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#just posting whatever comes to mind today it is too hot to not have some sort of distraction
itsjamieithink · 6 months
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i know that fandom would rather ship two white men together than acknowledge poc but wouldn't wyll and gale be such a fun couple
wyll's adventurous self is a fun contrast to gale's homebody nature. wyll drags gale into new journeys that gale always protests but never declines
they're both self-sacrificing and would put the other before their life (angst potential and the level of devotion they would have!!!)
they're both ridiculously romantic (romantic peacocking would be v fun)
if gale finds sorcerers annoying then hes gotta find warlocks annoying too right. sorry gale your fireball sucks, wylls eldritch blast is rad as hell. also gale can teach wyll magic post end game
also i just think theyre hot and would have hot gay sex♥️
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inkyray · 2 months
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INKED
MATT STURNIOLO
a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism
3.6k words
warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️
You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.
Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.
It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.
A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.
"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.
"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."
You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."
With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.
The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.
Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.
"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.
You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.
"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.
"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."
It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.
He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.
You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.
-
It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.
On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.
Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.
You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…
His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.
Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.
Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.
"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.
The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.
Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.
The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.
He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.
They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.
You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.
Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.
You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.
You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.
You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.
"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.
"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.
You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.
"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.
You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.
Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.
Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.
He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.
You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.
The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.
Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.
"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.
Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.
He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.
"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.
"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.
Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.
You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."
His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.
He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.
You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.
"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.
You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"
"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."
-
(idk how a tags list works)
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Manipulative
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pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, past oc x f!reader.
summary: he’s fallen way too deep, and he knows that.
a/n: i am in no way romanticizing nor defending his actions, he sucks as a person, this is for funsies, keep that in mind. remember he’s literally responsible for mass murders of children. also this idea is cliche ik ik. but, if you want more I will do more with original ideas.
reader has somewhat long hair, BUT no other descriptions of the reader. and I don’t usually do that. just for this post:)
warnings: yandere themes, toxicity, manipulative behavior(manipulation) obsession, possessiveness, no fluff, implied/referenced murder, slight blood, narcissistic tendencies, delusion, unhealed trauma, implied stalking, mild violence.
The meadow was where you’d often go. Ever since the games, it was a stress reliever, humming some songs or even just listening to the birds chirp.
After Coriolanus was sent to be a peacekeeper, You were sent home. District 12 was your home. You sat down on the cold rock. You were more of an creative artist than musician. Sometimes you wrote songs, and sometimes you wrote poems or just stories.
But you didn’t feel like doing anything today, just admiring the breeze in front of you. You were fairly zoned out when you hear a twig snap, and turn around.
You sigh of relief.”Sorry. Still have those instincts from the games.” You rushed over, not doing much. Still in disbelief he really was there.
You didn’t expect him to be here. But here he was. “It leaves quite the impression, He chuckled. It was a long embrace, and you say,”You found me. Quite surprised.”
“You figured I would, He teased. “Not this fast, and really it was hope, You tease right back, lips on his, it was passionate and sweet, ideal for a reunion.
“The sun’s hot, come in the shade, You offer. He had some ice, now melted and offered it.”Here. For you.” “Thank you, You reply.
You were very thirsty. The moment the water hit your tongue you were in heaven. “This must be the only cold thing in November, he joked.
You laugh in response.”So, Coriolanus Snow, What are you doing in the Meadow?” You were half joking. You never were fully serious. At least until it came to your feelings for him.
“Spending some time with my girl, He replies. The word My, a possessive tone, You notice. But brush it off.
“It’s unbelievable, You admit.”Truly. But I was surprised they brought me back. I swore It was all me.” “But it wasn’t, he points out. You look at him.”Clearly they didn’t believe me.”
His lips were on yours again, long and passionate. You two hadn’t seen each other since the games ended.
“Well, It was hard to believe for me too, He admits.”Tell me what happened after.” It was difficult to recall everything. The games were a nightmare. Especially the Arena. And Mayfair.
As the two of you share the water, You couldn’t help but wonder as he told stories, exchanging them, if something was wrong.
“Poor Jessup, You say sympathetically.”He didn’t deserve that. It was you, though, wasn’t it? The one who killed Bobbin?”
“I had to, Coriolanus replied.”He tried to kill me.” “I’m not saying what you did was wrong, but I suppose killing is for survival in the Arena, You reply. Snow only nodded.
“I heard the others brag, You say.”So I know. I thought the worst happened. You know, that you were dead.”
Heading back up beside him, You still couldn’t believe he was here. Whatever relationship you had, seemed to grow.
“What have you been up to? He asks, curiously.”It’s been a while.” “It has, you laugh.”And truly, not much. A few performances here and then. At the Hob, Maude Ivory’s an amazing singer like Lucy Gray.”
For a mere moment, You were in complete bliss. And that night was a normal evening for the Covey. Your parents were killed, well, your adoptive parents. They took you in, then Maude Ivory came along, your younger sister.
You became a part of the Covey. Until of course, their murders. But you had her, at least. “You want one? A peacekeeper asks, referring to liquor.”You might need it for your performance.”
“Sure, You grin, taking a swig, not making a reaction to the bitterness of it.”You’re right. I might need it.” Lucy Gray was a beautiful singer, but tonight, let you perform.
“Are you sure? I’m not the songbird, You tease. “I’m sure, and Maude Ivory wanted you to, She sweetly says. Your cousin was always the songbird.
“Besides, I think he’d like to hear you sing, Lucy Gray smirked. You knew who she was referring to. Truly the one who knew of your relationship, but by accident.
You wore a yellow dress, not too short but not too long either, and sunflowers in your hair. You wanted to have a good impression.
You tease her,”I think he’d like to hear you.” But you went up there, guitar in hand. A talent that you and Lucy Gray both had. It was the genes, you swore.
But you amazed the crowd as you sang. You were no Songbird. But you had some talent. And the whole time your eyes were on him.
It made him feel more special, in a way. Like the only person could make you feel this happy was him. Him. You were his, at least in his eyes.
But you did a wonderful performance. You mostly did instruments and stood in the background. You didn’t sing much.
Even though you were aware he was there, you went on, even with butterflies in your stomach. It was later that evening that things went downhill.
You said goodbye, even to Coriolanus, saying,”I shouldn’t be out so late anyway. But I promise, straight tomorrow. I’m sure you have peacekeeper things to do, anyway.”
He smiles.”It’s alright. You must be tired from that performance.” You laugh, then nod, quickly kissing him, then moving along.
You didn’t notice that he followed you. He was quite literally, obsessed. Especially after hearing your sweet voice. Since finding your home in the Seam, it wasn’t hard to follow you, and pretend he was there for something else.
Sometimes, he’d meet you there. Other times, didn’t even know he was there watching. He’d call it protectiveness. But it was really a sense of possessiveness over you.
That’s what it really was.
He heard your voice in your room, you sang to yourself. You sang a love song. That wasn’t hard to understand.
He had a sense of jealousy. It was clear the lyrics wasn’t about him. A past one, maybe. It wasn’t Billy Taupe. He had Lucy Gray. So who could you mentioned?
He was bloodthirsty. Or at least, had a taste for violence. He’d never say it or admit it. It was like he was a rebel. And he hated rebels.
