pops into his head first, but Henry beats him to it. Much more suitable, and it puts Alex’s mind at ease: “I’m starting to think you’re right.” The world ended three years ago. No more all-night study sessions, no more drag brunch and mimosas, no more societal expectations. But out of everything Alex was expecting from an apocalypse, Henry sure as hell wasn't it.

Dallas, Texas by annesbonny

i thought I knew hopelessness. i thought I'd learned its specific dread years ago There's an assassination attempt on Ellen, Henry is caught up in the damage. Alex is... coping about as well as you would expect.

Best Practice in Sexual Favours by everwitch

They meet at a bar. Alex is young; fresh out of law school, sharp and charismatic and oh-so attractive. The sex is absolutely incredible, and Henry has no regrets. At least not until the morning after when he finds himself opposite Alex in a meeting — equipped with the painful knowledge that Alex’s boss thinks Alex’s only function in said meeting is to sit there and look all pretty. Somebody ought to call HR right about now. Or: when sexual relationships mix with professional ones, Alex and Henry make the most of it.

this is the first time I've felt the need to confess by theprinceandagcd

Alex frantically unlocks his phone and stares at their text thread, at the heart reaction that Henry had left on his most recent message. His thumbs hover uselessly over his screen, trembling as moisture burns his vision. The entire room is thick with uneasiness, heavy enough that it’s hard to breathe, and Alex wants to tell Henry something, wants to reach out and find the solace that Henry so often offers him without even realizing it. But mostly, as his brain finally catches up to what’s actually happening, all Alex can think is that he doesn’t want to die. He tries to come up with a list of reasons why in his head, a comprehensive one that probably should include family and career goals and a million other things, but in the end, in the moment, all he can fucking think about is Henry.

out of the kitchen by rizcriz

Alex looks to his right where Henry’s standing at his own door. Any moment now, Gordon Ramsay is going to tell them to turn the handle and one of them is going to cascade into a new life. He doesn't care if his door doesn’t open; in fact, he’d rather it didn’t. He’s come all this way, he’s proven himself as a chef, but there’s no denying that the man beside him was made for this role. For the last five weeks, he’s watched as Henry’s given his all to every challenge and dinner service. -- or, the Hell's Kitchen au literally nobody asked for.

i love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard) by coffeecatsme

Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.

Fragile Things by SatinBirds

Alex does not scare easily. But the moment he sees Henry fall, all breath leaves his body at once.

Trim my Christmas tree by clottedcreamfudge

Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway. Ho ho ho.

All Kinds of Wounds by allmylovesatonce

It throws Alex off when it takes longer for the door to close, when he hears Henry’s footsteps but doesn’t hear him approaching. As he listens closer, there are steps on the stairs and eventually the sound of feet on the second floor. Henry avoided him. Henry gets hurt at the shelter and tries to hide it from Alex.

blurred lines by seafloor

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

keep me up all night/ i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges. Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything. Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb. “Get on the couch.”

Voted most likely to run away with you by dreamsinthewitchouse

Alex drifts into consciousness in a bed full of tangled limbs and warm, sleep-rumpled skin. He’s lying half on his stomach and half on his side, the shoulder smushed against the bed protesting in a way that tells him he’s going to have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day. But fuck if he cares, with Henry stirring next to him, one of his long legs draped over the back of Alex’s thigh. Alex doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the room is hazy with filtered sunlight, spilling pale yellow through the carelessly drawn curtains.

everything just stops by HypnosTheory

Alex hums, pushing his nose into the side of Henry’s cock. “Let me give you your gift, Hen.” “You’ve already given me my gift,” Henry says, fingers tightening on the edge of the countertop. “Twice.” Alex laughs and takes Henry’s cock back into his mouth. Henry keens, knees shaking. He’s oversensitive already; Alex woke him up with a hand on his cock, and then in the shower surprised him with three fingers against his prostate. Each orgasm was greeted with a happy birthday, baby, which is a phrase that’s starting to have a Pavlovian response on Henry. --- Alex gives Henry all the birthday orgasms - Henry believes turnabout is fair play.

the wrong place by congee4lunch

“I don’t want you, I don’t want anything to do with you, Alexander,” Henry breathes out, his breath ghosting over Alex’s lips. “I just want to feel good.” “Perfect,” Alex grins. “I want the exact same thing, Fox.” henry and alex hate each other. when they're forced to share a hotel room and a bed for a night, they fuck about it.

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here. “And if you only hold me tight…” A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Late Bloomer by @sparklepocalypse

Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. So Alex is sixteen, and he’s… a boy. That’s it. Just a boy. Not a boy and an alpha like his friend Marco, or a boy and an omega like his friend Noah. Just a boy.

living in a new normal by @forever-fixating

Henry Fox could write an entire dissertation based on how much information his twin nieces Penelope and Grace have told him about their favorite band, Austin Heat. The girls peppered him with neverending facts since he surprised them with tickets and meet-and-greet passes to their concert at Madison Square Garden last Christmas. -- Henry Fox takes his nieces to a concert of their favorite band, Austin Heat. He gets a bit more than he bargained for when he meets singer and guitarist Alex Claremont-Diaz.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists!

tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

#rwrb #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince #firstprince fic #red white and royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alexhenry #firstprince fanfiction

111 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 8 months

Text

Excerpt from the next chapter of "think pink", a.k.a "Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it":

Kon flies into Gotham as surreptitiously as possible, meaning "as thoroughly concealed by the smog and cloud cover as possible", which given the amount of smog and cloud cover usually works out pretty well for him. Today's definitely no less cloudy than usual, and he's landing in the marina in no time. Well–specifically, he's landing in a subtle little out-of-the-way corner of the marina that Tim's previously pointed out to him where his neighbors probably won't notice either a Superboy or a Wonder Girl coming down.

