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#open to any other suggestions tbh
becca-e-barnes · 10 months
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I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.
Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy
But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.
You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.
"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.
"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.
There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.
Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.
He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.
"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."
That's got your attention.
You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.
You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.
Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.
"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."
He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.
He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.
When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.
"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.
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waywardsalt · 1 year
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my grievances with botw
Breath of the Wild is... undeniably a fantastic game, but it is very genuinely not the kind of game I like, and since I started playing it I’ve been enjoying it less and less so... I have a pair of problems with it that I’d figure I’d go into, as well as some stuff that, while weak in botw, were executed better in past loz games.
(small shoutout to @zeldanamikaze for encouraging this and having some points that i agree with and had some examples that i hadn’t thought about much initially)
Again, Breath of the Wild is an objectively impressive game, and I’m not trying to sit here and convince you that it’s a bad game. I’m just trying to point out things that detracted from my enjoyment of it, especially compared to my enjoyment of other Zelda games.
Before I get into the big stuff, I’ll just shoot off some quick little things that I think could’ve been improved:
- The dungeons generally felt like glorified shrines, and while they had cool mechanics and ways to access them, they were short and more or less pretty simple and all have similar visual and musical identities.
- Side quests and their rewards didn’t feel worth doing half of the time. I barely remember any notable ones off the top of my head and the longer ones just gave mostly generic rewards, which I suppose makes sense considering the limited amount of truly unique items in botw.
- Seeing the same enemies over and over again made the combat feel more like a chore than something to really engage with, not to mention that there is hardly any difficulty scaling beyond just making the enemies more durable.
- The story is fine, but in my experience, even seeing people go into more detail about the meanings of events, I never really cared for the events or the characters presented, since you don’t actually have to directly interact with any of that to play the game. Hell, you don’t even need to interact with the story at all to beat it, so the focus certainly doesn’t feel like it’s on the story.
- It would be a lie to call the soundtrack bad, but it’s sparse usage makes it hard to truly appreciate and the fact that most of it is meant to be more atmospheric generally makes them a bit less interesting to listen to on their own, though I will admit there are some fantastic tracks in botw, usually being some of the boss themes.
- While the Sheikah slate runes are cool, they feel very bland after a while, especially compared to the varied items seen in previous games. They’re good tools for an open world, but not much fun otherwise (the bombs were good though, since they had a variety of uses).
And that’s the quick stuff- again, mostly courtesy of @zeldanamikaze, since these are the examples I’ve seen her mention.
I have two big points that kind of encapsulate why I dislike this game and still adore the older games, that being: the minigames and the items and their relationships to dungeons.
Breath of the Wild is a very different game than what came past it, and I am very aware that it is a vast departure from those other games for a reason. However, this leads me to view it not only simply as a game not up my alley, but also as kind of inferior in some aspect to those previous Zelda games. Breath of the World is first and foremost an open world game, seemingly putting a focus on gameplay enjoyment above all else (not to imply that the ‘else’ is bad because of this, but I do think that the ‘else’ suffers in comparison to other Zelda titles.)
It may also be worth mentioning that the other Zelda games I have played is the following: LoZ NES, Link’s Awakening (Original and Remake), Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Phantom Hourlgass, Skyward Sword, A Link Between Worlds, and Triforce Heroes. I have also played both hyrule warriors games as well as loz 2, wind waker, and minish cap, none of the latter 3 i have finished or currently have access to.
1: The Minigames
Minigames are common in Zelda games, so of course botw has a few scattered around it’s world. Botw’s minigames are very different than the minigames seen in past Zelda games, mostly due in part to the limited array of items and unique gameplay gimmicks available in botw. Botw’s minigames usually focus on different forms of archery, gliding, or rune usage: all things integral to normal gameplay. At best you get rupees or cosmetic items from most minigames.
Botw’s minigames are just slightly altered situations of normal gameplay. The bowling is just using stasis except this time the game has a special little arena for it. Pretty much all of the archery games are either just counting how many deer you can kill or if you can just hit some targets on horseback. There’s one race I can think of and one gliding activity I can think of.
This makes sense, considering that there are a handful of other non-minigame activities to engage in, but these minigames feel... hollow. None of the minigames feature gameplay exclusive to those minigames or feature gameplay only used in certain parts of the game. They all make use of readily available mechanics in botw, so they’re like tests of skill- but otherwise not really any worth giving a second-thought unless you want to see how good of a glider or archer you are or grab some extra rupees.
But they aren’t very... worth it or generally fun within the context of botw. It’s just another way to do something that is available to you pretty much all game. They don’t feel unique, they just feel like a task.
