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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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Morticia and Gomez Effect pt. 2

Mihawk X FemReader

Since people liked this made a part two!

Part 1 <<<

• Mihawk mood had been fowl as of late, Clearly issues had been getting to him silently. His wine intake growing and his irritation rising

• You needed to fix this, Anger was never the most attractive look for your husband anyway-

• He had been home for two days and still hadn't spoke. Instead sitting in his study and doing paperwork while drinking, Sometimes the waft of cigar smoke greeting you as well from the halls.

• "Growling at the wall?" You call out seeing him sitting there scowling at the wall with his face turned up like a beast growling.

• He glanced at you, Seeing you close the door behind you, as well as noticing your done up appearance- mainly the black dress that fit you like a lustful sin he had bought some time again- already lessening his angry face.

• "I am in no mood Wife, leave me" He said with a irritated sigh. He never called you 'Wife' only when truly upset did he say this, Just like how when he was furious he would use your name.

• "I see, so you don't wish for your spirits to be lifted?" You said with a smirk starting to crawl across your face. Walking to the other side of his desk to close a curtain.

• "No- nor do I wish for whatever parlor trick you have p-pla-" Mihawk couldn't even finish his sentence as you pulled down the front of your dress flashing him your naked chest with a smile.

• Just like any man at any age his eyes widened and mind blank at the sight of breast. You quickly pulling the dress back up with a smile.

• He frozen, His drink almost falling from his hand if he didn't clumsily catch it and hold it steady.

• Mihawk stared at you for a moment like he was trying to formulate a response, his stoic face starting to break as a hearty laugh broke through his lips. His woes easily being wiped away by your trick as he tried to wave it away.

• "Dragostea mea (My Darling) you are too much, drawing me from my mood in such a childish way" He mused as he reached his arm out and pulling you into his lap.

• You smile at his words and nestle yourself against his strong chest, Your fingers playing with the cross on his chest.

• "Well anything for you my Love~" You smile and pepper kisses on his face and lips. He gives a delighted groan and his hand travels to find the zipper of the dress.

• "Idle hands my Love" You warn making him grumble for a short while- Mainly cause you both knew what was coming.

• His lips falling from its smile as the door bursted open and Perona March in like she owned the place. Recently you had been in charge of training her- Especially since you felt like Mihawk was too soft on her.

• Mihawk sighed as he sat up and saw Perona standing there making a face at the two of you.

• "So Gross!-" She tried as she stared at you two and invaded the space, You smoothing down your dark gown as you stared at the young woman with a amused face.

• "What do you want Perona?" Mihawk said as she stomped into the room, You watching her glare at you and look away flustered.

• "I never got a thank you from you for my recent mission!" She yelled as she pointed to you

• "Thats because you failed-" You spoke plainly.

• "I didn't fail!" She began to rant about the events of loosing to someone who flashed rainbow colors and worse 'disgusting' pastels.

• "So you lost to someone in pastels, Didn't get the information needed, didn't listen to the advice I gave you for the last mission. Now you come through here causing a ruckus cause I will not reward you?" You spoke very carefully, watching her stiffen at the lace of irritation through your voice.

• She shuffled a bit awkwardly and gave a single nod. You sighing at this-

• "Now your failing in the mission is one thing but my darling girl- Being beaten by Pastels?" You mused, she had fallen prey to a pastel nightmare was just too much of a burn. Her face turning as pink as her dress as she fluttered out screaming and throwing a temper tantrum thankfully she slammed the door closed behind her.

• Mihawk sighing as he leaned in his chair and pulled you back against him properly.

• "Disobedient" You hummed with a tired sigh.

• "If we had our own they would be more obedient and skilled" He mused, You feeling him place another kiss to the back of your neck.

• Surprised by his words you roll so you are facing him now, seated on him like a saddle. His intense yellowed eyes meeting your gaze before continuing to kiss you this time down your throat.

• "You're making it sound like you actually want one?" You said in mused question, a few breathy moans leaving you as he proceeded to bite rather hard down on your soft skin and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

• Catching his gaze as he pulls back you could read him like a picture book. He did?

• "You actually want a child?" You hummed as your eyebrow raised, Feeling your husband's eyes wonder your form. His arm doing a quick sweep over his desk to push everything to the side and floor, uncaring as he had a goal in mind.

• "I am surprised we haven't already given an army due to us taking caution to the wind" He said calmly, setting you on the desk as his hands made easy work of rolling up the dark garment over your thighs.

• "Well if it's an army you want-" You purr and pull him closer to you by the cross around his neck feeling him close the distance between you two. "We better make up for lost time~"

• He smirked at this as he leaned down to kiss you with wine flavored lips as his hands found the front of your dress and in a fluid motion ripped the fabric down the center.

• Lost time indeed

Tag list-

@who-the-hockeysticks @vexladin

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x y/n #dracule mihawk x reader

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angelltheninth · 10 months

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Lucifer x fem reader headcanons (NSFW if u want!) please and thank u 🫶

p.s i really love ur works and ur writing style

Thank you! I try to do things differently sometimes just to keep things fresh but my writing style is mostly the same, its just the formatting that I experiment with.

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, possessiveness, cum marking, corruption, confidence, kink discovery, affirmation, begging, grinding

A/N: Why do I love every character named Lucifer? Just can't go wrong with them.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who, like his sin indicates, takes pride in knowing he's the only man who makes you admit your deepest, darkest, most sinful desires. It's a real shame you were so quiet the first few times he asked you to voice them but that first admission that you wanted him, that you wanted to be marked by his cum all over, was the first steep in corrupting you.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who loves it when you wear his colors. He doesn't need to show his possessiveness because you're so willing to let everyone know you're his. That doesn't mean he won't leave bite marks on your wrists though. Knowing your sleeves will ride up and people will see them gets him hard even as he's biting.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who likes to praise you to no end while you're bouncing on his cock. Every word makes you clench doesn't it? And what if he called you a whore instead? Of course your pussy likes that too. Do you know why? Because you're his whore and his alone. You know that no one else can call you that and should they do so they will face wrath like no other.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who didn't expect to be woken up by you grinding on his morning wood, in fact he was sure this was a dream he was having. So instead of letting it end there he flipped you on your back and gave you a huge load in your pussy for good morning. He was only a tiny bit embaressed about it but that feeling quickly faded when he saw the amount of white, thick cum coming from inside your pussy.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who exchanges a kink list with you as a joke. At first. Oh who knew such an innocent looking girl had all these filthy fantasies in her head hm? Well he looks forward to making them come true, every single one. That's right, he will use this list to please you, one new kink every night, until you beg him to have a break.

Boyfriend!Lucifer who promises you that you're not making it anywhere near Heaven when he's done with you. But he will do his best to bring the feeling of Heaven to you. All you have to do is get on your knees and beg, er, to pray that is. Good girl. He knew you would, he always knew you wanted to be his good girl, you just needed someone to give you the confidence to express it.

#obey me x reader #obey me imagine #obey me headcanons #obey me smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer headcanons #lucifer smut #obey me x female reader #lucifer x female reader #smut drabble #x female reader

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slutforsilverfoxes · 5 months

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Breaking Free

[A/N: I’m driving home for my externship (and Thanksgiving!) so you know what that means- too much time on the road to daydream 🙃 Pls enjoy Gibbs being an infuriating slut]

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x female reader

__________

You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s arm, pointing to his left at a sign that’s sure to snag you the win of your road trip competition. It’s become an annual tradition to pass the time by finding the most outrageous billboards on your way to Thanksgiving with your parents and Jethro’s father in Pennsylvania.

“That’s gotta be the best one,” you say confidently. “It even has a handcuff reference for you!”

The large sign promises that if you’re Shackled by LUST? then Jesus can FREE you.

Jethro grunts by way of acknowledgment then poses, “You scream oh my god a lot when I’m inside you- d’ya think that counts?”

“Not, like, a lot a lot,” you protest ever so eloquently, incensed by the smirk blooming on his face and his clever avoidance of admitting defeat.

Clearly your darling boyfriend takes that as a challenge.

The hand resting on your denim clad thigh begins creeping higher and you cut your eyes over to Jethro to find his focus is still dutifully on the expanse of highway ahead. “Whatcha doin’ there, Jay?”

“Driving,” he answers easily, hand moving higher yet. The corner of his lips visible to you arches upward when he meets the cool metal of the button on your jeans, but his smile falters when he fumbles to get it open. “Little help here?”

Raising one eyebrow, you counter, “You wanna prove a point, you put in the work, mister.”

He huffs out a breath, then twists his wrist and finally succeeds in popping the button open with a triumphant laugh. Jethro doesn’t even bother to try with the zipper after that; he simply shoves his hand into your pants so the zipper gets forced down its track.

You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, and Jethro produces a quiet growl in the back of his throat when he finds you already wet for him. That sound alone has you moaning out a low, “Oh my god,” and your boyfriend outright laughs at you while his middle finger circles your clit. “That was only once- oh fuck, oh my god- okay, twice, you jerk,” you feebly defend yourself.

Jethro sinks two fingers knuckle deep into your pussy with an amused hum, and you slap your palm against the roof of the truck while crying out a third iteration of the deity-invoking phrase. “I can’t- oh fuck me- stand you sometimes,” you bite out, lifting your hips to help Jethro’s fingers slip in and out of you with ease.

“Good thing you’re sitting then,” he fires back, chancing a glance away from the road to smirk at you.

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to muffle your cries, but Jethro brushes his palm over your clit while curling his fingers and another breathy, “Oh my god,” slips out of your traitorous mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” your boyfriend praises you, no longer bothering to mask his delight. “Free yourself from those shackles.”

A laugh punches out of you that morphs into a wanton moan when he curls his fingers again, and your cries rise higher and higher in pitch until you’re clenching around Jethro’s fingers, calling out a litany of curses with a healthy dose of his name mixed in. You drop back into the seat, boneless, with a final, “Oh my god.”

Jethro slips his slick-coated fingers out of your still throbbing cunt and points out your window to another billboard flying by, then runs his sinful tongue along his fingers, groaning at your taste. “I’m always right,” he asserts with a content hum, “and I win.”

__________

LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24

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chrolloluvr · 2 months

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Hello! Can I ask for general relationship headcannons with Mammon from helluva? I know he's toxic but I just love this bastard and his australian accent lol.

General Mammon SFW Relationship Hcs pt.1

Note: YESS TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! I love this dude idc what anybody thinks, also i might do a pt2 if this gets enough traction!! This is also a Female!reader, but if you squint it can be Genderneutral!reader

Warnings: Some cussing, use of pet names, some creepy behavior 💀

Starting off, Mammon would probably love to show you off. At his clown pageants, royal meetings, and basically anywhere important. If he's going somewhere, you will most likely be there, with his hand on one of your hips, or carrying you on his shoulder. However he won't let anybody get to know you, or even get their grubby hands near your precious body. Most of his fans speculate that if they see you somewhere, Mammon is always somewhere near you, or he at least has his servants follow you. I also imagine he also brings you to interviews.

He just loves to talk his head off about you. When it comes to his little lady, he just can't keep his mouth shut. I swear this man will be talking to Beelzebub or one of his business partners, and be like “Yeah that's nice and all dickhead, but Y/N is better at that by a long shot.” HE WILL BRING YOU UP AT THE MOST RANDOM TIMES! He will also twist his words in a way that involves you.

Loves and lives to buy you things. He feels obligated to get you luxurious items, even if you don't want them or feel bad. He knows he's one of, if not the most wealthy man in hell, so just let him spoil you, because he won't take no for an answer. If you don't like something he buys you, he won't be mad at you, but the people who made it. You're his pride and joy, so anything he buys you is very luxurious and one of a kind. When you go out to events with him, the press and 666 news will go crazy over the latest new necklace he bought you. If you just look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he will move heaven and hell for you.

He knows your weakness is his boisterous voice. He notices every detail about you, including the way your knees lock and your demeanor softens when he does that deep, Australian accent. He likes to grab your cheeks, and say in a low husky voice how you're so cute babe, my perfect little woman. Or when he calls you or leaves voicemails, he will talk innocently about something, but you never fail to take his voice and imagine it in, well, other ways.

I feel like Mammon would give you nicknames all the time. He rarely calls you buy your real name, unless hes upset, but he is never truly upset with you. He will call you babe most of the time, misses, my little lady, sweetheart, princess, my queen, woman, babycakes, and my little money maker (sometimes). He will call you these things, but also when he wants something from you like a warm hug, or to rub his shoulders, or to bring him his morning breakfast. He doesnt call you by your real name often, because he thinks its too serious, and in his eyes, you arent serious,you are just his little innocent woman, oblivious to the dangerous underworld.

There is an obvious power imbalance between the two of you. There's Mammon, a powerful deadly sin, the king of greed, and loved by billions of demons. And then there's you, a lowly demon/sinner who in his eyes, can barely do anything by yourself, hell, you need him to open a nutella jar for christ sake. He thinks of himself as your big strong protector, and also your king who you should bow down to, who you should be thankful for, because millions and millions of girls would die to be in your position.

When you two date, he want complete control over your life. Your social media, friends, people you talk to, family, etc. He most likely implanted a tracker somewhere on your body while you were sleeping. He controls all your socials, and most likely put “Account ran by the handsome king of greed” im your Sinstagram bio 😭. He also deleted any hate comments. One time somebody put “Miss girl is getting that little dick every night” And he got so butthurt, so he blocked them and personally killed them. He also wants you to stay innocent.

He loves to touch you. whether it be groping you, or slowly dragging his gloved fingers over your skin. He does not care about your size too, whether you are chubby or skinny, he loves you for you and that only applies to you. It does not matter how big or small your boobs are, he will guaranteed grab them atleast twice every day randomly. His favorite part of your body is most likely your belly and your boobs. But he loves everything about you, dont get me wrong.

