#these books fucking flowed like WATER DOWN A STREAM
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why did i decide to read the bad reviews of tfc.... pls i'll commit hate crimes
#making my head hurt#idk im probably being a major hypocrite by writing this post out but like be so for real#theres a review like 'this book was trying so hard to test my reading comprehension skills' i am very sad#to tell you#that perhaps u do not have reading comp skills u mindless buffoon#these books fucking flowed like WATER DOWN A STREAM#'as a writer myself' boy i sure hope no one is subjected to ur mindless writing#tw vent#im sorry for anyone reading these tags theyre so unbelievably bitchy and catty
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Would you ever do the staff for the bath headcannon ? I love the third years one btw 🥰
It's time babe! I hope you enjoy!
Taking A Bath With Them - GN!Adult Reader/NRC Staff (Crowley, Crewel, Vargas, Trein, Sam)
Rating: T (Lightly suggestive themes)
Tags: Reader's body not described nor are pronouns used, non-sexual domestic intimacy and fluff, elements of body worship, implied body insecurity from reader, established relationship, how do I make myself fall in love with each character I write for guys please explain to me.
Words: 3k
Silly author's notes: Not that I’ve been seeking it out but it feels like I never see anyone trying to put the moves Vargas (like I’m sure you exist, Vargas-fuckers where you at?) so since all of you are so fucking complicated I’m gonna do it! Fluffy domestic garbage for all!
Want more TWST? Here's my masterlist!
Dire Crowley:
‘Never judge a book by its cover, but tattered books don’t get picked off the shelf,’ is probably a quote Crowley heard in passing one time and then immediately tried to contribute to himself. Being the headmaster of a famous and prestigious school involves a lot of hard work, but you can never forget about appearances. Clothes make the man, and if the said man in those clothes doesn’t pull them off, what is even the point of wearing them? It feels like a lecture every time that you and Crowley bathe together, but you can’t say that you necessarily say that you disagree either. If anything, it was a trademark of NRC to be the flashy talented bad boy counterpart to the pure princes of Royal Sword Academy. Public perception seemed to ebb and flow as far as which one was the superior institution, but you would never tire of Crowley’s antics to show up Ambrose and improve NRC’s reputation. You may wonder, does Crowley remove his mask when bathing? And the answer is yes, but it is replaced with a gel pearl mask to ‘get rid of his horrendous eye-bags’ Crowley would say. You would wonder who would even see said eye bags, but you felt like you weren’t going to get a better explanation even if you asked.
Since Crowley loves to travel so much, one of the best parts of any vacation is being dragged to a beautiful outdoor hot spring when the ever-busy Headmaster is relaxed for once. He asks over and over ‘isn’t it beautiful here,' or, ‘are you happy with this,’ or even ‘this was nice of me right’? It’s the smallest hint of insecurity and worries that he will readily give. Crowley wants you to enjoy your time together, but a small part of his heart gnaws at him that maybe he missed something crucial and you were just too kind to say something. That you weren’t having a good time, that you didn’t truly think that he was kind, talented, and magnanimous and was just staying with him out of pity.
He hated himself for those thoughts, he truly didn’t believe that you would think of him so, but the stream of questions ran across the back of his closed eyes like an unending scroll of his deepest fears shaped into written reality. Crowley would then hear you tell him how happy you were, gushing about the bath, the clarity of the night sky, and the lovely locale and he could feel his anxiety washing away just like splashes of water on the surrounding tile floors circle down a drain.
He would pull you to his arms and talk about what he wished for the future, any particularly astounding stories from his past, and he would feel a genuine smile whisper across his lips. Maybe he wasn’t as great as he hoped, maybe he wasn’t as kind or as thoughtful, but you were still here in the soft warmth of his arms in this soothing water… and that was more than enough. Maybe he needed to think a little more in the short term, and all that came to mind was the fluttering heartbeat in his chest as your head leaned on his shoulder and his lips met your soft cheek.
Divus Crewel
Crewel is another one for spa treatments and taking great care of your body. He loves to take you into your bath and spoil you with scrubs, oils, and potions of his own making. He is ready to smooth, perfect and tighten every insecurity you have. More than anything, his favorite pastime is stealing you away for a weekend trip to somewhere beautiful where you both can be pampered.
As the man is also more than a bit into a gorgeous classic car, imagine the most idealized movie setting, the two of you cruising down the coast in a cherry red convertible with fashionable headwear to keep both of your hair behaved while your oversized sunglasses gleam in the sunlight. The word glamor doesn't cover even half of it, but it's a good start.
Expect these trips to be for both business and pleasure: hunting for vintage clothing pieces and fabrics in beautiful locales, scrounging through markets for rare ingredients, and then wasting the rest of the days away at spas, drinking delectable wine and enjoying only the finest foods. You worry that you are too spoiled by him at times, and if you mention this to him, he will just laugh joyfully.
‘If I ruin all other men for you forever, I can’t say I would complain,’ he would joke, smoothing mud from the bath you shared over his shoulders sensually. He already had ruined all other men for you, but you were sure he probably knew that anyway. That was part of what was so lovely between the two of you, there was so much left unsaid, but never unheard.
You got ready in the morning together, passing products back and forth across the double sinks in a routine. You would get your dinners and pass pieces of the best bites back and forth so that you could both enjoy each taste together. Every task felt routine but oh so comfortable. You would try the same products and give your opinions on them, swapping purchases back and forth based on who’s skin might suit it more, whose hair would behave better with each ingredient, and so on.
Students at NRC would try to distract Crewel during class by asking him when he was going to marry you, and most of the time he would throw back some sort of ‘maybe when you get an A on an essay one of these days,' if he was feeling snappy. It was hard to miss the way his eyes would crinkle any time you were mentioned and how his mood would be notably lifted for the rest of class. This isn’t to say that he was any less harsh on his students, but they did see him smile more, so the criticism would be just a bit softer as a result. You would know these days too, as he would pull you into a bath and massage your neck while he laughed heartily at the shenanigans of his classes.
That was another thing you so loved about these quiet bathtimes, getting to see all of the faces and responses that he kept hidden just for you.
You were so lucky.
Happiness.
Ashton Vargas
Your meatheaded darling did mean well, but… he was just one of those people that thought that you could muscle through everything. Unfortunately, he had built enough muscle that he has been proved right so far. While Ashton was quite self-obsessed and would flinch in fear every time he imagined that he lost even a centimeter of calf muscle, he never would give you any grief about how your body looked in the slightest. He was very encouraging and would do everything he could to get you to (healthily) build up your stamina and strength, but there was never a time that he would get frustrated with a failure you had. If you’re a person who cries when they’re frustrated, he will wipe them away. If you are someone who yells or wants to throw things when they’re frustrated, he will give you a ball and let you go ham against a wall until you’re cooled off enough for a hug. Vargas wasn’t always book smart, but he was intuitive to others’ needs in a way that few people are.
Ashton is very enthusiastic about bathing, which is good for you because you get a great view while soaping up. Since he’s such a show-off, Vargas will wait on you hand and foot to get a chance to flex a muscle, flip his thick hair over his shoulder or sparkle his perfect white teeth your way.
He just wants to make sure that you feel just as beautiful as he knows he is. He wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know? You’re special, even when you might not agree with him. There was no arguing with him, if the peak physical specimen of himself thought you were worthy of bodily worship, how could you deny him? Are you saying that he isn’t gorgeous? His big blue eyes will sparkle in dramatic unshed crocodile tears at the thought. Oh? Did you say he is gorgeous? Well, then you are too. Beautiful people know how to spot beautiful things, and the only way you could argue that he was wrong was by saying that he wasn’t beautiful.
His logic made you want to hit your head against a wall, but when a man with the body of a goddamn superhero tells you that he thinks you’re hot it’s pretty hard to disagree with him. If you still try to fight it, prepare for over-the-top compliments while he forcefully tries to make you relax and go along with his praise. We are talking scrubbing behind your ears and saying that you have ‘well-formed lobes’ kind of compliments. You like that he’s complimenting you, but you also don’t know how to respond either.
More than anything, his hugs are to die for. During a bath, after a bath, once you are both snuggled in bed and comfortable? Heavenly, all of it.
Vargas loves to talk you to sleep, both of your plans for the next day, going over when and where you are taking your next vacation, and giving suggestions for what muscle groups he thinks would most benefit you to build. Hell if you tell him that makes you uncomfortable or you aren’t able to follow through, he will immediately change his plans and make variations to be kinder to your back, your knees, neck, ankles, etc. Never underestimate a man who knows anatomy better than geography. This goes double when you grab a map and realize that one trip that he told you was a 'two-hour drive’ from Night Raven was actually a fifteen-hour one, even with the help of the mirrors.
Oh well, his confidence was something you loved, no matter how correct he may or may not be.
Mozus Trein:
Trein was almost hilarious with how soft and tender he treated those he cared about versus the strict and stern History teacher exterior that he gave off.
Something that drew you to him was seeing how tenderly he cared for his daughters. All three of them had all flown the nest at this point, but seeing him smile softly while he penned them letters as he scratches Lucius’ chin and murmured conversation to the cat was something that made your heart melt.
You had been brushing up on your animal languages to better talk to Lucius too, and you could make out the gist of what he says now. As you suspected, he is not the most polite to others, but he is relatively quick to befriend those that bother to talk to him and offer treats that he likes. Due to these habits, you get along quite well. You try to ask for secrets about Mozus, but Lucius won’t always answer. The only consistency you can make out is that it seems like the cat will only answer you when he thinks it’s funny, but his sense of humor can be a bit difficult to work out.
Trein is not one for much intimacy, he is more one to enjoy mutually comfortable silences. He has had a lot of time to work out every habit and isn’t overly open to doing things outside of them, but a soak with bath salts or some other kind of medicinal mixture suits him quite well. Trein humors your wants and needs and is more than willing to go along with any ‘couples’ treatments you might be interested in within reason.
Surprisingly, he is open to doing things like acupuncture, fire cupping, and various types of experimental medicines, but if you ask him to get a facial his eyebrow will be stuck in a skeptical arch for the entirety of the experience. You were able to snap a picture of him making this face while wearing a green clay mask with cucumbers over his eyes. You treasure the photo, but you will never show it to him as you know he will be horrified at how undignified he looks. Part of his charm, you think.
Overall the greatest treat of all is seeing the relaxed smile that creeps onto his features when he is truly relaxing. It felt like something special just for you, sneaking a sleepy peek at him in the evening: relaxing in a silken robe, reading a novel, glasses perched on his strong nose, sipping at chamomile tea, and wearing the softest smile. It made your chest feel so warm that you got to see these small and simple moments. Everyday moments were the most special, you thought. Perhaps this simple comfort is what happiness truly is.
He will see you staring at him, invite you over for a chat and then wrap his arm around you and bring you to bed. He tucks you in tightly, much like one would do a child. His eyes soften when he does it, you suppose there must be a lot of pleasant memories attached to the action. Once he is satisfied with the bedding, he climbs in next to you, giving you a pleasant peck on the forehead before turning off the light. You hear the pitter-patter of little fluffy feet walking in a circle, a huff, and then a perfectly elegant flop and a warmth near your right foot. You sleep soundly, waking up every so often to feel a hand fixing the blanket that you repeatedly kept throwing off of your shoulder and another kiss on your temple as soon as it was finished.
Happiness.
Sam
As the youngest and least academically-focused staff member, Sam seemed always eager to prove himself. This was especially funny to you, considering how his ‘friends’ gave him such a leg up in almost every situation that you wondered why he ever felt less-than.
Sam had worked his salesman voice to near perfection, had an in with almost every vendor of note, came from a famously powerful family, was strikingly handsome, stylish, and had a killer smile…
Okay, you were wandering off topic here, but how could you help it?
His magenta eyes would flick to yours in passing and you found yourself not being able to think of everything but him. You wanted to joke that his signature spell was how he took your breath away, but that one was all him. You weren’t even sure if he knew how breathtaking he was, moving through each room like a tap dancer one Maxi Ford away from a full routine.
The theatricality that he brought to everything he did made you feel similar anticipation to being in a theater, hoping and praying that the handsome lead actor would look down at you specifically during a pivotal scene. For the sake of your heart, you were glad that somehow you had succeeded in catching his gaze the same way he had yours.