Previous Zelda games (obviously) have archery minigames and allow you to use archery when you get the bow and from that point onward. And yet the archery minigames are made unique from the rest of the archery in the game; ocarina of time’s archery minigame is simply just shooting at targets, but the possible rewards and the simple fact that not often are you going to be continuously shooting arrows at enemies make it a bit of a novel experience within oot. The minigames in past zelda games take advantage of the items and area-specific mechanics: they usually include item-exclusive mechanics like bombchu games, or take advantage of more specific mechanics, like the minecarts in skyward sword, the masks in majora’s mask, or being able to control gongoron in phantom hourglass.
They also gave genuine rewards- empty bottles, quest items, ship parts, new masks, heart containers or pieces, kinds of stuff that are hard to get and very valuable. They’re worth doing for reasons outside of just a little activity. The minigames in other Zelda games do really enhance the experience by taking advantage of situational mechanics or giving a unique usage for some items.
You can probably get every item in botw without playing all of the minigames. They have little actual purpose. But in other zelda games, they have a purpose in the greater game and provide novel experiences within the game.
2: Items and their relationships with the dungeons
Obviously, compared to past games, botw’s ‘dungeons’ kind of sucked. They’re fine in a vacuum, with interesting gimmicks and the like, but they’re really little more than glorified shrines with four different-but-similar bosses at the end.
In my opinion, one of reasons why the divine beasts just... fell flat compared to other zelda dungeons is the lack of unique items in general. The runes in botw are cool and useful but you get them at the start of the game and never get anything new. You are give every tool you need to beat all of the dungeons the moment you finish the tutorial.
Older zelda games’ dungeons being tied to their respective items is a big part- to me- of what makes those dungeons so good.
Obviously, the theming, musical themes, and larger layouts and more varied puzzles make them objectively better experiences, but the way they interact with item acquisition makes the whole thing even better. 
Even in a link between worlds, where you can get every item whenever you want from Ravio, each dungeon is still tied to one of those items, and one of those items is needed to successfully complete that dungeon.
The dungeons in past Zelda games are practically complex tutorials on how you can use your new items. They are where those items shine and they are designed so that those items are used to their fullest potential within. And then you must then use that item to defeat that dungeon’s boss, and you usually have no chance of beating that boss if you don’t make use of the dungeon’s associated item. It’s like a final test for the item, seeing if you know how it works enough to complete the dungeon and use it against a boss’s weaknesses.
The most recent example, and probably one of the best, is needing to use the whip to tear off koloktos’ arms in the ancient cistern, but the classic scenario of the bombs for king dodongo works well enough, and the bosses of majora’s mask requiring you to understand how the transformation masks work. There are definitely some bosses that require no use of dungeon items (moldorm in the tower of hera, either ghirahim fights), but the item’s usage is still showcased prominently in their dungeons.
Outside of the dungeons, too, the progressive acquisition of items makes more areas and secrets available to you, giving a much more palpable sense of progression through those games’ worlds.
In botw, you get every tool the moment you are released into the rest of hyrule, so while figuring out what to do with those tools can be fun, the sense of progression is dampened by having every item from the start and nothing you gain beyond that being needed for anything aside from a nice little ability to make things easier.
I’m not really too sure exactly why I never found botw fun the way everyone else does, but I think lackluster minigames and the general lack of items that aid a sense of progression are parts of it.
#loz#legend of zelda#botw#salty talks#i feel like im swinging at a hornets nest by suggesting that this game isn't perfect#cuz everywhere you look this game is praised incessantly while its like. i think its fine at best tbh#because it's really not to my tastes#i highly prefer the experience that the other loz games provide and botw dropped off for me while i still enjoy those games#like. open world games arent really my thing and a game packed to the gills with just as much shit as possible is a major turn off for me#this was going to have three points but playing totk exhausted me mentally and i dont really care any more. i dont find these games fun#the tutorial islands felt tedious after a bit and like. idk. good game but i have yet to find myself actually having fun with it#it kinda feels like its fun in concept but the fact that it doesnt necessarily feel got to play to me and progress is slow and based on#like. slow exploration? its fine but its not something i actually enjoy. its not teh difficulty bc i like elden ring and hades n stuff#like. i have more fun with ph than totk. idk. playing totk was like. entertaining? but it kinda ust felt hollow to me#granted i just like. unlocked the first tower and did some shrines but like. idk. good game. i don't think i actually like it too much#i really think these two points kind of maybe explain why these games just fail to click with me#things in older zelda games have specific purposes and can be more situational than pretty much anything in botw/totk so far#it feels. better. to find an item that fits a specific purpose in older loz games. they're more gimmicky.#i feel that open world games (similar to botw/totk) are dragged down by the sheer freedom they allow to me at least#there's too much to do and you're allowed to do whatever so it all feels kind of. standard theres not much purpose to it#the tedium of botw/totk is much more grating than the tedium i experience in skyward sword's lanayru desert#because you HAVE to go through and figure out lanayru desert to continue the story get new items find new dungeons#botw/totk you kinda just get some items and maybe a lackluster quest or some fucking environment thing#long post#idk. im not too far into totk while writing this but rn in a weird way it and botw feel empty to me in a way i cant express#i enjoyed botw at first but after beating it and all it just felt kinda boring and unsatisfying to replay
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moviestarmartini · 17 days
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GOSHH i want to write something with this song but idk for whooo
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toytulini · 8 months
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wish ig wasnt so fucked i do miss posting art on there but itll never be like that again. how zuck managed to make it feel physically bad and gross to use an app is incredible. its like a corpse of the app i used to use. a bad puppet. a shell. parading around, empty and awful. came back wrong. i cant use it the way it is anymore. "reels" and "stories" and the algorithm. im not using those. im not using that. it feels gross. its sliming me. its oozing slime out of my phone. i just wanted to make posts. have all my stupid art in one place and chill with my mutuals. but no. its trying to sell me ads and pretty people. and now i cant view my notifications bc it sold pretty people too hard and broke teenager's brains. itstelling me to watch reels. all the people i follow are posting their posts in their stories that im not watching bc ive refused to evolve the way i use that app past like 2016. why dont ppl just make posts. what the fuck is the point of stories. is that not just snapchat? im not downloading that either
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i think it would be incredibly funny to deliver elizabeth’s coffin while crab rave is playing, each person from a colonized country gets to do whatever the fuck they want with the coffin, we pass it along the sea of people and just drop her wherever when we’re done and want to go home
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astarriscus · 2 years
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sobs i have so many wips but help i need to write this soon so like. who wld be good for the bodyguard in a bodyguard x florist au !! more info in tags, any fandom ok >.<
so far im thinking diluc or xiao wld be gd but idk who else atm ehwhjdjs its 1 am HELP LMFAO
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cyberm4n · 2 months
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You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)
alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!
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pt1, pt2
this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!
tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21
cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive
other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.
left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.
■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least
■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship
■ which both are fine with btw
■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever
■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him
■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage
■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know
■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor
■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before
■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.