He will never, and I mean never, let you down. He wants to see your pretty smile. If your going on a flight? First class. A show? Front row. You two are staying at a hotel? Presidential suite. He has you covered. Hes the sin of greed for crying out loud. He uses his status to get you the best of the best. If he sees you upset, he is upset at the people around him, and throws a big temper tantrum. In his eyes, he always needs to be the person to make you happy. If he ever sees you laughing at another mans corny jokes, he makes a mental note to personally handle them, and show them that he is your man, not some low class, vile excuse of a man.

#mammon #mammon hb #helluva boss #mammon hb x reader #mammon x reader #mammon x reader hb #hb mammon #hb mammon x reader #hazbin hotel #mammon helluva #mammon helluva boss #mammon hcs #mammon headcannons #mammon sfw #helluva boss x reader #alastor x reader

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httpshujii · 9 months

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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 彡 In which . . . Hanma Shuji falls in love.

Listen to this while reading

〔CW〕 — Usage of pet names, mentions of smoking, cursing, first kisses, suggestive themes. long fic (4k words), reader gets called 'Paradise'

〔AN〕 — This is basically me projecting, except I'm not academically smart :D

Hanma Shuji doesn’t believe in love. And he surely doesn’t expect to be loved. And he’s fine with that.

Hanma Shuji went in the wrong at a young age. Falling under the influence of manipulative bliss. Tip of cigarette between sharp teeth, flicker of lighter, and inhaling smoke through mouth, exhaling through nose. Living on the life line of the strong taste of tobacco, the smell of blood, and the sweet intoxication of walking through the streets of Tokyo.

Hanma Shuji walked nights till the crack of dawn. Causing trouble here and there, minding his own business there and here.

Hanma Shuji being a usual delinquent in the lit up streets of Tokyo.

Typical Monday, Shuji sat at the back of the empty classroom. School shirt unbuttoned over a white tank top. Unlit cigarette hanging through his teeth as the early sun caressed his face.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He doesn't usually go to school. Thinks it's too wasteful, he'd much rather pick on younger students in the streets, but no one's available at 6 in the morning.

Shuji didn't sleep last night. Or any night.

"Bored.." He murmured to himself. And just as he was about to leave the class and head back home, a pretty little thing caught his attention.

Bag in your hand and a sweater draped over your other arm.

Your eyes land on him and his cigarette.

"Oh..sorry, didn't think anyone would be here." Shy giggles and hesitant steps take you to your seat that's two rows ahead of his.

You waste no time in placing your bag on your chair and you walk out with your sweater.

The boy's gaze never left your figure. Cat-like eyes stuck on you the whole time. Observing, studying, memorizing. And he's glad you don't notice.

He knows who you are. Everyone knows who you are.

And everyone loved you...Shuji hated that.

How can anyone say they love a girl who was known for her intelligence and her charisma when most of the time nobody knows you as a person?

And that was your thought as you walked around the school. Your beige sweater now on, earphones in ears, and you allow the music to take over you...

Ecstasy carrying layers of notes of different pitches, blissfully pleasing your hearing as the sun rose and started its day.

An hour later and you're back in class, writing down the notes you need to write. This endless cycle continues for the rest of the day, even through lunch you spend your time tutoring other students because you're asked to do so by the teachers.

You're the star student and every teacher's helpful tutor. You can't say you didn't like it because you find enjoyment while helping others.

But it was a bore sometimes...

And so, the day goes by…

Write notes, read, highlight, repeat.

The final period of the day arrives and it somehow goes faster than usual. Just as the bell finally rings…

“Hanma, y/n, could you two come here for a moment?” Your teacher asks as her fingers skim through papers.

Walking towards the desk, you feel a looming presence stand next to you. Your eyes dare dart upwards to see who this Hanma is.

You hear the name everyday when the teacher checks the attendance. Usually there’s no response, and you never paid any mind to his presence.

Your eyes scan over his features quickly. Hair styled up, dangling earring, pointy nose, and hypnotizing golden eyes.

“Y/n I’d like for you to sit with Hanma for the upcoming lesson, and I’d appreciate it if you went over the previous lessons with him as well.”

Groaning internally, you nod politely.

While awkwardly exchanging numbers with Hanma, you couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that decorated his hands. Sin and Punishment. His veins bulge as he typed his digits into your phone. Heat pools at your stomach and you’re forced to look away.

“So, tomorrow at the library after school, sound good?”

“Yeah whatever..” His voice exhales smoky rings of husks. Rumbling down to your heart, making it sprint in place.

Gulping down the sudden lump, grabbing your phone from his hand.

“I-I’ll text you the schedule.”

“Sure.”

“See you.” Waving back at him, you look to see if he’d do the same.

He flicks two fingers at you as a wave and gives you a tired excuse of a smile.

The next day comes faster than expected. Your loafers clap against the tiled floor of the halls. Making your way to the library, you’re surprised to find Hanma already there sitting on one of the many tables.

But…

He’s asleep.

The worst possible scenario.

Is having to wake him up when he looks so peaceful.

What to do? What to do?

Okay.

The options that you have include the following:

A. Wake him up.

B. Leave without an explanation.

C. Leave and text him an apology saying that something came up.

D. None of the above.

You choose D. I can’t just leave him…

But this isn’t like you. The boy barely has any interest in you and you’re aware of that. So why?

Why do you want to wait for him to wake up?

Is it because…

You want to listen to his steady breaths?

Or watch the rise and fall of his chest…

Maybe it’s to stare at him as his eyes flutter.

No, that’s just creepy.

You know what…

Your steps walk towards the table and you start working. Trying so hard to carefully flip the pages of your notebook. Taking your time writing down notes. Stealing glances at him every now and then.

Just enjoying his sleeping presence.

An hour passes, you don’t realize it.

But when you’re about to steal another glance at him, he’s already staring at you.

And oh…

How pretty he looks.

Hair disheveled, eyes hooded, and an unknown emotion swimming in his eyes. Heat pools in your stomach at the sight of him. A good moment passes until he decides to speak…

“Staring is rude y’know.”

“Well you’re staring too.”

“You’re staring as if I look like some monster or somethin’.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re being loud.” “Because you’re making me irritated.” Huffing, you cross your arms.

“Cute…” He hums as he nuzzles into the crook of his elbow, his eyes close momentarily before opening again.

Cute.

Such a complicated word. Hard to know what he’s referring to at this moment.

“Can we start?” You ask, lifting a page in your notebook, indicating you’re fed up and he just gives you a nod.

An hour passes. Shuji hasn’t taken out any notebook or book or pen. But you didn’t question it, at least he’s listening.

“Do you get it?”

“Mhm..”

. . .

“Do you?”

“No.”

A sigh and a pinch to the bridge of your nose.

“Like okay, I get everything yeah? But this part is kinda confusing.” He points to a graph in your book and starts listing what he finds hard.

But you’re barely paying attention.

Well, you are. But on him.

The way he’s leaning over the table, one of his elbows propping his head, as his fist sinks into his cheek. The way his finger taps against your book, your wandering eyes trailing over to his hand. Punishment. Your mind thinks of what his tattoo could possibly mean.

“So for example if this question comes in an exam, how do i answer it?” He asks peering up at you now.

You stare at each other for a few seconds.

“Pretty..” He whispers, he lifts his hand to brush it over the plush of your cheek. But pulling away a moment later, as though you’re too delicate to be touched by his sinful hands.

You didn’t sleep early that night. The phantom of his touch still lingers on you. He left right after you gave him the answer to his question. And you received a text from him once you got home.

“I think I know why everyone calls you Paradise.”

It’s an alias used by students when addressing you.

“Hey Paradise! Can you explain this to us?”

“Paradise, why don’t you come sing karaoke with us tonight?”

Paradise this, paradise that.

You don’t even know why they call you that.

Paradise is…it’s the sprinkle of golden specks across the night sky, it’s the warmth of fire, the coolness of snowflakes. Paradise is long strokes of a paintbrush going down a canvas, the soft washes of waves over the sand, the peaceful layer between the wake and the sleep. Paradise is the intoxicating scent of mysterious glances and peach flavored kisses.

Paradise is anything but you. You have the looks, the brains, everything. But you aren’t the person that you want to be. Being the perfect image for people that don’t bother enough to get to know you is draining. You don’t have friends that last long, you can’t talk to anyone about your day because no one asks, sure you have your parents, but you thrive to hold onto something that would belong to you and you only.

“Why?” You texted him that an hour ago. And as the night continued, sleep taking over, and the rings of the alarm blaring your ears off, you woke up to nothing. Not a text back, not even seen.

“How’s the progress with Shuji going?”

“Good, he’s good at memorizing and catches on quickly.”

“That’s good. You may leave now.”

A long sigh escapes you the moment you close the door of the classroom. Today is colder than usual, and today is worse than usual.

“Someone seems pissed.” The familiar smoky rings of husks. The same playful lilt. And the intimidating sight of Hanma Shuji fills your stomach with butterflies.

It’s been a month since you met him and he texted you every day. Asking if you’re gonna continue studying after school in the library. But he never once answered your question. However, he started sitting with you daily. He changed his seat to sit right next to you, he would sit with you during lunch time and he’d even go as far to buy you a drink from the vending machines.

You don’t know what it is that lures you to his presence. Overall, in your eyes, he’s calm and collected. But it’s only been a month since you’ve met him. There’s still a lot you need and want to learn.

“‘M not pissed.” You grumble clearly pissed as you start walking towards the library.

“Poor little girl’s all mad.”

“I said I’m not mad.”

“Ehe ♡”

“What?”

“We had the same conversation a month ago.”

“Why am I surprised you remember?”

“Why are you surprised that I remember?”

At that, heat tickles your stomach and you just continue walking.

“You’re interesting.” Is what he started with as you took a seat at the table.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

A small tilt of his head and a ghost of a smirk hangs on his lips, “What question?”

“Why.”

Silence hangs in the air. He knows what you’re talking about. He stares at you in a strange intensity, not serious, or playful. You can’t tell what it is you’re feeling. A sharp gulp down your throat and he’s talking again, “You ever been on a motorcycle before?”

“No. Why?”

“Do you wanna go?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“You ask why too much.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Why. Such a stupid word that you tend to repeat. Being sheltered from having friends, you’re not used to discussions outside of the study topic. He makes you feel as if you’re an alien on this planet. He makes you feel curious and…dangerous. You feel dangerous around him.

“Ah fuck it. Lets go.”

“Where?”

“Just come with me will ya?”

Another sharp gulp and your feet are suddenly walking alongside him. You walk outside the school and down the sidewalk, all the way till you reach a small garage. You feel sick. A good sick. The type of sick you feel when you go down a really high rollercoaster.

He walks in and you follow, he grabs your school bag and places it onto a brown leather couch that's tucked into the corner of the place. An old coffee table in front of it and a mini fridge sitting nearby as well. But the main attraction, a motorcycle sits on a platform. A vintage Kawasaki Ninja, styled with a leopard print, and polished so that the finish can twinkle under the light.

You don’t notice yourself when you allow a subconscious ‘woah’ to escape your lips.

“Lovely one, isn’t she?”

You watch as Sin runs along the seat of the vehicle. His eyes stay on you though…

With a nod, he beckons you over. This time your steps are more confident. The minute you stand next to him, his hands move to your hips, lifting you up as if you’re nothing.

“W-what’re you…?”

“Wanna ride with me?”

It’s stupid to ask this question after seating you down. But the way he’s propping himself on the bike, the way his eyes search yours for any hesitation, the way he’s so effortlessly attractive by just tilting his head in amusement.

You tug on the hem of your skirt. Do I want this?

“C’mon pretty you know you want to~”

Your stomach did somersaults, butterflies abused your insides, and the blush on your cheeks was not taken for granted by him. With a soft pinch to your cheeks, “Cute.”

He moves away from the bike and walks towards a locker. He pulls out a leather jacket and hands it to you. It’s heavy, warm, and smells of cigarettes and dark cologne. It smells of him and it intoxicates you so beautifully.

He opens the garage door before finally sitting in front of you. The engine growls to life. A leopard hiding behind a bush, revving itself to pounce at a common prey. His calloused hands find refuge on yours, pulling them to hug his waist. You feel him tense up slightly, he stays there, his hands on top of yours, fingers caressing yours.

You feel a strange warmth, like the sun has nuzzled itself in your throat and it's sliding down to rest in your stomach.

This lasts for a couple of seconds before he revs the bike a couple of times, he goes down the ramp of the platform and the wind is quick to play with your hair. The highway he drove on was surprisingly empty despite it being four in the afternoon.

He drove with surprising ease, you’re scared but you trust him. It’s odd, trusting someone that you don’t know much about. Driving before stopping at a red light. He pats your hand before turning his head to the side slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah..”

“You sound hesitant baby, what’s wrong?”

“Kinda scared.”

“Don’t be, just lean with me on the turns alright?”

“Okay.”

“Atta girl ♡”

He drove you to the beach. And as he carried you off the bike, your eyes never left the crashing waves. Wonder filling your eyes as if you’re a little girl again.

“Never been to the beach before?”

“No.”

“Missing out big time.”

He holds your hand before walking towards the wooden dock. You both take a seat on the edge. You peek down at the blue waters, the sun setting creates divine hues of gold to mix with the palette of waves. So beautiful.

“I think I know why they call you Paradise.”

“Why?”

“Because you are paradise.”

“I don’t get it.”

A chuckle from him and he’s laying back on the wood. He sighs dreamily and closes his eyes.

“I don’t get it Hanma.” You repeat and this time he opens his eyes to look at you. He’s so enamored, so amazed by your presence.

“Ah shit.” Punishment clutches his chest. Sin covers his face.

“I don’t get it…” You mumble once again. Shuffling in place to face him now.

“I don’t get it either,” His words are muffled, he slides his hand down his face, “Fuck!” He yells to no one in particular, but you flinch at the volume.