Probably.

Eh, it's whatever. If they notice, Kon'll handle it. Not like he's not used to lying to Gothamites about what the fuck he's doing in their city and why they shouldn't flip the Batsignal over it, after all.

Not that said lies always keep the Batsignal from getting flipped, but still. It's been like fifty-fifty.

Well, sixty-forty . . . ?

Maybe seventy-thirty.

Kon waits 'til nobody's immediately around and super-speeds his ass across the dock to Tim's houseboat. There's an unnecessary amount of security on the thing because Tim is a paranoid little freak and a half and every single Bat alive is literally made of trust issues, but he already knows there's nothing that'll clock him on the deck. Well, nothing aggressive, anyway.

This ain't his first Bat-rodeo, and all that.

He punches in the code for the lock on the door, and the code for the other lock on the door, and the code that'll keep the needles covered in neurotoxin from spraying into his face when he opens said door. They wouldn't actually hurt him, obviously, but Tim would get annoyed if he wasted them.

He seriously wonders how the guy was ever under the impression that Bernard didn't know he was a superhero, but he guesses it's possible Tim assumed his boytoy thought he was, like, somebody's evil henchman or a merc or something.

Or just literally insane. Whichever.

And it is Gotham.

The door swings open, Kon very carefully steps on the correct floorboard, and then he slips inside and heads down into the bowels of the boat, or whatever the inside of a houseboat is called. It's a little cluttered down here but not quite a mess, and Kon's been here as many times as Tim's been willing to let him come but still not nearly often enough.

He has an odd, random thought of just staying, for once, and isn't quite sure where it came from. Which–well, he's staying for the weekend at least, right? Assuming the world doesn't try to end again, anyway.

So maybe not so random.

Sometimes Kon really does want to just hang in Gotham with Tim until Batman runs him out of town, but he never pushes it that far. He doesn't want to deal with that fallout or with Tim coming up to him to tell him he's being too much or too needy or just fucking weird or . . .

Yeah. Well.

Kon cracks into Tim's fridge and steals a can of Zesti. He's a little more of a Soder guy, at least lately, but it tastes better coming out of Tim's fridge anyway. It makes him feel kind of like a normal guy who just goes over to his normal buddies' places to do normal things–whatever those are–and has normal permission to just rifle through their normal food and take whatever.

Technically Kon has permission, in the sense that Tim's never rigged the Zesti to explode in his face, but he's never actually explicitly asked. He wasn't really sure if that was one of those things that normal people ask or one of those things that normal people just do, and now it's a little late to check, so . . .

Kon's life experience has been fucking weird and wildly varied and stupidly fragmented and generally speaking he just begs forgiveness rather than ever ask permission. He's a grown-ass clone, he can do that.

Okay, he's technically only physiologically a grown-ass clone but also he's arguably over a thousand years old, or maybe more like four or five, so whatever. Being a superclone is weird and confusing and his point stands.

Kon sips his stolen Zesti and wanders around the boat, idly avoiding assorted traps and tripwires. He doesn't go into the bedroom, although it's kinda tempting to just go wait in there, possibly without the company of any of his clothes.

He wants to talk to Tim at least a bit before they go full long weekend on this situation, though, and also like . . . meet Bernard as an actual person and not just a voice over the phone or that one random disgustingly cute couple-selfie that Tim had very dorkily and shyly and grudgingly shared in the group chat the last time Bart had actually won a bet against him.

That stupid selfie was adorable. Kon had absolutely saved it and is not a weirdo who just randomly looks at it sometimes. There's a lot of stuff like that on his phone, alright, he's got a whole folder of "shit to look at when the world sucks". Most of it's Krypto being dumb and sweet or the team messing around and being silly together or stuff like that. The one disgustingly cute Tim and Bernard selfie is a mere footnote in that folder.

But it is in that folder.

Like . . . of course it is.

Kon thinks about pulling out his phone and looking at that picture again. He's aware it's a weird thought to be having right now, though, so he doesn't act on it. Kon operates on instinct a lot but he doesn't necessarily trust all his instincts, given his thoroughly fucked up socialization experience and random mind control triggers and the biological influence of a certain gene donor who shall not be named.

Kon hears a pair of accelerated heartbeats approach the boat and feels two people step onto and hurry across the deck above, one's footsteps significantly louder than the other's. He hears a lot of buttons get pushed. Then the door at the top of the stairs yanks open and he glances towards it. Either Tim or a very convincing evil doppelganger of Tim is standing framed in the doorway, looking very slightly flustered and just barely winded. Bernard is clustered up behind him and laughing, and much more winded himself.

Well, that's flattering.

"Hey there," Kon says, and grins up at them.

"We need to establish boundaries, hard no's, and safewords," Tim says immediately, absolute freak that he is. Kon is not even slightly surprised.

"God, you really do just look like that, huh," Bernard marvels, his eyebrows shooting up. He's even cuter when he's not being a cell phone pic, and especially cuter when Kon's being gay. Unsurprisingly, Kon figures. "I always assumed a whole lot of really skilled Photoshop was involved in you. Or at least a whole lot of real good makeup and real precise angles."

"He's annoyingly photogenic, actually, you don't even have to try to make him look good," Tim informs him resignedly. "So you can imagine how he looks when you do try."

"That's a terrifying thought, actually," Bernard says approvingly.

"Safewords, huh?" Kon says as he sets aside his mostly-empty Zesti, not even pretending not to be preening under the compliments. So he's easy; at least he's self-aware. "That sounds promising."