But that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. As you danced and sang a little. Coriolanus defended his behavior, he was being protective of you. That nobody would hurt you.
He had fallen way too deep. And he was aware. You might feel the same about him, just as equally obsessed as he was. But that night, he wasn’t looking for trouble. Not much, anyway.
Someone stood beside him, admiring your singing. “Peacekeeper, huh? The male laughed. Coriolanus turns.”Yeah. Punishment. Not a choice.”
“She’s always been a singer, the male explained.”didn’t have much faith.” He wanted to know how the male knew that.
“How do you know? Coriolanus asked, curiously. “She wrote that song about me, the male bragged and seemed proud.”One of these days she’ll get back together with me.”
You never mentioned your ex lover much. Only that he hurt you, and that he was still infatuated. You were right about that.
“She isn’t interested, Coriolanus says, coldly. His fists clenched, along with his jaw, both from the rage he was feeling.
Maybe it was his narcissistic tendencies that were showing. A feeling of shame. A feeling that, he was superior than the male standing in front of him. He’d do so much better.
And with that, he swung. He could’ve shot him. But it was the easy way. And he didn’t deserve the easy way. His blood thirst took over a little, and like Bobbin, didn’t know how far his strength would go.
He stands back, his knuckles bleeding and blood on his uniform he’d have to explain later. Maybe it was a mistake coming to visit you. Your singing had stopped.
He pants. What had he done? Standing over the body, Coriolanus realized what he truly had done. And what could he do? He didn’t want a career as a peacekeeper; but his future would be damaged even further. He had to do something.
The Lake.
It brought him good memories. Swimming alongside you and the covey. But he’d have to hide the body somewhere.
It took a lot of his strength; but didn’t wear him out to drag him to the lake. It wouldn’t be too hard hiding evidence. His body would eventually disappear and Coriolanus doubted anybody cared about him. You didn’t anymore.
And he just watched. After the blood washed off, He walked away. He left the Seam. He'd come back. But You'd be aware of it.
Morning came, and peacekeepers came knocking at your door. The whole morning was a mess. When you did eventually meet up with Coriolanus, you decided on telling him about it.
“Did you know? She asked.”I’m assuming every peacekeeper knew. The guy I used to go out with was murdered. Found in the lake.”
“We were informed today, but I wasn’t the one who found it, He lies. He did not like lying, but he had to. He held a tight grip on you.
And he wasn’t letting you go.
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hazbinhotelxreader · 4 months
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Stressed Carmilla x female reader smut
Words: 783
“Stress Reliever”
A/n: I posted this yesterday but saw it was on mature…so I’m reposting it.
A/n: lol I’ve done a lot of Carmilla stuff. I’m working on Lucifer too! I just find carmila easier to write since I’m attracted to females (and her the most out of the show). But anyways hope you enjoy!
(Requested by: Erin26_94 on AO3)
Warnings: submissive Carmilla, Dominant reader, gentle sex, praising, gay sex, oral(vaginal)
Info: takes place after “Whatever it takes”. Carmillas stressed out due to velvette and the meeting, and she is gifted with some pleasure from you.
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Carmilla sighed softly as Zestial left the room. She went over and grabbed some alcohol, pouring it into the glass again but then drinking the bottle instead. Velevtte had stressed her out greatly. Almost exposing Carmilla being responsible for the death of the exorcist.
She sat down at the table and rested her head on her hand, closing her eyes to take a deep breath to calm herself down, that’s until she gets a knock on the door. “Come in.” She commanded sternly. You enter the room with a concerned smile, carmillas expression immediately softening, so did her voice. “Mi amor..is there something you need?”
“Odette and Clara told me you were feeling a little stressed, so I came to check in on you” you said softly and concerned, walking over to her and kissing her gently on the side of her head. She sighed softly and looked up at you with tired eyes.
“Yes..Velvettes catching on my love..” she admits and rubbed her forehead out of stress. “Such a respectless brat…” she grumbled frustrated with today’s meeting.
You chuckled at her insulting one of the VEES, after all they were pretty respectless, and rude, so they kinda deserved it. “Want me to help you take away that stress my love?” You offered as you traced her thigh
She looked up at you, and nods. “Yes..I would love that..what did you have in mind?” She asked, leaning in the chair more comfortably now.
“Well…I can let you release that stress out with something more….passionate~” you say seductively and continue to trace her thigh.
Carmilla blushed softly. “I’m not sure love..we are still in the office..I’d rather not-“ she was cut off from her worries by you.
“Don’t think about that okay? We’re the only ones here and it is late, no one’s going to come in..tonight is to focus on you. Okay?” You reassured, moving your hand up to her hips.
She sighed softly in relief. “Okay then…I trust you on that my dear..” she said and stood up, making you push her to sit on the table. She was slightly confused of what you were doing but didn’t question it and allowed you to continue.
You got on your knees and started to pull off her pants, she blushed as she looked down at your figure. You discard the pants and set them on a nearby chair, and you start to trail soft kisses up and down Carmillas thighs, making her shiver and arch her back in response. “You’re so good for me..” you praised her softly and kiss up towards her sensitive sex.
Your hot breath hits carmillas sensitive folds, causing her to let out a soft gasp and grip the edge of the table. “Mi Amor….” She choked out, arching her back and wanting release. You gave into her wishes and started to leave long licks onto her pussy. She moaned out and used all her strength to not grab your head and push you into her. You continue to leave long and soft licks and kisses onto her core, your fingers massaging her thighs.
Your warm tongue finally enters her sobbing and tight pussy, you tasted the inside of her as her thighs tighten around your head, making your breath hitch. “Ohhh…Mi Amor…keep going…” Asha said breathy and placed her large claw onto the back of your head to push you in more while her thighs kept you in place. You moan and thrust your tongue in and out of her, your hands gripping onto her large thighs and holding her tight. “oh mierda….yes..yes..” she moaned out as she got closer to her climax.
Your eyes shut tight as she throws her head back in pleasure, crying out your name as her hips grinded into your face, her large hand holding your head into her and fingers twined into your hair, her large thighs holding you close.
You taste the familiar salty and warm liquid fill your mouth and you swallow every drop of her precious cum, milking the rest out with your mouth. You pull away and pant, standing up and gently kissing Carmillas lips, she wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed back, her tongue dancing with yours. Your lips parted, strands of pre-cum and saliva connected your mouths, and she spoke up, panting softly.
“Your incredible Mi Amor….”
330 notes · View notes
sanzaibian · 2 months
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Oh. You’re here once again.
What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?
To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.
I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !
See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !
I’m not supposed to become someone like this :
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I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !
Or like that :
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Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !
Or that guy :
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His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !
Or even this guy !
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… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !
Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !
However, today, it all changes.
Today, you will understand my plight.
Today, I’ll transform you for a change.
Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.
So, let us begin.
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BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?
… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”
You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.
Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !
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There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !
Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.
Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.
Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.
Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.
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BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.
Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?
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Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !
… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !
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Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.
So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).
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Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !
However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.
Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)
By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !
Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !
This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !
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Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !
I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.
BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !
Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.
All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !
… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…
NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.
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Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.
Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…
… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?