“What did I do?!” You immediately take yourself as the blame but there’s a smile on your face, he smiles at you and he shakes his head ever so slightly.

Sin moves to brush the stray strands of your hair away from your face, it slides down your face to cup your cheek. He props himself up with his other elbow and looks at you appreciatively.

As if admiring a painting, his eyes trace over every feature of your face. Every mole, every freckle, every line and crease. He wants to kiss them. He wants to kiss your cheeks till they’re burning, he wants to kiss your tears away, he wants to kiss you so badly it hurts. You’re right here, in front of him and in his presence…

So why is it so hard to reach out to you and just kiss the life out of you?

Because he’s afraid. Hanma Shuji is fearless, he lives as a careless fugitive that finds pleasure in knocking teeth down people’s throats, he spends his days and nights laughing with the yells of his victims. Hanma Shuji doesn’t believe in love. And he surely doesn’t expect to be loved. And he’s not fine with that.

It’s been a month for God’s sake and he’s already fallen for you. How?

Is it the way you explain lessons? Is it the way you walk? Is it the way your eyes light up when he gets something right? Is it your face? Your body? Your smile? Your laugh? Maybe it’s the little tilt of your head when you feel confused? Or is it the hesitancy every time you’re with him? Maybe it’s everything and more.

Hanma Shuji fell under the painfully beautiful spell of love in a month. And he doesn’t expect to be loved by you.

You’re too pure, too angelic, too beautiful. Your whole existence doesn’t deserve to be meddled with by a boy that could break your heart.

Everything about him breaks your heart…because you want to have him.

“Hanma-”

“Don’t say my name like that.” Lie. Say my name, say my fucking name like it’s a fucking prayer. He wishes to tell you.

“...Shuji.”

“Fuck.” With a single blink, he’s standing on his knees in front of you. His hands cup your cheeks and he looks down at you.

He’s so lovesick it’s pathetic. How? How can he fall in love this quick? Is this normal? Probably not. Does he care? Yes…and no. His eyes narrow and they trace your lips, so kissable.

His thumb presses on your bottom lip. He’s hesitant now. The way you’re looking up at him so prettily. So innocently. Asking him to do whatever he wants, as if you’re completely clueless on what you want. He knows he shouldn’t give in. He really, really shouldn’t. You’re breaking his heart by trusting him with your purity. He hasn’t even kissed you yet and he already feels like he committed a crime.

A long grumble leaves his lips and his forehead is resting on your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, as if he ran a whole marathon- well, his heart is.

This hurts hurts hurts. He feels like a child at a museum, wanting to touch an ancient vase but if he does he’d get a good slap on his hand for touching something so valuable.

He’s touching someone so valuable. It feels like a crime. Such a big crime.

Just do it Shuji damn it. It’s just a girl.

But it’s not just a girl, his subconscious speaks.

It is.

Is not.

Sigh, is not.

It’s you.

With another sigh, he lifts his head up again.

“Please let me kiss you.”

He wouldn’t be caught dead saying those words in front of anyone but you. He’s so soft it’s revolting. He sounds so desperate, as if he’s starved and thirsty. Thirsty to feel your lips against his. Hungry to taste you and hold you close and never let you go.

He notices the way your eyes widen, and he admires the way as the sun’s final rays swim in your eyes. So pretty so pretty so pretty.

“You’re a crime Paradise..” He mumbles into your ear. Laying a teasing kiss under your ear lobe, “I’ll be so good to you, I promise.” A kiss to your jaw, “Please…” Lips hover over lips, desperately inhaling and exhaling your essence as if you’re water.

He’s a man in the desert, you’re the refreshing oasis in the distance. He wants to drink you up. Feel you down his throat and in his chest.

With little effort, you manage to push yourself high enough so your lips come crashing against his. Arms wrapping around his neck.

What the hell are you doing? You’ve never kissed anyone, so why are you just as desperate to kiss him? For the hell of it? To experience it? No…

You like Shuji. You like his effortlessness, you enjoy talking with him, even if it’s just a stupid lesson, you enjoy his calmness, you enjoy looking at him, you enjoy standing with him behind the school during lunch breaks to make sure he wouldn’t get caught smoking, you love the small moments when he’d struggle to solve a simple equation, you adore his teasing comments and nicknames, you love every moment with him because you feel relaxed, you feel like yourself around him.

He fills that hole in your chest.

The feeling of having someone that belongs to you is fulfilling and rewarding. You’re overflowing with aching waterfalls of affection and need.

His lips mold against yours, he senses your hesitancy and wastes no time in taking initiative. Slowly moving against your lips to provide you with reality, he genuinely wants this. Hanma Shuji has never taken anything seriously, but the moment he met you, everything changed.

As cheesy as it sounds to him, he’s convinced you’re the only person for him. He hums as he deepens the kiss, detaching slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for any negative emotion.

Discomfort, doubtfulness, hate, anything. And you’re over here, looking at him, wanting more but you’re too shy to ask.

He’s basking at the sight of you, lips puckered and wet, cheeks burning, brows furrowed with frustration at the loss of contact.

“You’re just a little girl aren’t you?” His whisper tickles your lips, “‘m not little…”

“Mmm..that so? You’re pouting as if I took your favorite candy away.”

“I want my candy back.”

“Hehe ♡”

That same night, when Shuji dropped you home, he texted you at midnight.

“Meet me outside.”

“Now?”

“Pls?”

You don’t know why you agreed, there’s no school tomorrow so it’s fine. But sneaking out just to meet him? Your parents would be disappointed.

“Hanma?”

“That’s Shuji for you~ Missed you, pretty.”

You shiver when he wraps his arms around your waist, he lays a quick trail of kisses down your neck.

“You saw me a few hours ago!”

“Still missed you though.” He spins you around to face him. And oh…

Hair down, eyes wider than usual, smile stretched from ear to ear.

He’s like a puppy.

“Why are you he-MPH!”

“Mmm ♡”

He’s so cheesy, but you kiss back none the less. This time, the kiss holds more passionate and lustful intent. He isn’t holding back.

Your back arches as he leans against you, as if trying to get as close to you as possible. Sin cups your neck, punishment holds your waist tightly.

He kisses you deeply, longingly, hungrily. You’re conflicted on what he’s trying to say.

Hanma Shuji doesn’t talk much, and doesn’t enjoy conveying things through words. He believes that actions speak louder.

Can’t get enough of you, he says, making me crazy over you, a pretty angel.

Small whimpers escape your throat and he swallows them gratefully. Relishing in the small vibrations shared between the both of you.

He parts after a good minute.

Inhaling and exhaling as if he took his first breath of pure oxygen.

“You’re so lovely.” His hands brush through your hair and he giggles at the sight of you.

“You’re so lovesick.”

“Only for you pretty ♡”

Tags (open !): @kitorin @beanxiv @kryscent @strawberrypockybox @bejeweled-night-33 @b0nten @natdu @okkalo @maevelevy

#[𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧]#✶≼[TOKYO REVENGERS]#ஜ˳༄꠶ SHUJI #ఌ︎. [SHUJI]#love this sm #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #hanma x femreader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma shuji x you #hanma x you #hanma tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader

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gildedkrone · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

Price is a man starved.

He moves with all the grace he’s known for, amidst your noises of petulance as he nudges his dick to push against your rim.

The act of sex is sacred to him; keeper of the pleasure you feel when you’re with him. He won’t lie, he’s had sugar babies before he met you. But none of them fail to incite the firestorm in him which brings out a version of himself from his younger and more voracious years.

Voracious for pleasure and love.

Price is a man seeking companionship in a world where glitter and glamour rule. The neighbourhood is fancy but devoid of the human touch; the people who live here bumble and walk like idiots through streets of crowds. Fools, he relegated them.

He moans when the head of his dick pushes past the rim and into tight heat.

Price knows it’s not meant to last as it with many things in the world. The more beautiful, the easier it’s to break—it’s the word of nature; its dominion is what all humans lived in.

Your hips are the altar of his faith, and he is nothing more than a needy man tonight. He want to feel, to shut down the part of his brain always in control and over assessing every situation and threat. Price just want to be a person tonight and with the body writhing underneath him, he sees the light at the end of the tunnel.

Sometimes, the light just seems so far but he knows it’s here tonight. He tastes sweetness on your lips, the wine you drank—a chardonnay at his request and with your pants as his hands pin them to the seatback, he dives in for another kiss.

A kiss between a sugar daddy and a sugar baby in a parked car on the hills of Alexandra Palace turning into something more than chaste kisses and touches in the car on the way to dinner.

Price is loaded and he knows enough to know where money flows might bring with it joy. Pleasure, even. He eyes the slack jaw and he knows it.

He knows pleasure when he sees it.

His money buys him everything he wants, and it buys your affection. It buys your time, your attention on him which he desperately wants—the man preens under your affection all the time. It buys your dignity, if the things he does to you are indicative of his intentions.

You’re a fool drowning in pleasure, and he is a fool drowning in the sin as nectar and in the car, he fucks you as if he life depends on it. The thrusts are deep, and they are full body sensations when he hits it home in strong cadences of a man starved for touch.

You don’t seem to mind what he does, he does it so damn well and without the usual baggage that comes with hook ups over the internet. Price splurges on you constantly. He wants to be the man to take care of you and the Patek Phillipe watch on your wrist is just the latest of his purchases.

He would buy the world for you if you were to just ask. Anything your heart desires and with his connections and money—nothing is too hard and everything is worth if only to keep your heart with him.

What is the price of your heart?

He doesn’t think he knows, but he damn well wants to try to find out. It starts small, with little trinkets such as flowers and chocolate. It graduates fast, to fancy dinners and eventually, to first class flights across the country at his beck and call and luxurious resorts in the alps of Courchevel for an impromptu ski trip in February.

The banker gets a stern talking to when the bank cancels his cards on the account of fraudulent purchases and he gives them a piece of his mind. Three months into the relationship, he gifts you a card. A black AMEX card with your name on it and tied to his accounts.

He hopes it’s reason to stay and he’s dismayed when there’s no spending on it. He confronts you—it ends in a fight and he explains gently you are meant to spend on his card.

Put all of your spending on his card. It’s what the sugar in sugar daddy meant.

He revels in the noises of the coupling and finds your mouth in a sloppy kiss in the dark of the car. It’s all he can focus on when he’s waited weeks to see you. Lines of pleasure tangle into something fierce and burning in his loins when you squeeze down on his cock snugly.

He’s happy to see there’s spending on the card. Groceries from Aldi and an occasional tube ticket here and there. He thinks back to the time when he returned home to food you prepared for dinner. Chicken curry with fragrant rice and the words died on his tongue. The restaurant reservation is cancelled immediately without you being aware and he fucks you differently that night.

He fucks you differently ever since then. The urgency is replaced by a sense of longing and tenderness that muddles your head and his. You fuck with his instincts, and he fucks your body the way he wants to. His hands leave imprints into your hips and sweat runs off his body onto yours.

The air in the car is heated and he knows he’s compromised. Purely transactional relationship? Price scorns at the thought of that. Not when he came to a clean apartment with his clothes all laundered and folded neatly on his bed. A warm meal waits for him and a bottle of Chardonnay opened on the dining table and your warm embrace.

Tomorrow can wait, and Price doesn’t care for it. He doesn’t long for it to come, if only to draw out what he’s feeling right now. Dinner is the prelude to this and he hand roams your body to anchor it to him. To keep it from leaving him in this fleeting pleasure.

Fuck the day waiting, all he wants to do is leave scars on your heart. As proof he has been here before. Ruin you, desecrate you, and make you cry in his name. He’s possessive, and Price balks at the idea of sharing you with another person.

He knows his money won’t be enough eventually to be a reason to stay, and he so desperately wants to know—what’s the price of your heart?

What would make you give it to him? A sugar daddy you met on an online dating site working in the military with long periods of absences.

He’s worried you will ask for his companionship. More affection and more attention. His previous sugar babies wanted those, and when he failed to give, they left with the wind.

He doesn’t want this to happen with you.

You feel so right, and it’s something he likes with all of his heart.

For now, Price will give you the world and all its constituents, if you wanted material things. And deep down, he knows if you want his heart, he will consider an end to his military career. You make him want things he’s resisted all of his life.

And it scares him to know you have such a profound effect on his life, especially not when you are taking him so well and crying his name over and over again when his balls slam against your skin. Eventually, you cum first with a shout of his name as his teeth breaks the skin on your shoulders and he follows while fucking you through his orgasm until cum spills out from your rear.

Make you cry and fuck up your life. Maybe you just are something he likes and need to have. He wipes you down with a spare towel in the car and when you look at him like that, he wants to tell you to stop but he doesn’t.

He settles for a chaste kiss before starting the car up to take you home. Tomorrow isn’t here for a few hours, so he settles for having you for today. And for as long as he can without having to face the questions he has no answers to. If only he knew, all he has to do is stay.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

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dazaichuuya69 · 1 year

Text

Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya kinks

Character/s - Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya

Warnings - NSFW, smut, swearing, blood kink, bondage

Notes - This was very fun to write - especially Chuuya's part - and if you have any requests PLEASE send them I really want to write more. Also I have no idea how to pronounce the Russian names in Fyodor's part I just looked on Google translate

Dazai

Probably a switch but has a preference to top because he likes the control it gives him

DEFINITELY calls you Belladonna - sometimes he calls you Bella tho - during sex

"Come on Bella, just a bit more for me"

He prefers when you call him Osamu or Sir depending on how he feels

Most of the time he's pretty rough and likes to tie you up - he actually learnt a lot about tying people up from the mafia so he's really good at it

However if YOU'RE topping him he is a very bratty sub

He's also so vocal like he will not stop moaning. Not that you mind~ his moans are pretty

LOVES IT WHEN YOU RIDE HIM especially when he's dom

He thinks you look so hot bouncing on his cock

When he comes he just says how much he loves you because he genuinely doesn't think people can love him for who he is

"Sir, please, I can't do this anymore" You moan as you bounced on his cock. Your hands are pressed against his chest, as you desperately moaned for him to let you come.