"You were talking about some guy putting you in a collar and keeping you as a pet," Tim says flatly. "We definitely need safewords, I might get carried away."

"Promises, promises," Kon hums, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets and sauntering towards the bottom of the stairs with a wolfish grin that he may or may not have learned from an actual wolf. Like, just speaking of certain beast-men that he's known and all. "I told you, I was feral then. You know I'll be a good boy for you, Rob."

"Ohhhhh we've sure gotten ourselves into something here, huh, babe," Bernard says with a delighted grin as Tim puts a hand over his face and just sort of . . . exhales in that one specific way that he does when it's all going to shit in a fight or on a mission and he just needs to steady himself for that one second before the doors blow in.

Kon likes that, he thinks.

He really likes that, actually.

#timberkon #timber #timkon #konbernard #kon el #tim drake #bernard dowd #superboy #dc robin #rinfic #not sfw #considering the bit of kinkster talk and all lol #long post #wip: think pink

327 notes · View notes

missingexaltation · 2 years

Text

How Eddie wins over Mr Harrington (by barely trying)

(in ten simple-ish steps)

Basically, how I imagine Steve's dad to be. I kind of think they have more in common than they don't, and maybe his son being queer is the *kick* that he needs to be a better human being (just like Nancy was for Steve).

Richard Harrington unexpectedly comes home from a business trip to find his son in flagrante delicto on his couch with an immediately antagonistic young man, (Edward, he later discovers), he waits in the kitchen, seething with disappointment and rage. Steven takes his things and leaves without a word, leaving the Munson boy to very purposefully throw Steven's house key at Richard's feet, keeping eye contact as he does so. The disrespect is blinding, and that night Richard drowns his anger in whiskey.

Days later his son comes home to collect his remaining belongings, supported by the Munson boy and his uncle. Wayne Munson is a enigma; on the one hand, clearly a soft liberal, but also a no-nonsense, sensible veteran with family values. Edward doesn't acknowledge Richard at all, too focused on guarding Steven from him. He watches his son cry like a child in the backseat, half listens as Wayne encourages him to keep in contact, and inwardly flinches when he sees Edward glare at him through the car window. He's not sure why his chest aches. Steven chose this path, he tells himself. Steven chose this.

Richard returns again to Hawkins, some weeks later, detouring past the store his son works in. He finds himself parked opposite, watching as Steven dances childishly with a female colleague through the shop windows. He's smiling and laughing and Richard's chest aches again. The passenger door opens and that boy gets in without permission. 'Stevie doesn't need you', he says, bold as brass in leather and covered in tattoos and chains, 'but he'll forgive you if you ask'. It hurts, and the only way Richard can breathe again is to invite them both to dinner later in the week. The subtle relief on Edward's face is immediate, and Richard hates himself a little less, though he's not sure why. He spends the drive home wondering at what point his son's life became unknowable.

Dinner starts awkwardly. Steven barely speaks, but Edward refuses to be quiet. He's a vocal young man, argumentative and strangely principled. They have polar opposite opinions on politics, and while Edward's not shy about his opinions, Richard is more than his equal on the topic. It's the sort of conversation Richard enjoys, trading viewpoints and internalising their differences. The evening ends on a warmer note as both Steven and Edward shake his hand as they leave. Formal. It's only a few steps to the car, but he notes that the boys hold hands nonetheless, as his wife tightly holds his. Middle ground, he thinks. They're not condoning the relationship of course, but accepting it for now. There's time for Steven to come to his senses.

Richard next meets Edward when he has to visit Thatcher's. His driver side tyre has a slow puncture, and although Edward's working on another customer's car he swaps with a colleague so he can see what the issue is. A simple 'he's Stevie's dad' gets him a family discount, and Edward changes the tyre himself when it's deemed too damaged to repair. As he works, Richard learns through his unending monologue that this job is temporary, as Edward's internship at the tattoo parlour doesn't pay, and won't for at least another year, that he needs the money now, as he and Steven are saving for their own place. Richard's immediate instinct is to give them the money himself, but knows it wouldn't be accepted. He takes comfort that Steven's in good hands at least. The Munsons seem to be a practical, friendly people.

Weeks later, when he's back in Hawkins again, he bumps into Edwards uncle, who's insistent on getting coffee and clearing the air. Richard guiltily confesses he's not comfortable with the idea of his son being one of them, that he's not sure he ever will be. Wayne simply points out that at least he's trying, and to keep trying. Apparently Edward's father didn't even do that much. Richard later relays the encounter to his wife, of how overtly proud Wayne is of Edward (my Eddie, he'd said). Richard's not felt proud of Steven for a few years now, only infuriated that he's intent on throwing his life away, but Wayne had plenty of happy stories of him too. As parents, they feel equally guilty and spend the evening drinking and reminiscing on Steven's childhood. It feels like they're reminding themselves of their son more with every day that passes.

He's still in town on the following Tuesday evening, and decides to take Wayne up on his offer and visit the bar that he recommended. He discovers that Edward's a talented musician. Even if it's far too aggressive and loud for Richard's own tastes, there's dedication, commitment and passion in each of the boys on the stage. He remembers his own music idols, how passionately they preached against the war in Vietnam, and he wonders when exactly it was that he stopped noticing the injustices of the world, when it was that his business suits became a comfort instead. He's quickly cornered by Wayne, Jim Hopper and David Jones ('my son's on the drums', he says, proudly). But they're all proud of their boys, he adds, and equally appalled by their music tastes. He goes on to say that the parents take it in turns to keep an eye on the boys each week, after what happened earlier in the year. Richard's in utter shock after hearing that there was a murderer on the loose not long ago, and plans to stay in town more after hearing that both boys were involved. He's clearly out of place and out of touch, but they're kind enough to not mention it. He buys the drinks for the remainder of the night, as penance. He has nothing else to offer, but hopes that's enough to start. His son could have died.