When it came to bathing, he enjoyed it. As the local ‘literally-everything’ supplier, he always had something to surprise you with if you wanted a fun gimmick in the bath, but he had his own perfect set of potions to maintain his stylishly dyed hues. You weren’t entirely sure if his particular swirl of hair colors was natural or magicked into place, and the few times you thought to ask Sam, he would just put one finger in a ‘shush’ motion over his mouth with and wink. It was hard to deny that his cheeky mysteriousness wasn’t appealing though.
If Sam was having a particularly good time, he might try to entice you in a cute little deal or ‘give you an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse’.
It was a relatively silly game because the cost for all of these handshake deals was always ‘a kiss’ which you would gladly give him regardless of if he gave you something in return. You liked the goofy smile he would give you after you agreed, so you indulged him regardless. He sometimes would act shy and murmur something about ‘stealing his first kiss’ (he made this joke from your second kiss onwards) but would quickly give up the ghost to cover your face in playful smooches and thread his hands at the nape of your neck so you couldn't move away from his lovesick gaze.
You’ve seen no true gentleman before in your life if you haven’t seen Sam at a proper ballroom soiree. Letting his relaxed slouch straighten into an elegant straight back and properly dressed to the nines, it seemed like he belonged under a spotlight. Sam was an amazing dancer, singer, card player, gambler, smooth talker, and pianist. He seemed to be accomplished in yet another hobby each time an acquaintance of his would say hello and jokingly admonish him for not showing off some hereto unknown skill of his. He would take the friendly jabs well, say ‘perhaps another time’, and then introduce his ‘charming companion’ (you) to them all in turn. Saying each word as fresh and new as the first time, though the words were practically a script for him at this point.
The ultimate renaissance man, truly.
Once you both were exhausted and came back to your home, you would bask in each other’s company. His voice raspy from overuse of the night, he whispered his thanks to you for accompanying him. You interrupt his soon-to-be soliloquy to say, ‘how could I possibly refuse an invitation from the most beautiful man I know?’. His eyes would crinkle with laughter from your response and he would pull you close, exhaling into your hair while the exhaustion of the night hits him like a well-anticipated crescendo.
Sam idly thought that out of the two of you, the power you held over him was far stronger than any spell he knew.
It was this time of night that you thought he looked his youngest, chortles losing all of their rehearsed and powerful baritones, words spilling out messily, sentences punctuated with ‘ah’s and ‘um’s.
Sleepy magenta met your eyes and you would decide to finally drag Sam off to bed, tucking him under your fluffy comforter with care. He fell asleep on a dime, and when he was sleeping you felt like you could see the angelic face he must have had as a child.
You couldn’t wait to see what you both did together tomorrow. Maybe you’d even tell him that you loved him.
You weren’t going to be able to stop yourself from blurting it out sooner or later anyway.
So who was your fav? Dying to know. I ran away from the bath theme a bit but it was all from a place of love, I promise. Have I convinced you to simp for someone new? Let me know!
Love you, reader! 💋
Requested tags: @stygianoir (hope you liked it!) @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @buckketboy, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @prince-zukohere, @fragmentedstarlight, @sarahyumiko2, @sappyisyourpappy, @rebel-faes-writing, @witch-waycult, @dari-kun, @riddle-simp, @naniky, @the-mermaid-of-the-stars
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst reader insert#disney twst#twst#dire crowley#dire crowley x reader#crowley x reader#crowley twisted wonderland#divus crewel#crewel x reader#twst crewel#professor crewel#divius crewel x reader#mozus trein#professor trein#twisted wonderland trein#trein x reader#twst crowley#twst trein#twst vargas#twst wonderland#twst sam#twisted wonderland sam#twst staff#twisted wonderland fanfiction#reader insert#ashton vargas#vargas x reader
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Chapter 13 - Revelations
As Y/N grows closer to Lucifer, he reveals what the hands of fate have in store.
(1.6k)
The heavy rain pounds against the colorful windows, the peaceful sound fills the otherwise silent room, occasionally interrupted by the deafening clap of thunder. The droplets of water race down the colorful depictions of the fall and rise of Lucifer, displayed in the stained glass windows, giving it an almost theatrical effect.
I stare out one of the few clear panes of glass, cozied in a comfy chair I had dragged into place. The view of the towering pine trees outside is distorted by the downpour and thick fog looming around. The sun is nowhere to be seen, the world only illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning.
Sighing, I turn my attention back to the task at hand, rereading my favorite cheesy romance novel for the 14th time, never growing tired of it. I lose myself in the story of a girl from the city running into a creature of the night. She starts out frightened of the vampire, scared of what she’s capable of, but learns to see through her tough shell and love the woman beneath the fangs and mystery. I hum quietly, chewing on a strand of hair as I meticulously scan every word on the page, despite having them memorized already.
“I’m so booored,” Lucifer whines, stepping out of the shadows and leaning over the tall satin chair I reside in.
“And what would you like me to do about that?” I keep my eyes fixed on the book, not sparing him even a passing glance, but I can still feel him pouting behind me.
“Let’s go do something,” he suggests, leaning down to wrap his arms around my chest.
“Like what?” I gaze at him from the corner of my eye.
He gestures out the window, wordlessly planting the idea of going outside.
“It’s raining Luce.” I put my book down to look at him, giving him the attention he so badly craves.
“You say that like it's a problem.” He grins, holding me even tighter.
Without a moment to think, the world spins once again and I find myself in a completely different location. I grab onto his arms to hold myself up, my knees ready to buckle under my weight at any second. I keep my eyes scrunched closed until the dizziness wears off and the world feels stable.
“You have to stop doing that!” I growl, shoving him with annoyance, but he doesn’t even budge. Fully preparing myself for the torrential downpour of rain, I instinctively fold my wings over my head to provide what little shelter I can, but nothing comes.
He rolls his eyes, then looks at me eagerly like he’s waiting for my reaction.
The sound of birds chirping draws my attention and I lower my wings to take in my surroundings. I find myself in a stunning garden that goes on as far as the eye can see, unlike anything I've ever experienced. The world is painted vibrant shades of greens, blues and pinks, the color so intense that it feels like I'm looking through an enhanced filter. The sky, a pale blue with dozens of fluffy clouds and a shining rainbow.
The grass is perfectly manicured with little drops of dew from the rain clinging to each blade. Little bee’s buzz in harmony, hard at work pollinating each wildflower sprung from the ground.
A little stream runs down the hills, twisting and winding for miles. The water is so clear that you can see each tumbled rock fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The sound of water rapidly flowing fills the air and perched on mossy rocks along the bank are little green and brown frogs, lounging without a care in the world.
Hundreds of cherry blossoms fill the orchard in full bloom, the fragrant aroma taking over my senses. But in the middle of it all is one tree that looms taller than the rest. It's old, dating back at least a century. The branches twist and turn, similar to the body of a snake. And hanging from the lowest branch is one bright, shiny red apple.
“Where the fuck am I?” I ask, feeling a sense of confusion and wonder.
“It’s a garden I made for you.”
I slowly spin on my heels, admiring the beauty around me. He’s thoughtfully selected all of my favorite flowers, each one bringing back a distinct, pleasant memory. It takes my breath away.
He nervously rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Maybe it’s a bit mu-”
“No!” I interrupt him, “It’s beautiful.” I smile.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, his doubt melting away in a matter of seconds, replaced by pride. His wings perk up and a satisfied grin tugs at his lips. “Come,” he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers and pulling me along.
The soft grass squishes beneath my boots as I follow close behind, a soft breeze flows through my hair.
He stops us at the apple tree that stands next to the creek, and sitting in its shade is a checkered red blanket, and a woven picnic basket. It’s like a scene out of a fairy tale.
“A picnic?” I raise my brow skeptically. I never imagined Lucifer to be the picnicking type.
He sits down on the blanket and pats it twice, gesturing for me to sit by his side.
I perch down next to him, tucking my wings behind my back and our knees touch ever so slightly. Just that one innocent little touch feels so intimate.
He pulls out two fancy crystal glasses, dipping them into the creek by our side and filling them with the clear water.
“Creek water? I think I'll pass,” I scoff.
He looks at me amused, like he knows something I don’t. With a snap of his fingers, the water turns into a rich amber color I could recognise anywhere. He hands me the glass with a pleased smirk.
“Cool party trick.” I admire the glass in amazement. “Taking notes from The Bible, are we?” I tease.
“Please,” he scoffs. “That dickwad learned it from me.”
I chuckle at the thought. I take a sip and my eyes light up as the familiar taste of Jack Daniels Whiskey burns my throat. “Mmm… You remembered,” I smile.
“I always do.” He wraps his wing around my shoulders.
“Lucifer?” I ask, nervously toying with his mesmerizing flight feathers.
“Hm?”
“Why am I here? I mean, why me? What makes me so special?” I scooch closer, patiently waiting for his answer.
“Because.” He effortlessly pulls me into his lap, wrapping his broad arms around me, “You’re my soulmate.”
“What?” My eyes widen and snap up to meet his.
“You were made for me Y/N,” he coos, holding my chin in his hand. His eyes lovingly gaze into mine. “A gift from my dad, a little peace offering of sorts.”
“That’s not possible…” I shake my head, unable to process the information being thrown at me. My hands shake, a myriad of thoughts and emotions bouncing around my brain.
“You feel the connection between us, the force that pulls us together, even when we're apart. The way our lives have always led to this moment.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek.
I sit in silence, stunned.
“You know it to be true,” he whispers in my ear.
“I don’t understand,” I murmur.
“Why do you think you dream of me every night? We’re bonded together, our fates intertwined for the rest of time.” He caresses my cheek ever so slightly.
“Luce…” my voice quivers.
“You feel that?” He asks, pulling me into his chest and I can feel the buzz of electricity stronger than ever.
“There’s a reason I shared my grace with you,” his cold tingly grace intertwines with mine that burns hot, creating a pleasant mix of sensations.
I stare up at him, too shocked to even blink. I’m finally getting the answers I so desperately craved, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
“Human lives are so fleeting and the thought of being without you ever again kills me,” his voice breaks, emotions getting the best of him.
“We’re destined to be together,” he pauses, “forever.”
The words play over in my head countless times, struggling to form some kind of response.
Images of my time with Dean flash across my mind, the way he held me when I needed him the most, the nights he slept by my side and held me dear, and the yearning I feel whenever I think of him. I can’t stop the feeling of guilt that burns in my stomach, like I’m betraying him, despite never even discussing any sort of relationship. I have feelings for Dean, that I'm certain of. But I can’t deny the chemistry I feel with Lucifer, the way every moment together feels so natural.
“This is a lot to take in Luce.” I rest my head against his shoulder, feeling conflicted and overwhelmed.
“I know love.” He places a kiss on the top of my head. “Take your time, we have an eternity awaiting us.”
I nod my head and take a long swig of whiskey until the glass is nearly empty. The alcohol always did help me think. We sit in comfortable silence for what must’ve been hours. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the birds chirping and water flowing, my breathing becoming steadier. The warmth of the sun shines on my face, lulling me into a sense of relaxation. I mindlessly curl up in his lap and snuggle into his chest as the peaceful hands of sleep pull me close. The last thing I can remember is the feeling of his large silky wings wrapping around us providing me a sense of safety. And just like that, I drift off into peaceful dreams.
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Tags: @roseblue373
#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester#lucifer supernatural#lucifer x reader supernatural#lucifer#lucifer x reader#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural reader insert#reader inse#supernatural#slow burn#love triangle
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Three Times Tubbo Was Saved From Overworking
Summary: A compilation of times when Tubbo is comforted by others after trying to take on too much responsibility.
[DSMP S1] Switch!Tubbo, Ler!Tommy, Ler!Quackity, Lee!Ranboo
Word Count: 2.6k
Note: Tubbo and Ranboo’s relationship is written as being ambiguously platonic/romantic in this fic. I do not ship the creators.
First fic of 2023 and it’s good to be back! :3
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“Tubbo? Hello?” Tommy called, snapping his fingers.
Tubbo’s heart skipped a beat at the startle. His vision unclouded as he turned to look at his friend. “Er, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“You keep spacing out, Tubs! I was telling you about my idea to expand L’Manberg’s borders south, but are you okay?”
The president hummed in response and tapped his nails against the lacquered wood of his desk. “Yeah, sorry. I think I’m just stressed, is all. A bit overwhelmed, you know, with the new job. I’m fine, though, really.”