"Just a little longer, Bella, I know you can do it" Dazai says as he pushes your hips against his, moaning at the way you felt around his cock.

Fyodor

Two words that I don't think anyone will be surprised by - corruption kink

Even tho he's just like "I must cleanse the world of sin" he wants to fill your head with sexual desires

Aka he wants to make you really horny and kinky because he's into that

DEFINITELY A TOP. You would probably have to beg him to bottom for you and it still probably wouldn't work

Probably has a blood kink and makes shallow cuts on your body

Calls you дорогая (dear), мышонок (little mouse), шлюха (whore)

He's pretty weak so he usually ties you to the bed instead of just holding you down

I don't think he'd eat you out THAT much because he thinks its dirty

Even though he's absolutely fine with sticking his cum-covered fingers in your mouth

He. Loves. Leaving. Hickeys.

His aftercare is very sweet though like he will get you a cup of tea and lie about how he's sorry that he left so many marks

"A-ah Fedya" The soft moan escapes your lips as Fyodor bits down into your skin - not slowing down his pace for one second. You feel him continue his sharp thrusts as your hands thrash against the chains restricting them.

"What's wrong дорогая? Do you want me to stop and leave you all tied up like this for the rest of the night?" Fyodor asks against your neck.

Chuuya

Also a top, but much nicer than Fyodor

Like he will tie you up, but he'll tell you how good you are as he does it

This man LOVES lingerie and he thinks it looks so good on you especially because he knows about fashion so he knows what colours, patterns, materials look good on you

He especially likes to rip it of your body. Dw he'll apologize later and buy you another one

He is quite rough with his thrusts but he'll constantly be ask if you're ok

He definitely more into praise than degradation but if hes having a bad day he might be a bit ruder

Loves fucking you doggy style because he is definitely an ass man

Will probably play with your ass while fucking you because he loves it

His names for you aren't AS original as Fyodor's or Dazai's but they're still romantic

Usually it's doll, baby girl, darling and he likes it when you call him sir or master

Would probably let you top him if you asked and he would definitely come even if you told him not to

You moaned as Chuuya started to thrust in you, your hands grabbed the bedsheets in front of you, while your ass was in the air, occasionally moving backwards to meet Chuuya's thrusts.

"You're doing so good doll" Said Chuuya, who was busy gripping your waist "So fucking good for me"

#smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara

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alice-angel12x · 16 days

Text

Born of unkown Stardust

Ch. 5

summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.

The plot of chap: Yuu goes to earth hoping to fix Lucifer's mistake. So he could be granted back into Heaven! At least Yuu hopes.

(bittersweet story) (platonic) Lucifer x (???) Reader x Sera

(Warning: Blood, violence, and Gore)

<-Part 4/ Part 6 ->

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sera from time to time would see Yuu interacting with Adam. Sera was kind enough, the seraphim could recognize the slight sorrow in Adam's eyes when he watched Little Yuu.

One day, Sera had to attend a meeting with the high elders, so she left Yuu in Adam's care for a short while. Little simply sat in Adam's lap as they played with his feathers. As Adam stared down at Yuu, flashes and glimpses of his children's images would appear over Yuu. Sometimes it would be Cain, but it was mostly Abel.

-------------------------------------------

"Dad!" Abel called out.

Adam looked up from his work on the fields to see his two sons running towards him.

"What's got you two so worked up?" Adam asked as he took a break from plowing the fields.

"Abel won't stop asking about weird stuff. Like "Where did we come from? Are there beings in the sky?" Cain scoffed.

"Cause they're are, and that's why we are here? They put us here? Why?" Abel asked.

"They are real, as for why they made us... I don't know," Adam answered honestly.

"See, it's made up," Cain said.

"Look, they said as long as we reframe from sinning, and get to heaven. You can ask them all of your questions Abel," Adam sighed as he knelt down to the boy's level.

__________________________________

"Are you okay Mr.Adam?" Yuu asked.

"I miss my kids... And my wife," Adam said with a tired sigh.

"Oh... I miss my Da too. I wish he didn't break his promise to me. Then none of this would have happened," Yuu said, trying to sympathize with Adam. "What happened to them?"

"A monster took them away," Adam said sadly.

"A monster?" Yuu asked.

"Yeah, the monster that Lucifer and Lilith allowed to into Earth. It made one of my sons to do something horrible. And Snatched my other before he could arrive here," Adam said, as shadows covered his eyes.

Yuu frowns sadly at the weight of Lucifer's actions. This was no gift at all. Yuu not knowing what else to do, the little tot hugs him. The first man sighs with a slight smile, as he ruffles the child's starie hair.

"Thanks, kid," He says quietly.

"Yuu!" Sera called out. "It's time to go home,"

"Looks like your mother is here. Be good okay," Adam said as he gently got Yuu on their feet.

"Bye, Mr.Adam," Yuu said as they run over to Sera. Adam weakly waves back as Yuu joins Sera.

"Mother... What's the monster that took Mr.Adam's kids away?" Yuu asked.

Sera paused for a moment, and slightly turned back to sent a slight miffed expression Adam's way.

"Remeber the curse, that Lucifer let into earth?" Sera asked, and Yuu nodded. "Well the monster Adam mentioned and the curse are almost one an the same."

"How does that work?" Yuu asked curiously.

"Well... The Monster Adam mentioned is where the curse comes from. The Monster's name is Roo. And she wants to spread sin and chaos everywhere, to all realms and creatures," Sera explained lightly.

"So Roo is where the curse comes from, and this curse tempts people to want to do bad things?" Yuu asked, slowly putting the pieces together. "So how did Da's ''gift'' cause her access to earth?"

"Lucifer claimed that his gift was free will. However, upon inspecting his creation, what it was really. Was Knowledge of Good and Evil. The knowledge that humans were not ready for," Sera explained.

Yuu nods slowly as they and Sera stand before a large orb, that shows the image of earth.

"It's so pretty," Yuu awed.

"It is, and a lot more beautiful in person," Sera smiles gently. "Would you like to see it?"

"Can I?!" Yuu gasped.

"It took a lot of convincing, but I managed to convince the elders to let you see the earth," Sera said, when Yuu suddenly tackled and hugged her dress.

"Thank You Thank You!" Yuu shouted excitedly.

"And Since it is also your birthday," Sera smiled confidently as she scooped up the little tot. "With some negotiating on top of the visit. The Elders agreed to let you create 5 things for the earth."

"OH! You're The Best Mom Ever!" Yuu smiled as they hugged Sera tightly.

"Thank you, Yuu" Sera smiles as she hugs Yuu close.

Sera watched with pride as Yuu looked at the beauty of the earth in all it's splendor. Yuu quickly got to work, thinking and planning the limited 5 creations they were allowed to make.

Sera watched on in wonder as the first creation was brought to life.

"I present to you... The Amazing Fantastical Flying Duck!!" Yuu shouted as they presented their first creation.

"Quack," The Duck said as it suddenly flapped away from Yuu.

Sera smiled and clapped her hands in applause as she watched the first batch of ducks take to the sky.

"You were quick to create many creatures. You made lots of birds I noticed. Was The Duck your last one?" Sera asked.

"No I made one final thing, and it's not a bird," Yuu smiles proudly.

"Umm, Where is it?" Sera asked curiously.

"We have to wait till nightfall," Yuu smiles playfully.

"Well we can't stay too long into the night okay," Sera reminded, when something caught their attention.

There was a rustle in the bushes. Yuu and Sera watch with bated breath when suddenly. A human woman with a baby tumbled out of the bushes. She was covered in rope burns, scars, and wounds. In her arms was a baby.

She came to a halt as she stared in awe and fear at the otherworldly beings before her.

"P-Please, Please help him," The woman begged as she held a baby close to her chest.

Yuu looked on sadly as they stepped forward, but Sera remained cautious. As Yuu held out their hands, the women handed the bloodied body of a newborn baby.

Sera gasped in horror, as Yuu could only stare in paralyzed fear. The baby's heart was ripped out of its chest. There was no saving this child.

"Please! Please help him?!" The women cried.

"I-I can't it-" Yuu was cut off as warm blood splats all over their face.

A long wooden spear was forced through the back of the woman's head and out the mouth. Yuu wanted to scream at the sight, but they froze. Sera quickly covered Yuu's eyes as she removed the corps from Yuu's hands. The Seraphim quickly scooped up the star-touched tot and retreated through the portal. The last thing Yuu saw was a group of humans laughing maniacally as they ripped the corpses apart. And in the shadows of the trees, a smirking demonic face hovered over the humans. Blood poured from the monster's mouth a horrific eldritch tongue.

The demonic form looked up to catch the few glimpses of Yuu, as she creepily waved a goodbye.

------------------------------------

"Yuu, I'm so sorry you had to witness that. I was so certain the location I chose was far away from humans. I'm sorry I ruined your birthday," Sera apologized as she held Yuu close.

But the image of the events scared Yuu's mind as Sera approached the pearly gates. There standing at the gates was Adam, who was minding his own business till he noticed Sera rushing towards the gate.

Before he could ask what was the matter, he saw the blood that caked Yuu's horrified face.

"What happened?!" Adam questioned as he flew up to Sera's level to check on Yuu.

"No, we came across horrible humans," Sera sobbed as she held Yuu's tiny trembling form.

"Hey, you're safe now kid," Adam said softly as he whipped away the blood on Yuu's face.

"I saw it," Yuu said as the adrenaline slowly started to fade.

"Saw what?" Adam asked.

"The monster," Yuu sobbed.

Adam and Sera froze at those words. Yuu could feel Sera's hold on their small body tighten.

After some time, Sera tucked Yuu in for bed and quietly slipped out of the room. But Worry filled her mind and she alerted what Yuu had witnessed. This was brought great concern to the elder council.

"Not only did Lucifer allow such a thing to into what was supposed to be good. It is now snatching any and all souls before it can even reach heaven!" One elder shouted in frustration.

"And with Roo's presence so close, she is corrupting every human. The things that these humans are doing are sickening," Another sighed.

"What did I say. What Did I Say! I knew this "invention" of Lucifer's was a horrible Idea. This could have all been avoided if he just listened to reason," A different Elder groaned.

"What done is done, but the real question is what do we do know?" Sera asked. "The more human souls she gathers, the stronger she gets."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Tags:

@@littleladydemon , @corvid007, @ellaprime7, @just-here-reading, @kyo-kyo1

#luficer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin sera #hazbin hotel sera #Hazbin hotel Sera x reader #hazbin hotel angels #Born of Unkown Stardust

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bg-brainrot · 2 months

Text

A Bloody Sacrament (Astarion x GN!Durge)

Featuring: Astarion x Evil!Durge

Genre: Smut

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Series: Fits into A Star in the Dark, AO3 link here

Summary: After fulfilling the Tribunal’s task and becoming Bhaal's unholy assassin, you bathe yourself in a pool of blood. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your day doused in red, but lucky for you, you have a lover who is only too happy to clean you up.

Tags: Violence, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, seriously a lot of blood like too much blood please be warned, Smut, Voyeurism, Semi-Public Sex, Masturbation, Fingering, Oral Sex, Dom Astarion, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Pain, smidge of praise kink, smidge of overstimulation, aftercare sort of, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Evil Dark Urge, gender-neutral smut

A/N: If you follow me for my fun, fluffy stuff, I’m sorry, please feel free to look away c’: This is going dark and bloody (and uh, gross if you think about it too long). But sometimes I need to let my inner Durge out. Seriously mind the tags! Spoilers for all of Act 3. This is a Durge that has gone along with *everything* Astarion says, says the most evil things possible, is manipulating him just as they did him, and fully plans on taking over the world for their father. Naturally this is evil-evil Durge so like, tread carefully!

Word count: ~4k

The Murder Tribunal hums in satisfaction. You, the very slayer of Bhaal, prevail before them, standing in a crimson pool of your own making.

You have butchered the pathetic celestial, a hollyphant who dared play investigator. Now it is time to bathe in her blood, take your place as Bhaal’s Unholy Assassin, and prove yourself every bit your father’s child. Your head pounds, the bloodlust overwhelming as you inhale the scent of her ungodly demise, but you maintain enough focus to step forward.

Yes, your blood sings. Douse yourself in this pathetic creature's entrails, cleanse any remaining part of you that may still resist your calling.

Every stride brings you closer to release, to a greatness you know is yours to claim. When your foot finally dips into the pool of blood before you, you throw your head back in elation – yes, you’ve earned this.

Deeper into the basin you walk, down its slick steps, each one pulling you further down. It seems deeper than you thought possible, though perhaps it’s a matter of perspective. After all, as you surrender yourself, your body, to the cult of Bhaal, it’s clear the depths that you would go for the sake of your father’s unholy agenda are far, far deeper.

You reach the center of the pool, where you release yourself to your very nature. In the eye of the temple’s sacred bath, your body is consumed and into its crimson liquid, you sink– down, down, down…

Fantasies of a world built upon your whims invade your mind. Tears of blood run down soft, pathetic cheeks. A river of red courses through the city, fed by bodies you’ve slain. You see seas of blood that would put this pathetic pool to shame. All of it, every last drop, in the name of your lord, your god, your father: Bhaal.

It feels like years of these beautiful delusions, so when finally you snap out of them you sit up with a gasp. You’re not sure how long you were under, but judging from the unaffected looks of your companions, what felt like a lifetime was truly, merely a moment.

As you rise from your sanguine sacrament, blood drips from your hands, your arms, your legs. Every inch of you is stained red with the sins you’ve committed. It’s a delectable sensation, one that shoots up your spine, brings a heat to your core similar to when you’ve enacted a particularly brutal killing. You feel good.