As is habit now, when he's in town, Richard drives past the video store to glimpse his son through the window. Further down the street he catches Edward balancing takeaway coffees whilst trying to open the door to the tattoo parlour. It takes moments to pull over and offer his assistance, and it hurts when Edward is surprised by the gesture. Richard's invited into the shop, and although Edward's busy, 'of course he has time for his father in law'. The phrase knocks him emotionally off balance, but Edward doesn't notice, simply updating him on their house hunt, and inviting them to the house warming, pending Stevie's approval. He shakes Edward's hand when he leaves, and when he turns back to his car, notices Steven quietly watching him from the window of his store. He waves, and after a moment his son waves back. He's alive, and there's hope, at least.

He and Kathleen invite the boys and Wayne over for dinner. He sees Steven smiling in the car as they arrive, and although it's faded by the time Richard opens the door, it returns tenfold when he shakes Edward's hand and greets him with 'hello son'. Richard's still very much uncomfortable (especially with how 'hands on' Edward seems to be) and if he finds himself in the kitchen knocking back a few more drinks than usual then it's his own business. It's worth it at the end of the night, when Steven invites them to their housewarming, and actually seems to want them there. He feels Wayne's approval through their goodbye handshake, and it makes him feel as though he's on the right path.

Jim Hopper lets them in through the front door. It's a small house, clean and characterless, and full of people Richard doesn't know. In the yard, Steven's at the grill with some other boys his age, and Edward is in the middle of the lawn, spinning a curly-haired teenager around like he weighs nothing. They look happy. Settled. Edward spots them first, waves them over and starts introducing them to the other adults. Steven brings them drinks, is beaming behind his sunglasses. (He can't remember the last time Steven smiled at him.) Hours later, when they leave, Edward shakes his hand and thanks them for coming (for trying, but that's unspoken), and Steven hugs him for the first time in so, so long, burying his head in Richard's shoulder like he used to as a child. Kathleen cries on the drive home, and he's not much better, but they're happy tears. He's a slow learner, Kathy too, but they're learning.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #i dunno...i just like the idea that both Steve and his dad are passively bigoted until their beliefs are challenged...then they change #season 1!Steve was an ass...if he hadn't had his lightbulb moment he could have ended up just like his parents IMO #Eddie is the catalyst...the opposite of what Mr Harrington stands for & challenges every one of Mr Harrington's principles just by existing #might actually write this one out long style as i have so many thoughts #wayne munson #Wayne Munson carefully 'gentle parenting' the Harringtons is also kinda hilarious ngl #tw: mild homophobia #i also don't know why Richard fits...maybe because it's usually shortened to 'Dick' and he really does seem like one in canon

1K notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 8 months

Note

Congratulations on 3k!!! You deserve all of that and more!!! Thank you for all your hard work and excellent writing!!! <3

Can I request a midnights (from the vault) ticket with either Matthew or Frank (up to you because for the life of me I couldn’t decided. I feel it fits Matt better but Frank is my number 1 boy 🥴) with the quote “You, you love it how I move you. You love it how I touch you. My one, when all is said and done. You'll believe God is a woman”

oh nonnie, i know frank is your main guy, but this song is so matty coded

and y'all know i love some good slutty religious imagery

thank you so much for stopping by the tour!!! 🖤

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

god is a woman (matt's version) (from the vault)*

when all is said and done / you’ll believe god is a woman

Matt didn’t think it was humanly possible to feel this way. He was suspended in a delectable juxtaposition of his body feeling so tightly wound up, but also so completely free despite his righteous fists being pinned to the mattress above his head. His pleas for mercy got mistranslated on their journey from his brain to his tongue and ended up becoming repetitive prayers for more.

But you didn’t punish the Devil for his greed.

Instead, you granted him exactly what he asked for.

After all, he’d been such a good boy. Matt never hesitated to drop to his knees to beg for your forgiveness when another late night turned into another early morning with cold, empty sheets. He often sought retribution at the altar between your thighs, confessing his sins with his wicked tongue tracing each letter of his prayer of penance against your clit. He’d stay on his knees and worship you for as long as you could stand it, and then he’d seek communion in your body, and only when you baptized his greedy cock with the pure essence that flooded from your temple did he finally feel forgiven.

But tonight, you weren’t waiting for Matt to attend worship on his own. You were demanding it.

The fucked out look on Matt’s face as you rode his cock and held his strong hands captive, rendering him fully at your mercy, sent a surge of power through your veins. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, the most feared man in the city, was writhing and whimpering beneath you, begging and pleading, and it made you feel like a God.

Moving your hips in slow, purposeful circles, you elicited the most beautiful hymn from Matt’s lips. He was so close to escaping purgatory, the entrance to the heaven within you dangling in front of him like enticing forbidden fruit. An angelic note of faux sympathy sounded from your lips as you stared down at him.

“You need it, don’t you baby?”

Every single one of Matt’s senses were completely overstimulated, and he was nearly on the verge of tears, he was so desperate. His blank hazel eyes stared up in your direction as if you were the heavens, and his kiss bitten plump lips were parted as he panted, calling out your name over and over like you were the only deity he could remember the name of. He prayed harder to you than he had ever prayed for anything in his entire life. He needed you to grant him permission to the Eden within your walls.

“pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

A deviant grin stretched across your lips watching your Devil fall from grace.

“Let me have it, Matty. Give it all to me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and you knew he would. Matt was devoutly and irrevocably yours; body and soul.