What are you holding out for me ?
...
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I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.
================================================
By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !
362 notes · View notes
chronically-ghosted · 6 months
Text
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stay gold, baby boy
rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)
pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader
word count: almost 6K
summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants. 
warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it
a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did. 
✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨
🤍Masterlist
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With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.
Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it. 
And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.
Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking. 
Which had led to this. 
And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there. 
Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.
The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.
But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything. 
In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place. 
It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase. 
But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room. 
A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).
He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star. 
Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him? 
But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care. 
You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want. 
(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message. 
He called on day five, by the way.)
Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his. 
You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.
Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision. 
The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.
“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.” 
You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut. 
Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out. 
Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.
“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”
You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t. 
It’s officially embarrassing.
It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.  
Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines. 
But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –
He’s wearing pants. 
Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.
You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.
Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing. 
“Are you okay? Why are you –,”
As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.   
His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.
“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.” 
He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –
“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving. 
You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance. 
“So I’m here.” 
“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.
“On the last day of the week.”
“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.” 
God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet. 
You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face. 
“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”
His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column. 
“Because I was a good boy?” 
You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.
“Because you were a very good boy.” 
He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.
His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center. 
“Go lock the door, baby.” 
He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.
Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.
Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department. 
“Really?” 
You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees
“For as long and as much as you want.”  
You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper. 
“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.” 
“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.” 
Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.
You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling. 
“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”
Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers. 
It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.
Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock. 
“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive. 
For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock. 
You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.
“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.” 
As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest. 
“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” 
Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.
“I know.”
And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all. 
Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.
“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”
The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens. 
He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue. 
“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week. 
You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard. 
“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock. 
Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. 
“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.” 
He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes. 
You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt. 
“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.” 
He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked. 
“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”
You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.
“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.” 
You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”
Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”
Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”
You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us. 
Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.” 
“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”
“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing. 
Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?” 
Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.” 
“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”
Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.” 
Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??
His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.” 
It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck. 
Fuck.
“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”
He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 
“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”
“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.” 
Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees. 
“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.” 
You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips. 
The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head. 
“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”
You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein. 
And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –
Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet. 
The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –
With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head. 
You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him. 
You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”
He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull. 
Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes. 
He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer. 
Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor. 
Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates. 
Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”
His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him. 
You swear your nerves are on fire.
He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.
But this, this is you taking all you want and then some. 
In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze. 
No roles. No games. No landmines. 
Exposure. 
Blistering and brittle.
Safety. 
You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder. 
Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose. 
“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud. 
You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs. 
“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,” 
He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it. 
“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”
Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.
The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves. 
You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna –  oh, shit,”
His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his. 
He doesn’t seem to mind.
Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days. 
Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards. 
His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.
It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move. 
The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.
For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.
“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”
“Five stars?” 
You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.
He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.
This feeling, you can contain it. 
For now. 
Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead. 
“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.” 
His smile widens. 
272 notes · View notes
brianwashere · 10 months
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hello!! saw your writing today in my tags and got interested, read some more and you seem really cool :D i got one fic stuck in my head though, the one you posted earlier today with the 7 foot spider reader! it was really cool but i kind of thought about a follow up (and I made sure to check your rules before this)
i was thinking, m/n is really big, intimidating and generally a badass- however. in bed (nsfw) he’s inexperienced, shy af, and ends up just being really submissive (you actually didn’t specify if you prefer dom or sub reader, i assumed you mind neither, but if u don’t feel comfortable with this then just ignore)
thank you, and keep up your great works so far :D
Anon, you’re officially my favorite fucking person ever. Oh my god. This req. warmed my heart. Idek what. It just did. Thank you for reading my other fics too. Wow. I’m reeling rn.
Also you didn’t specify who with so I just did HCs for Noir and Miguel
Pls req again soon! You’re so sweet
**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony **
Summary: look at req
Tw: explicit activities ehehehehe, language
-Miguel-
The first time you two try anything he’s expecting you to be all dominant and get his ass blasted
Y’all two are making out and he’s ready to take it to the next level
And you’re nervous cause you know he’s expecting you to be this super experienced “knows how to make you scream immediately” kinda guy
The truth is you haven’t had much experience because while people may be into the whole “huge man” thing they’re too scared to actually come up to you and even have a conversation
And you’re also scared of hurting your partner
Just a mix of things that led you to little experience
It doesn’t take long for Miguel to figure it out
As soon as you glanced at his face nervously he knew something was up
At first Miguel is surprised bcc he would’ve expected men and women to practically be hanging from you
Once he recovers from the initial shock he’s down with topping and showing you the ropes
It’s a bit of a boost to his ego, not to mention a massive turn on for him
He never lets you shy away from him/cover your face. He loves seeing you. He knows he’s not stronger than you but he’ll still pull your hands away/pull you closer
But sometimes he does wanna be on bottom
Queue very erotic teaching sessions
When you do something he likes he’ll definitely over exaggerate so you’ll know
He also loves marking you up in more…intense ways because he knows it won’t really hurt you
Clawing your back. He’ll claw the SHIT out of your back.
Biting you too. Sometimes he just can’t help it
He finds out you have god tier stamina and impecable recovery time and will definitely use that to his advantage
*cough cough* Overstimulation and denial *cough cough*
He’s down to do whatever you’re comfortable with but sometimes he really needs some stress relief i.e. getting a blowjob or just fucking you senseless
He won’t admit it but he likes when he’s the little spoon after you two are done
~Noir~
You got nervous and told him the first make out session that you had practically no experience
He was a little taken aback, again, you’re so big and so hot how could people not be lining up for a piece of you
It makes him feel even more lucky to be with you though
“Oh…that’s ok, dear. We’ll take it slow, then.”
Then he finds out your submissive too and he’s pretty sure he has a heart attack
Now he was pretty vanilla at first but then he found the internet and stumbled upon some kinks and did some…research
Behind. He loves seeing your back muscles move and twist under him
He likes tying your wrists together with some of his webbing
It’s strong enough that it could actually hold you if you tried resisting, maybe not for very long, but it wouldn’t snap like thread at the slightest pressure
He loves praising you. Praise. All the time. Always praise. You could breathe and he’d be on his knees for you
Every time he does something new he asks if you’re ok with it
He’ll be gentle if that’s what you want but he figures out that’s usually not the case
Usually you want everything he’s got, as much as he’ll provide you
He does love soft romantic nights with you though
Where he gets to enjoy your large beautiful frame and your contrasting shyness
When he gets to slow down and drink in ALL of you
The noises you make, the small movements, your incoherent mumbling
He loves ALL of it
He’s so down bad for you not even a joke
A little guilty pleasure for him is kissing you senseless
He loves being the big spoon for you, even if it just feels like a backpack is attached to you
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writerslittlelibrary · 4 months
Text
I'll always be your safe space, drabble
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masterlist
summary: when you come home overwhelmed from a long day of school, all you want is to feel safe and unwind. Lucky for you, your mom and dad are home to comfort you with whatever you need
pairing: Natasha x autistic daughter reader, Bucky x autistic daughter reader
warnings: none I think?  
genre: fluff
words: 858
a/n: hello lovelies, this fic is based on how I experience my autism. please keep in my mind that while maybe your autism might not act this way, that doesn’t make it a wrong representation 🫶
(I was diagnosed by a therapist, please don’t hate on me. I’ve never posted about my autism before because I’ve been afraid of wrong accusations)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
Everything had gone wrong today. You woke up with your pyjama pants twisted around your legs and your socks were half off. On top of that, you missed your first alarms, and so you had to wait till 7.30 to get out of bed, instead of 7.15. 