Tommy, who was seated in one of the two paisley-adorned chairs across the desk, frowned at him. “Right. I just… fuck, man, I feel like I haven’t seen you do anything fun in ages.” He stood. “Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air or some shit? At least we’ll be out of this stuffy office.”
Tubbo looked out the stained glass window. It was a beautiful day outside; the sun was illuminating the land and creating a kaleidoscope of light inside the room. He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
The pair left the legislative building, and Tubbo’s face lit up as soon as he passed those doors. He inhaled. He was happy to smell freshly cut grass and traces of honeysuckle in the wind, rather than the dust of the books on his shelves.
“Nice, isn’t it? Better than staying in that fucking office all day?” Tommy asked.
“Definitely.”
They walked over to a nearby ravine, stopping to pick flowers and admire interesting critters along the way. They found a shady patch, covered by the foliage of a tall, leafy tree. They sat down and watched the calm flow of the stream, how the water created ripples that illuminated the gleaming rocks below. They talked about mundane things, laughing joyfully the whole while. However, to Tommy’s dismay, Tubbo had heard a chime and pulled his telecommunicator out from his breast pocket.
“Tubs?”
“Sorry, just a message from Niki,” he explained, quickly tapping away on its tiny chromed keyboard, “She wants to know what I think about some building plans.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man, I took you here to avoid work!” He reached over and grabbed the object from him.
“What the fuck? Tommy!” Tubbo complained, reaching for it as the taller boy held it high above his head.
“No way!” Tommy laughed.
Tubbo shook his head, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance while an amused smile played upon his lips. “Alright, you asked for it!”
He squeezed Tommy’s side, and the blond dropped the device to cover his torso.
“Ah! What the hell?”
“You wouldn’t give it back!”
“You were being boring!”
Out of the blue, Tubbo found himself laying on his back against the damp grass, with Tommy grinning on top of him. Damn it, the boy had sure pounced quickly.
“Tom? TOHOHOMMY!” Tubbo cackled, as Tommy began quickly kneading his fingers into his belly. He attempted to grab Tommy’s hands, but this was only used against him. Tommy snatched up his wrists with one hand and held them above the brunet’s head, still prodding along his torso with his free fingers.
“Revenge, bitch!” He shouted in triumph as he squeezed Tubbo’s hip.
The hybrid’s ears flapped in mirth while blood rushed to his face from his laughter. He kicked out his legs from underneath his friend. “Fohohor whahahat?”
“For being boring!” Tommy felt Tubbo’s knee knock against his own and took that as a cue to start squeezing it, spidering under the kneecap every so often. He grinned when the other squealed at the change in spots.
“Ihihihah- I’ll behehe lehehess bohoring, I’m sohohorry, Ihihi swehear!” He shook his head, though he truly didn’t mind the playful contact. It was nice to laugh, and what was that project he was working on earlier? He couldn’t recall. After days of nonstop work, he welcomed the distraction.
“Yeah? And you’re going to hang out with me and not think about presidential shit? Because you’re a great leader and you need to stop being so hard on yourself?”
“Yeheah! Ihihi- wehehell…”
Tubbo began cackling once again when Tommy started drawing circles into one of his exposed underarms. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt his damp eyelashes brush against the lids.
“Say it, Tubbo! You’re a great leader and you’ll stop being hard on yourself!”
“Ohohokay!” He agreed, and tapped Tommy’s wrist.
Tommy stopped tickling him, and waited for his statement.
Panting through his residual giggles, Tubbo said: “Ihihi… I’m aha goohood leader, and I need to stop being hard on myself.”
Tommy hummed, and a smirk appeared on his face. Not quite, big man. I said ‘great’, not good.” He pinched along Tubbo’s side.
“Ah! WAHAIT! I’m a greheat leadeherah! Tohommy!”
“That’s better. Right you are, Tubs.”
He ruffled Tubbo’s disheveled hair while the boy shot him a glare that was rendered unthreatening by his wide smile. Tommy sat back down on the grass and handed Tubbo back his communicator. “Fuhuck you.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t be mean to me right now. I could easily do that again.”
Tubbo swallowed and felt a flush return to his cheeks when Tommy wiggled his fingers. “No! No, that won’t be necessary.”
Tommy bumped his shoulder with a chuckle. “Good.”
.
Tubbo sighed and pressed his fingers to his temple as he looked over the mess of the kitchen. Something sticky was burning on the stove — that wouldn't be coming off with any amount of scrubbing, Tubbo thought — with wisps of smoke rising from it. Pieces of chopped vegetables fallen from the counter were littering the floor, creating a sad, sparse confetti. A tall pile of dishes was sitting in the sink. In the corner of the space was a bag of half-eaten, discarded burgers: Tubbo's failed prototypes.
The boy had been eager to accept Quackity's offer to be the chef of Las Nevadas's burger restaurant. However, not long after accepting the job, the man had given him a list of demands, one of them being to create a menu featuring a variety of specified exotic ingredients. Tubbo was a decent cook, no doubt about that, but he was far from being a culinary genius. Quackity's requests were ridiculous. How could anyone be expected to come up with a good recipe that combines savory meat with citric chorus fruit?
He sighed. This was impossible! He supposed that he should tell Quackity that he had failed. Maybe he wouldn’t be as upset if Tubbo informed him, before the man had the chance to find out for himself. Tubbo removed his stained apron and draped it over his shoulder. He made the trek over to Quackity’s office. When he reached the chrome door, he gave a quiet tap on it with his knuckles.
“Boss?” Tubbo croaked, wringing his hands together.
“Come in!” Quackity called.
The goat hybrid opened the door. His hooves clicked across the tile as he shuffled into the room. Quackity stared at him from his plush, ornate rolling chair, with his feet up on his lacquered desk. His eyebrows raised in concern as his eyes trailed over Tubbo’s messy state. The boy had grease stains on his clothes, mustard in his hair, and bloodshot, tired eyes.
“Um, I’m really sorry.” His voice wavered as he spoke. “The ingredients you wanted me to include, I can’t come up with any recipes. I’ve been trying all day and the kitchen’s kind of a mess now, and there’s stuff burned onto the stove, but I tried really hard and-“
“Tubbo!” Quackity shook his head. “Fuck, listen to yourself! Listen! You need to take a break.”
Tubbo nodded and swallowed when he noticed that his throat was parched. When was the last time he had stopped to drink water? There was a slight throbbing around his temples, and were those tears beginning to form in his eyes? He really did need to stop working for a little while.
“Okay, yeah. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to let you down, Big Q.”
Quackity stood, walked over and placed a compassionate hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, looking into the other’s goat-like eyes. “Hey, it’s fine, Tubbo. It’s fine. I know that I asked a lot of you, but only because I know that you can handle it. You’re the best fucking chef in town!” The man smiled and scratched behind Tubbo’s floppy ear playfully, which caused him to form a dopey smile of his own. “If anyone could make a good recipe, it’s you. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s a difficult task.”
Tubbo looked at the floor and fidgeted with his hands. He hadn’t expected Quackity to be so calm, to be so nice to him. “Thank you, Quackity.”
He gazed out the window at the sun that was beginning to descend just behind the Space Needle. The warm orange glow being cast across the city indicated to him that night was beginning to fall. “Well, it’s getting late and I know that I promised I would get this done today,” Tubbo explained, “I should really be getting back to work.”
Quackity gave him an almost pleading look. “What did I just say? You need to take a break. I don’t expect you to get this all done today, especially with how hard it is. I can’t have my best worker burning himself out, can I?” He pulled Tubbo in for a hug, although he kept his posture stiff as if showing this affection would ruin his reputation as a stoic businessman. “Listen, man, you’re doing great. Just take the night off and relax.” He ran his knuckles lightly along Tubbo’s spine, and tension released from the boy’s shoulders.
“But… I know I should, and thank you, but the kitchen is still a mess and it will be much worse to deal with in the morning if I leave it overnight,” Tubbo protested.
The president raised an eyebrow and released Tubbo from the hug, keeping his hand on the boy’s back. “Don’t worry about that! Las Nevadas hires people to clean all of the buildings when they’re closed.” He paused. “Have you been doing it all yourself?”
Tubbo nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Quackity shook his head with a slight, amused laugh and wiggled his nails against Tubbo’s shoulder blades. The hybrid couldn’t help but let out a stream of soft giggles. His ear flicked in embarrassment.
Quackity chuckled. “You’ve been doing all that work for nothing! I pay you for your cooking skills, not for cleaning.”
“Oh.”
“Go home and get some rest. If there’s anything on the list I gave you that just won’t work, we’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay?”
Tubbo nodded. “Okay. Thanks, boss.”
“No problem. Now get out of here,” Quackity joked, and squeezed Tubbo’s side. He barked out a startled yelp before leaving the office, with reddened cheeks and a contented smile.
.
Tubbo felt Ranboo shiver and pulled them closer. He knew that their silky fur did nothing to keep out the cold. If anything, it only trapped in the frigid humidity of the room and made Ranboo's skin prickle into goosebumps. Tubbo could tell. He felt the thin hairs along their forearms raising and pushing up against his own skin.
"You cold?"
They nodded.
The goat hybrid looked away. “I’m sorry.”
Ranboo looked away from the fireplace to lock eyes with his husband. “Why?” he asked, frowning.
“For asking you to help me shovel. I forgot that the snow burns you. I could have handled it myself.”
Ranboo gently cupped his face. “Don’t be sorry. We could have been snowed in, so the quicker we got that cleared, the better. It’s only a little bit stingy. At least it’s not rain.”
Tubbo nodded. He wrapped his arms around his spouse. "Better? Not cold?"
Ranboo nodded before he affectionately knocked his bicoloured horns against Tubbo's.
The goat hybrid gave him a warm, albeit hesitant smile. "Good," he replied simply.
He started to soothingly rub his hands up and down Ranboo's torso, hoping that the friction would provide them with additional warmth. Tubbo felt them exhale before he felt a soft rumbling against his side. Ranboo had started to purr. They had allowed themselves to slump into him, and he saw the tension release from their eyes. Tubbo relaxed into the comfortable weight. He pushed his face into Ranboo's shoulder with a contented sigh. Their clothes smelled faintly of pine, Tubbo noticed.
"Are you cold anymore?" he mumbled into the soft fabric of Ranboo's sweater.
"No. Thank you," Ranboo said shakily.
He firmly placed a clawed hand on top of one of his husband's, which was currently resting on Ranboo's side. Tubbo froze and looked down. His fingertips were just barely poised against the other's sides. He figured his pressure must have lightened as he became distracted.
Ranboo tipped their chin downward and rested it against the brunet's fluffy hair. "Sorry. You know I'm ticklish there."
Tubbo breathed out a short chuckle. He took Ranboo’s hand in his. "Don't apologize."
He slipped his free hand underneath Ranboo's bundles of clothing and lazily rubbed their belly. His blunt nails raked along their skin as he did so, and Tubbo felt their abdomen quiver underneath his palm.
"Beehee," Ranboo exhaled, and Tubbo could feel the giggles bubbling in their chest.
"Yes, my beloved?" he responded, with a tiny smirk.
“Whahat are you dohohing?”
“Warming you up,” he replied with a smirk.
"Yohou're mahaking it tickle on puhurpose now."
"Oh, am I?" Tubbo crooned. He nuzzled his head into his spouse's neck, and his eyes lit up at the small squeak that they emitted. "But you're not really trying to stop me, are you?"
The half-ender rolled his eyes and groaned softly. His fangs briefly flashed as he gave the other a bemused grin, tittering all the while.
Tubbo headbutted their shoulder. "I thought as much."
He unlaced his fingers from his spouse’s and traced along the squishy pad of Ranboo’s palm. His eyes lit up in adoration as they pushed their face into the back of his neck with a giggly whine.
“That feel nice?” Tubbo asked, with a quick scribble of his nails along Ranboo’s lower belly.
He heard a surprised, high-pitched laugh next to his ear, then felt them nod.
“I’m glad. I… I hope this at least somewhat makes up for making you go out in the cold.”
Ranboo rested their hand on Tubbo’s wrist and lifted their head. Tubbo paused and gazed up at him, watching the lines of mirth around his eyes fade into an expression of concern.
“I told you not to be sorry. I can survive a little bit of snow, Tubs. You needed my help, so I was there. We take care of our home together, not alone.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Tubbo’s head. “Please, don’t feel bad about this.”
Tubbo blinked away the tears that had started to form in his eyes at the kind words. He swallowed away the tight feeling in his throat. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and rested his head against Ranboo’s chest.