You almost don’t notice Sarevok’s praise, the gift he bestows upon you– it’s exactly what you need to finally fell that wretch of a changeling you call a relative. You take it, utter some words you’re sure, but your mind is a million miles away, enveloped in images of blood and flesh.

When Sarevok and the rest of the Tribunal leave the room, you’re left alone with your companions: Minthara, Shadowheart, and Astarion. They seem to be speaking to you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

You shake your head– no, maybe there is actual blood in your ears.

“Are you alright?” you hear Shadowheart ask, a hint of distaste to her tone.

Minthara’s low chuckle follows and she says, “They are more than ‘alright.’ That was glorious. When we finally take control of this city, we shall all bathe in blood once more."

Astarion is unexpectedly quiet, watching you carefully with his ruby red eyes. Ever since he completed the Rite of Profane Ascension and took his rightful role as the vampire ascendent, he’d been anything but quiet. He’d laughed and murdered with glee. He’d even killed you, body and mind, only to bring you back more bloodthirsty than ever.

Ever since, you’d felt a connection to him unlike before. The tadpole in your brain ensures that you are not subservient to him, but you still feel tied to him by an unforeseen force. One that pulls you toward him, even now. It tells you that this look is meant for you, and you only.

“It’s as Minthara says,” you answer. “I am more than fine. I do, however, need to speak with Astarion. Alone.”

The two women exchange a glance. They’d grown used to your new relationship with Astarion, just as they’d gotten used to your previous relationship with him. Both had made a few comments, thinly veiled criticism of your choices in Shadowheart’s case, unadulterated mirth in Minthara’s case. Regardless, they know better than to get between the two of you.

“We’ll be at the entrance then,” Shadowheart says, turning away.

“And do hurry. Revenge awaits us both,” Minthara adds, following her out.

Astarion simply continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing to slivers as his lids drop in a predatory gaze. Once he’s given you a full once over, he speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble, “My beautiful, precious consort. You’re quite the mess aren’t you. Luckily for you, I would be happy to help. After all, you look good enough to eat.”

Your body warms, your limbs tingle, as if you’re able to feel every lingering trace of the man’s eyes on your body. Perhaps you can, given your intimate, everlasting bond. “Devour me then, my love,” you respond, beginning to walk toward him.

“Tut tut,” he warns, stopping you with an open palm. You pause, halfway between him and the pool of blood behind you. “You’ll receive my attention soon enough. First,” he licks his lips. “I think you ought to prepare yourself for me. Make my meal worth it.”

“Gladly,” you say, with a shallow gulp, your throat thick with a building desire. This is all part of the new game he likes to play, one you are only too happy to oblige. For you, his closest, most beloved treasure, he would do anything– but only if you showed him how much you wanted it. Begged for it.

You didn’t mind– for now. Let him have his fun and games, you think. It must be nice playing the master. But once this is all said and done, I know who shall wield the netherstones, I know who shall dominate the brain. All in the name of Bhaal.

Standing here, in the midst of your father’s bloody keep, newly bestowed with the title of his most unholy assassin, you strip your body bare.

As each piece of your armor comes off, you maintain eye contact with your lover, drinking in his wicked, openly lustful expression. At the sight of your bare chest, his smile widens. Once your bottoms are off, he takes a step closer, almost within your reach, but not quite.

Your building arousal is evident to him. Killing the hollyphant, coating yourself in blood, and now stripping before him, you certainly feel ready for him– though you know he wants more from you than that. Won’t take that final step until you’re well and truly pleading. You lower a hand between your thighs, starting with a gentle, teasing stroke.

“Good,” Astarion murmurs, eyes fixating on your hand, watching as you begin a more frenzied rhythm, as your fingers, slick with blood, are almost fumbling in their eagerness. Still, he doesn’t come closer, keeps his arms crossed as he watches in interest.

“Faster, my pet.” You go faster, beginning to pant as you work yourself up.

“A bit more pressure, darling.” You apply more pressure, barely muting the groan that comes to your lips.

“Now, now. Don’t be afraid to speak up. You do know how I adore your voice,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip in anticipation.

You both know that there isn’t a door to this room, its stone entryway is wide and open to the ghosts of Bhaal’s tribunal. However, you also know that these ghosts are inconsequential, memories of those who were unable to bring glory to your father’s name– they should fear you and your ecstasy.

So you do as Astarion commands, allowing your mouth to drop open, an unrepentant moan exiting your lips as you continue to pleasure yourself.

Surely, this is enough for your lover. Your legs begin to tremble as you work yourself into a fervor and you don’t know how much longer you can last with his lidded eyes watching your every twitch.

But, of course, the vampire ascendent is unrelenting in his power. His next demand comes with a soft purr to his voice, betraying none of the wicked indulgence on his face, “My little love, relax. And make sure that you don’t ruin my meal.”

At first, you’re unsure what he means– how can you relax when the heat within you boils to a fever pitch? But you see the way his gaze drops down your body, tracing the rivulets of blood that have begun to pool at your feet. Ah.

It’s been long enough that the blood from your sanguine bath has begun to trickle off of you, a waste really. So you drop to your knees before the pool, run your hands across its crimson surface, and return to your own aching core.

Your hands a bloody red, coat your throbbing arousal in a few swift motions. Looking back up at Astarion from your reverent position before him, you ask, “Better?”

The low growl he gives you would be answer enough, but he still deigns to offer you a response, “Oh much.” His next movements are smooth, peeling off each article of his clothing as he continues to watch you through hooded eyes. “Consecrated in the blood of innocents, simply dripping for me. What more could I ask for?”

You can tell from the way that Astarion’s hands work his trousers, he’s already grown hard at the mere sight of you. The soft moan that leaves him as he brushes his cock almost brings you to the edge right then and there. Because this vampire lord, ruler of the night and nightmare among men, simply cannot wait any longer to pleasure you.

While he’s become more pristine, more poised in his ascension– he’s also become far more bestial. It shows in the way he tears an enemy in half, and it shows in the way he wantonly tears through you as soon as he's given the chance. So the lord falls, naked, to his knees before you, crawling over your kneeling body with hunger and purpose.

“Astarion,” you start, moving to reach out to him, to capture his beautiful lips with yours. But you're only met with an upheld hand.

“Not yet, my treasure.” His hand lands on your thigh, gripping it, and prying your legs apart. “I must tend to my consort first."

Then his mouth drops onto you.

Astarion's practiced tongue is normally quite an indulgent experience for you, a way for him to tend to you, as he said. But today, his tongue laps in a long, languid movement, capturing every bit of the blood that coats you. He moves so slowly, too slowly. It feels sinful, the way he teases. Your hips buck in response, your legs instinctively clench, but he grips you in place all the same.

“Astarion,” you breath out, barely able to hold another coherent thought as your bloody hands find his head, twining into his hair for dear life. ”Faster, please.”

He tilts his head up, giving you a bloody grin. “I simply must savor you first. Especially when you’ve prepared such a luscious meal.”

You can tell he likes this, your desperation. It gives him a sense of power and control he’s longed for for so long– and you, the chosen of Bhaal, his newly minted unholy assassin, are an utter prize to torment. He won’t give you what you want until he’s satisfied, and you’re starting to believe that this man can never be fully sated, even freed from his sanguine hunger.

So you plead, this time with more need in your voice, “Please, Astarion.”

“Oh, very well then. Whatever my precious consort desires,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss on the soft, inner skin of your thigh.

Then he’s back on you, his tongue picking up speed as he circles your arousal. Your breath catches, your fingers tighten on his hair and once more you’re brought to the precipice. Pleasure builds in your core as he begins to suckle, drawing out of you a cry of sheer rhapsody.

The vampire’s fingers dig into your flesh as he sucks hard, and the pressure in you snaps. Your back arches as you come, thighs fighting against your lover’s grip. You hold his head to you tightly as he continues to nurse you in soft, rhythmic draws. Like the precious fiend you are, he cradles your hips to his mouth as he eases you down from your high.

Your vision swims and the blood that you’ve streaked through Astarion’s hair feels like the only thing in focus. It glistens red, whispering to you the sweet caress of blood and gore– in your euphoria, the man before you looks godly in his disarray.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, slurring your words in your stupor.

Astarion lifts his head, looking up at you through his long lashes. “As are you, my sweet.”

You produce a breathy laugh, knowing that you look a mess, still coated in more blood than usual– but also knowing that he means it. Especially as he continues crawling up your body, tongue tracing each line of blood, lapping at you as if a man possessed.

Each stroke of his tongue serves in equal measure to clean you as it does to reignite the fire in your belly. Inch by bloody inch, he licks along every rich ruby rivulet he can reach as he works his way up. The thought of this man, not cleansing you of your sins, but rather drinking them in, relishing them on his equally vicious tongue– well, you're far beyond any amount of shame, and your moans of pleasure cascade off the room's stone walls in a raucous symphony.

Finally, he reaches your face, hovering just above your lips as his tongue licks his own free of blood. "Now, my little love… tell me what it is you want from me,” he commands.

You’re still reeling from the feel of his mouth on you, speech seems too tall of an order at the moment. In fact, right now, the only things you can think of are his red eyes, beautiful bloody hair, and his stiff arousal, pressing into you.

So you reach down, trailing your bloody hand along the length of him, guiding him toward you in a wordless request.

"Use your words, darling," he says, nearly brushing your lips with his as he grinds into your hand to punctuate his sentence.

"Take me," you manage to gasp out. Then you take a deep, shuddering breath. You let the urge overtake you. "Let us sanctify this unholy ground. Show it the depths of our depravity." You squeeze his cock in another silent demand, devouring the groan that escapes him as you cover his mouth with your own.

Losing yourself in his flavor, metallic, and tasting distinctly of your own fluids, you only barely manage to remember to breathe. Your head spins, but he is all you want in your lungs. You’re not sure what triggers this desperation, whether it be the instincts within you or the very nature of the vampire before you, but you do know that it compels you to take every bit of him you can.

So you stroke at his length, consuming each and every noise he makes like the ravenous beast you are. He nips at your lips, a playful reprimand, but one that you take seriously.

You pull away from him, and you're both panting into each other when his next demand comes, "I will give you all that you ask of me. But first, you must lay back."

First one leg, then the other, you lay yourself beneath him. As you roll back into the pool of blood you had been kneeling in, his eyes trail you hungrily. Beneath the man’s crimson gaze, you feel every bit the depraved demigod you are. Like your cruel, tool of a body was made for him to ravish.

Astarion reaches behind you, hands skimming the basin of blood and coming back dripping crimson. To your questioning look, he merely smirks.

It's only a moment later that his hands are back between your legs. Coated with blood as they are, his dexterous fingers move fluidly to work your arousal back up. "Astarion,” you gasp out, still sensitive from his mouth’s earlier ministrations. “I need you, not– not this.”

“Patience,” he murmurs, looking down at you with a deceptively soft smile. His fingers leave your throbbing core, slipping past it to find your entrance. A single gentle, probing finger teases you, as he asks, “How much of me do you desire, my sweet love?”

“More,” you groan out, lifting your hips to meet him in your need. Again, the urge within screams. “Give me everything, and it will never be enough. I would have our very flesh coalesce so that I may be interred within your corpse at the end of the world.”

Astarion slows his finger momentarily, bends down to kiss your hateful lips, and whispers, “My lovely little lunatic, how poetic.” Then a second finger joins the first, and he’s pumping into you. Slowly at first, but his pace picks up as he finds a spot that makes you squirm.

The sound of his blood-slicked fingers entering you, over-and-over, seems to be too much for either of you to bear for long. Soon, his fingers slip out of you, his cock replacing them at your entrance before you can so much as moan his name.

Then he presses into you, truly melding your flesh with his own. He feels harder than he has before, fueled by the basin’s supply of blood. Inch by bloody inch, he enters you, and, but for a moment, your insatiable, bloody lust is satisfied by this man. Your back arches in response and your dark urges fall to much more primal ones as you attempt to clutch the slick stone beneath you. “A-Astarion,” you pant out. “Take me. Please.”

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around each of your thighs as he leverages himself, preparing for what you’re certain will be his finest performance yet. “It’s only right that you receive your reward.”

Then he pulls out, every so slightly, grins at you with a bloody, fanged mouth, and begins pounding into you.

Any normal Baldurian would balk at the force with which the man drives into you. But you are Bhaalspawn. You dwell within a realm where pleasure and pain walk hand-in-hand. And Astarion knows that– knows the limits of your wicked, bruised body.

As such, his savage thrusts are more than welcome. Your eyes close and your head rolls back as you bask in them. You find yourself to be the one issuing orders as he drives into you, again and again, “Harder. Harder.”

His fingers grip your thighs tighter as he strains to pick up the pace, to plunge into you with as much force as his sordid consort demands. The loud, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding echo through the room, punctuated by your needy cries, your lover’s grunts of exertion.

Yes, you think. Yes, break me, break Bhaal’s chosen, so that I may be rebuilt upon my own bones. Kill me to bring me back. Strip me down to lay me to waste. Cleanse me of this blood only to coat me in your own essence.

You feel your mind slipping away and your urges taking over once more as the peak of your pleasure approaches, as Astarion fucks the last sense out of you.

Eyes shut, hips sore, and mouth calling your vampire lord’s name, your climax comes crashing upon you in a wave of pure bliss.

It’s enough to send the man in front of you into a renewed fervor. Astarion grips your legs all the tighter, dipping his head forward to bite into the meat of your thigh. Fangs buried, he draws a deep gulp, relishing the taste of your orgasm in your blood.

Pulse after pulse, he plunges into you while he sucks from your veins, riding your orgasm to the last. It leaves you lightheaded and breathing heavily, but euphoric all the same.

When he finally releases your thigh from his mouth, his pace grows even more punishing. You’re certain that neither of you are leaving this unbruised, and, by the gods below, you love it. The painful slap of his hips against yours is intoxicating and you're not certain you ever want it to end. The world could collapse around you both right now, and you may not even notice it over the sound of your debauchery.