Your days had started off terrible, and it was only getting worse. When you went to get dressed, you discovered the outfit you had planned in your head, was in the wash, and so you had to settle for a different one.
You ran out of your favourite breakfast yesterday, and Bucky had forgotten to buy it, so you had to settle with a bowl of simple cereal instead. 
When you had gotten to school it seemed like everyone had it out for you.
The classes were too loud, and the teachers were annoying. Everytime you zoned out, or decided to doodle a bit to calm down, the teachers called you out and told you to pay attention.
Once you got to maths, the teacher had actually given you detention for doodling instead of listening to her lesson. You tried to explain that by doodling you could focus on what she was saying better, but she wouldn’t hear it. 
Therefore, after the school day, which had already left you insanely overstimulated, you still had to sit through an hour of detention.
After you were finally done, you realised there were no busses driving at this time, so you had to call your mom to come pick you up. Of course, Natasha was happy to do so, and when she opened the door for you, she immediately sensed your mood. 
She didn’t try to talk to you in the car, rather just handed you your headphones and allowed you to go in your own little bubble. 
Once you got home, Natasha had opened your door, letting you out of the car, being careful not to touch you. After you two had gotten up to the apartment, she opened the door for you, allowing you to walk in first.
Bucky was at the kitchen island getting some work done, yet when you walked in he immediately shut his laptop. 
He greeted you with a smile but you didn’t acknowledge him. 
Instead, you kicked your shoes off, heading for the couch and letting yourself fall onto it. Natasha gave Bucky a glance, letting him know what was going on. Of course, he understood immediately, getting up and preparing you a cup of hot chocolate, that, according to you, only he could make properly so that it wouldn’t be too sweet or too watery. 
Natasha took it upon herself to grab your favourite blanket and made sure to grab your some inside clothing, walking to the couch and letting you get changed. 
You had specific inside and outside clothing, and after wearing your clothing outside, it was impossible for you to sit on any furniture in your room with your outside clothing still on. 
After you had gotten changed, Natasha helped you get comfortable on the couch, finally starting to speak. 
“Would you like to watch something, cuddle, or be alone for a moment?” Natasha asked you gently, wiping some stray hairs from your face. You shrugged, not being sure of anything at the moment. 
After a minute or two Bucky walked into the living room, three mugs of hot chocolate in his hands. He had made sure to use your hot chocolate mug, which was different from you cold chocolate milk mug, and he made sure to use the proper spoon. 
He handed you the mug, and you smiled slightly, leaning forward to give him a kiss on his cheek. 
He knew you weren’t up for speaking right now, and he didn’t dare think about pushing you. He always valued the physical affection you used to express your gratitude. 
You sat up on the couch, your favourite blanket draped over you, comfortably weighing you down. 
It was then that you decided you wanted to watch your comfort show, but you didn’t feel like talking, yet you didn’t know how else to express yourself. You though for a moment before turning to Natasha, looking at her with pleading eyes. 
“Do you need something my love?” she asked, softly stroking your hair. 
You nodded and motioned at the tv. Whether it was the fact that they were both highly trained assassins, or the fact that they were your parents, both of them immediately knew what you meant, and they didn’t hesitate to turn your comfort show on. 
They waited for you to initiate the cuddling session, and they allowed you to snuggle into them when you were ready. 
You put your now empty mug down and leaned your head over to Bucky, snuggling into his warm, strong arms and letting yourself feel safe in his embrace. You laid your legs over Natasha’s legs, and she smiled as she say you and Bucky being so close. 
She might not ever admit it, but there was nothing in the world that would ever make her more happy than seeing her child snuggled up with her dad.
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st
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daddy-dins-girl · 3 months
Text
Playdate - Chapter Eight
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IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.
Main Masterlist Series Masterlist
AO3 link
pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York
Word Count: 5.1k
Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P
Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).
MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.
Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics
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When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.
Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.
“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.
The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”
So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.
“Well, what have we here?”
Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.
Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.
In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.
And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.
Dave was well and truly fucked.
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Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.
He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.
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A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”
After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.
“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.
He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.
“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.
“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.
“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.
His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.
“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.
“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.
“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.
“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”
“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.
“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.
“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.
“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.
“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.
“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.
“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.
“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”
“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.
“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.
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Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.
He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.
His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.
“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.
“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.
“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.
“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.
“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”
“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.
“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.
“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.
“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”
“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.
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Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.
He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.
He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.
Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.
Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.
“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.
Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.
Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.
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Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?
He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.
Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?
He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.
It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.
Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.
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Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.
He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.
He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.
But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.
Dave York was a bad, bad man.
"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.
"Hi"
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Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.
He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.
Dave was gone.
Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.
Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.
Dave York has left the group.
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Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.
Next Chapter
I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!
Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams
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igotanidea · 7 months
Text
Blocked: Dick Grayson x game streamer!reader
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He's so clueless and concerned in this photo it just fits the whole plotline :D
***
„DAMMIT!” her sudden yelling coming from the game room got him on his feet, running inside immediately, in search for any possible threat to her life or health.
„What is going-?” Dick stopped in the middle of the sentence, his gaze focusing on her perked up ass in those devilishly tight jeans. The view he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in for a moment, even if it was as nice as it was confusing. „Babe, what are you-?”
„Damn the stupid Internet connection!” she yelled, flexing and twisting around her gaming computer, playing with some cables and plugs, desperately trying to fix whatever was broken and failing spectacularly. „I was supposed to post a new stream today! I was supposed to do a live! Screw that! Dammit! Why is it always happening to me!?”
„Y/N. Love--”
„Agh!” she groaned in frustration and just to make sure he was not going to be hit with something she might throw his way, Dick took a step back raising hands in surrender
„Princess why don;t you calm down for a moment and --”
„Calm down?!” she snapped ,twisting head his direction, fury in her eyes, blush of anger on her cheeks „How am I supposed to calm down. Redlotus95 is hot on my heels!”
„Red Lotus....?”
„I can’t drop on second place Dick. I’m serious! I’m not giving this little piece of shit the satisfaction of stealing my fans!”
„I think you take it a little bit too far, baby. It was supposed to be fun and relax, remember. What happened to taking things casually? Why the bloodlust?”
„Screw having fun. I am quite literally at war now Dick!”
„when did you became so competitive?”he frowned at her, taking a step forward and peeling the cobweb from her face. Clearly her head office needed cleaning.
„Since I was called a petty girl doing a in a men field!” she cried out, becoming exasperated in a second.
‘I’m sorry, what?” Dick blinked once, shocked by her words. Who in their sound mind, would ever dare to call his beautiful, wonderful and killer girlfriend such words. „gimme a name, Y/n.” he hissed, clenching his fist.
„Dick.”
„A name, love.”