■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you
■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything
■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it
■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it
■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling
■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you
■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other
■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast
moving on
■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that
■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them
■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge
■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart
■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would
■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do
■ same if you're upset with both
■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition
■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(
■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.
■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough
■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments
■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt
■ anyways, they both come in, it's late
■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little
■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely
■ you've never cried like this before
■ it scares them. alot.
■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.
■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you
■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.
■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone
■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset
■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back
■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night
■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised
■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.
"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.
"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.
"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.
"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.
"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.
lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.
■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"
■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times
■ but he's impressed alastor even asked
■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.
■ that night changed a lot between them tbh
■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed
■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.
■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities
■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist
■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable
■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing
■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous
■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him
■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.
■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted
■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure
■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"
after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.
he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.
without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.
and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.
and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.
as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.
“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”
when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.
after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.
alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:
“just keep cuddling her”
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taintedcigs · 9 months
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even if it’s a false god — e.m.
part two; we'd still worship this love
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pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader
warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.
summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)
a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em
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“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him. 
“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned. 
“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.
“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle. 
“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned. 
“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.
You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door. 
Jesus fucking Christ.
You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point. 
They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good. 
And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy. 
He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.
You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time. 
He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.
Just like you.
So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.
It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple. 
But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.
Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there. 
When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could. 
You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.  
You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl. 
It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment. 
But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—
What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen. 
Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect. 
“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.
“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible. 
“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”
“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips. 
“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.
“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.
“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.
That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?
“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.
“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.
“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.
You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.
It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.
But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.
“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.
“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time. 
You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.
But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.
He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.
“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now. 
“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.
“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.  
He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.
He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties. 
He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible. 
“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged. 
“Don’t care, sweetheart.” 
“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this. 
He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch. 
Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying. 
He pulled back to look at you. 
Sweet Jesus.
His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips. 
You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.  
Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now. 
“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you. 
Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat. 
“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.
“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned. 
And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. 
But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were. 
He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”
“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit. 
“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.” 
You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.
When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him. 
You were perfect. 
His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.
“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more. 
The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.
“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted. 
“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you. 
“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in. 
Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning. 
“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away. 
No. No. No. No!
“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again. 
His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow. 
“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good. 
You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred. 
God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.
“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige. 
Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size. 
It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.
“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”
You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever. 
He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.
He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.
You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.
The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.
And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him. 
“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction. 
“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips. 
It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.