Then the vampire begins to flatter, his pace cracking as he approaches his climax.

“Not yet,” you moan, unwilling to let the feeling go. “Astarion, please.”

He doesn’t seem capable of responding, his only answer is a quiet whimper. You finally open your eyes, looking down at the man between your thighs– to see the tinge of red on his cheeks, the sheen of sweat on his brow, the tension of his neck muscles as he overexerts himself. The vampire ascendant looks utterly obscene in his unraveling.

Enough so that you clench around him, spurring on his release. “Come for me, love,” you urge, panting in anticipation of his undoing.

And he does.

Mouth open, dribbles of blood still eking out of its corners, hair shining silver and red, he looks a vision of rosy marble as he spills into you. His hands drop to your ass as he rolls into you through his climax, softer and slower than before. It’s almost sweet, if not for the bruising indents his fingers have left behind.

When he slips out of you, spent and exhausted, you can’t help but feel that in helping you clean up, he’s become quite the sight himself. You wish you could engrave this image of him into your mind, blood smeared across his face, his body, his softening cock.

You suppose it’s up to you to help him clean up.

“Astarion,” you say, sitting up and reaching for him. “Now who looks the mess?”

He gives you a low chuckle, as he crawls forward toward you, fatigued in his movements. “Oh, it’s still you, my treasure.” His crimson eyes rake across your body as he climbs lazily onto your lap, assessing the damage. “While the color red will always suit you, it wouldn’t do to waste any of this blood.”

“Was the hollyphant that satisfying?” you can’t help but ask, a smidge annoyed. “You seemed all too willing to drink from me, all the same.”

“You are the finest meal a lord could ask for, my little love,” he murmurs, before leaning forward and licking a line along your neck. “There is, however, something quite palatial about an entire pool of blood.”

“I suppose,” you concede, craning your neck for him. “If we ask nicely, perhaps my father will bestow this one upon us.”

Astarion hums into your skin with amusement. "Oh, darling. When we build our palace, we shall need a dozen such pools of blood." He pulls your hand to his lips, slowly sucking each finger clean.

You sigh, allowing the man’s clever tongue to lap at you, allowing his delusions of grandeur to comfort him. After all, when all is said and done, the realm will be decimated, destroyed in the name of Bhaal.

At least for now, you will allow yourself to live in his fantasy. So you simply reply, "And I shall be glad to fill each and every pool with the blood of our enemies."

He continues to lick, as you lavish him with praise. All the while you can’t help but think that you quite enjoy your new position as the unholy assassin of Bhaal. Hopefully father continues to throw me into situations involving such vast quantities of blood.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #fanfiction #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #astarion x dark urge #astarion x durge #gn smut #astarion x evil!durge #dom astarion

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straykids-97 · 1 year

Text

Masterlist!!

•Anons are welcome AND encouraged!•

💫Stray Kids🌌

Bang Chan

Vermillion - Chan likes when you make him feel powerful. And one thing he likes to do is hunt... You. Chokehold - Chan can't sleep, so he wakes you up. Undone - Chan appreciates art. Sometimes it's music and sometimes it's hearing you say his name. Eloquent - Chan's age doesn't mean he's practiced in all arts... Covet - You join Chan while he works in the studio, and you get yourself into trouble... Eros - You spend the day thinking about Chan, and the he comes home after receiving an interesting picture of you... Vexation - Chan doesn’t like when someone touches what his Call Me by Your Name - There are a lot of things in the world that Chris loves... But hearing you say his name, is probably his favorite... Soft? - You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself Chase - Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs Candy Floss? - Never say no to cotton candy... Or is it candy floss?

Drabbles/hard thoughts/Soft thoughts

Hardthought

Chan Drabble 1

Chan Drabble 2

Chan Drabble 3

Bang Chan Drabble

Chan Drabble 4

Chan/ Minho Anon Drabble

Chan Rant/Drabble

Soft Thought 1

Chan Drabble 5

Hardthought 2

Lee Know

The Summoning - the best sins are committed by those who'd you least expect... Mirror, Mirror - You push Lee Know over the edge, and now you're faced with your reflections... Obedient - You can't help but listen to every word that Minho says, even if it's bad Vanity - Mirrors reflect our own vanity, and Minho can’t stop using his… Drip - A human being is only breath and shadow.

Drabbles/hard thoughts

Lee Know Drabble

Chan/ Minho Anon Drabble

Changbin

Hands - Changin's love language happens to be touch, and his hands are your weakness... Dessert - After hanging out with your friends, Changbin stops to get you some ice cream... Then he gets his own dessert... Passion - Changbin asks to come see you after a long day at the studio, and things heat up... Cherry - After a chance encounter, you meet Changbin again under much less innocent circumstances… Letters to the Moon - Changbin likes to push you until you're flustered. Until you feel like you can't take it anymore... But then pull you back and keep you where he wants you... Heat - Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.

Drabbles/Hard thoughts

Hyunjin

Silhouette - Hyunjin enjoys painting... But he likes painting you more... (one and only smut to be flagged lol wtf) Love Potion - Three things cannot be long hidden; the sun, the moon, and the truth.

Drabbles/Hard thoughts

Felix

Blurry - Blur the lines of conformity.

Drabble/Hard thoughts

Lee Felix Drabble

BROWNIE BOY

Soft thoughts

Angel

Han

Blurry - Blur the lines of conformity.

Drabble/ Hard thoughts

Seungmin

Sweet - Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.

Drabbles/ Hard thoughts

I.N

Fever - Passion is a sort of fever in the mind, which ever leaves us weaker than it found us.

Drabbles/ Hard thoughts

🫧Ateez🏴‍☠️

Seonghwa

Carmine - Seonghwa enjoys many things in life and overindulges occasionally. Sometimes it just happens to be you... Narcissist - Seonghwa likes to annoy you, but his favorite thing to do is make you cry…

Drabbles/ Hard thoughts

Seonghwa hard thought 1

Seonghwa hard thought 2

Yunho

Jaws - Yunho is prepared to do everything to help you forget. Even if that means doing something you've never done before. Scarlet - Yunho is a patient man, but sometimes you wear his patience thin… Take it Back - Once said, you can't take it back...

Drabbles/Hard thoughts

TMI??

Yunho Hard thought 1

Oh?

Control

San

The Offering - San can't help but taste the sweetest thing possible... and that's you. Ego - Wooyoung finally convinces you to try something new… and you quickly discover that it’s very taboo…

Drabbles/Hard thoughts

Choi San Brain Rot

Mingi

The Night Does Not Belong to God - Mingi's favorite pass time is watching your eyes roll... Ruby - Mingi is an educated man in all aspects...

Drabbles/Hard thoughts

Mingi Drabble

Mingi Drabble 💭✍🏻

Wooyoung

Ego - Wooyoung finally convinces you to try something new… and you quickly discover that it’s very taboo…

Rants

Grievance/ Rant

Chan Rant

#bang chan smut #ateez smut #ateez imagines #skz drabbles #ateez drabbles #yunho smut #mingi smut #changbin smut #lee know smut #skz smut

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madelynraemunson · 2 months

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CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy is dating his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. King Steve is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut okay i think i tagged everybody

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Spotify

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Text

cw: voyeurism, masturbation // 18+ mdni, pervy!fem!reader

thinking about catching roommate!bakugou whispering your name while he touches himself.

it's not supposed to go like this, never like this, but the way your name keeps leaving your roommate's - your friend's - lips in these slightly panting, breathy whispers is just too sweet to resist.

it's temptation in its purest form - the spying. you call yourself a decent girl, try to convince your moral compass that you don't want to observe him when he's at his most vulnerable state, and yet you still stand in the dark hallway like some pervert anyway; hiding amongst the safety of its shadows and savoring every second of it.

you're even going as far as to peer into the living room from around the corner, with your eyes nearly burning two holes into the back of his head from how hotly lustful your gaze has become.

but above all else, you listen closely.

because how can you possibly keep yourself from doing that, when his voice is a low rasp, now; is laced with numerous coarse grunts that you've certainly never witnessed him using before? i mean, he's said your name plenty of times in the course of befriending you, sure - amongst other rather crude nicknames that he's lenient towards whenever he's agitated and you're in a mood to drive him even further up the wall, of course - but fuck, every letter sounds so appealingly sinful to leave his mouth at this very moment.

it makes you feel sort of dizzy as you strain your ears to hear him better. as you push forwards and step onto the tips of your toes slightly because they just won't stop curling in their fuzzy socks, god damn them.

after all, it's all you have. you can't see him as he sits with his back turned to you on top of the living room sofa that's certainly seen some better days, but that neither of you bothers to replace. can't catch a glimpse of the faces he pulls while he fucks his fist to the thought of nobody other but you, it seems. can't watch as his lips part and those fierce carmine eyes of his roll into the back of his skull from how his arm picks up its pace.

up and down, up and down, up and down. so high, so low.

so big.

so you settle on the sounds instead. on his coarse language; on all the fuck's and ah's and mm's. on his deep breathing and panting that sometimes hitches in the back of his throat whenever he, unbeknownst to you, comes real close to his finish, but edges himself right back into calmness instead. on the wet, sloppy noise that certainly has to be the lube that squirts and dribbles down his cock and turns it all sticky in-between his fingers. on your name, your name, your name.

and all right, perhaps your eyes do get a little show of their own. because when you look more closely and force yourself to really focus, you can see the flex of his defined bicep, then; the glimmer of sweat on the nape of his neck that turns the short, ash-blonde hair there damp with salt. can see the way his broad shoulders move, tan skin completely bare because of the summer heat.

he's sun-kissed and that's wonderful, but you want to do a better job than the fucking sun, and lick him all over instead. to walk over there, undress right in front of him in the mellow glow of the television he's left on, and sit right onto his dick that he's palming so furiously; so sloppily now. just ride it and ride and ride it, until he's moaning your name with shameless vigour, not this hushed cowardice that doesn't suit him his brash personality at all.

but instead, all you do is continue to watch him, of course you. because it's more proper; safe. like some sick, nasty and perverted girl, you spy on him until the very end - until he finishes. until he pushes his head back against the backrest of the couch, and this broken sort of moan leaves him, one that warms up your entire body as he tries to grit his teeth to quiet it down, and turns your legs entirely pliant for him in return. that causes heat to spill inside your belly, that makes it pool between your thighs until your cutesy cotton panties become soaked without a single touch landing on your needy cunt, much less inside it.

the wetness you feel turns profound quick. especially as he continues to breathe hard and ragged after coming back down. as he looses a sigh after a moment of thought, the sticky mess certainly caused because he's been imagining you riding him; imagining that little pussy of yours leaking the cum that's dripping off of his fucking knuckles now instead. as he curses, shakes his head as if in disappointment, and mutters an even more displeased "pathetic", aiming it right at himself.

and it takes all the power within you to not laugh and say "damn right you are", then. to not look him in the eyes before sinking to your knees right in front of him, soft mouth and warm, saliva-coated tongue so, so eager to clean him up before he's ready for a proper round this time. to not moan his own name out, in a way he's never heard it before either.

but alas, playtime is over. you see him brace himself to stand up, and it's your cue to leave. to give him the privacy he should have had from the start.

all hot and bothered, but still wary enough; you don't risk closing the door of your bedroom all the way in fear of it making too much noise if it'd click shut. so you slide into bed as silently as you can. curl yourself amongst the thin linen sheets. pull your favourite toy out of the drawer as you hear a set of footsteps heading towards the bathroom, followed by a flick of a lightswitch.

so you press the button on your toy. set the vibrator on the lowest setting, but make sure the buzz is still audible. prepare yourself to taste his name on your tongue as you spread your legs slightly, and feel that first wave of thrill rush over you.

who knows, maybe he'll come listen to you, too.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bnha smut #biscuit drabbles #cw voyeurism #katsuki bakugou smut

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copias-girl · 1 year

Text

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter II

Song recommendation for this series!

Chapter I, Chapter III

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

You hadn’t seen much of Copia in a few days, mostly because the Papas kept you busy and the Cardinal was also being kept occupied with work in his office. Sometimes at night, when you were laying awake in bed, you’d hear footsteps down the corridor outside your room. You wondered if it was him, finally trudging back to his quarters after working a long day on translations and black mass preparations and everything else that was in that big stack of paper he was carrying the other day.

The more you thought of it, the more you wanted to throw open the door and pull him inside your room so you could hold him all night long. That subtle need deep inside you burned brighter with each passing day, especially when you kept hearing so many people throughout the day make jokes about Copia, about how weird and awkward he was.

You had passed him in the halls a few times, and you couldn’t help the way your smouldering gaze would sweep over his form. There was just something about Copia that had you biting your lip every time you saw him, always looking good enough to eat in his cassock and biretta. He, on the other hand, had a hard time holding your gaze, his cheeks flushing and his mismatched eyes darting away from yours several times, shyly shooting down to the scandalously high slit in your habit. You always gave him a little smile; a warm one, a respectful one, one that showed the Cardinal that you weren’t laughing at him like everyone else was.

•𖤐•

You were just waiting for an excuse to visit him in his office; fuck, it actually kind of made you feel restless as you stood in the hallway, using a feather duster to clean the ornate candelabras that lined the walls.

Sisters of sin could often be seen doing daily tasks and chores around the abbey, and you were no exception. You all shared the workload, either being assigned certain chores each week or choosing which ones you wanted to partake in. Dusting was one of your personal favourites, so that you could daydream and hum to yourself while doing the mindless work. When there was no one around, sometimes you would pretend like you were in a 1950s musical, dancing and singing and twirling all around with your little feather duster.

It wasn’t long before Sister Imperator called your name, startling you out of your daze.

“Sister Imperator!” You greeted her with a smile.