„Can I please see Dick Grayson again?” she rubbed her forehead, the sudden change in his demeanor, his I-will-avenge-her-name eyes included, giving her extremely clear sign of which part of him, she was currently speaking to.
„What do you --? Oh, oh, okay, i get it. But babe, I don’t need to be Nightwing to punch whoever call you that name. I can still do it in my civilian version. I mean, have you seen my muscles?” he grinned, flexing his biceps. „Hands down I can beat anyone.”
„As sweet and chivalry as that is, I don’t need you defending my honour or whatever” she rolled her eyes, equally amused and annoyed. „I can do it myself but I freaking need a stable internet connection and new hardware! I can;t possibly work with this shit!” she had to gather all the strength she had to not kick the device.
„Y/N....” Dick grinned at her, showing literally all of his teeth.
„What--?!”
***
Computer store.
That was the what.  
And damn, let’s just say that were advantages to dating a billionaire’s son, cause she definitely didn’t have to cut on the expenditure.
***
„How does that even work!?”
„Could you be quiet for a moment!”
„ But I don’t know how to use that! What do I do?! Y/N!! What do I do!?”
„You just sit here quietly and look pretty!”
„Oh, that I can do--”
„God!” she groaned, even though deep, deep down inside she was laughing at his beginner attitude. „Hey everyone” she turned to speak to her followers active online waiting for her live stream. Sorry for the little shouting and screaming. That’s what you get when your charming boyfriend try to get involve in your hobby” she chuckled a little.
The comments started appearing a moment after she explained the little commotion and Dick almost jumped on his chair, rushing to read them all.
„Oh, look Y/N! They say hi to me!”
„Mhm.. sure they do.”
„They can hear me now, right? I can tell them hi too?”
„you know I’m starting to question if you were really raised by Bruce Wayne, the CEO of the most advanced technology company in the country...’
„Hey that’s mean!” Dick huffed, his eyes still scanning the comments carefully, almost as if he was watching a villain during his patrol. „but I guess your followers think it’s cute. Oh!” he gasped and smiled wickedly upon noticing one particular message. „Been-there-done-that is asking if you can post a picture of me. Sure she can, I’ll be more than happy to show you my face and --”
She cleared her throat in a  very suggestive manner.
„Sorry...” he send her that flashing smile again and turned back to computer as if keeping his eyes on the screen made the attenders hear him better. „Ok guys, listen up, before we start the -- um--?”
„Streaming session.” she gave him a prompt.
„Yeah, right, streaming session, I got one important message for you all--”
„Oh, no, Richard, don’t--!”
„Fuck you RedLotus95 for talking shit about my girlfriend!”
Youtube blocked her for two weeks.
She blocked Dick for ever attending her live sessions forever.
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hrtsgyu · 26 days
Text
last night with heeseung.
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“hey, you up?” he asks you through the phone call. “yeah what's wrong?” you could only assume he wants to do something since it's 3am. It's not completely out of the ordinary.
“look outside.” you got up from your cozy bed to look outside your window. “look up, the stars are so bright tonight. don’t you think?” you can hear the wind through the phone. “yeah they’re pretty. where are you?” you look down and around trying to see if he’s near. “right around the corner, let's go somewhere yeah?” “can’t tonight heeseung i have work in the morning.” “on a saturday really?” he sounds disappointed. “im sorry, we can hang another-” “just for a little bit? please?”
it's been like this for about a month. he used to ask to hang out during the day but these days it’s only been at night. always wanting your company, making you go to whatever concert he can sneak the both of you in. you liked heeseung, he always flirted with you but you couldn’t tell if its just him or if it was only with you. he made you feel special though, safe too. what you had for him, you never had for anyone else. 
“sure, but only for a little bit.” “yes! im parked outside your house.” “coming!” you ended the call and put on his hoodie that you stole from him when it suddenly got cold one night when the two of you were walking around the town center and he gave it to you. 
you silently snuck out of the house and into his car. “hey pretty.” “shut up.” he chuckles. “Is that my hoodie?” “no..” you mumbled. “right..” you felt him staring at you and got flustered. “can you drive now?” he snickers a little. “okay, okay!” he puts his hands up in defeat and starts driving. 
[3:30]
the both of you finally arrive at the park after picking up some junk food that’ll definitely hurt later. he puts on music as the two of you sit on the blanket that was in his car. 
“what are you doing after work today?” he breaks the silence. “napping, since someone decided to wake me up at 3am.” you tilt your head and give him a fake smile. “that someone must be the most talented, amazing, awesome person ever.” “right?” you grab his phone to see the time when his phone buzzed. “someone texted you.” “who?” “someone named sooyoung.” he flinched a little. “oh shit i forgot to text her back.” he grabs the phone from your hand, quickly replying to whoever sooyoung is.
you’re a little sad to be honest but you don't let it show. “sooyoung?” you ask in your normal tone. “just someone im talking to.” you feel your own heart sadden. Is that even possible? “oh really? for how long?” keeping your composure. “like a month? she’s super hot, and actually has a personality.”
oh. is that why he started contacting you at night.. “have you taken her on any dates?” “like 3 i think.” “hmm.” “but we’ve been hanging non-stop, everyday it’s just us.” your heart is breaking. “she must be really fun then.” “oh yeah for sure. but i was going to ask you if you were free after work so that we can go to another concert, i was going to bring her along so the two of you could meet.” “ohh umm i have plans with jake after work. well after my nap.” “i understand, maybe another time then?” he gives you his big sad bambi eyes. “just let me know.” 
[3:50] 
you both sit in silence, enjoying the stars and the music. heeseung closes his eyes when he feels the breeze. you turn to look at him and feel your heart ache. how you wish you could be his.
“you okay?” he brings you back from your sorrow. “yeah.. this lighting suits you.” you take out your phone and snap a few pictures of him. “send it to sooyoung.” you say as you airdrop the photos to him. “nah this is instagram story worthy.” he replied, opening the app, posting it and tagging you. he turns off his phone, placing his attention on you. he scoots over to you and puts his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. the both of you stare into the distance. 
your mind full of him and his mind full of another girl.
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HAIII!!!! i was about to delete this account until i had something in my inbox and there was such a sweet anon :( i made this quick little drabble about heeseung from enhypen. he's so kind and he would not do this irl, at least i hope but given that he has a toy story collection and kept his english name evan hidden for years because he didn't want engenes to feel bad.. yeah thats my man.. anyways im back now! and i was in a little of a writers block but idk something about shoegaze makes me want to write. speaking of shoegaze, i totally recommend listening to beauty school by deftones while reading. love you all esp you anon tysm for bringing me back to writing. u guys should totally leave suggestions in my inbox as well i appreciate anything !! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT!!! :3
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a-d-nox · 1 year
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pluto in aquarius: a prediction of what's to come
this is a huge astrological event, pluto is moving into aquarius for the first time since the late 1700s. last time pluto was in aquarius america fought for independence from britain, uranus was discovered, the french revolution began, the bill of rights was ratified, etc.
so for day one, i want to create predictions of what is to come!
some house matters!!!