He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours. 
Was it fucked up? Yes.
Did it feel good? Absolutely. 
“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.
This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.
You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction. 
“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless. 
You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.” 
“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.
And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear. 
You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.
But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.
Don’t. 
You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever. 
“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.” 
“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again. 
“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly. 
“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted.  “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore. 
And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.
“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed. 
“Shit, feels so good, Eds.” 
“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge, 
“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his. 
Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath. 
“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”
“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls. 
He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs. 
The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.
Was all of it worth it?
The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.
All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.
You were so fucking pathetic.
Jesus Christ.
You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?
As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.
You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.
Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—
“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.
Shit. Just shut the fuck up.
“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.
“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.
“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.
“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.
“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.
“What?” He asked, baffled.
“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.
“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.
“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.
“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”
“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.
“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.
“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.
“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.
He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.
He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.
He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.
''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.
Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.
“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction
“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.” 
“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.
“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.
“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.
He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.
The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem. 
“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.
“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.
And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.
There was nothing he could do now.
“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.
Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.
You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.
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nvirskies · 3 months
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it's getting hot in here - c. la rue
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warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read
summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.
hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue
word count: 1.3k
taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte
from this post !
a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni
It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.
And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.
Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 
In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 
She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.
Something about you entranced her. 
She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 
Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 
As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.
It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.
The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 
She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 
Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 
The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.
“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 
And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.
Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.
Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.
After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.
Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.
“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.
“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.
Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 
After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 
“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.
Or so you thought.
“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”
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determunition · 6 months
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i took the switcheroo week as an excuse to finally try my hand at some scrybeswap designs! got a bit carried away as you can see, i love doing character design so much
decided to keep their species/major design elements fairly consistent (e.g. grimora's makeup, mag being vague and indistinct, leshy having nonhuman legs, p03 only having one arm) while still switching up their aesthetics as needed; super happy with all of these as a result!
design notes for each scrybe under the cut! def open to any further questions or curiosities, i always think way too hard about characters while designing them lmao
P03:
scrybe of the dead: i went for a possessed tv vibe; he's still mechanical but those bones do have a living soul trapped in them...also shoutout to @squid-hug for suggesting the x-ray machine, i was very tickled by that lmao
scrybe of beasts: overgrown old bot was kind of a given for this one, but i was also thinking that the plants are part of what's keeping him running somehow
scrybe of magicks: the magic eye is the core powering that top monitor, and the two side monitors display what he's seeing with that eye at any given time
grimora:
scrybe of beasts: she's a witch! like a chill terry pratchett kind of witch, she works with a lot of herbs and such; also her makeup is meant to mimic blood drops
scrybe of magicks: magick grimora is more of a warlock type, her magic is a lot more sinister and she almost never opens her eyes (whereas her third eye is basically always open)
scrybe of tech: tech grimora is kind of a wacky machinist-flavored dr. frankenstein; she inscribes by writing on circuitboards!
leshy:
scrybe of the dead: this leshy is a gargoyle/vampire hybrid! i thought a mirror would be fun for him bc you can get two different cultural refs; medusa (bc stone gargoyle), and the idea that vampires don't appear in mirrors!
scrybe of magicks: i decided to make him a bird guy (kinda harpy-esque) bc he's basically a more whimsical baba yaga hermit; the baba yaga thing carries over from slavic folklore obvs. also he has polycoria!
scrybe of tech: tech leshy was super fun, bc he's steampunk! rather than animal legs i gave him digitigrade robot legs, but other than that he's the most like, normal human guy here probably lmao; despite his well-adjusted appearance though i still think he's got a bit of freaky wonk in him
magnificus:
scrybe of the dead: this one was very ring-inspired lol, got those clump of hair you found in the shower drain vibes
scrybe of beasts: bush magnificus real! i think he'd be a bit more quirky trickster fae in this form
scrybe of tech: one of my favorites; tech mag is an emaciated cyborg draped in so many loose cords and wires that you can't tell what he looks like anymore. a lot of those cords are connected to him, and he plugs them in wherever as needed! he also has a drawing stylus, making him just an average art student tbh lmao
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
Note
the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)
Oof fuck yeah 😎
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)
He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.
And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe
You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs
He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm
“You have any idea what you’ve done?”
“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance
“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”
“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,
“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”
(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)
After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door
Consequences, love
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
The least restraint out of all of them tbh
He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team
As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers
You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest
“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys
“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building
“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”
He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you
By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished
John Price:
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-
John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you
So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.
Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.
He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited
You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’
If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.
And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.
He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom
The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable
You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand
‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’
He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.
And serve you he did.