Ranboo rested his chin on Tubbo’s head. “Besides,” he started with a laugh, barely able to keep his composure, “You look like an old man when you shovel! Yohou’d think you’d get the technique right by now! So it’s a good thing that I was there to- HEHEY!”
Tubbo rolled his eyes as he kneaded quickly into their sides. “Care to repeat that, ticklish-boo?”
“Nohoho, but doho yohohou- TUBBOHO!”
The two of them would fall asleep on the sofa that night; tired out from laughing, safe from the cold and warmed by each other’s company.
#dsmp tickle#mcyt tickle#lee!tubbo#switch!tubbo#ler!tommy#ler!quackity#ler!tommyinnit#lee!ranboo#sfw tickle community
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dogfight
you made your bed, now lie in it.
____________________________
characters: nisei, seimei, mimuro, mei, implied mimuro/nisei
warnings: it's loveless whump use your imagination. is that what the kids call it. whump. i don't fucking know non-graphic (?) blood, abuse, physical assault, implied teeth trauma, implied drug and alcohol abuse, implied eating disorders, abandonment, animal death mention, religious imagery
wordcount: 692 words
other: this is like pseudo poetry psuedo stream of consciousness with some ambiguous perspective shifts, capitalization is intentional, idk i haven't written fic or really prose in years i hope this came out okay. smiles.
he took two teeth like communion, like pills he's taken before
(it's not so difficult to pill a dog if you wrap it in something sweet)
god watching from behind, from above
i don't know what's going on
an honest start
but i'm not afraid of you
the lies never stopped, though
and you glance back at master
(there's nothing you could do, even if you wanted to, and you don't.)
before you bolt ahead and your bodies collide
for the first time
was he always this light?
it's a little late to be asking that when you're on your back, on the ground.
it's raining and it's getting in your mouth and he tastes just like you always thought he would; the same as you
and you know that because you can taste yourself too as the dog bites down and can't let go
it's for your safety, can you tell yourself that?
is that what the dog thinks?
but you can keep your teeth, and you will, you think, reaching up and tucking his hair behind his ear, like a child into bed
i'm sorry
a laugh overtakes the start of a sob, because you can't learn new tricks, you don't know those words; you were not taught those words.
i cannot understand if you don't sink your teeth in, that's what the collar is for, to protect me from you. it's just play, it doesn't mean anything, i've heard it before, i've heard it before, your barking, your warning
his instincts do not match yours, because you are alone
(there is no bite coming)
you pull back, and wipe him on your mouth as you try to stem the flow of wine that you swallow as well, and sea water parts the rest as you realize he tastes nothing like you always thought he would; the same as you
you're too young to be drinking like this
was he always this pale?
even with all his force, there's barely a weight on top of you, the same as his palor, and you wonder if the sun has followed the moon on nights like these for him; it's hard to tell what time it is when you're sitting in the dark waiting for a call, spinning out, the only voices you hear itinerant and surrounded by walls you can only traverse in static
God watching from behind, from above
and He's a man you know nothing about
you've never had to worship
you touch his bones as he ascends
not on purpose, but it's a thing you can't help but feel
(you've lost control of the feeling in your arms, gripping for anything to hold onto, you can't let go)
fabric can't hide it anymore, not when you're closer than ever before, there's no lie you can tell yourself when you can finally feel him in your hands
you wonder when the last meal you had with him was
(never)
a sip of tea stolen from your favourite mug, was it so precious?
(back to God)
a blow comes again on His behalf as he retreats
was that fun?
shaking assent.
and for a moment you do believe this is salvation for him.
because someone needs to save him
he's made himself so small
you missed him as he fell through the cracks
it was raining when you came and it's raining when you leave; he took his books and bags and so many small things you don't remember but you miss all the same, and you let him
so it washes away the last traces of him you'll ever see
and you go home and she asks you what happened
and you tell her and she says she never liked that dog
she understands that much, but she still doesn't understand it all
you try to explain to her why they have to put down the dog and she asks why dogs fight, and you say because they were bred like this and she asks why and you say because someone wanted a dog that fights and then they didn't.
#mine#loveless#if this is cringe please tell me so i can rip it down and burst into tears in shame thank you. smiles.#anyway i think they can work it out and live happily ever after. ^_^ <- clearly out of his fucking mind#it's not graphic it has like the illusion of. uh. graphicness. i think.#i don't know i have no idea how my writing reads. lol#if you catch any errors please tell me and also kill me thank you ^_^#i did not proofread this shit thoroughly tbqh.
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KARAOKE HEADCANONS!!!
Hi I just finished up a karaoke night with my cousins and we were BOPPING and I thought of this so here we go!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Aegon
What a party dude
The one who books the karaoke room
Brings all the beer he can
You know what? He brings all the beverages
Starts off the night by singing first
Fucking rocks it out
Absolute hype man
When he's not singing he's drumming on the table
If the room offers little tambourines he's all over that
As he starts getting drunk he goes for old Taylor Swift songs
Gets emotional singing Back To December
He's up out of his seat dancing and head banging to every song
Chooses Baby Shark as a joke but goes HARD
Aemond
He's there to be the designated driver
Hangs out in the back corner of the room away from the intense noise
Warms up as he drinks
Not much of a solo guy but will sing along with others
Aegon convinces Aemond to do a duet
It's Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne
Aemond is pretty tipsy now
But damn is he having the time of his life
Um he does hard rock ballads really well
Every Rose Has Its Thorn and High Enough take everyone for a spin
As the night goes on he slowly lets his hair down literally
Helps Helaena in making sure everyone is sobering up at the end
Reminds people how much time they have left in the room
Helaena
Still her soft self
Like Aemond it takes a while to warm up but she's faster at it than Aemond
Ballads are absolutely her thing when she's sober
Once she gets a drink or two in she's hitting those pop punk tunes with Jace
Fucking kills Bring Me To Life by Evanescence
Floors everyone with Love On Top by Beyonce
Favorite ballad to sing is My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion
Kelly Clarkson songs are so perfect for her
Makes sure everyone drinks their water throughout the night
Absolutely cheers everyone on
Joins Aegon with the tambourines
Jace
Slightly not as hype as Aegon but definitely a close second
Starts his night with Bohemian Rhapsody
Gets really picky about the order of songe purely for the flow
He's in charge of the remote controller for the machine
Tries his best to get some good videos of everyone
Live streams part of the night
Messes with the fun lights in the room to create the perfect atmosphere
Air guitar dude
Him and Aegon are the main sources of entertainment
He's a Plain White T's and Train kinda guy when it comes to ballads
Will yell Call Me Maybe
#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd headcanon#modern au#modern!jace#modern!aegon#modern!aemond#modern!helaena
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3/18/2024 Fisheries Oceanography
Right so I dont know whats going on at any given moment in this class and I 100% didn't do the readings.... which is and might be more problematic than I want but alas; me versus scientific journals is a battle i will never win especially if the journal is 33 god forsaken pages. But I digress. does this have a character limit?
Welcome to the shit show! today we are going to go over some larger scale processes (woot woot I still don't understand the smaller scale processes but whatever). First we get to diccus the shit show that was exam 1 (i did get an email that i have the opportunity to improve my grade because I did just that bad..) i swear to god if I'm the only one in person today I'm going to riot. fuck. anyway. week 10... great. exam 2 is the last five week of the semester ew. its going to be the same format as exam 1 *joy joy*. the final is going to be closed book my hope are so high:) lol i had the lower end of the undergrad reage at a whopping 80.7%.... bruh grammar and capitalization is a bitch and apparently you get docked points (which is so fair im just salty). we have to add fcking titals now gross. this is an essay prompt i didn't realize we needed to get all up and fancy with this jesus christ. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE FISH OCE REF STYLE!!! "its pretty standard" - clearly not can you give a spark notes of what the fuck that is. like a break down of thestlye you want/??? SUBSECTIONS?! this was suppost to be a one page single spaces how am i suppost to add subsections?! add quanitative detalis? how when the questions suggest otherwise. *do you know how much this makes me want to die? jesus christ i didnt realize this was going to be so nitpicky of an exam* do we now get to get on with todays material - no not yet we get to diccus the final AH 20% of my grade...
TODAY'S FOCUS - large scale processes, circulation and ocean basins! *oh yay a shorter lecture*
Thermohaline circulation. do we know what this is KINDA. so what it is is a large global scale circulating where surface waters becomes denser than underlying wates and sink creatin vertical circulation in the ocean. this is often wind driven circulation. DEEP open ocean convection tis the cacess by which vigoro's vertical mixing occus down tot great depth in respond to winter time surface buoyancy losses in the sub polar seas, is a significant mechanic of water masses - the densent water are forms at high latitudes ( north Atlantic and southern ocean.) (rip spellcheck) OOO thats a realy nice visual of the thromohailice circulation!!!! we have to get our gruminy hands on that link it would be so helpful ( UCAR- center for science eduction). we also need to get our hand oth figh 8.11 because that would also help be in chem ocn!!
Wind driven circulation - what is is? well dumbass... um. are you familare with the major gyres in N+S patlatnic and Pacific? WELL GUESS WHAT they are driven by global wind whis are dieven by inequalities in the solar enegy flux between the equatior and the poles. * fuck oh joy joy something confusing* ~ in both atl. and pacf. basins sub topic gyers(circulate anti cyclonic ( do you know aht the even means? and clock wise in .. *OH MY GOD I WANST DONE GAH GO BACK fuck it* ) still on the same topics western margins of thes gyer had particualy intence currents ( gulf stream and kuroshi current are sub tropic) Labrador current and oyashio current ( are sub POLAR). did you know that organisms in these can be transported long distances!western boundary currents meander and can cause eddies which are conveniently important feature for entertaining(?) food for consumers *there was a whole text box that she blew threw no wonder i can't keep up in this class*
WOW the major flow of the water in the atlanic is in a clockwise direction. the circulation in the north atlatin is linked to artic circulation and what happens up north.... something something about different something.
The fuck is a jumpdrive? you mean a USB flash drive? please sent help. also let me reiterate - I didn't read todays papers. i am s c r e w e d but whats new. now we get to the prestation on the review paper... which is 33 pages. damn her prestation is so good. ok i dont knwo whats going on. rip my participation points oh well. maybe ill ask about the citation format when we are done and gain something.
Questions to gain participation points: explain the citation system. can we go into depth of anticyclonic vs cyclonic gyres and what that means/impacts?
I didn't realize i would have to write my citations by hand because its a super specific citation system that is a mash of APA and MLA and whatever the fuck else fish ocn peeps deem acceptable.
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Like a Trifling Little Thing ft. Jiu
words ✦ 5565
genres ✧ if The Curse of the Spider weren’t so cursed (maybe a little bit); praise kink; ruined orgasm; trying new positions; rough, exhausting, blindfolded, tied-up breeding; crazy, needy mommy!Jiu
Thanks to @ggidolsmuts, @v1ntrix, @panchatea, and @existslikepristin for your feedback. Happy birthday to Mommy—I meant Mommy—I meant Mommy—I meant...
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Minji had this pillow that wasn’t very unusual. Normal. Rectangular. Soft. There are certainly more sentimental souvenirs scattered throughout the house. Picture books, pottery projects, paintings you made together.
That she doesn’t use the pillow for sleeping wouldn’t even be that notable for most others; everyone has an aunt who’s gifted them a bland throw pillow, never used except as decoration.
A smidgen of specialness still existed in Minji’s pillow, however, when you consider the number of times she masturbated on it. She made the pillowcase wet with various juices: a stream of drool from her lips whenever she edged herself, a profane clear spray whenever she drank a bit too much water but prioritized her climax first, a lewd cream whenever her womb was feeling warm and tingly. The pillow doesn’t just smell like her the way her sweaters, her sheets, her plushies do; it’s absolutely infused with her carnal scent, and you wouldn’t trade it for any other pillow in this world or the next. You washed it thoroughly (after you smelled it thoroughly), but after enough misapplication, the stains became permanent though subtle.
Sure, you could fuck Minji any number of times in a row but she was like one of those small mammals with the big ears that multiplied like crazy—that is, no amount of dicking down could really satisfy the sex rabbit. So she rubbed her needy pussy on every surface, from pillows to doorknobs and the corners of desks, as well as fucked it with every toy and non-toy. You expected to have to wash the cucumbers regardless. The difference is that none of the phallic objects Minji found or bought amounted to your size and warmth and virile payload.