“Oh, good, you’ve done a marvellous job with the dusting, Sister!” She grinned, gesturing to your work. “Why don’t you take a break for now? It’s shopping day and I was thinking you and some other sisters could head into town and get some things. We’re in desperate need of more black candles, and things like that. Here, I’ve made a list.” She explained, handing you a piece of paper.

“Sure thing!” You nodded, taking the paper and looking it over. It contained things that were needed for mass, like candles and incense, and also ingredients for certain rituals.

“Excellent!” Imperator clasped her hands together happily. “I’ve already told the others so I’ll have a ghoul bring the car around shortly. You can also all get some snacks and things that you’d like to eat, by the way.” She told you. “Oh, and why don’t you go get C from his office and take him with you? It would do him good to get out a little bit!” She added before turning and walking away.

A delighted smirk found its way onto your face as you quickly abandoned your dusting for now, heels clicking as you made your way there.

You stopped by your room to get a Mix Max cake before slinking down the corridor to his office.

You knocked on the ornate, dark wooden door, trying not to look too excited as you waited for the man to answer. You heard some rustling before the door was pulled open, Copia’s sweet face lighting up when he saw you. However, you weren’t exactly sure what it lit up with. Fear? Excitement? Nervousness? Perhaps a mix of everything?

“Hi Cardinal.” You greeted him, a lilt of flirtatiousness in your voice as you held up the little wrapped cake.

“O-oh, ciao, Sorella! Grazie.” He stuttered nervously, taking the cake from you with a shy smile creeping onto his face. You were the only one who was kind to him, you made him feel… special. And it did something to him inside, you did something to him inside. The mere sight of you made his head spin, gave him anxiety and butterflies in his stomach and rendered him a tongue-tied and stuttering fool. Well, Copia supposed that he was perhaps just naturally a tongue-tied and stuttering fool. But still, your essence nearly pained him, and the fact that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen yet you were the kindest to him… Well, it seemed almost paradoxical. The poor man didn’t suspect a thing about you finding him romantically interesting, however. He simply thought you were being nice out of pity.

“How are you settling in, Cardinal?” You asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. You swore his breath hitched in his throat at that, at the way you were standing just a bit too close than what would be considered appropriate.

“Ehh, I- Si, good, I… Well, si, thank you.” He finally settled on saying, but you felt like he was leaving something out. You could only guess that it was about the way he was being ruthlessly made fun of by the other siblings of sin.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Cardinal? You’re looking a little flushed.” You gently fawned over the man, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to feel for a fever.

“I…” Copia quietly started, but trailed off, not knowing what to say.

After a moment, you shook your head, murmuring something about your hands always being cold, and you cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his forehead instead. You know, just to get a more accurate idea of his temperature.

Now you were sure you heard the Cardinal’s breath hitch at that, not only from your action but because from this angle, the only thing in his line of sight was your cleavage showing from the low cut neckline of your habit. But as quickly as it happened, it was over. You pulled away, trying to hide your delight at his deeply reddened cheeks and widened eyes.

You took the cake out of his gloved hands, unwrapping it and holding it up to his lips.

“Here, eat. I know you’ve been working a lot, right? Have you eaten?” You asked, watching as he took a bite, letting you feed him.

Copia shook his head no, sheepishly flicking his eyes down. He was nearly overwhelmed by the sight of your bare leg sticking out of the slit in your habit and how it was lightly brushing up against his cassock from how close to him you were standing.

Feeding him another bite, you placed your other hand on his shoulder once more, gently getting his attention.

“So, we’re going into town today because we need to get some supplies, and Sister Imperator said you should come. Do you want to?” You proposed.

“Mm,” Copia nodded, finishing the last of the cake. “Okie dokie, I will come..” He agreed, and sweet Satan, your heart melted right then and there. This adorable old man really just said okie dokie in complete seriousness and for some reason that drove you wild. It made you wet, it made lust pool deep within you, it made you want to devour him.

“Good.” You smiled simply, catching his mismatched gaze as you licked the residual chocolate off your fingers. He watched you intently, swallowing nervously as he awaited your next move.

“Well, I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes! Sister Imperator said she was having a ghoul bring the car around.” You chirped happily, the hand on his shoulder ghosting down his arm before you spun on your heel and left.

Copia was left flustered and slightly confused, wondering if all this really happened or if you were just a daydream.

•𖤐•

You met Sisters Mable, Ava, Lilith, and Emily on the grand front steps of the abbey, the ghoul already waiting in the sleek black 1949 Rolls-Royce.

“Wow, you look hot!” Sister Mable commented, looking you up and down as the other sisters agreed. Well, all of them except Emily. Recently, you had started wearing your dressier habit, the one with the low cut neckline and scandalously high slit. None of the other sisters ever wore theirs, usually just sticking to the standard one.

“What, this old thing? Why, I only wear it when I don’t care how I look~” You giggled, twirling a lock of your hair and making the other girls laugh.

The sisters got into the car, and that’s when Copia came shuffling out of the large doors, his gloved hands clasped meekly in front of himself as he made his way to the car.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Mable grumbled.

“Who invited the weirdo?” Emily asked loudly, obviously striving to make Copia feel as unwelcome as possible.

“Sister Imperator suggested he come.” You retorted. “And, well, I think he should too.” You added, giving the poor man an encouraging little smile when his eyes met yours, clearly surprised by you sticking up for him to your friends.

“Well, looks like there’s no more room in the car anyway so he’ll have to stay home!” Lilith chimed in, a smug smile on her face as she gestured to the last spot in the backseat.

“No, because I’ll just-“ You gestured for Copia to get in the car, and when he did, you took a seat right on his lap and closed the door. “There.” You said, the finality in your voice shutting up the other girls, who only stared at you in surprise.

“Is this okay?” You asked the Cardinal, who quickly nodded and stammered out a shy affirmation, his arms naturally coming to wrap around your waist like a seatbelt.

And with that, you were all on your way; gazing out the window as the ghoul drove you into town.

But suddenly the car turned onto this one road and- Satan below, were they doing construction here or something? The road was so ridiculously bumpy, causing everyone in the car to bounce up and down rapidly.

You squirmed on Copia’s lap as you bounced, trying to keep your place and not slide off. Your one hand was tightly gripping the ceiling handle of the car while your other hand found purchase on the Cardinal’s thigh, which was surprisingly muscular.

However, that mental observation was immediately interrupted by something far more… intrusive.

Oh…. Oh. Your eyes widened in realization at what it was. The more you bounced and squirmed, the harder Copia’s cock got, so you could feel every inch of it fully pressing against you as it strained against the pants he wore under his cassock. And holy fuck, he was… big. You also became aware of the Cardinal’s strained breaths as he desperately fought to keep quiet, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly as his cheeks burned with shame.

He really did feel so fucking ashamed, like the biggest pervert on the face of the planet. But he just couldn’t help it, not when your perfect ass was pressed against him like this, practically grinding against him.

You shifted again from a particularly obnoxious bump in the road and suddenly his cock was pressed right into your pussy, causing you to yelp out loud from the shock of pleasure.

“Are you alright??” Ava asked you.

“Y-yeah just-! This road is so bumpy, I hit my head on the ceiling of the car.” You lied, even rubbing the top of your head to make it seem convincing.

“Yeah, this road is crazy!” Lilith laughed in disbelief.

You and Copia both stifled moans, releasing sighs of relief when the car finally pulled onto a normal fucking street.

After a few moments, you turned slightly sideways on the Cardinal’s lap, causing him to tense up and exhale shakily with each of your movements.

You were so close, the tips of your noses nearly brushing as you leaned in, cupping your hands around his ear.

“I think there’s something in your pocket that’s poking me.” You whispered, playing dumb, but your voice had a slight edge of knowingness to it. You pulled away just enough to gauge his reaction, and Copia only nodded, biting his lip.

“M-mi dispiace…” He murmured.

“Don’t be.” You replied quietly, biting your own lip to prevent a smirk from forming as you turned to face forward again.

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine @ramblingoak @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @angelconservation @yourlocalghouleh @gh0sty6 @nikolaiology @thenick100 @mothsdraw

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watercurtaincave · 4 months

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𖤓 !! — A Hero and A Warrior and... 000 | prologue

"Summary"! I once met a friend who told me you cannot run from destiny, for density will always seek you down and strike when you least expect it. She told me that density is a constant, a circling force that drives the planet in the way it was meant to and there is no changing its fate or its course. So I say these next words as an apology of sorts, though I’m sure the sin I’ve committed could never be tarnished and cleaned from my soul nor the blood will be scorn off my hands as it burns to touch: “I’m sorry.” And I could only hope you can take that apology and find it somewhere in your hearts to forgive me, to forgive the person I’ve become, and everything I have ever done to hurt you. Please, may you forget the memory of me and anything that is related; Maybe, in another life, in a different time, when destiny was on our side and the stars aligned, everything would be so much more different.

Sometimes there’s a wandering thought that crosses my mind, one that sparked several curiosities about those who I’ve befriended and the life I used to live. These thoughts usually struck themselves in my mind when I’m alone, more prevalently in the windy night where the moon was full and sparkled off the icicles that had been stricken up. Their frosted bases hold all of the world's secrets, despite never reflecting them back at me when I stared. Maybe there was a point in life, at least at one point I knew there was a point in my life. I was meant to be with someone, or be near someone, or simply just be their acquaintance for a short period of time before I left; Being as wandering as my thoughts, being as mysterious as those secrets held in the ice. Maybe I would have given people advice, maybe even gifts of knowledge and relished in their success from a far before they came to seek me out again and thank me. Maybe I would have beckoned them to come and stay for a while, in a place where time seemed to freeze and everything seemed right for a moment.

Maybe I was meant to be someone, instead of being no one. That was curious thought upon itself; The thought of having a name and identity that was to be known instead of trailing behind the one person who still remembers who I am, who I used to be. Was this meant to be my destiny? To be another nameless face in a plan, someone who stood behind another like a scared little mouse to only be used when the time was right, when all the pawns were laid out on the table. Sometimes that thought crossed my head too, but I never endorsed its stay. Oddly enough, sometimes it was better just to accept what was happening right now at face value, to simply do as I was told without complaints. After all, who would even listen to a person they once knew yet now no longer knew? Especially one who worked for their sworn enemy, the one who planned to destroy the world and created it to perfection–and who promised you the life you were always meant to have: One of peace. I would like that very much.

“No matter what you do, you cannot change the path of destiny.” Despite the pounding fear in his heart, the ragged thoughts that raced through, and the rush to grab the staff MK heard these words loud and clear. They were spoken in an icy cold voice, one that was almost mystical if it was not for the evil that had spoken them. And yet, they made him falter all the same. He stood in front of the staff, the one weapon he believed in the most to grant him the courage to face the Lady despite everything that had happened; It shone, whispering his name in a calling tone. “I don’t know if all this happened because it was destined to,” MK breathed out, taking a moment to glance up at the Lady. His voice quivered, his eyes faltered and found their place back to the staff, “but I have to believe I found the staff so I could use it for good. To help people, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to take my staff and protect the world!” And there was an odd sensation that made MK’s heart beat rapidly, despite the clanking of metal in the background. There was a rush of thought that filled his head, the worry of not being good enough subduing for a moment as he grabbed ahold of the staff. He heard the whispers crawl up his skin, moving towards his ears as he dug his feet into the ground and– The staff was stuck. Yeah, of course it could never be that easy! MK cursed to himself as he soon tried multiple ways of freeing the staff, mostly out of pure spite. He would yank it, kick the ice, jack hammer it (with a jack hammer he didn’t even know he had!) and even bite it off. Nothing would work, go figure.

“Ah, sweet child, can’t you see?” The eerie whispering voice of the Lady Bone Demon returned to taunt MK, “Sun Wukong couldn’t best me. What could you hope to accomplish when he has failed!” An echoing laugh paired with MK’s terror as he heard a body slam to the ground behind them, and MK knew Macaque was down for now; The time they had tried to buy for MK was up and MK didn’t even have the staff, it was stuck in the pillar of ice. “Cast aside your stubbornness and face your demise with honor!” Wukong’s armor would clank with his uncharacteristically heavy footsteps, slowly drawing closer upon the wishes whispered to him through his ear; The infecting parasite giving him, the real Wukong, no change to control his own body, not even a smidge. Even so, MK knew that he was trying to fight it, shouting and yelling for MK to get out of the way, to go and run. Yet, MK couldn’t do that. He couldn’t abandon a friend who needed his help, and Wukong needed his help right now! “If you really do believe that destiny can’t be changed you wouldn’t be using every ounce of power you have to keep him contained!” MK shouted up at the Lady, clenching his fists at her taunting and pitiful giggles towards the current battle. She thought she had the upper hand, that’s where MK would prove her wrong! She would not win, not on his watch; And he saw the way she recoiled away in disgust at his accusation yet there was a crack in the vessel she was using. Checkmate.

The heavy footsteps of Wukong continued towards MK, and Macaque hoped that this kid's crazy plan would actually work; Or else he would have a lot of explaining to do when this whole situation was over. “The Monkey king I know will never stop fighting you!... And neither will I.” A beat, and there was a pause in time. The Lady glared down at him with a widening smirk, despite the crack in her vessel, watching as Wukong drew back his fists and feet. Watching as Macaque winced as he tried to stand up to rush and stop Wukong, but being unable to even get off his knees due to the beating he endured earlier. She couldn’t help but cackle as Wukong flung himself forward, intending the ground and bulleting right towards MK with a full-power fist ready to strike. And yet her smirk dropped as soon as the smoke cleared, “Thanks for not giving up on me bud,” and Wukong’s voice rang out to snuff some of the flame of the Lady’s destiny. “No!” Lady Bone Demon breathed out, off put at the sudden change. “No!”