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mikrokcsmos · 1 year
Text
That That (I Like That)
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synopsis; in which your boyfriend’s loud moans and groans wake you up from your sleep at 4 in the morning and you’re about ready to throw hands — and so is he, but for completely different reasons.
pairing; vlive!jungkook x girlfriend!reader
genre; twinge of angst, mainly fluff and humor, Weverse live au
rating; PG-13
warnings; the word damn (x2) and suggestive dialogue/themes, just boyfriend koo in all his glory tbh
w/c; 1,283
a/n; don’t mind the poor excuse of a banner I tried to make on my own. shout out to @sftk0o for the perfect icons 💕
You tried to ignore it, you really did; believing the first loud moan you heard was a part of the not so innocent dream you found yourself in that involved your boyfriend only moments ago. Eyelids closing as you relaxed your body once more, head snuggling back into your pillow to begin the descent back into said racy dreamland — only for it to be interrupted by a loud distanced slam, your body tensing in fear, heart racing.
“DAMN.” He grunted, no – moaned out loud, you picturing his face instantly – brows pinched in concentration and nose scrunched cutely, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Can almost hear the low whine in your head that he always does just as he finishes—
Hands immediately searched the bed next to you for a warmth that was non-existent, all that greeted you being the cold fabric of the sheets that have been pulled back for quite some time it seemed. Another loud slam, accompanied by the same noticeable whine following not even a second later has you pushing yourself out of the bed, but this time not in fear, no.
This time it was because of pure and unadulterated anger.
Running on pure adrenaline, head in a fog and mind racing with worst case scenarios to what you’re about to witness has your bare feet bringing you closer and closer to where the noise continues to resonate from — the kitchen.
Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you freeze, hand on wall, a drawn out ‘damn’ piercing your ears that has your eyes welling with bitter tears on the verge of falling. Nails digging into the white of the wall, you push off, utilizing the momentum to push you the rest of the way into the kitchen and in full view of the sight in front of you.
Your voice dies in your throat, before it reaches your mouth, and you remain silent.
Jungkook has his head face down into the edge of the table, fists clenched on either side as his arms flex from the action. Quietly, you edge forward towards his hunched over form, eyes scanning the room around you for any other human other than yourself, and your body sags in relief as you start to piece together the cause of the grunts, moans, and curses.
Food. Fucking food. You should’ve known.
The aroma fills your nostrils, causing your own mouth to salivate and you weren’t even hungry. The smell of freshly sautéd chicken, scallions, and melted cheese wafts in the air along with the nutty flavors of sesame oil from the large skillet that still sits on the burner of the stove built into the table, most of its contents long gone. A bowl of microwaveable white rice sits next to a clenched fist, the other one now raised in the air as if preparing to strike someone, a spoon nestled in the last remnants.
Jungkook, still high off his food induced fever, pushes himself up to immediately unleash the finger guns of a choreo you know all too well at this point, his hips thrusting in time to the tune you have no doubt is engrained in his brain at this point as well as yours.
Despite your best efforts to remain as quiet as possible, you not missing the way his phone is suspiciously propped up against a stack of cookbooks neither of you have bothered opening yet that lets you know he’s currently live on Weverse, a puff of laughter from your lips causes him to pause mid hip thrust, wide doe eyes landing on your amused figure.
“The food was that good, hm?”
A sheepish, guilty grin is all you get in reply, his feet moving him towards you. When he’s close enough, his head dips down to brush a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Did I wake you?” He quietly questions, brows furrowed in worry when he notices the red that is prominent along your eye line. “Did you have a bad dream? Were you crying?”
The questions are in rapid succession, and you have to place the palms of your hands against his lightly stubbled chin, pressing his cheeks together and making his lips pucker at you like a fish to get him to stop talking long enough for you to explain.
“Your wanton moans are what woke me up, made me think that there was—,” you trail off, voice barely a whisper. “—other activities taking place in here that didn’t involve eating food.”
The sharp intake of breath he does let’s you know he understands the hidden meaning behind your words, his hands coming up to pull yours off of his face, and bring your body flush against his. A frown is now prominent on his usually smiling lips.
“Baby, I hope you know I would never cheat on you. Especially not in our house, and in our kitchen. This—,” his large hands trail down your sides, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. “—is all I’ll ever want or need. You are it for me, jagi.”
A heat makes it’s way up your neck and to your cheeks, his words warming your heart and the inner guilt that festers within you unraveling.
As you stare into his brown eyes, you see nothing but truth and love, nothing but future and promise.
“I know. Im sorry for even allowing the thought to cross my mind. It was stupid of me to think. Besides, I don’t think I have to worry about any person stealing you away from me.” Your fingers interlock behind his neck, arms hanging loosely around his neck. “Food on the other hand? Now that’s what I should be concerned of. That chicken had you making noises I only ever heard you make in the bedroom.”