Everywhere else, Minji was truly the loveliest woman on Earth. One might even mistake her for wholly wholesome, and it’s a fair mistake to make if one were to catch you and Minji out on a sweet picnic date in the park, out shopping for more dog toys for Cherry with a buoyant smile, or out making colorful macarons at a bakery.
On this bed, Minji had her adorable moments of playfulness. But with your hands happily tied behind your back by that ruined pillowcase, your eyes happily blindfolded by her used panties, she doesn’t seem so cute. You’re just like her pillow—a tool to use.
“Baby boy,” Minji says cutesily, “Mommy is going to make your cock extra hard with a show. That way you can last longer for Mommy and keep unloading your seed inside my hungry womb until I’m done. Okay?”
Your reply is “mnphgrblh.” While one pair of panties is around your eyes, the other pair is stuffed in your mouth. That one is fresher; you can tell because a couple moments ago, even though you had your eyes blocked, you could hear the slick noises of Minji’s pussy. Plus, the pristine flavor of her nectar is too obvious. Not as if Minji was trying to hide it.
There are a couple flaws in her plan.
First, as Minji was fingerfucking her cunt, her lips were wrapped around your soft dick, and the self-made pleasure turned Minji into her usual drooling disarray; that unending flow of saliva combined with the incipient blissful hum around your erection already solidifies you to a throbbing extent. You’re not certain you can get any harder.
Second, you spit out the panties in your mouth.
“Mommy, I can’t watch you with—”
“Oh, right!” The arrhythmic clicks of a person running in heels when they don’t have that much experience with it. Minji pulls the makeshift blindfold off of you. “I’m sorry, I’m so…”
“No, no, it’s okay.” You want to pat Minji’s head. She’s the mommy in the relationship but sometimes, she can be a bit dim and clumsy—that makes you want to fill her womb even harder. To take care of her. To tell her how good of a mommy she is. Minji is still cute here. But then your words fill Minji’s eyes with a fiery determination and the last layers of sweetness are peeled away.
Minji goes to her phone and plays Something by Girl’s Day. She’s in the right attire for it too. You’re in your birthday suit—well, it’s her birthday suit now given that you don’t even own yourself, let alone your clothes, for her special day. (In fairness, that’s most days.) Meanwhile, both her black long-sleeve top and her long black skirt hug her body’s luscious form too well. A slit in the skirt shows off one of her svelte legs, then your eyes trail down to her tall heels, maybe three or four inches. So that’s what’s making her waist so shapely. Your jaw drops, your breath stolen. Minji is absolutely ecstatic at your desire for her, but again, she refocuses as the music starts, sitting on the floor.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Then, when the song goes “Drop it”, Minji does just that. She’s on her hands and knees, bending her back into a familiar arch. That’s usually how her body writhes in the middle of a doggystyle orgasm—you have the many climaxes of Minji cataloged in your mind from all the times your cock has made her cum. None of the moves of the song stray you away from the dirtiest memories you’ve made with her. Every sway of her hips side to side, each downward bend tracing the length of her leg with her finger, that iconic bounce in the chorus, they all remind you of the diverse intimate activities you've done with Minji.
Minji’s wrung your cum out of your cock with her hands in a movie theater; she’s drained your balls with her lips in a back alley; she’s clenched your shaft with her cunt at a beach. Now that you think back on it, was there any public place you haven’t defiled? There was that bar, the airport, your car, a café—hell, she gave her own parents an innocent smile on Christmas day as if you didn’t just anally creampie her a few minutes ago in their bathroom. She has fucked you in every position her fit and flexible body could manage, used you in every room of your house, yet inexplicably, a simple seductive dance is all it takes to do exactly as Minji foretold. Your best hypothesis is that this performance is distilling all those memories into a mouth-watering event.
Even if you can’t measure it, what feels like a lack of blood flowing in your brain must be going to your erection—with a swing of your dick, you could cut a skyscraper’s steel beams. Your whole body is wound tight. Your head is spinning.
Near the end of the song, as Minji does the chorus choreography one final time, she trips over herself. You get up from the bed immediately, but Minji shakes her head and waves.
“No, no, stay there.” After Minji catches her breath, she’s pouting. "I'm sorry, baby boy. Mommy's not used to heels."
You try your best to let go of the tension in your muscles. "It's okay. You look so sexy anyway, Mommy. You’re always right. That got me so hard.”
She stands up, but her heels snag on the floor yet again, making Minji wobble as she rises.
“Do you need help balancing, Mommy? I could give you somewhere to sit if you'd like."
Sometimes, you can’t tell when Minji is faux mad or mad mad; the same growl that comes out of her mouth either way. “You’re always trying to get Mommy hot and bothered. It’s supposed to be the other way around!”
You gulp.
This is all part of the choreography. Not the dance, but the overall choreography of sex. The foreplay, the tension. You have to make mistakes.
How else would Minji punish you?
That doesn’t stop you from gulping.
Minji pushes you onto the mattress, making you feel fully trapped with your hands behind your back. She takes off her skirt, still keeping on the long-sleeved top.
“You want to get Mommy all wet and needy to cum? Fine then.” Minji starts by straddling on your lap, but she drags her ass up your torso. She weighs down on your chest, knocking a puff of air out of you. “Make me cum with that pesky mouth.”
Your gasping naturally leaves your lips wide open, your tongue out to receive the oxygen it needs.
Minji deems that perfect. She doesn’t need to say it; you can see the mischief on her face. As if you didn’t expect Minji to wrap her thighs around your head and nudge her pussy against your face. Regardless, despite the exhaustion in your breaths, you keep your welcome mouth open and push your tongue against her slick slit as she begins to ride you.
“Mmph! Mmm! Mm!” You’re not a singer, but you know Minji adores the hummed notes against her core. You’re not a dancer, but your tongue’s moves in Minji’s pussy are certainly up to par with her own deftness. While she grinds her crotch into your face, you work your mouth like a vacuum cleaner, sucking up every bit of juice. Her thighs rub against your cheek while her breasts jiggle under the black top.
“Mommy doesn’t care if you can’t breathe. You don’t need to breathe anyway. I know you. You just need to slurp up all of Mommy’s yummy juices.”
Minji’s hands wander from tugging at your hair to groping the muscles in your arms before curiosity gets the better of her: She grasps your cock tight with one hand. With how her digits knead and massage your cock, it’s inevitable that she twists her torso and looks back. Her legs follow in rotation until your only sight is the full extent of the roundness of her ass. If you’re deprived of the impeccable sight of Minji’s face heated with lust, you can find solace in the supple flesh suffocating you.
The manual clasp of your cock never ceases; in fact, now you feel both of her hands stroking, one on the top half of your shaft focused on your cockhead, and one on the bottom half rolling around. If only you can watch her elegant fingers performing their magic, but again, you’ll settle for the blissful sensations.
When you feel Minji shifting around once again, you’re not entirely sure exactly what she’s doing—apart from riding your face and drowning you in nectar—but then the ambiguity diminishes as her familiar hot breath bounces off your dick. To confirm that she’s leaning down in a sixty-nine position, she lifts her ass for a moment, giving you a show of her pouty lips an inch from your cock.
“Fuuck, your cock is twitching like crazy. No, no, I have to, I need to, just, just lemme taste your pre-cum again.”
Not that Minji needed or ever cared about your response. She was going to take a greedy lick of the slight flow of pearly beads from your tip no matter what.
“Should I give it another lick? Ahh.” Minji’s tongue knows you far too well. That she knows the perfect spot, the perfect swiping motion, drives you mad. That she only does it once before she rolls over giggling turns your brain into coarse mush.
You can only stare at her catatonically as Minji bites her fingers.
“Aww, baby. Am I messing with you too much?” Minji sticks out her lower lip in mockery. “How sad.”
Minji sits up and returns to her spot on your thighs. Your house is only a second home for Minji; your lap is her true home with how often she’s on it. However, instead of her usual frantic aligning of your cock toward her cunt, she patiently grinds her pussy lips against your thigh and your shaft. You can’t believe it. When Minji’s hole is this creamy, when she’s worked herself up this much, your dick is inside of her before you can blink and it isn’t outside of her until you’re both asleep. Yet here she is, one deliberate roll of her hips up, dragging herself a glistening trail along your length, then back down.
The particulars of how Minji stimulates you don’t worry you too much. Even without your hands bound, you’re bound anyway by her blazing gaze. While you’re near motionless save for the shuddering sighs, Minji reaches behind herself, and you feel that experimental hand seeking your ballsack underneath. She rolls your balls between your fingers, taps on them, lets her fingernails rake against the skin.
“Ngh. So heavy, so tense, so full,” Minji says. “I can just imagine them twitching around in my mouth while my tongue swirls around the bottom of your beautiful cock.”
By their very nature, your testicles are sensitive, so you can’t help but moan at her grip, just a touch rougher than you can handle.
“Mhm, I feel that. The sack is pulled tight, all that sperm backed up in there. Just begging to shoot out. Begging. Beg. Beg for me.”
“Mommy, please. I need to cum, I need to cum so bad, please Mommy, your pussy lips feel so good on my cock, your hands so good on my balls. Mommy, you’re so perfect and so good at milking all my load, I need it so bad, I’m just a needy little boy for Mommy, please!”
And the choreography continues in words. No practice needed when Minji pulls the raw truth out of you with her constricting warmth, brain optional for the automatic response. As desperate as your voice can get, it can’t possibly be as desperate as your body, every part of you imploring to let you climax. You’re trembling. Opening your eyes is an impossible burden. Your dick is spasming.
Minji scoots up to your stomach, knocking some wind out of you, from her weight and from the sudden revocation of her touch.
“Ha. Too bad,” Minji says. The only consolation you get is the coarse sensation of her fingernails scraping from your tense chest to the edge of your jaw, and you want to say something, anything because you just need her touch and you’re so sorry but you need to—slap!
You’re cumming and while you know exactly when that started to happen, you’re not sure when (or if) that’ll ever end. All over her asscheeks and her back, you spurt pathetically. Despite the lack of any actual physical stimulation, your fresh load keeps shooting, your cock throbbing on its own.
Scooting back down to your thighs, she cleans up the seed from your crotch, from her sticky back with her hands.
Minji’s hearty laugh unnerves you, especially when it becomes a frown.
“Tsk. Wasting this precious semen when it could’ve been going in my womb. Just because you creamed my pussy yesterday doesn’t mean you get a break, mister.”
Minji licks up all the semen from her hands, looking more like a little pet than your mommy.
“You always give me the biggest loads when you know your delicious cum is going straight into my cervix. Maybe you can turn my torso into a canvas, or maybe you can feed me enough yummy seed to quench my thirst for a week, but none of that is ever going to compare to a beautiful creampie.”
Already, her words retrieve some hardness from your cock again. Minji does the cutest little clap when she notices.
“Are you sensitive, baby boy? Should we just stop this and go to sleep?”
You don’t hesitate. “No, Mommy. I want to feel your soaking wet pussy embrace my dick.”
“Really?” Minji strokes your cheek.
Nod.
“Okay. If you say. Mommy will be really careful with your cock,” she says but she can’t even hold back the dumb smile on her face in the middle of her sentence.
You’re about to be ruined.
Perfect.
“I saw this position that I had to try out.” Minji turns around. You wish you could knead her buttcheeks, but your hands are yet restricted behind your back. You could even do nothing but stare at her ass all day long; however, Minji springs into action, pulling your right knee up to bend your leg. “See, I really like grinding on your thigh. B-but, I neeeed your cock inside of me too, and I saw this position and it was just perfect!”
“Is there anything I have to do, Mommy?”
“Just stay right there and let Mommy do the work.”
Minji straddles your raised leg with a thigh on either side. Again, she’s grinding against your thigh, but this time, your cockhead threatens to penetrate her. She’s holding onto your knee for support as she starts to rock up and down, pressing her vulva against your upper thigh. With each up and down, she dips lower and lower, swathing more and more of your cock inside of her. You’re not even fully hard yet. Just the tip alone is enough to make you reel, but then she drops. Half your length disappearing becomes most of your length gone—and then her ass is planted on your crotch while she’s glossing your thigh shiny with her juices.
“Oh, yes!” Minji exclaims.
You want to express your own contentment—the plush grip of Minji’s pussy will do that—but her other hand, which was on your chest for leverage, moves to your mouth to cover it. Your body protests instinctually, your tongue lashing out, but you take a quiet breath through your nose before holding it in—that’s just what Mommy would want. In addition, it’s this lack of air that instantly brings your erection to rock solidity inside Minji again.