And at that moment, his God was a woman, and it was you.

#court's 3k followers celebration #court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version)#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock request #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil request #daredevil blurb #daredevil smut

158 notes · View notes

ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Alcina breastfeeding fussy Y/N

Y/N is fussy and Alcina makes them feel better. In this one, there is an established little and caregiver relationship between Y/N and Alcina, but she has never broached the subject of nursing them. Let’s get into it!

You’ve been sick for a few days now. At first, you just had a sore throat and a stuffy nose, but now you’re running a high fever and Alcina can’t get you to eat anything.

She is beside herself with worry. She’s tried giving you cool baths but your shivering becomes violent. She gives you medicine but you always spit it up. It’s truly heartbreaking for her. The girls often force her to go eat and rest while they watch you for a bit. But, Alcina is never gone for more than ten minutes at a time.

You’re also now firmly in your little space (When you’re awake, that is). You’re so restless and no matter how long you sleep, you don’t feel rested. Alcina can’t communicate with you. It makes it difficult for her to know what you want. She’s only been able to anticipate your needs because of her natural maternal instincts.

Thankfully, Alcina has found that giving you your pacifier to suck on is very soothing. When you wake up and begin to wail, this is the only way she is able to get you to drastically calm down. She then capitalizes on this momentum and sings you right back to sleep.

Finally, Alcina can’t wait any longer to see if your body can quell the fever on its own. She’s got to do something. So, she makes an important decision. She is actually able to produce breast milk. She’s had this ability since the cadou implantation. She reasons that it has something to do with her rapid regeneration, but she’s too mortified at the thought of Mother Miranda finding out to ask her why she can do it.

Alcina feels in her heart that this will help (Plus, she’s pretty desperate). She experiences a rare brush of embarrassment as she holds you closer and looks down at you. She’s… Actually wanted to do this with you for a while now, but has not been able to work up the courage to ask you yet. She hopes you will forgive her for not getting your permission to do this.

Alcina coos sadly at you as you furiously suck your pacifier in your sleep. She gently runs her fingers through your sweat-soaked hair and you begin to stir at her actions. You open your eyes blearily and see Alcina.

“Hi, baby.” She says quietly as she smiles in reassurance.

Alcina’s voice relaxes you… So you immediately try to fall back asleep.

“Oh, wait a second, my darling.” Alcina says before you can nuzzle back into her. She hates to do it, but she gently tugs your pacifier out of your mouth.

The betrayal on your sweet face rips Alcina to shreds. You begin crying loudly at her actions.

Alcina can’t stand to hear you so upset about something that she’s done. You don’t understand that she’s trying to help you and that just makes her feel guilty. It shatters her to know that right now you think she’s just being unfair. She gently rocks you as she lowers her nightgown to free her heavy breasts. “I’m sorry, baby.” She says. “Mama’s trying to make you feel better.” She tells you and places a soft kiss on your head as she repositions you. “Here we go, baby.” She says and finally places her nipple into your mouth. She hopes this doesn’t make things worse than they already are.

Your little eyes are clenched shut as tears pour down your cheeks, however… Wait, what is this? Your crying halts and you open your eyes again to see that you are latched onto Alcina’s breast.

Alcina strokes your face gently. “It’s okay, baby. Mama loves you so much. Try to eat for me, draga.” She says.

You suckle tentatively. This isn’t your pacifier, but… It’s actually a little better. You begin to suckle more to calm yourself down, but suddenly, you taste something delicious. Sweet milk trickles into your mouth. It feels so good on your parched tongue and throat. You start drinking faster as you close your eyes and feel relaxed for the first time in days.

Alcina gasps at both the relief of her breasts emptying a bit and at you drinking. She’s proud that she can provide nourishment for your tiny body. “Good job, baby. It’s all for you. Mama is so proud.” She says and nuzzles her face against yours.

You feel your labored breathing get slower and you’re not as achy as you were a minute ago. Your mama is healing and she’ll make sure you’re okay.

Alcina smiles and begins to rock you. “You will feel a lot better now, baby.” She promises.

She begins to purr lowly.

The gentle vibrations and hum in Alcina’s chest are pulling you into a dreamless slumber. Although, this time it feels more restorative.

“I love you, draga. So, so much.” She whispers. “I’m right here, my darling. Rest and feel better.” She tells you as she enjoys the feeling of you nursing. This is her new favorite thing.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #age regression #nonsexual age regression #re8 shitpost #breastfeeding #lactation

56 notes · View notes

j4mergy · 11 months

Text

| SAGAU Idea |

You were a simple highschooler, on your way home after a stressful day in school now free from dealing with annoying classmates and nagging teachers.

You’d say that you couldn’t wait to go home to watch anime and play games but honestly, you haven’t played an actual game in months and you’re too unmotivated to dedicate yourself to finish a single episode of any anime that you’re interested in. Tiktok seriously ruined your attention span.

On your way home though, up in the heavens where you’re pretty sure majority of the population believes it doesn’t even exist beyond mythology, were two gods having a banter that escalated into a stupid fight that the other gods and goddesses that bear witness to it thought they were dumb enough to fight in a good day like this.

In the middle of the fight, one of the gods flung a magic attack at his opponent and missed. While the other god laughed, the attack was flung so strong that it flew past the heavens and into the mortal realm, falling as fast as the speed of light towards your direction.

You thought you heard a small thunder, and before you could think about it you felt pain searing on the side of your head for a second before you blacked out.

---

Zeus was alarmed by the sounds of gods and goddesses creating a commotion because one of the gods that fought let an unsuspecting human get involved in it after centuries of agreeing to not do anything to directly involve the mortal realm.