His head drops into the crook of your neck as he lets out an embarrassed whine, warm breath and lips that brush against your collarbone making goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shiver. His arms circle your waist in a vice grip as his upper body relaxes against your shorter one.
“Sleepy, baby?”
“Mhm. ‘m tired.” He mumbles into your skin sleepily, voice laced with a newfound exhaustion due to his full and satiated belly.
“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”
“Yep, just gotta turn the live off first.”
“Jeon Jungkook, you and your random late night lives will literally be the death of you.”
He reluctantly straightens up, arms leaving your body to stretch up into the air above his head as he lets out a loud yawn.
“No, they won’t, baby.”
“Need I remind you of the candle incident?”
Eyes squinting at you, tongue in cheek, he remains silent and you know you’ve won this round.
“I’ll be waiting in bed, don’t take too long, okay?”
You take a step back as he takes a step forward, lips chasing yours for a quick, yet equally as lingering kiss that makes your breath catch in your lungs. Noses touching, he whispers so only you can hear.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, and your foodgasms.”
You snicker and turn to make a fast getaway, his fingertips only having enough time to graze the swole of your ass as you skip away from him and disappear around the corner until you’re out of sight.
It only takes five minutes for his sock clad feet to slide into the entrance of your room, and two seconds for his body to land on yours as you erupt into a fit of laughter on your shared bed that turns into soft sighs, grunts and moans that you know is because of you this time.
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harmonysanreads · 27 days
Note
Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33
Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3
(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)
Inure
yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio
cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)
wc : 1k
hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>
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Inconveniences come in many forms.
Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.
Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.
A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.
In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.
You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.
At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.
Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.
You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.
You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.
That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.
By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.
Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.
They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!
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being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
Note
OMG imagine the one bed trope w miguel. like idk why itd happen, maybe like they’re scoping out an anomaly in another universe and somehow the portal back gets blocked and they gotta stay the night at a hotel, but miguel and reader are stuck in the same bed (she SWEARS she booked two beds but oops! all the rooms are filled up!) and like oh no they need this hotel!! so at first they’re really rigid and like miguel’s all tense, he’s like “i’ll sleep on the floor” but reader is like “no it’s okay we can share! i don’t move a lot in my sleep anyway” (that’s a lie btw.) so then like miguel’s wide awake in the middle of the night, and reader keeps shifting in her sleep, and they end up in a pretty compromising position if ykwim… and then maybe she wakes up and finds miguel like so flustered and starts teasing him a bit and then things heat up ofc… idk just a thought! it’s been so long since i’ve seen the one bed trope tbh. (fem reader btw plssss)
Forced Proximity
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i tried with my best with this 🫠 i wanted to try something new instead of regular p in v i hope that's okay 😭 thank u for requesting! if anything, i'd be happy to redo this when my requests open again
Miguel x Reader, Suggestive/Smut, Word Count: 2,271
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Just as you and Miguel were about to shoot your webs at the new anomaly, a black bubbly portal opened up and sucked them up into another dimension. “Dammit!” You cursed, groaning at the convenience of an anomaly escaping. Miguel is already beside you, mask eyes squinted in focus as he clicks buttons on his watch. “Where’d he run off to?” You ask him. “No clue. Trying to track him now but the touchpad isn’t responding.” He grunts and furiously taps his screen but it seems to be glitching. He tries to open a portal back to HQ but it only warbles a little bit before shutting close again. “Let me try.” You lift up your watch to try and press the same coordinates when it responds the same way: a little warping but it shuts close. “Lyla,” Miguel calls out and she pops up between you two. “Run an analysis on our watches.” Her small heart glasses fog up with various numbers and letters, codes that only she knows. “Looks like the watches are bugged, Mig. Probably an effect the anomaly had.” “So we’re stranded?” You rip off your mask and place a hand on your hip. “Yup!” She nods. “For how long?” Miguel pinches his nose bridge with his finger and thumb.
“Well, most part-time spiders are off doing other missions in other dimensions and the other half of them have the day off. No one will be available until morning.” “So, we’re staying the night.” You lift your arms up and slap them down. “I’m finding a hotel.” You turn and look around for any around you two. Miguel sighs and faces Lyla. “Is there another way home? Are we safe from the glitching?” Lyla nods, pulling up frames and data for him to look at. “Safe from glitching. Probably just a program issue. Maybe an update issue. Unfortunately, not even Margo is at HQ so your next bet is waiting for a spider to portal you two back.” She explains and glitches out of the air. He tries to find a new solution but comes up short, deciding to just accept it before he grows angry. Miguel hears you calling his name as you run back to where Lyla and him were standing. “Okay, I found a hotel! I talked to this lady up front–luckily the currency is the same as yours–and we got extra lucky,” You huffed with a wide smile on your face. “They’re pretty busy but she managed to get us a room with two beds and two bathrooms. Left her a tip, hope you don’t mind.” You placed your hands on your hips and continued to grin at the frown on his lips.