“You came first before Mommy? Bad boy.” Minji pulls her hand away from your mouth, and you’re almost forlorn that you can breathe instead of asphyxiating for her. Fortune has it that her hand is idle, not that you ever doubted. A strike to your left cheek opens your half-lidded eyes.
"Mommy, sorry. Sorry, Mommy."
“See? You’re the one who should be the silly whore here. Dumb slut. It fits you so well, baby boy. Just like how my pussy fits your cock so well.” She’s still thinking about one little trip?
“I, ah, I-I never called you that and I was just making sure you were okay, Mommy, and you’re not, you’re not, you’re—”
No slaps, no scratching, no choking. She growls, and you’re silenced. More than silenced. You’re in a state of limbo, a low ambient high brought about by Minji’s thick thighs squeezing your helpless dick inside her warm folds, by her ass bouncing down into your waist which coaxes virtually empty grunts, all while you feel sore from your orgasm just moments ago. Sometimes, her ride on your cock isn’t so reckless, though that’s only because she’s dragging her pussy against your upraised thigh.
“Or maybe you are gonna fuck Mommy brainless, aren’t you? This cock is gonna turn Mommy into a bumbling slut like you.” She giggles.
You’re never sure how to fathom Minji’s bedroom personality. But you’ve learned by now that the uncertainty was principal to your steadfast love of the woman in all aspects. One moment, you’d be thrown around with a definite momentum as if you didn’t tower over her in stature; the next, you’d pin her down in some compromising fixed position while she begs for your cock to go deeper. The more energy that Minji would exhaust, the closer the session would tend toward the latter. But right now, you’re both flagging. You want to respond to her, anything other than the pathetic whimpers, to ask her for a moment of respite.
When you don’t know what to say… “I love you, Mommy.”
After Minji shudders, her grin grows. Her smile that turns her eyes to precious crescents is jarring, admittedly even crazy considering she's being drilled by dick, but the ecstasy must be getting straight to her brain. Still, you can't get used to the unusual juxtaposition of wholesome felicity painted on her face against her ass rippling, her tits bouncing, her pussy leaking thoroughly around your cock.
Minji turns around into cowgirl, the twisting sensation impossibly pleasurable for your shaft, wet and soft insides shrouding you with perfection. She leans down to suck at your neck, and your head whips back into the mattress. With a touch of pressure from her teeth, she leaves sharper marks in addition to the bruises on your sensitive skin.
Despite all the times you've fucked Minji, you've learned there's no such thing as the right rhythm. Not that she’s altogether arrhythmic, but she'll ride faster than her heart can beat for a minute, then slowly shake her hips and snuggle your cock the next minute. Even on a good day, she can be fickle with the amount of force, the speed, or the exact position of her limbs. Her complete control of riding you cowgirl becomes a fifty-fifty split: half the time, Minji is doing her usual unbridled jackhammering down into your cock, though the other half of the time when she needs some air, you gain some upward momentum. As it turns out, this is one of those days where the only material priority for Minji is getting dicked so hard that her own name is a distant memory.
Your memory is fading too. All but Mommy in your mind is masked.
“Sss, so gh—ahh, good.” You can barely breathe the words out, even if she isn’t blocking your mouth anymore. “F-fffuuck. Good, good, so, god, damn, good.”
Every word of praise makes Mommy—Minji—clamp around your cock harder. Her mouth lets go of your neck, and she looks up at you with beady eyes while her ass slams down into your crotch. "Is Mommy good enough to breed?"
"Yes. Mommy, you're perfect, every part of you. The way you fuck me and use me like I’m your toy, I want to fill your womb so badly.”
“Every part of me?”
“Of course, Mommy.” You’re resolute. Easy. It’s just pure honesty.
“Tell me, baby boy, tell me exactly what you mean.” One hand grabs your neck like fragile porcelain, as if Minji doesn’t hold fast, you’ll shatter. The other is handy at your red cheek, already marked by her many slaps.
You don’t need the threat of the slap to continue; no, quite the opposite, your words are animated by her fingers tightening around your throat.
“Your body's so perfect. I could drool over you, worship your tits, your ass, your waist, your muscles, your abs. Your pussy especially is the tightest, wettest, prettiest thing. I love you so much Mommy. Treat me like your fuck doll, like your dildo, I don’t care. I don’t need anything else. I don’t need my hands, I don’t need porn. And above all that, you’re the sweetest—”
Another strike.
“Ow! Fwgh, mmm, M-Mommy, please… you're too rough, hhngh. More."
Minji keeps slapping you, her nails dragging along your face. Each slap is accompanied by a couple downwards thrusts of her butt, enveloping your cock in slickness as she rides you. "Tell me I’m good! That I’m the best Mommy!"
"You are… you're the best Mommy… the best, please."
"Mhmm, that's my good boy. I love you so much."
More scratches on your body as Minji’s fingers lower to your chest. You could watch the action of her hands all day or even masturbate just to the sight of her hands, remembering every passionate (and impassioned) handjob she’s given you. Sometimes, you wish she’d just get this over with, your cock tender in its replete stiffness, and you wouldn’t mind if Minji would just give you that perfect stimulation with her hands—maybe you would blast all over her face. (She’d love that; she'd love to just walk outside proudly with her badge of honor for all to see.) Your muscles are fatigued too. You’re more limp body than man.
Minji is fucking you so hard that you’re being shoved around the mattress. You could easily free yourself—the knot binding your wrists isn’t that tight—but then you’d be missing the point. True freedom is the absolute lack of control afforded by Minji’s severity. She’s not just grinding against your crotch anymore; she’s pushing you around, shoving sheets and pillows to the floor. You note one particularly stained pillow falling; your cock is coated the same way.
Precariously near the edge of the bed, your head follows.
She removes your restraint, and you want to grab her waist, hold her hands, feel her tits—anything to touch your woman again—but Minji swats your hand away while nudging forward and forward with each thrust into your cock.
Your head dangles off the bed, and again, you bring your hands to hold onto her hips, onto her ass, even onto the sheets—Minji swats them away again.
So this is by design.
With another push, you half fall off, your back bending against the edge of the mattress. You realize why you need your hands now: to stop your head from hitting the floor. You feel silly, emasculated, with your legs flat on the bed, your ass on the edge, while you’re holding yourself up trying to look at Minji.
“Wh-what?” Though you have some vague idea of what's happening, you can't stop your flabbergastation.
“See, look! This is actually another position I saw! Seriously.” Upon a more serious inspection of your compromising position, Minji giggles.
Her feet are at her sides while her arms are behind her, pushing her breasts out. Her crotch is held just so your tip is kissed by her labia. It's almost her usual cowgirl ride if you weren't struggling with your head and shoulders floor-bound.
“Doesn’t this feel good?" Minji asks. "All the blood rushing to your head?”
The strain on your neck and your back is nothing compared to the spinning heights of pleasure, but you don't answer her, catching a breath.
“Please tell me you’re okay.” Minji sounds worried for a second.
“I am. I’m more than okay, Mommy. This feels really good.”
“Really?”
“Mmm, mhm.” Admittedly, you sound as okay as you feel. Whatever. Flip it 180 degrees and you're looking at an average day of gaming anyway.
"Okay." Minji nods, directed more to herself in reassurance than to you. "Okay. Okay, okay, ohh, kay, ohh, kht, ohh, fuck."
And she's back to her bouncing, whatever irreverent rhythm that may hold.
You're looking at the ceiling, dark and bright or the lights are funny or the two lights-receivers in your head are funnier, and even funnier still is that you've been fucking Minji since the sundown or maybe the sun's coming up or that's the comedy playing with you again but in any of those cases the creamy and velvety sensations of her folds clinging on your cock are magnified tenfold to fold you into folding.
You're not okay, or at least at one hundred percent, and that's the best part.
"Are you gonna be a good boy and give me your thick load? Yeah? Are you gonna make a mess inside Mommy's pussy?" Minji’s voice is a soft rasp through the heavy moans.
Somehow, despite the lightheadedness, a flash of inspiration hits you. “Of course, I would never waste my cum on anything except for Mommy. I'm all yours because you're so gorgeous and sweet and wild and adorable. You deserve the stars, this world and the world's over. I love you, Mommy. Use me.”
At your genuine tone, she clenches harder—too easy. “Mmm fuck, good boy. H-how are you so good too? I'm gonna have to fuck the goodness out of you!”
Minji's eyes roll back; she doesn't even know what she's saying, but she's saying it with such cute, gleeful confidence.
You guess that being dicked down (up?) silly will do that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck everything out of me, Mommy.” To ram your dick up into Minji, you have to lock your waist, getting no actual leverage from the floor. Therefore, your request is more of an inevitability. Everything will be fucked out of you. Every drop of semen from your balls—that much is obvious—but so too does your mind fly away on command.
“Everything. Everything. Ggh, god, yes. You, you know, that cum would spray my whole body if it weren’t inside me. It’d make Mommy all sticky and messy. Not this time. All the way down your cock, all, all the way until all your seed’s drained. Nowhere, ffh, there’s nowhere for your cum to go but my womb.”
The motion of Minji’s waist is a dance you can’t keep up with, and the position makes your muscles burn, nearly cramp. Her bouncing is getting shallower yet deeper simultaneously: her pussy lips refuse to lift further than an inch off the root of your length, giving you fast yet steadfast grinding.
“You’re so deep in me,” Minji says, the pained expression on her face concerning you—but there’s nothing you can do to stop her, “fucking hitting me because your cock is so perfect for Mommy’s hole, fuck, fuck. Your tip’s kissing my cervix, fh, ahh, ow. That’s where it belongs though. Snug against me, getting your good boy cum all for me, all for me, it’s all mine, all mine.”
Hot, wet, soft, all-engulfing, ever-milking. With all those pleasurable sensations, you realize the blindfold and restraints were optional, more for Minji’s enjoyment than yours, because you’re trapped in her cunt regardless of the makeshift implements. Like the sparks in a dark and massive cloud ready to jump out, you feel a deep tingle in your balls.
“Drain your cum into Mommy’s ovaries, plant your seed, flood me until I’m fucking coated. Don’t, kh, hold, kh, back.”
Given her appetite—see her eyes, never losing their singular focus on you—you’re not surprised that she can maintain her lewd language for this long. Meanwhile, you can only grunt out primal noises, though they sound weakened, more akin to near-defeated prey.
“Cum for Mommy, cum hard for Mommy, give me everything. I love you so much.”
And thus, defeat. You’ve never been dizzier. Your whole body is throbbing and your head is throbbing and your head is throbbing too, and that throbbing becomes a full-bodied high in which your blood doesn’t know where to go, but your cum only has one place to be and it needs to get there fast because your balls are too full. The eruption is geologic, incomparable even though you have countless other Minji-induced—Minji-impelled—orgasms to compare.
Since she’s milking➠
every⥬
drop⹃
out┈
till it⤐
shuts╍
lights⤎
It’s supposed to be this one—
You’re coming back.
You’re back.
Almost.
She’s still going—still—
Not still. Not still. Not—Up, down.
Ah. There it is.
What happened?
Your mind is catching up with the present where you understand more and more that the abrupt severance of your thoughts is caused by Minji slamming into your spent cock somehow still erect, still spurting into her womb. That must surely ache for her as it does for you if her claims about her physiology are anything to be—ah, who the fuck cares; her pussy is home for your pulsating shaft no matter how she moves it.
You’re left as a slumped husk of a man, feebly moaning. Your jelly legs sag to join what remains of you on the floor, and your breathing is fitful.
“Nhh, baaaby.” Minji plays with her clit in paradise while the other hand rubs her sweaty tummy in adoration of the load. Her labia is all creamy, but she does not let an ounce escape her. “Thick and warm and sloshing in my womb.”
After Minji deems herself satisfied, she crawls down next to you on the floor and cuddles.
“Uh. Noona.”
Her head fits perfectly in the crook of your neck, her lips greedy for touch. “Hm?”
“So. Uh. The bed? Instead?” Each breath of yours is a labored ordeal. Lights flicker.
“Oh.”
Whether or not you got to the bed without passing out remains a question unanswered.
Then again, a pillow, no matter its specialness, isn’t exactly a breathing thing.