TWO PLUTO RETROGRADES WILL OCCUR - june 11th - jan 20th, 2024 is the first so we won't see too much wildness just yet as pluto will return into capricorn during this time and THE FINAL RETROGRADE BACK INTO CAPRICORN will be september 1st, 2024 - november 19th, 2024. then we are full steam ahead with pluto in aquarius until march 9th, 2043.
i personally am NOT a witch or anything wild, everything i am saying is purely theoretical - it is not fated to happen just because i am saying it. i am simply socially aware. i know what's up generally in the world today and what was up in world in the 1700s - "history typically repeats itself."
i live in the usa so my post likely will be slightly more focused there examples wise so i apologize in advance! feel free to comment, dm, or reblog with other examples from your country based on my prediction key phrases.
i am going to start light and get darker so mentally prepare yourself for that (tw: STI/STD outbreaks, war, 9/11, COVID-19, and other abrasive topics that may make people uncomfortable depending on where they are currently reading from) - but we are talking about pluto so... expect the unexpected?!
let's do this.
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renewable energy sources
aquarius is electricity, light, inventions, electronics, telephones, televisions, etc while pluto can be change! i recently bought a new tv and the back of the remote has a solar panel instead of a battery pack. i do believe we will see more evolution with technology; perhaps we will see solar changed phones! otherwise pluto is also pollution and natural disasters - the climate is in crisis mode perhaps we will see more responsibility and thus changes in our sourcing of energy! example: recently i read that japan has a great source of geothermal energy. currently the conversion to using this source (instead of coal, gas, and nuclear energy) is being held up by a higher up in the hot spring business who claims switching to a new energy system "threatens centuries-old traditions" (bang - a capricorn term - tradition - so perhaps after the retrogrades are through we will see a major shift in energy sourcing).
general technological advancements/inventions
last time pluto was in aquarius the cotton gin was invented; which aided in quicker production of goods and higher demand for american cotton. i strongly believe this is a general indicator that AI is going to become an even bigger part of day to day life. i have seen AI already replace those who take orders in the panera drive thru, there is a higher demand for philosophy/english grads to help teach AI, etc. aquarius is also new teachers/occupations so AI could become the new teachers OR new careers could be coming in the area of interacting with AI generally so it gains more consciousness. so it could be AI or it could be something else that is only just a dream in the back of someone's mind at this moment in time.
altruistic extremists
we may see utopian dreamers rise up! they are likely to advocate for the deconstruction of pre-existing political institutions in favor of either self governance or egalitarian policies. they will likely do whatever it takes to make this statement; we may see more protests / political statements similar to wynn bruce's.
fanatical/extremist announcers radio/tv
we already have biased stations and channels (fox, abc, cnn, nbc, etc). we are likely to see a further rise in politically biased newscasters and announcers.
demonization of astrology
astrology is aquarian in nature but pluto is fanatics, evil, demonics, etc. the community has been saying about the next world war for a while now. we are moving out of conservative pluto in capricorn, so we may find that those of deep belief systems accusing us [astrologers] of conspiring with the devil if/when something militant arises (similar to how the tarot community gets told constantly by christians that they must be satanists).
something with birds
i don't have this nailed down yet specifically, but both aquarius and pluto are rulers of birds. aquarius is large birds while pluto is wading/swamp birds and/or flesh eating birds. no one freak out and start thinking that i am indicating something like the 1963 horror film the birds. if anything i can see more bird-spread illness and/or parasites. OR pluto can be archaeology! there may be a bird related discovery or something to do with the distant relative of the bird - aka the raptor (dinosaur related).
a new STI/STD discovery/outbreak
aquarius represents the distribution of bodily fluids while pluto is often representative of sexual activity. this could either be an outbreak because pluto can be death, extremes, catastrophes, and/or casualties OR pluto can be ph balance in the body (possible new discoveries for feminine sexual health), kidneys (perhaps a discovery will be linked to the diminished functionality associated with syphilis, hiv, etc and how to combat more symptomatic issues), and even purification (aka a cure perhaps to help viral carriers to no longer pass the sti/std to sexual partners).
collapse of congress / house of commons/representatives
i mean it only stands to reason that the bill of rights was created/approved last time pluto was in aquarius that either those rights will disappear (pluto also represents dictators) OR simply the people rise up and demolish the institution as it stands: "...whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government..."
airplane catastrophes
aquarius rules over planes and pluto can represent accomplices, catastrophes, casualties, b0mbs, and t3rr0r!sm. we may experience another event similar to 9/11 OR we may see air strikes in a potential world war 3 scenario.
societal change: crime, war, leadership, and more
world war 3 is on the horizon so say pluto in aquarius (probably in the wake of election year in the US - when the final retrograde into capricorn concludes). but this could also just be governmental restructuring - this could be seen as rebellions (similar to the French Revolution), the rise of organized crime if good become more scarce, religious shifts (pluto is the antichrist, aquarius is freewill (first amendment), and capricorn is the old church (christian schools of thought)), etc.
aquarian terms i can't think of change in but seem important to note / keep in mind: freethinkers, hamburg germany, heart weakness (biden - perhaps the early death of a president in office?), motion picture (already changing as more theaters close), photography, psychology (we are already starting to care more about everyone's mental health), science (general scientific discoveries?), social affairs (there is always something going on - the question is how big will this be?), society, sweden, syria, and xray.
plutonian terms i can't think of change in but seem important to note / keep in mind: abductions (aliens - ufo sights?), aliases, alibis (governmental riffing similar to how no plan was in place when for COVID-19), assass!nat!0n (hopefully not), betrayal, bootlegging (bootleg tiktok if america bans it?), cemeteries (removal of that method if too many are dying at any giving time - mass graves?), convicts (prison release due to overcrowding? the mega-prison of el salvador?), corruption (governmental likely?), demolitions, earthquakes (more environmental issues?), electrocution, executions (war?), fanatic, extremes, floods (environmental? emigration - society is aquarius after all?), liars, massacres (the rise of crime?), murder, nihilism (the rise of philosophy at the time of war?), ransom (war?), satire (rise of political satire?), stolen goods, and taxes (trump-esque no?).
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callsignfate · 9 months
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Valeria x Chaotic wife Pt. 7
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(So, by the way, when I post the votes, I usually never wait until the end to look at the results, I usually post before I go to bed and check it in the early afternoon and post whatevers winning then. This post has 18+ topics and conversations viewer discretion is advised.)
Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five
Part Six/ Part Seven/
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N: *Making random noises and talking to themselves while they do stuff*
Valeria: ...I'd ask if you're okay, but I know the answer.
R/N: HUH?
Valeria: nothing.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N: Ow
Valeria: ...your just standing there how could you hurt yourself?!
R/N: Stabbing rib pain.
Valeria: Maybe that's your sign to stop drinking energy drinks.
R/N: ...It went away we're good.
Valeria: ...
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
Valeria: I hate you sometimes. I mean that in the most loving way possible.
*R/N who just spilled burning coffee on themselves and screamed in pain*
Valeria: Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you.
R/N: HOT STUFF BURNS.
Valeria: ...I stand by my statement.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N: Do you think you'll ever let me learn to shoot.
Valeria: NO. NEVER. NOT IN A MILLION YEARS. YOU'LL KILL ME OR ONE OF MY MEN, THEN YOURSELF SOMEHOW.