Miguel rolled his eyes and called for Lyla, her little form glitching back and perching on his shoulder. “Lyla, get back to base. Let the others know we’ve been stranded and call for backup whenever someone’s available.” Her vibrant yellow glare shifts as she moves, her hand coming up in a salute and a police hat glitching on her head. “You got it, boss! Have fun you two!” She giggles and phases out. Miguel passes by you coldly, heading for the hotel where you booked for the night. You yawn behind him, just wanting to rest after a wasted day of failing to catch an anomaly. You walked through the hallways of the hotel, checking down at your key for the number of your room. Once you found it, you slipped the keycard on the lock and opened the door. “Home sweet–” You cut yourself off after peeking into the room and what greeted you was a singular bed. “Wha–?!” You glanced back at the roomkey number and the plate outside, finding the two matching that this was indeed your room for the night. “I swear I asked for two–” “I’ll take the floor.” Miguel grumbles behind you, his entire frame stiff and rigid. You take a look up at him and his face is unamused and staring straight ahead to avoid your eye. “No, it’s–it’s fine,” You chuckle nervously and walk over to the bed. You pat the edge of it and try to convince yourself and Miguel that everything was fine. “There’s so much space. It’s like–what– a king size? We have plenty of room to share!” Miguel doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest, already making a move to grab a pillow. “I don’t even move that much in my sleep! Promise! Pinky promise.” You hold up your pinky to Miguel and he stops to stare at your hand with a deadpan expression. “Fine.” He grunts, placing the pillow back down and not wanting to deal with you any further since he was exhausted.
You, in fact, actually do move a lot in your sleep–Miguel figured out. He really was exhausted and expected himself to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow but with you next to him, it was like the energy hadn’t left his body. He laid there straight as a pole with the blanket at his chest and staring at the ceiling. You were in dreamland, snoozing and sprawled on the mattress– blissfully unaware of Miguel’s misery by the situation at hand. You shifted around in your sleep, your hand hitting his shoulder or your leg bumping against his ankle. Miguel could handle it. He’s spent many uncomfortable all-nighters so he thought to himself that one more wouldn’t be too damaging for him. It wasn’t until you moved further to his side of the bed that had Miguel’s heart racing. You turned to his side, throwing your leg over his and your arm draped around his neck to bring him closer to you. His arm instinctively went under your body and held your waist while you pressed yourself against him, so as to not make the position uncomfortable for either of you. Miguel’s cheeks burned while you nuzzled to his chest, acting like he was some sort of teddy bear. He hoped his heartbeat wouldn’t wake you from your slumber. Your thighs were close together and any closer you’d start accidentally grinding on him. Miguel looked back up at the ceiling and prayed that you’d move soon.
His prayers were not answered. You woke up after feeling a bit too much heat and it became unbearable to sleep through. You blinked away the sleep groggily, wondering why the pillow you had been on had gotten a little more firm. You lifted your head to see you weren’t on your pillow but basically cuddling up against your boss. You looked down to see your legs intertwined together and turned your head to apologize when you stopped seeing Miguel’s cheeks flush red. His eyes did not meet yours but you felt the pounding of his heart. A smile curled up on your lips, apology wiped off your mind and instead leaning into wanting to taunt him for how shy he’s acting. “Miguel,” You tease with a bit of laughter. “Aw, c’mon. A little accidental cuddle gets you nervous?” Miguel glares at you from the corner of his eye. As you laugh, you continue moving against him. You don’t notice how he takes a sharp inhale when your knee brushes against his crotch as you lift yourself up. Your hands rest on either side of his head. “Did you even sleep? Or did you just stay up all night like some perv?” You snort, having the time of your life seeing your usually sulking boss look so cute with red scattered across his cheeks. Miguel squeezes your waist then uses both his hands to grab you and force you down on his thigh. You gasp in shock, all playfulness leaving your body as your core hits his firm muscle. The action ignites a spark in your chest that sends it straight between your legs, making you whimper, all in a split second.