You’re more…
So indeed, the lights go out.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
No, it’s not directly related to The Curse of the Spider. I just wanted to write for Minji in the same vein (but not fucked up), especially with that Something performance. And look how timely this is! Right in time for her birthday.
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I might have the opportunity to put a down payment on 100 acres of wilderness!! I'm poor as fuck so this is a huge deal and I hope I'm not overlooking something that would make this a bad idea! I don't want to jump the gun but I also don't want to wait too long and lose it. Going for for a road trip with my bf and his dad soon to check it out if the listing is still up in a few weeks. What are some things you would do first if you had a lot of land in the middle of nowhere with not much chance of road or hydro access? Note I wouldn't have to go live there immediately so it could be long term plans. You probably inspired me to find this property in the first place btw <3 Thank you for your writing and your blog.
Hey that is incredible! I'm so happy for you! I wish I could come and see your soon-to-be property, it sounds incredible.
I've been thinking about what are the first things to be done, and since you have such great amount of space, you have to get familiar with it, and see what good spots you have, what plants and trees are growing there, the quality and the composition of the soil, and most important, where the water goes.
People are advised to watch over a new property for a year before deciding to build anything, because you can't know until you see the land during summer, autumn, winter and fall, where the water flows on it, where it stays, what direction it goes to, if it overflows and creates ponds in some areas, if there are streams in the spring, and this is incredibly important if you're planning to build anything. It's also good to see what's your highest point, and your lowest point, and if you have any clover growing! (clover=quality planting soil)
There are things you can do way before deciding to build anything, and it's planting fruit trees, establishing perennial plants, putting strawberries wherever you want them so they would spread by the time you start living there.
I've seen people drawing a map and then making plans to where everything should be, so that they don't start building something, and later realize that it would have been better to put another thing in that spot, but with such a big property, it might be a bit overwhelming! I would start by just finding a nice little corner with a great view and access to water (like if there's a pond or a stream nearby, or I'd have a big bottle of it), and then make that place feel as homey and cozy is possible, maybe make a bench there, it's always great to have a bench! Or a hammock, that makes a place immediately feel comfortable and enjoyable to be in. That way you'll be able to relax in your corner, and be able to go exploring more and deciding what you want to explore or do next, without a rush to immediately take control over the entire place.
I've seen a lot of people on youtube buying those small water pumps and manually installing them on their land in order to have water, it looked like a super easy way to acquire drinking water! Here's a link to one: Link.
It's never a bad idea to acquire land, there's not enough land currently owned by women, and we know what m*n do to it! Here's a great book that can help you with anything regarding land ownership and building, I can't recommend it enough: Link (it's Back to Basics)
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Dirty Henry
Summary: A picnic in the rural forest turns into a steamy game of profanities as Henry decides to demonstrate how he would persuade you to be his.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (2nd person POV)
Word count: 2K
Warning: 18+, smutty smut, oral sex - female receiving, lewd, descriptive profanities that will make your ears burn,praising, outdoor sex, gentle rough sex, creampie.
A/N: This was requested ages ago: messing around with Henry duri picnic. The dirty talk was inspired by a chat with Wendy. Beta’d by the one and only queen @agniavateira. The Mythology quotes of Apollo and Dapne are based on Wikipedia. *No permission is given of reposting, copying my work or ideas and parts from it and claiming it as your own*
Feedback is welcome, comment and reblog if you enjoyed.
Title: Dirty Henry
Honey-coloured leaves floated in the air, flapping tenderly like frail butterflies that danced frivolously in the wind. Lying on your back over a blanket, you watched them as you listened to the rustle of leaves and the water flowing down the small stream nearby.
Henry’s head rested on your thigh; his smooth baritone stroked your ears in the most satisfying melody you’ve ever heard as he read to from his book.
“...Offended by Apollo’s remarks, Eros has decided to take vengeance on the god. He shot him with a golden arrow, causing him to fall intensely in love with Daphne, the fair river nymph, which he then shot with a lead arrow, imbuing her with pure hatred toward Apollo.”
A small grin peeked at the corners of your lips, your hand reaching to find the dark bundle of curls on his head and began coaxing them around your slender fingers.
The forest smelled of evergreen mist, mushy lichen, and tranquil tree stumps that had new lifeforms growing on them. On the tip of your nose, you caught Henry’s distinguished scent. His earthy musk called you by your name.
Henry wiggled slightly on your thigh and cleared his throat before he continued reading.
“Apollo chased the virginal nymph through the thicket, all the while declaring his undying love. When all seemed lost, Daphne cried out and begged her father, Peneus, to save her from Apollo’s unwanted courtship.”
“When a guy is so annoying that you have to turn into a tree in order to get rid of him for good,” you teased while inhaling the alluring scent of the forest.
Henry chuckled lightly, his head bobbing on your leg. He turned on his side and looked at you, his cut cheeks rose to a playful smile. “Well, perhaps all Apollo needed was a chance to show her his true affection to persuade her.”
“Oh, is that so?” you tilted your head to gaze at Henry with amusement, noticing the spark of mischief that shone in his cobalt eyes. He placed the book down on its belly and flipped onto his haunches, planting a kiss on your exposed ankle.
“Perhaps…” he uttered, the soft pads of his fingers running up the path of your leg like tongues of silk. Your leg jolted at his touch, breaking down to the ground feebly. Henry leaned down, nudging your other leg aside, his mouth was hot and wet around your inner thigh. “...all she needed was for him to show her.”
You nibbled your lip, watching Henry’s dark curls shine between your knees in the scattered daylight. His broad back flexed, taut muscles moved in synergy as he worked through the path to your hidden garden.
“Sometimes, you just need to eat her pussy properly, and she’s yours.” he said huskily. You flushed at his profanities, your cheeks tingling as blood rushed to your head. He had a way with words; they didn’t just sound dirty; they were sin itself, and his rich British accent made even the most sacrilegious statement deeply romantic.
Henry was well aware of your embarrassment, teasing you for your false chastity. He used his mouth in many talented ways, whispering lust against your enticing flesh to make your ears burn.
You stared coyly, hugging your breasts like a shy lover, watching him explore you as if you were uncharted territory.
His tongue embarked through the vale of your body, leaving a wet trail that chilled your skin in the October breeze. You threw your head back and hissed to the canopy of leaves that hid the two of you from the sky. Every touch of his fingers against your flesh set feverish ripples through your skin. Possessive hands grasped at soft the hills of your breasts and squeezed tightly while his lips marked their way below your navel.
He enjoyed this, making you feel so powerless. His deep blue eyes pierced sharply as your head went from side to side like a scared virgin, biting your knuckle as excitement blazed between your sweaty inner thighs. His greedy fingers gripped at the meat of your hips, folding your legs up and splitting them while his head dived in-between.
The soft curls of his hair tickled the naked skin of your apex. Lush and tender kisses dotted the line that led to your core.
“Henry, please,” you begged, out of breath. His fingers stroked the shape of your womanhood, rimming the gates of your garden with the soft pads of his finger. He laid a kiss on the silk shawl of your clit and an amorous hum spilt from him, appeased at the lusciousness of your skin.
“I love your cunt, so much.” his words slurred with sultry haze, emphasising the one word that made your muscles sear with embarrassment. You threaded your fingers through your hair and tugged at it as frustration and tension grew across your nerves.
It was astonishing how vocal he was whilst roping simple words with sinful actions.
He kissed your cherry, tongue lapping around it slowly before his lips suckled longingly. A deep moan vibrated through the pit of his mouth, making you mewl with blissful little jolts of pleasure.
“Fuck,” Henry murmured as he broke from your clit and moved his lips against the sweet petals of your cunt, his hot breath caressing your succulent fruit. “I’m going to lick every inch of this marvellous pussy, and then fuck you with my tongue.”
The air vaporised in your lungs; moans didn’t even meet their end, becoming hoarse wheezes, shuddering through the threads of your sinew. Violent tremors made your legs jitter in his grip, had he not held you forcefully they would have fallen aside.
A low chuckle escaped him as he hooked one of your knees over his shoulder and moved a hand to manipulate your folds. His fingers unwrapped you, pulling your valley open to allow his tongue taste the nectar of your arousal.
Your entire body arched as if possessed, your spine levitating over the surface, desperate howls sent to the sky above. His tongue lingered through your seams, collecting every drop attentively.
“Be a good girl, and I’ll shove my cock inside you.”
Speech was another one of his powers, enchanting you entirely. You whimpered as his hips bucked against yours in a desperate demand. He would never just fuck you, no, Henry loved to take his time. Foreplay would go for hours if he felt like it, playing with your body until your throat went dry and ached and your bones melted away.
“You like it, don’t you?” he asked as he ran the snake in his mouth all the way through your swollen crease. “Me going deep inside your sweet little cunny, splitting you open, shooting my load inside you.”
He expected no answer as you couldn’t form any, but you cried out and ripped turfs of grass in your hands instead. His large tongue sank inside your cunt, invading as deep as possible between the velvet walls. He curled it skillfully, savouring on the taste with a delightful moan.
Pleasing you gave him just as much bliss. You were made to believe you were ambrosia which he feasted on.
His mouth mapped your insides, knowing every spot, lavishing it on repeat while your moans increased, turning into hopeless cries. This man has read the language of your body. He knew when you were close and he knew how to prolong his torture- to make it last, to make you scream.
And scream you did, with tears rolling down your temples, eyes squeezed shut as the stimulation became too much. He sucked on your cunt and plunged his tongue, getting you close and then far again.
The pleasure bundled at the edge of your core, knotting your muscles from your orgasm. In despair, you squirmed, frustration making you seek for any means to breach through heaven which was just a kiss away. Waving from side to side, you pleaded, but Henry’s large hand slid onto your lower torso, pressing you down to be grounded with nothing but slight force. He limited your movement as he ate you out profoundly, his tongue singing hymns in your depth.
“Henry!” you wailed, unable to withstand his torture. His chin chafed you, his tongue squirmed between your lush lips and just when you thought you were to blackout, he thrust the tip of his into the spot that made you see stars. Your dam broke, your head lifted from the ground as ecstasy spasmed through every nerve, lighting it with an electric charge.
Untethered gasps fell from your mouth, chest heaving up and down as euphoria lingered by. Henry was impatient, his wide waist was already pushed between your spread-open thighs to fulfil his promise. The metallic clanging of his belt was sharp enough to pull you back down, followed by the giant hovering over your small frame and driving into your still-convulsing cavern, sliding in veins and ridges.
And you felt it all.
A duet of moans played into the forest as your bodies collided. Henry ran deep, bottoming inside and clutching your jaw to the side, praising your neck and cheeks with earnest kisses and grunts that reverberated in your ears.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked above you back and forth, his thick shaft pulsated blazing-hot amidst the fight your walls put against his invasion. They never stood a chance, he was iron in velvet expanding them with every shove.
“Such a tight little pussy,” he breathed as he slipped in and out in a steady rhythm, “I’m going to come inside you, paint you with my seed.��
His hands seized your face again, his bulging biceps caging your head while he uttered words of praise entangled with obscenities. The threats of what he planned to do with your body, of how good it felt inside you made you wail in an embarrassing pleasure.
“Yes, take it. Take my cock,” he snarled breathlessly. He was heavy above and inside your body, every slam forcing your legs to jerk helplessly in the air and your behind to ache as it mashed beneath the weight of his body. You cried in ecstasy, feeling his entire length pumping in and out. Long, rasping plunges spiralled inside with tingling little tremors that danced in your essence and continued to spread further the tighter he got you.
Feeling the tightness grow around his shaft he snapped his arms beneath your knees, spreading you wider so he could fuck you vigorously into oblivion. You screamed his name in despair, his grip making you no more than a fucktoy to which he jostled his cock into, back and forth, wet and quick.
And you loved it, you loved feeling like you’re nothing but a slit for him; your entire essence shattered, destroyed by his body, consumed by your love for him. The new position made his sac thud lewdly beneath your slit, and your clit repeatedly ground into his pubic bone.
The merciless ordeal was too much, seeing Henry above you and herding his moans was too much.
“Henry!!! Fuck! I...” You were broken in, sobs of pure bliss cracked through your throat as you came undone, bursting with love. Your head rolled back on the ground, and your body locked him in with zeal. Henry groaned, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he felt the suction in you, pulling him deeper like a siren drowning a lost sailor. Your convulsing walls begged for the rich milk of his loins as he fought to delay his pleasure, but lost to the turbulence that overwhelmed him.