R/N: ..could have just said no..
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
Valeria: What do you want to eat?
R/N: I don't know, you pick.
Valeria: *swearing under her breath in Spanish* WE AREN'T DOING THIS AGAIN.
R/N: I ACTUALLY DONT CARE WHAT WE EAT!
Valeria: Pizza it is.
R/N: No.. I'm not in the mood for pizza, what abo-
Valeria: I've never wanted to kiss sand kill someone at the same time as much as I want to right now.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N: I'll let you tie me up and do whatever you want to me.
*Valeria tying you up and gagging you before sitting down and working on some papers near by.*
Valeria: Finally. Silence.
R/N: *muffled angry sounds.*
Valeria: This is nice.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N: *Tries to say a sentence in Spanish that one of Valeria's men told her to say.*
Valeria: ...Did you just ask me to spit on you and give my men a raise?
R/N: I KNEW THEY WERE LYING.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
Valeria: Do you ever just.. think about not doing whatever comes to your mind?
R/N *stuck in a ball of rope.*: Sometimes I think that if I could do that I would be too powerful for you mere mortals.
Valeria: I'm not helping you.
R/N: WAIT NO PLEASE
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
R/N *picking up their bedroom*: This is actually nice.
*R/N accidentally breaking glass in a poster frame and cutting up their legs and feet.*
R/N: OH COME ON!
*Valeria walking into see blood everywhere and endless band aid wrappers.*
Valeria: I JUST WENT TO GO GET WATER.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
Valeria: You did what?
R/N: brought in this cool package that's wrapped up in a bag and layers of tape. It was just on the ground near one of these random trucks..
Valeria: ..and you opened it..
R/N: Yes, it had nothing cool in it.
Valeria: ... I need a break.
R/N: I licked my fingers after and I don't feel good.
Valeria: a break would be so nice.
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
Valeria: So, I let you go out with my men today to get out and wander.
R/N: Right.
Valeria: They turn around and your talking to this woman who had bunnies.
R/N: Correct.
Valeria: They turn around for a second and your gone.
R/N: I-
Valeria: Hush. And when they finally found you again, you were coming out of her basement.
R/N: Yes...
Valeria: ...AND YOU DONT SEE A PROBLEM WITH THAT?
R/N: Last time I got kidnapped, I met you...
Valeria: ...
R/N: She had more bunnies in her basement..
Valeria: THAT DOESNT MEAN-
♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤
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wildlife4life · 5 months
Text
WIP Wednesday
*Peeks head out from hidey hole* Hey ya'll...I'm back! It has been a hot minute since I've been truly active here. Getting through the holidays, getting ready for school, general stay at home mom stuff, and just literal lack of writers block/motivation kept from working on wips. But I have seen and very much appreciated every tag! Thank you for not forgetting about me!
Today I've been tagged by the wonderful and glamorous @giddyupbuck, @wikiangela, and @disasterbuckdiaz. Looking forward to all your upcoming works and loving all that has been posted already!
Alright, so I know several are wanting some NFL Buck and I promise I will be getting back to the fic once I am finished with my 4+1 Buck's kindness being a cockblocker. So here is some of that! Enjoy!
A tear-filled okay is Buck’s only answer and together with Eddie, they sit there for a long minute, listening to Maddie take several deep breaths, each one becoming smoother than the last. After the fourth deep breath, she answer’s Buck’s earlier worries, “No one is hurt. I’m sorry.” Her voice is a little rough and she hiccups, trying to hold back more sobs. “Okay that’s good. Means whatever has you breaking our ear drums is fixable.” Buck reassures. “Our ears?” Maddie repeats, “Oh god. Eddie?” Mortification leeched into her sadness. “I’m here. Gave Buck quite a scare, me too.” Eddie answers gently. A short second of silence, then the sound of skin smacking skin, “Oh my god, I forgot all about the kid free weeks of debauchery Buck and you had planned! Oh god! Are you two even dressed? Did I interrupt?” Buck’s cheeks flare bright red and Eddie’s brain comes to halt for a moment at the Maddie’s description of their time without Christopher. “I swear I did not call it that!” Buck hissed under his breath to Eddie. Maddie clearly heard him and gives an awkward cough, “Um no. Actually, those were Howie’s words. Apparently, Eddie, you didn’t hide the uh contents of your duffle that well.” “Dios.” Eddie groaned, his mind flashing to bag he had packed to stay with Buck for the next weeks. Of course, he didn’t bring just clothes and basic toiletries. While Buck had an impressive collection of toys and other pleasurable items of his own, Eddie was a bit possessive.  He wanted new, unused, and untouched by anyone but him and Buck. Mainly him. And Chimney somehow caught a glimpse of the debauchery Eddie was bringing with him. The elder Buckley sibling hummed, “Yea…” “Can I be struck by lightening again?” Buck mumbles, scraping a harsh hand down his heated face.
This fic is close to being done and I am super nervous because I am working on the final scene and its supposed to be very smutty with a very desperate Eddie. Never done that before and I'm hoping its up to standards. Anywho... Hope you all enjoyed! You can find previous snippets of this wip here.
Tagging (no pressure... bet you're surprised to me again! lol): @malewifediaz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998 @jeeyuns @devirnis @lover-of-mine @911onabc @911-on-abc @bekkachaos @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @theotherbuckley @ladydorian05 @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @eddiescowboy @vampbuckley @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @prosperdemeter2 @rainbow-nerdss @gayedmundodiaz
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mrs3vil · 9 months
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𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐕 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 “𝙝𝙤𝙩“ ★
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐟. gabriel o'hara, miguel o'hara, peter b parker ❞ 🎀
𝐢’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 with gabriel o'hara I had to insert him. also this is not smut or sexual (i mean technically it kinda is but whatever) only tws, old men and flustered spider people. also gabriel is kinda ooc 𓈒*◞🎻
𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 tried to keep the reader as gender neutral as possible! sorry of there are any specifications, also sorry for any mistakes but english isn't my first language!! 𓈒*◞🎻
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𝗚𝗔𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗟 𝗢’𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔
He thought you were talking about another Gabriel O'hara at first. You were mindlessly talking on the phone with one of your "spider friends" while walking right next to his private lab, loudly enough so that he could hear. He stopped doing whatever he was doing for a moment, moving his goofy goggles on his forehead. His heart beated faster against his chest, as if it was about to destroy his rib cage and come out just for you. It was the only thing on his mind for a few days, how your voice shaped perfectly those words, he would do anything to be called such things by you again. Now that he knew you liked him back, he was much more confident when awkwardly flirting with you.
𝗠𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗟 𝗢’𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔
He couldn't believe his ears. He's been "flirting" with you for some months, if of course, you consider being treated like a normal human being with feelings and opinions a flirt. He thought you weren't really interested, when really you just didn't even realize he was being "extra nice" to you, or at least, his idea of extra nice. But you had to admit, he wasn't bad looking, he wasn't at all actually he was hot, and apparently you were happy to admit it to Jess too. He swallowed as he leaned closer to the core of your voices, paying attention to staying hidden. He didn't know why he was being so dramatic about it, he felt like a little school girl, but suddenly, he desperately wanted to hear you praise him again.
𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗕 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗥
It immediately boosted his ego, a proud grin spreading across his features, finally his terrible dad jokes paid off. He listened carefully as you talked with one of the many Spiderwomen that were friends with you as you two giggled like to little girls at a pijama party. You started complimenting things he never realized about himself, and he couldn't do anything but lean closer to hear further how hot you thought he was. He could have listened for hours, if only he didn't trip on a wandering peace of paper that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Your eyes widened, your hands reaching to cover your mouth, trying to hide your red face. "Hello..."
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‧₊˚ ୨ HAHAKS im sorry if i didn't include hobie i just didn't have any inspiration for him today :( if yall liked this post tho i could include him in a pt 2 or smth. also reblogs and comments are very appreciated! goodnight and stay safe babes <3
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Text
Flesh (NSFW)
Singularity x Reader Smut (Sort of)
Hi guys! I know it's been a hot minute since I've posted anything and I apologize another thousand times. I feared school would take up too much of time and I was unfortunately correct, and today is my last day of Spring Break so I'm posting whatever I can as fast as I can ;7; Might just have to try to write HC's which can obviously be done faster
Anyways, have a small fic that doesn't necessarily involve the reader/you but it begs the question...can a robot dream? Imagine? Just trying something here lol
Warnings: Horny thoughts, mentions of gore(?), smut, vouyerism (?)
After a thorough inspection of some areas Hux had access to, he came to the conclusion that the Entity had called you. The greater being clearly required your services, much to his disliking, but as long as you were not running into the arms of another or purposely avoiding Hux he could be considered at bay. 
Before he had actually come to this finding, Hux had found it peculiar that you had not been waiting for him in the Huxlee Caracas when he departed from his latest match. Upon this realization he quickly sought you out, leaving Toba Landing to give you a piece of his mind once he found you lazing about at the survivor campfire. However, your form was nowhere in sight as he scrutinized every bit of the site. His sensors only caught sight of all the other worms, a handful missing because they were being put up against Hux’s “associates”, as he called them. 
A rather dissatisfying sight. Nonetheless, Hux continued on his way through the foggy woods that lead to each of the maps in the realm. Although as he made his route back to his own map, he was quick to sense a nearby presence. In fact, he was able to identify that there were actually two different bodies.
Worms that had strayed too far from their soil. 
Despite the stealthiness Hux sometimes lacked, he made it his new mission to find exactly where in the woods these two were located. But after much scouting around, it  almost made sense why he believed there was only one specimen after it seemed as though there was only one.
Once he was able to locate these beings deeper in the woods, as he used the fog and trees to conceal himself, in an open area he found what appeared to be a singular shape. Such a shape was perceived as something consisting of entangled limbs, humidity and so, so much flesh. The bundle of heat elicited various sounds, sounds he had only heard in the past in which he was another. Sounds that could only be made by humans who wanted to release their energy when the stresses of their tasks overcame them. Sounds made by something he comprehended now.
Upon closer inspection, it now registered in his mind that the entangled mess was not a mere web of flesh, but it was a pair of worms squirming in each others’ hold as they copulated on the cold ground. Their rags were spread underneath them to protect them from the ground’s dampness: one human on top while the one beneath them lay with ankles hooked around their hips. The dominant one of the two could be seen thrusting their pelvis into the other; forceful jerks that moved back and forth, increasing in pace by the second. 
Perhaps they were “blowing off some steam” like the crewmates tended to do in the Huxlee Caracas before they met their demise. 
It was not yet in Hux’s understanding why humans performed these actions, other than for reproductive reasons. He questioned why they decided to create a writhing mess of flesh where one entered the other’s body. It seemed pathetic and like such a waste of time. It was pitiful how, in between thrusts, the human on their back released the other’s shoulders to instead cradle their face. They pulled the other’s face down, pulling them down before they smashed their lips against each others’. If Hux had given himself eyes similar to a human’s, he would have easily rolled them at the sight of something so piteous. 
What he had instead were his sensors that zoomed in to watch these humans even closer than before, and he caught sight of what allowed one human to be inside of the other without them being torn limb from limb: an appendage that he lacked. Yet it was something he did not care for. 
However, Hux’s CPU did something he did not think possible.
Yes he was able to revisit moments he had recorded, and so images from earlier instances before you were forced to part from him played through his head as he continued to watch the couple. Images of you sitting before him with his body in between your legs as you held his face in your palms, features hidden in the crook of his neck as you planted a nibble on his faux flesh. It was like he felt your nibble all over again, and then your kisses, like a phantom touch as he replayed the moments. But suddenly the image of you changed: your body lacked every bit of your clothes. 
Never had he witnessed you completely unclothed, only having come across you in your undergarments when you were changing from your usual clothes into a jumpsuit from the ship. With this alone the image of you holding him was reconstructed, all your flesh in full view for his sensors to scan as you pulled him towards you. 
You lay on your back as Hux felt your ankles hooked around his hips. He thrust himself into you, forceful jerks that moved back and forth and increased in pace by the second. And with every jerk he elicited harmonious sounds from you, sounds that were breathy and desperate as you called out to him. Cried his name out for everybody in the Entity’s realm to hear. 
But only he could hear your cries that his CPU played for him, your cries that begged him not to stop. To move faster. To move harder. To fill you up with his genetic material.
He watched himself move faster and harder than before, watched as every move made you grip onto him like your life depended on it.
Your eyes were shut so tightly, head thrown back as your heart pounded in your chest hard enough for Hux to sense it. But even as you pulled yourself away from him to press into the surface behind you, you managed to crush his body against yours.
You were an entangled mess of flesh and machine, wriggling against each other like you were one. Hux could feel every jolt of pleasure as he pressed against you, the appendage in his lower region sending every signal throughout his self-made flesh. 
But suddenly his CPU made a realization: your legs were not wrapped around him and his body was not melding into your own. You were not in front of him, you weren’t sobbing at the feeling of his appendage inside you as he hit every sweet spot imaginable. 
He found himself yards away from the survivors, taking notice of the one on top giving one last powerful thrust before they each gave a sigh of elation. He watched them release each other, sharing one last kiss as they rode out their high, right before an uncomfortable and tingling sensation crept up their backs.
In an instant they whipped their heads around in Hux’s direction, looks of fear and embarrassment apparent on their expressions as they hurriedly parted ways and attempted to gather themselves. 
Hux did not care for their current conditions, already limping his way towards them with cruel intentions as they tried to make a run for it through the foggy woods. But Hux was faster than them, better of course, facts he already knew as he caught up to them in no time. 
He didn’t care much about the worm that had been on the receiving end, letting that one slither away as he downed their other half in an instant. He overlooked their body before his sensors caught sight of the very thing he was missing, a laughable attachment that required more genetic material. 
Hux had no need for this, he very well knew this. But Hux wanted it, DESIRED it in fact. He craved the ability to bury himself inside you, feeling your flesh from the inside without his killer instinct forcing him to open you up to feel your own human wirings. He craved becoming one with you without ending your pitiful, little life. 
Copulation was not a necessity for him in the slightest bit, but if these worms could enjoy it, why couldn’t he?
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