Watching the god beg for forgiveness after being shamed by almost everyone, Zeus interrupted and asked the god to go to the underworld where your soul resides and with Hades’ permission, grant you anything with the god’s abilities to make up for his mistake.

The god thanked Zeus profusely and immediately left for the underworld.

---

When you tried to open your eyes, your vision was all blurry and you couldn’t feel any of your limbs. You could barely hear two voices talking, one with a slightly nervous voice that sounded like it was bargaining while the other only sounded exasperated and left the next thing you knew.

When you were about to close your eyes, you heard the one that sounded nervous getting closer and trying to encourage you to open your eyes and stay awake. You were trying, and you almost felt grateful for how caring the voice was until you felt two large hands firmly gripping your arms to shake you awake, making you agitated when you finally regained your vision.

When you looked up, you didn’t know whether to simp at the glorious sight or scream in terror that the large man in front of you might have knocked you out and kidnapped you.

While you stared at him agape, the large man coughed on his fist and collected himself before finally introducing himself.

He introduced himself as a god from olympus and might have ended your life while fighting with a fellow god. Apologizing to you for his grievous mistake, with a chance from Zeus, he can grant you new life in another world to find a new and better purpose because he believes that the way you’re living right now has no purpose and is very boring. Therefore, he will give you a new life of adventure and be more productive than your past life!

But you didn’t listen past when he referred to himself as a god, you weren’t religious in any way and you didn’t know if you should apologize for doubting their existence or believe that he’s just a delusional lunatic and that you should run away.

Before you could make a move, a large hand gripped your head while he was picking a world to place you in.

“Ahh…I heard mortals are interested in these isekai plots where they got transported into their favorite game or novel…should I just view any recent games you’ve played or an anime you’ve watched?”

‘What the hell is this guy saying???’ you thought as you listened to him murmuring to himself. Then he suddenly made a ‘aha!’ sound before turning to you.

“I’ve found a perfect world for you! You haven’t played it in a long while but with how much work you gotta put to survive there you’ll definitely be more hardworking and productive there!” The self-proclaimed god nodded to himself.

Suddenly, a small golden ring portal appeared from the bottom of your feet, moving up to consume your being from below with the hand gripping your head preventing you from moving or speaking.

“Have fun living in a new but familiar world, human! I think this is a pretty great compensation for accidentally killing you, riiiiight?” he giggled as the ring portal consumed more and more of you.

With only half of your head left, you glared at the god and thought, ‘Dude, fuck you.’ before feeling like you were freefalling to your doom.

---

They had done it, they saved Dvalin from the control of the Abyss Order and in addition saved Mondstat. Aether, Paimon, Diluc, Jean and Venti rode on Dvalin’s back as they made their way back to the City of Freedom.

As Venti blessed the dragon with the power of the Anemo Archon, Paimon saw a kind of dark object falling from the sky way above them

“Traveler, look! There’s something falling over there!” Paimon pointed out with a shout.

Everyone glanced to where Paimon was pointing, and there was in fact something falling. That something being a human being.

Venti quickly told Dvalin to get closer to the person falling and the dragon listened with no hesitation as Paimon and the others watched worriedly and confusedly on how a person with unusual clothes got high up in the sky to fall from there?

Once they neared the person, Aether caught them and held them closer to prevent them from falling off of his grasp. Everyone went closer to see you, passed out in the travelers arms wearing unusual clothes. They had so many questions, but they were all not in the state and the perfect location to question a knocked out stranger.

For now, they should go back home safe and sound and give you proper treatment from a scary experience before questioning you when you wake up.

#genshin impact #fanfic #genshin impact x reader #sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #x reader

177 notes · View notes

wukong-s-only-wife5000 · 6 months

Note

could u pls do a first time meeting with Monkey King Reborn pls? I love ur work 💜💜

It's shit like this that'll make me cry. Thank you so much, and thanks for the request! Decided to make this a Reborn Wukong x chubby female reader! Hope you don't mind.

________________________________________________________

Monkey King Reborn: First Meeting.

The council couldn't have chosen anyone else? Why'd you have to get dragged in with the monk to get whatever it was he was sent for? No, no, better question, COULDN'T THEY HAVE TOLD YOU THAT BEFORE HE LEFT?! Now you were on a journey alone to try to catch up with the monk that had four days ahead of you, so that was proving… tiresome.

“How far can a monk get in just four days?” you grumbled to yourself as you tucked some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear to get it out of your face.

You'd spent two days trying to catch up to the monk, but it was proving to be a tedious task. Of course, you weren't going to give up, the higher-ups would tear you a new one if you gave up on the mission they ‘blessed’ you with. So, you marched on, asked around and tried to keep your head up.

You tried to think of the bright sides… Well, the only one you could really think of was finally getting out of that temple and away from those people. The fresh air was nice, but the endless walking wasn't what you were expecting when you were told you had a mission.

“Wait, is that them?” you thought to yourself aloud when you saw a group up ahead. You didn't know who the monk was supposed to be accompanied by, but you’d recognize him anywhere.

Finally! You thought to yourself as you willed your body into a jog, holding your chest as you did so it didn't bounce too much.

“Wait!” you tried to get their attention, which worked faster than you thought it would. When you finally caught up to them, you were breathing heavily and barely able to catch your breath. You were met with a stick in your face.

“Who are you?” who you recognized as the Monkey King questioned in a growl.

“Lady (Y/n)?” the monk surprisingly recognized you, making the monkey stand down. Once they’d settled, you introduced yourself to the four demons the monk had travelling with him.

Why does he need me if he has the four of them? You thought to yourself in annoyance.