MK snickered as he glanced over at Wukong, nodding as he grabbed the staff along with Wukong, “Time for the hero stuff.” The hero stuff, MK’s favorite part! Without missing a beat, strengthening his own pose along with Wukong, they would roughly pry the staff from the ice. And it felt so surreal feeling the energy of the Monkey King, of the staff, rushing around Wukong and MK; darting back under their pores and skin, filling their whole being, before swirling up and shooting upward with unbelievable power. MK felt his stance give for a moment, heard the whispers from the magic, yet was quickly supported by Wukong; Who got a sneak shot of the ring that shot out toward the Lady, forcefully slamming her into the wall of her own mech. He couldn’t help but snicker, even after the power cleared and left Wukong with the sickening feeling of the small scraps of the Lady’s power under his skin. It still made him shutter. Yet, the sight of the Lady huffing with weakness against the wall of her own creation made that thought leave for a moment; That was until MK rushed over to Wukong, celebrating his return, and Macaque grunted as he got up pointing at the sudden release of magic.

Yeah, maybe this isn’t the best time to be celebrating. Especially since Wukong didn’t notice the Lady suddenly draw forward, the feeling of her power quickly swirling back to the host. His eyes widened as he quickly swiped MK behind him; “Predictably, unpredictable fools!” Lady Bone Demon shouted, screamed, and dare say even threw some sort of a tantrum. The vessel she was using began to crack and splitter, split away with the surging magic, I’m not one to rush destiny but I will not be undone by a troop of headstrong simpletons!” And then it broke and Macaque rushed forward to grab the girl. And MK took a step back in witnessing the true form of the Lady Bone Demon. And suddenly everything felt off to Wukong. Something that caused his hairs to stand up, his joints to stiffen as he glanced around at the sudden surge of oddly familiar power he was sure he had never felt before. Someone else was here, there was another piece in the game that no one had even detected before; Someone who held all the power of a god yet Wukong was sure he had never met a god such as this one before, despite the way his heart gave a flutter upon feeling it. Macaque felt it all too. “You think this is over?” The Lady Bone demon laughed, staring down at the group of three with her void eyes as she floated above dauntingly, daringly. “This isn’t over, until I fulfill my destiny! I’ve been planning this for too long and it won’t go wrong this time. Do you hear me?!”

There was no chance to respond, not even a second to breathe, as a large hand slammed itself on the top of the mech followed by the Lady’s laughter. Wukong felt his blood run cold. “I have erased one god from this world and I will continue to do so until things are perfect!” She would taunt as the demonic hand behind her slowly rose into a monster, one similar to Macaque’s yet made out of some sort of godly essence and boiling hatred. It loomed above like thundering clouds as a threatening, undefined smile, etched upon its face. This wasn’t the magic of the Lady Bone Demon, that Wukong and Macaque knew for sure; It did have some essence of her control, of her buffing, yet it was not hers fully like Wukong’s had. No, despite all the hatred that laced the outer layer and the crackling godly magic that contained no vessel, it had such a different underlying presence that it felt so out of place; So oddly out of place, yet so oddly familiar and calming and alluring… “Say hello to your lover, Monkey boys, because I bet you don’t even remember them.” And that’s when it clicked.

000 | next materlist | A03

𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#lmk macaque x reader #six eared macaque #lmk sunwukong x reader #sun wukong #sunwukong x reader x macaque #sun wukong x reader x macaque #lmk x reader #lmk mk #lmk macaque #lmk #lmk sun wukong #monkie kid #lmk wukong #lmk swk #lmk x y/n #lmk fanfiction #lmk fandom #lmk lady bone demon

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hyperfixiation-station · 3 months

Text

Choice, Choices, Choices Pt. 2

TW: Swearing, canon typical violence

Pairing: Reader x Graves Summary: Well your week off wasn't very productive, hopefully a really stressful, fate-of-the-world-is-in-your-hands mission will help clear your brain. As usual, I didn't beta read, so lmk if there are an errors :) Also sorry for the reupload, I accidentally deleted it whilst trying to edit something lmaooo.

When Price said a lot, he meant a lot.

In the time you had been gone, a new terrorist threat had popped up, a man named Hassan who somehow had gotten ahold of American missiles. You didn’t even have time to unpack before Price was shipping you off to Mexico to help Soap and Ghost infiltrate a cartel to find the location of said missing missiles. It seems the talk with Graves will have to wait.

You get no rest on the flight to Mexico. Instead you spend the entire time focusing on your and Grave’s relationship. Maybe it’s the threat of imminent annihilation, or maybe it’s the fact that you are going to be seeing him soon, but whatever it is, you were thinking more clearly than you have all week.

Graves was a man of authority, and you had recognized it from the moment you had met him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made sure everyone knew he was the top dog. In your relationship he always had the last say, always chose the restaurant, always chose the movie. And for the most part, you didn’t mind, enjoying the feeling of not having to be in control for once when all you did all day long was make choices that could mean life or death.

He had this belief that he could do no wrong, and was smug and uptight and sometimes even cruel about it.

And yet there was something…alluring about him. Some magnetic charm that drew you in every time you wanted to take a step back. He didn’t even have to try, hell, he had stopped putting effort into the relationship years ago, and yet you still found him almost irresistible.

You weren’t stupid, you knew what there were issues in the way your relationship worked, but you loved him, and he…loved you too. It wasn’t until Ghost stepped fully into the picture that you realized that may-

“Y/N!” You flinch, your eyes coming up to meet your pilots as his voice snaps you out of your musings.

“You okay in there? I’ve been yelling at you for at least a minute.” He says over the headset, “Anyways we’re about to land, so get ready.” You nod, shouldering your pack and making sure your vest is strapped correctly.

5 minutes later, the helo begins its choppy descent. The second it touches down you are ushered off, ducking under the blades in an odd crab run as you make your way to where Soap, Ghost, and 2 strangers stand to the side. The pilot takes off before you've even cleared the LZ.

“Good ta’ see yer no’ dead lassie.” Soap grin, clasping your shoulder, “Ah trust Price has briefed ye?”

“Aye.” You nod, “Though he didn’t mention these two. Who are they?”

“These are th’ Los Vaqueros.” Soap says giddy, “Means th’ cowboys”

“My name is Alejandro.” The taller one on the left tells you.

“Mine’s Rodolfo, tho y’ can call me Rudy.” The one on the right says moments later.

“Nice to meet you.” You incline your head, avoiding Ghost’s searching gaze, “I take it you’re the ones leading us through this, uh…whatever we’re about to do?”

“Aye.” Alejandro turns and begins walking, everyone else falling in line behind him, “Soap here is infiltrating Las Almas, we are looking for El Sin Nombre. We believe he knows the location of the missiles Hassan has stolen.”

You climb into the back of a truck, consciously avoiding sitting next to Ghost. The drive is tense, the silence only occasionally broken by questions from Alejandro and Soap. The truck comes to a stop, and you all pile out, getting Soap outfitted for his ‘Day in the life of a cartel member’ extravaganza.

“Y/n!” You spin around, seeing Graves walking towards you, “How was your week off?”

“It was good. Did a lot of…thinking.”

“Wonderful.” He says, his eyes already looking past you. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and moves past, going to speak with his Shadows. You sigh internally, moving over to Soap and Ghost.

“How wis yer week off?” Soap asks as a Shadow helps fit his comms. He’s grinning, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark, but you can see the faint lines of fear in his expression.

“It was since. Did a lot of thinking, I guess.” Ghost shifts, a subtle movement you notice out of the corner of your eye. Your face flushes, and you’re grateful it’s dark out so he can’t see.

“Let's roll!” Alejandro calls. Soap nods, and you follow him and Ghost back to the truck. This drive is tense for a whole other reason, everyone thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

You get to the compound, and take your spot on a ridge with Ghost. No words are exchanged, but you know him well enough by now to tell he is worried about you. If Soap’s life, and the lives of millions of Americans, weren’t at risk, you would be grateful for this mission delaying the inevitable conversation you have to have.

You both get into position, sniper rifles trained on the building. You wince as Soap is manhandled, a deep pit of fear in your stomach once he disappears from your view.

Now all that's left is to sit and wait.

He emerges victorious, much to yours and Ghost’s relief. He brings with him El Sin Nombre, who apparently is actually a woman, and an old friend of Alejandros. You could see yourself liking her, if she hadn’t sold missiles to terrorists.

She is feisty, smart, and cunning. She keeps her mouth shut, refusing to volunteer the location of the 2nd missile, instead goading Alejandro into a frenzy. You watch, eyes narrowed in distaste, as Graves tries to make a deal with her. Not for the first time, you judge his ability to make decisions.

But she does give you all the missile location. In what feels like a matter of moments, you find yourself on a boat, heading through stormy waves towards an oil rig off the Gulf of Mexico. Grave’s Shadows launch an attack, only for Ghost to find that the missile not only has entered pre-launch phase, but wasn’t even on the oil rig to begin with. Instead, you find it on the deck of a ship, primed and ready to fire. You, Graves, Soap, and Ghost file onto the cargo ship, where you find that there is no way to disarm the missile.

Your heart sinks, until Shepard has the great idea to turn the missile on the oil rig. Alejadro and the Shadow Company clear out, and Soap hacks in and resets the missile's trajectory. The burning ball of flame is a beautiful sight to see, in your opinion.

“Gold Eagle Actual, Shadow-1. Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed.” Graves crows, a grin lighting up his face. He grasps Soaps shoulder, and you watch him mouth a quiet Good work, his voice too quiet to hear over the noise of the shadows and everyone celebrating.

Without thinking, you press a kiss to Ghost’s masked cheek, the euphoria of victory clouding your senses. Soap steps in to give Ghost a moment to recover, and gives you a side hug, slapping you on the back a little too hard for your liking. You don’t notice Graves eyes on you, narrowing with your every action.

The ride back is still tense, the tension between you and Ghost so thick you can almost taste it. Luckily Soap either can’t sense it, or just is just ignoring it, the Scotsman happily chattering away as the sinking feeling in your heart grows and grows.

The crisis is over, and once you get back you won’t be able to put off your conversation with Graves any longer.

It’s still raining when you get back to the Los Vaquero’s base. The truck comes to a stop outside the gates, and you slide out of the truck after Ghost, confused and a bit wary.

“What’s this?” You hear Alejadro’s voice from the other side of the truck.

“This is the immediate future.” You stop short, Grave’s voice making your blood run cold, “Step away from the gate.” No. There is no way.

“You’re outta line Graves.” You blink, hard, realizing you had zoned out for a moment. You force your feet to move again, rounding the truck, stiffening as a barrel is pressed into your spine.

“Hey!” Grave’s voice echoes in your ears, “Let her go. She’s with us.” You inhale sharply, looking up at him in shock. Soap looks at you in betrayal, taking half a step towards you before the Shadows are on him as well.

“Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here.” Graves says, eyes narrowed.

“Are you threatening us?” You can hear the betrayal in his voice as well, though he does his best to hide it. You want to look at him, try and communicate that you have no part in this, but your mind is still reeling, and you’re unable to draw your wide eyes away from Grave’s face.

“Soldier, I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So, let's not do this.” The animosity in Graves' voice surprises you.

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap turns, hand reaching for his radio.

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Graves' grin is predatory, and you have no doubt he’s enjoying this, “He told me you wouldn’t take this well.”

“He knows about this?” Ghost’s eyes are dark, his body tense and ready to spring.

“He's put me in command of this operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this.” You watch Graves still, eyes trained on his face, your brain numb with shock. Shock and…disgust.

“And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of a negotiation?” Graves continues, “It's not. I've got my orders and now you have yours.”

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!”

“I'm afraid not.” Graves pauses, meeting your eyes with a disgusting grin, “Your men have been... detained.”

“Cabron!” For the first time, you manage to tear your eyes away from Graves, your gaze falling on Alejandro as he launches himself towards your boyfriend only to be beaten down and restrained by his Shadows.

“Graves, what th’ fuck?” Your eyes dart to Soap as he lunges at the Shadow next to him, holding him hostage. You let out a small cry as Graves and his men open fire. You duck behind the truck, watching as Ghost elbows the Shadow behind him before stabbing another one in the neck, quickly ripping the blade back out and hurling it at another Shadow before disappearing into the dark.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you watch Graves slam the butt of his gun into Alejandro’s head, dropping him. You stare at Graves in shock, unable to move as your mind tries to process what's happening.

Soap yells in pain, snapping you from your reverie as you spin to look at him. He’s on the ground, the Shadow he had taken laying dead on top of him.

“Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Ghost yells from somewhere behind you “Soap, Go!” You watch as Soap heaves himself up and throws himself over the barrier, disappearing from your view. You slide down the truck, sinking to the ground as your legs give out, your entire body shaking.

Graves' actions start to sink in, and gods does his betrayal hurt. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, worse than the time you broke your arm, worse than the time you got shot in the thigh, worse than any wound you had ever received. It’s like a physical pain, your heart feeling as though it’s been ripped from your chest. Tears well in your eyes, your fingers digging into your palms in an effort to stop your tears.

You don’t know how long you sit in the rain, but it’s enough time for you to be completely soaked head to toe. You are surrounded by blood and bodies, and your mind reels as you survey the scene. Alejandro is gone, you’re not sure when he was taken away. Soaps rifle is still laying in the street, a very damming pool of blood underneath and around it. With the amount of blood he lost, you're surprised he's not dead. Oh gods he better not be dead.

“Y/n?” Graves' voice breaks the fog in your brain, “Darling? Are you alright? I know this was...a bit of a surprise…but I’m sure you understand.”

“Graves…”

To be continued.

Notes: Sorry for how long this took!!! But it's here now! Hopefully Pt. 3 won't take me another thousand years. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and sorry if this is not the direction you wanted it to go :/ Tags: @redhoodxsupergirl @infpt-zylith @scarletdfox

#cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #no beta we die like men #cod #john soap mactavish #graves x reader #phillip graves #alejandro vargas #haha I finally updated #sorry for how long it took #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare

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