You snap your head towards him, cheeks already burning and mouth dropped open in shock. Miguel meets it with a cheshire like grin, his own blush on his cheeks but less now that you’re  more flustered than him. “Careful,” He says. “Wouldn’t want to be some sort of perv, huh?” You could’ve sworn his voice dropped down an octave. You stutter, unable to respond back as he rendered you speechless. His thigh flexed and it sent a jolt up your spine with your cunt throbbing which he felt. Maybe it was him being tired, drained from the day that he was acting out of character. Too tired to care about the consequences while his mind clouded and numbed his usual feelings. For now, he enjoyed the way your hands gripped onto his shoulders, cute eyes wide open and feeling the delicious beat of your pussy on his thigh. He rubs your hips on his thigh, his muscle flexing to put some stimulation to your pussy. You squeak and lean forward as the pleasure runs through your body and makes you grow hot. “Miguel…!” You gasp and moan. You automatically grind yourself on him and his grin widens, leaning back to see the show. Miguel feels your wetness seep through the thin fabric of your suit and panties onto his own suit. He phases just a small part of his thigh out his suit to feel just how wet you’ve gotten with a little teasing. “Already?” He murmurs and your cheeks burn brightly. “You like this, huh?” “Fuck…” You huff out, hanging your head to not meet his gaze. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he moves your hips. “C’mon. Show me how much you like this.” You know he was only doing this to get back at you for teasing him, for booking a one bed instead of two and with how his patience had run out from being stranded here, you decided not to test that anger anymore.
So you slowly moved up and down his thigh with a soft whimper, shutting your eyes close while you did so. Your breathing grew heavy, and you shook with every slight movement on his end. Slowly, you picked up speed, the lust flooding your mind and the pace you were going at hadn’t been enough. You humped his thigh faster, still opting out of looking down at him. “Shit…Not enough…” You murmured under your breath, not thinking he’d heard you over the accumulating wet sounds on his skin and shuffling of bed sheets. “Let me help.” You hear him say and feel his hand by the zipper of your suit at the nape of your neck. Weak from your pleasure, you let him tug your suit off your torso. Miguel tapped your thighs as a signal to lift yourself up while he slipped the rest of it off you. You were now bare in front of him, his hands placed back at your hips. You still felt embarrassed, trying to cover up your chest with your arms and hands. Miguel wasn’t having it, growing annoyed at you covering yourself. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you flushed down on his chest. “Keep going.” He growled. The rumble of his voice went straight to your cunt once more, succumbing to him as you began grinding yourself on him, skin to skin. Your folds smeared your juices on his thighs coating him in your wetness. The swollen nub of your clit rolled deliciously between you and his thigh and you panted softly as you tried chasing you high.
“There you go. That’s it.” Miguel murmured, bucking his thigh to your pussy to the same pace of your humping. He held your hip with one hand to help you and his other hand raked up and down your back, his talons scratching your flesh. “You’re doing so good. Good girl riding my thigh, yeah?” He purred which made you groan and buck your hips faster. “Miguel…” You breathed out. “More, more.” You pleaded. His talons pricked your skin. “Cum on my thigh first and maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
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Peter B. met you two once the portal fully opened up in your stranded dimension. He greeted you with a smile, Mayday babbling in her carrier. “Hey! Glad you guys survived the night. Took a minute to get you guys. Sorry about that.” He playfully punched Miguel’s and your shoulder. You beamed at him and held Mayday’s little hand, wiggling it around softly enough to make her giggle. “Hope it wasn’t agonizing.” Peter chuckles to you. You chuckle back and step away from Mayday, giving the two a smile. “Not at all. He’s surprisingly good company.” Miguel doesn’t react behind you. “Oh, yeah? Must be going soft. Big guy isn’t just pleasant for anybody.” Peter says. “Funny how things work out.” You grin and turn around to peck Miguel’s cheek and walk towards the portal. “I’ll see you guys later?” You give a wink and slip into the portal, your body phasing out and leaving the two men behind. Peter gapes at the warping space where you had just left and slowly turns to Miguel to see his friend, very much stiff but his face has a slight tint to it. “Did something happen–” Miguel shoves his face aside and phases his mask over his head to hide his cheeks. “Cállate.” He mutters and enters into the portal towards his dimension.
Peter gets snapped out of his stupor by Mayday babbling and waving her arms around as if cheering Miguel and you on. Peter looks down at her and grabs her little hand in his. “He’s growin’ up, huh?” Mayday squeals.
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
Text
Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again
Requested: yes
Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."
48) "I love our cuddles."
49) "Stay here tonight."
Warnings: none tbh
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Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.
Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"
"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.
Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."
"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."
Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."
Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.
Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."
Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."
The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.
Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.
Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."
Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.
As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.
Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"
As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.
The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."
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Note
Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)
PLEASE
🥰
(If possible?)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs
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content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????
lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr
you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???
until his quest - well, failed quest
he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in
chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter
chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.
you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin
and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems
after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you
he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose
he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it
then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand
"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy
luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises
you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush
"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong
you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin
you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy
"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags
"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom
"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his
a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands
he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head
but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin
"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket
but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart
and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin
for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him
not with the defender of REM cycle there
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