“(Y/n) (L/n), I was sent to accompany you on your journey to the West to collect the Buddhist scriptures,”

“Forget it,” Wukong said almost immediately.

“Excuse me?” you looked at the demon who spoke as he eyed you as well with a raised brow.

“I said no,” he said.

“I wasn't asking your permission,” you stated.

“Wukong,” the monk chastised. “Forgive him, lady (Y/n),” the monk bowed in respect.

“It’s just (Y/n),” you told him. “I was sent to join you in your journey to the West, and that is what I plan to do,”

“Forget it,” ‘Wukong’ repeated sternly.

“Wukong,”

“I wasn't asking your permission,” you repeated as well.

“You can go back to whatever temple you came from. We already have two weights, we don't need another,”

“Did you just call me fat to my face?” you raised a brow. His eyes widened slightly, and he snarled in your face, his breath smelling of fruit.

“You know that's not what I meant!” he snapped.

“Hm,” you folded your arms and closed your eyes as you let out a heavy and defeated sigh. This could only be handled one way. “Since I'm such a heavy burden for you to bear, I’ll go,” you said simply and turned on your heel before starting to walk off.

“Wukong,” Tang said in a warning tone.

“Master, we don't need anyone else travelling with us,” he tried to persuade his master against letting you join.

“She has already come all this way on direct orders. She will be joining us, go apologize to her at once,” Tang ordered, making him groan, but follow behind you.

“Hey, sh- girl,” he called as he walked beside you.

“Come to call me short as well?” you glanced at him. He glared at you, mostly because he was going to call you shorty instead of girl. “You wanted something?” you raised a brow as you eyed the… fairly attractive specimen before you.

“I'm…” he physically struggled to speak.

“You're…?” you encouraged him to continue, wanting to hear him say it.

“Sorry…” he said, very strained and soft.

“Pardon?” you tilted your head a bit. It's not that you didn't hear him, you heard him loud and clear… you just wanted to make him suffer for indirectly calling you short and fat. You didn't deserve to be called out like that by someone like him.

“I said I'm sorry, alright?!” he snapped, which surprised you.

“Kay,” you rubbed your chin and bottom lip to feel you were smirking. “I was taught that any man willing to put aside his pride to apologize deserves forgiveness, so your apology is accepted,”

“Now that we’re past that, let’s go,”

“Oh?” that smirk still playing on your lips that irked him.

“Your masters told you to join us, didn't they? Let's.go.” he seethed, much to your amusement.

I like this one… you thought to yourself in amusement.

“Right,” you nodded and simply followed behind him. “What was your name again?” you questioned from behind him, trying to remember what the monk had called him.

“Sun Wukong,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Right, right. The so-called Monkey and Demon King, the ‘Great Sage Equal to Heaven’. Your mess with the Jade Emperor was a cleaning job for lesser deities like me, so thanks for that.”

“Any time,” it was his turn to smirk at you, which of course irked you.

“What possessed you to do such a thing anyway?” you questioned as you walked beside him, but the only response you got was a huff.

“There they are,” you looked ahead to see the other three approaching.

“Please forgive my-”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off as you traced your bottom lip slightly. “We have a long journey, let’s get moving.”

“Yes, of course,” the monk agreed with an amused smile.

The other three demons had introduced themselves to you. The pig, Zhu Bajie or ‘Pigsy’, was ‘trying his hand’ with you, much to your disgust. Luckily, Wukong pulled him away from you by his ear and said that you weren't interested, which you definitely weren't, but you thought speaking your mind might be a bit hurtful.

All in all… this trip was already shaping up to be a trip to remember. For better or worse? Well, that was still a work in progress.

#request #x reader #monkey king #sun wukong #wukong #reborn sun wukong #reborn #monkey king reborn #reborn wukong

102 notes · View notes

beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Note

Mix and Match Blurb Submission (from a new fan!) Rooster/Dealer's Choice/Piano (or alternatively, aviators, because why the hell not?)/"I'm not sorry."

Welcome, welcome! I'm so glad you're here!

This one was tough, but I hope you like it! It's a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst. I may revisit this prompt in the future, for sure.

-----

And I'd Do It All Again

You’re sitting at the piano bench, your fingers ghosting along the keys when Bradley got home that night. It’s late, and on a normal day, he would have been home nearly two hours ago. But it wasn’t a regular night, and he had been detained on base for a reprimand. You hadn’t bothered waiting around for him, too blinded by your anger.

You don’t look up when he walks in, nor do you respond when he calls your name. Instead, you press down on the ivory a little bit harder. You’re not playing any specific melody or keeping any type of tune, but you think the screeching that is coming out of the instrument is a good representation of what you’re feeling right now.

“Are you going to ignore me?”

He sighs when you do just that. He straddles the bench beside you so that he’s fully facing you. You can feel his body heat and smell the mixture of jet fuel and his cologne. He doesn’t touch you and you think you’re grateful for that.

“I’m not sorry,” he spoke gently. The piano makes an abrupt sound as you suddenly stop playing. Still, you don’t look at him. “You are a damn good pilot, and you deserve a lot more respect than what you get. I bite my tongue a lot more than I should when we’re at work, because I know you can fight your own battles and I know that’s what you want me to do. But you’re also my wife. And the moment some asshole thinks just because he thinks he’s better than you and can push you like he did? That’s not something I’ll ignore. I will never, ever apologize for defending you for that.”

You sit in the quiet for several long moments as you consider his words.

Truthfully, it had been inevitable. The hot shot new pilot who was subbing in for Omaha for the next few weeks had been more than a little demeaning since he arrived at Top Gun six days ago, talking down to not only you, but Phoenix and Halo as well. His patience was already running thin by the time the douchebag thought it was okay to push you when you showed him up in the classroom. The guy deserved it, but you hated that your husband even had to put himself in that position for you, and that he would potentially face consequences that impact his career for it.

If you were honest with yourself, you were grateful.

You finally turn your head. His whiskey colored eyes look back at you, imploring you to forgive him, but steadfast in not backing down either. You let out a sigh and shuffle closer between his spread legs on the piano bench. He takes it as permission and lets a hand settle on your thigh.

“Is it going in your official file?” you ask quietly.

“No. Mav and Hondo were in the room and saw it happen. They backed me up with Cyclone.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and lean your body fully against his. His arms are immediately around you, holding you tightly.

“You didn’t have to hit him,” you mutter into his khaki uniform shirt. He presses a kiss to your hair.

“Yes I did. And you know it. Please don’t ask me to apologize, because I won’t.”

You nod, knowing that, at the end of the day, you would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.

“Thank you for always wanting to protect me,” you respond instead. Bradley tucks a finger under your chin, titling your head back far enough to meet his eyes again. He connects your lips softly, the first one you’d shared since he left before you that morning.

“I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always.”

count count: 637

#alli's tgm blurb party #alli's tgm mix and match blurb party #alli writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #Bradley bradshaw blurb #rooster x reader

154 notes · View notes

reulaux · 7 days

Text

Why does Yue Qi need Xuan Su to go rescue Xiao Jiu? Is Qiu Jianluo Tianlang jun or something? Of course not. For sneaking someone out from a group of mortals, not even fighting them head on, Yue Qi doesn't need the power to obliterate the whole house. Or if it's for revenge, he can come back later when he's a lot more powerful. It's not like the Qiu are going anywhere. The priority is Xiao Jiu's safety. The day he departed from Xiao Jiu tells him enough how gruesome staying in that house is. That's why once Yue Qi grasps the basic on how to utilise qi, he sets to rescue Shen Jiu.

Yue Qi doesn't know his shizun's thinking enough so he wouldn't risk placing hope on shizun's favour. Asking for forgiveness is easier and a more sure way than asking for permissions after all. But just in case, Yue Qi writes a note in his room saying he's going to see his family and will be back. He waits until shizun goes out to have a meeting outside the sect, then sneaks off the mountain at night. He hires a horse with his carefully saved money and speeds to the Qiu Manor.

It takes 3 days to reach the estate. He surveys the surrounding walls and guard positions. After the sun sets, he dresses in a dark robe and covers his face. He looks up the wall on the dimmest side, channels his qi and jumps up the wall. He lurks among the trees and disarms the guards one by one until he reaches the building. He asks the servants inside with a sharp little knife to their throats of the directions to the slave compartment and to Shen Jiu's room.

It's a door with many locks but he doesn't bother stealing the keys. He just doesn't want to startle Xiao Jiu inside. He hopes Xiao Jiu is inside though. If he isn't...

Never mind.

He concentrates his qi, slams the locks, and quietly opens the door.

Xiao Jiu is crouching facing him with an anxious and wary expressions.

"Xiao Jiu."

"Qi ge! You finally came!" Xiao Jiu's face lights up.

Yue Qi steps inside. "Xiao Jiu, are you injured? Can you stand?"

"I can… But it's painful. I won't be able to run far nor fast."

"Climb onto my back. I'm bigger and stronger now. I can carry you out this time." He is having a growth spurt. Good food and a better quality of sleep really do wonders. Xiao Jiu is barely bigger than when he left him though...

By the time Yue Qi is sprinting out off the building, the Qiu has noticed the intrusion. Yue Qi moves in the shadow, jumps up the wall, and darts to the horse he tied to a tree some distance away. He puts Xiao Jiu on the horse, and rides back to the sect without dawdling. The farther away from the manor, the safer Xiao Jiu is.

He slows down in the morning only to buys Xiao Jiu food, and continue until they reach the sect. He treats Xiao Jiu with oinments, cream, and bandgaes he accumulated.

And then, what?

The sect leader is likely already back, but does he cares if a disciple sneaked off? Yue Qi hasn't stayed in the sect for that long so the sect leader hasn't taken notice of his talents or devotion.

Nevertheless surely a non sect member can't stay in the sect. Can Shen Jiu hide in Yue Qi's room without anyone noticing, maybe until the discipls selection day which may be soon or a long time away?

Or will Yue Qi beg shizun to let Shen Jiu join Cang Qiong? But this time Yue Qi hasn't been an important head disciple who has a hand in defeating Tianlang jun, nor is Shen Jiu a notable person who killed Wu Yanzi and saved said head disciple's life.

But even if Shen Jiu can't stay inside the sect, Yue Qi will give Xiao Jiu money enough for him to buy food and a room in an inn until Xiao Jiu can officially join Cang Qiong. In the meantime, Yue Qi is going to visit Shen Jiu whenever he has time, teaches him reading, cultivation, and gives him books and a head start for the upcoming disciple selection day.

Surely this would be #competent Yue Qingyuan, more so than in canon.

---

I imagine if the sect leader knows when Yue Qi sneaked out off the sect maybe through a talisman, or an array imbued in Yue Qi's property, maybe the name tag that's used to pass through the sect barrier, maybe they will send some people to retrieve Yue Qi, and finds the Qiu has taken Yue Qi as their slave because they remember him being another slave with Shen Jiu those month or years ago, and Yue Qi miscalculates, is underprepared, and is captured. And the sect is really angry someone dares to enslave their disciple so they tear down the Qiu and Yue Qi and Shen Jiu are freed...

#svsss #snippet #yue qingyuan #original shen qingqiu #shen jiu #qijiu

22 notes · View notes