Shouting your name, he released himself, gasping hot against the corner of your mouth. You were stuffed full of his cum as he pulled out; he held your legs up and slid your panties back on.
“I want it to stay,” he explained, “I want you to carry me in your panties all day long.”
He crawled to lie by your side and reached his hand to the book. His finger went into his mouth to dampen it as he turned the page over as if nothing happened.
“Next chapter, Hades and Persephone.”
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punk rock princess
spencer reid x reader
synopsis; where spencer’s working on the final paper for his third phd meanwhile you take on the task of making sure he takes a break.
warnings; smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, sub!spence if you squint, nipple piercings;),
a/n; i’m not saying this is my fantasy but .. this is my fantasy,, inspired by this song, y’all know the drill. you don't have to listen while reading but i always love to set the vibe. lastly y/n doesn't have any mentioned features or looks besides piercings/tattoos,, the rest is all up to you:)
pls send in feedback!
***
A shiver crawled down your spine from the first squirt of dye hitting your scalp. The bubblegum pink shade being a change from the firey red which inhabited your head a mere 24 hours prior.
The process was muscle memory at this point. Brushing out your hair then parting and sectioning it off. However that was the only methodical part. The fun was in slapping on the dye, not a single worry about staining your hands or neck.
The sounds of heavy drums and bass guitar bounced off the walls in the bathroom of the small apartment. Even though the door was shut it wasn't enough to stop the sound from flowing into the living room where your boyfriend was working.
Spencer sat at the dining table, flipping through copious amounts of folders and books. His third thesis in the process of being written. The computer screen in front of him looking back with a mocking glow. Since apparently things had to be digital now.
Your feet padding on the wooden floor made him look up from the pages. Humming to the music as you walked into your bedroom. Then back out a few seconds later holding a towel and robe.
A small smile tugged across his face. Ever since you had moved in together he loved to watch your day to day actions. The way you played your music concerningly loud, your skincare routine which included cleaning your facial piercings. What fascinated him the most was that in the 13 months you’d been together he’d seen you dye your hair 7 times.
Not including any touch ups.
He stood from his place at the table, making his way to the bathroom. Two quick rasps on the door to check if you were decent. The action made you giggle.
“Come in!” you called, “I don’t know why you knock weirdo you’ve seen me naked plenty of times.”
A blush spread across his cheeks from both your words and your state of undress. His eyes tried to focus on the splotches of color on the counter, keeping the blood flowing to the head on his shoulders.
But it was hard when the sheer bralette you had on did very little to hide the metal bars in each of your breasts.
“Spence?” you said snapping a fingers in front of him.
He cleared his throat, eyes snapping to your face which held a smirk.
“Are uh those n-new?” he questioned, hand going to scratch the nape of his neck.
The usual silver balls at the end of the bars were now tiny jewell hearts. The color was a little hard to tell due to the material of your bra but from the change in your hair he could almost bet money they were also pink.
With swift hands you unclipped your bra and threw it on the closed toilet seat before turning to face him.
“Got them when I bought the dye yesterday,” you said pushing your boobs up with your hands, “You like?”
Spencer’s eyes were as big as saucers, frantically nodding, “Y-yeah they look nice.”
You dropped your hands to your hips, tugging off the shorts you had on. The wide brown eyes before you couldn’t get any bigger, trailing down your frame stopping to admire the bar in your belly button along with the ink which littered your ribs.
He watched as you got to your knees, turning on the bath faucet. You dipped your head under the water, a stream of pink filling the tub.
The slope of your spine bent over was a sight he'd seen more than enough times. He could pinpoint the beauty marks on your left shoulder, the small sun he sketched which ended up permanently on the back of your neck. But if he let his gaze drift a little further south he could see how deliciously the dark lace looked barley covering up your most intimate parts.
A smack to his calf got his attention.
“Earth to Spencer! Can you hand me the shampoo,” you asked which came out sounding a bit muffled.
He quickly scurried to the tub and reached over to grab the bottle, squeezing a bit of gel onto your open palm.
"I'm gonna go work on my thesis some more," Spencer said slowly shutting the door behind him.
Making his way back to the living room, he pulled a few files and sat down on the couch. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and red pen between his teeth and he stared in concentration.
They were the same words he had read over and over again. The lack of sleep causing a dull ache in his skull.
"You need to take a break love," you said walking over and sitting next to Spencer on the couch.
"I did take one," he argued back flipping through the file.
"Gawking at me before I shower for 2 minutes isn't a break," you said with a giggle, the warmth flooding back to his cheeks, "Cmon 25 minutes at least without a file in your hand. "
When he didn't respond you took matters into your own hands. Ripping the file from his grasp, earning a grumble of disapproval before you straddled his hips. Your arms circled his neck and your hands went straight to the back of his scalp, fingertips running in soothing motions.
"Isn't this so much better baby," you asked whispering in his ear.
He nodded quickly, staying silent as he let his actions speak louder. His large palms went right to your plush hips. Bucking up as he led you to grind yourself on his lap.
Letting his hands explore the material of your satin rope he could feel the lack of undergarments on your frame. Spencer dared to let his hands dip under the black fabric and take each one of your cheeks in the palm of your hand with a gentle squeeze.
You could feel his cock stiffening under you. If you looked down you'd probably be able to see a wet spot on his sweats, most likely a mix of your arousals.
Leaning forward you let your lips attack his neck, placing sloppy kisses sure to leave marks. The process of licking and biting making Spencer hold onto you tighter, almost as if he had his very own vampire to mark him up.
Trailing up to his ear you bit on the lobe before whispering, "Tell me what you need baby."
Lust filled brown orbs met your own as you each continued your steady grind.
"Please fuck me," he pleaded.
If only he knew how wrapped around his finger you were. As pretty as he sounded begging you'd give him anything.
You pulled the metal frames off his face, tossing them to the other side of the couch. He had complained one too many times about foggy glasses during sex. No matter how cute you thought he looked.
Your hands slid down his torso and reached to pull down his sweats. His precum soaked length was heavy in your hands. Pretty pink tip leaky and throbbing already. The first few pumps had whiny moans slipping from his lips, red from biting so hard.
"Unwrap me baby, it's all for you," you said tilting your head down, motioning to the strings holding your robe together.
Quickly he let his slender fingers go to the ends, a swift tug and it was like opening a gift on Christmas. Leaning forward he let his lips wrap around one of your nipples. A strangled moan leaving your mouth from the stimulation.
With a raise of your hips you lined his cock with your opening before sliding down. You both sighed at the same time, the feeling of him stretching you out and your warm walls hugging his length was just too good.
Slowly you rocked your hips testing the waters, soft gasps and curses left your lips. You could feel very vein and inch stuffed inside you.
Spencer on the other hand was having an out of body experience, there wasn't an inch of your skin which was left untouched. Unkissed. After you were settled he raised his hips meeting you halfway with each thrust.
"You're doing so well baby," you cooed down at him, "You love when I ride you hm? Best fucking seat in the house."
His eyes shut closed in pleasure as your pace quickened, "Love it so much. So so pretty," he mumbled out.
His arms pulled you close again. Chest to chest as you continued your movements. Your lips met in a lazy kiss, panting in each others mouths when you ran out of air.
You could feel him pulsating inside you. The iron grip he had on your hips as he helped drive you up and down on his cock was sure to feel sore the next day. His shoulders were sure to have corresponding crescent marks from your nails digging in.
"Touch me Spence m'so close love," you said breathlessly.
One of his hands fell down to the space where you both connected. Skilled fingers rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in quick circular motions.
Loud moans escaped your lips. Your head fell back to the familiar junction of his neck and shoulder, biting the skin in order to stifle your noises of pleasure.
"Y/n I can't hold it any longer, please cum with me," he whimpered out.
Nodding your head you grabbed onto the back of his neck, "Right behind you baby. Let go for me, I got you."
With a few more upward thrusts you felt him pull you down onto his cock, warmth spreading in your tummy. The feeling of his seed filling you up and his euphoric groans sent you over the edge.
You both rode out your orgasms, swiveling hips and satisfactory sighs of release leaving your lips.
After a few minutes of content silence listening to the music still flowing through the hall you moved to get up, the sticky mess between your thighs less than comfortable.
Warm arms kept you in place, denying your movement.
"Spence I gotta clean up," you said trying to push yourself off his chest.
"If I remember correctly you said at least 25 minutes and from my calculations I have 3 minutes and 38 seconds left of cuddle time," the lanky man under you said matter of factly.
You rolled your eyes, sighing but resting your head back on his shoulder, "If I get a UTI thats 3 minutes and 38 seconds of me playing screamo in your ear at full volume."
With one last squeeze he kissed the side of your head, the scent of ammonia only sightly bothering him, "Worth it."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#chellewrites
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Better Than Sex? || Trevor Belmont
Trevor Belmont x Female Pirate!Reader; Reader plays the role of Trevor’s wife.
Summary: When Trevor claims that ale is better than sex, Y/N gives him the worst case of blue balls.
Genre: Smut
Written in third person point of view.
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, fisting (?), vaginal penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, hair pulling, biting, choking, mild language, sexual innuendos (throughout the imagine), mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of pregnancy, & Trevor being the horny little shit he is lmao
A/N: So, I posted this on my first piece on AO3 and let me just tell you...I FUCKING HATE IT. Anywho, enjoy this while I go to sleep :)
Word count: 3.5k
She twisted her neck as she sat down, groaning audibly at the stiffness in her neck.
“Rough day, m’lady?” the clerk asked, filling a tankard with the cold ale before slipping it in front of her.
“You bet your arse it was a tough day,” she replied, taking a swig of the ale as she gripped onto the stein. “I’ve got my husband groaning about the number of night creatures he’s killed in one night, my crew complaining about me leaving. I just needed a nice cold-”
“Stein of ale.”
The voice was familiar enough.
“How the fuck did you find me?” she asked, annoyance bountiful in her tone.
She loved Trevor to bits but having him up her behind all day was becoming a whole task.
“It isn’t very hard when you’re practically married to yourself,” he snarkily chuckled, tilting his head back as the yellow liquid streamed down his throat. “Oh my god, that is better than sex.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest before kicking his stool. Never underestimate the leg of a pirate - that was rule number one in Trevor’s book to marrying a pirate. His malt came spewing out of the mug, landing all over the lower half of his face and the collar of his shirt as he landed flat on his bottom.
“Glad it’s better than sex, Trevor,” she hummed, taking one last sip of her ale before slinging her coat over her shoulders, swiftly making her way out of the pub.
“That’s why I never got married,” the clerk retorted, drying a stein before placing it rim-down on the counter.
-
“Better than sex, he says,” she grumbled as she lathered lotion onto the spans of her legs after stepping out of the shower. “Can’t fucking believe he’d embarrass me like that!”
She trudged out of the bathroom, slamming their bedroom door shut behind her before dropping her towel, stepping into a silky nightgown before getting under the covers. She cried aloud as she heard his groans downstairs, just now coming home from the bar. She placed the covers over her head, trying to drown out the sound of him stumbling up the steps but it was near to impossible. He barged into the room, reeking of nothing but ale and other assortments of alcohol.
“Trevor, go take a shower-”
She was cut off by his hands taking a hold of the underside of her knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice stern as he caressed her thighs.
“Can we?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side as she rolled her eyes.
“You don’t want me to kick you in the balls, do you?”
“No.”
“Then I highly suggest that you let go of my legs before I do.”
He dropped her legs with a whine, falling forward so his forehead rested against her chest. She carded her fingers through his hair, a residue of his sweat on her fingers as he pulled away from her, leaning on his hands as he towered over her.
“Go shower and maybe I’ll let you bury ya little cock inside of me,” she chuckled, softly kissing his lips before pushing him away.
He stood, rubbing his eyes like a child as he left the room.
“It’s not little!”
“Hurry up! I’m not wearing any underwear,” she teased, a fit of laughter consuming her as she heard the shower turn on in an instant.
By the time he’d drunkenly lathered soap all over his body, he was near to asleep. Y/N had been fast asleep, the shower running for twenty minutes straight. He blundered into the room, briefly waking Y/N before she scolded him “to turn the light off and go to sleep.”
“But you said-”
“Trevor, just get in bed,” she said, her voice fading into a whisper before soft snores left her mouth.
He dove under the covers, a heavy arm throwing itself over Y/N’s waist as his hand reached up to rest itself atop one of her breasts.
“Horny even in your sleep,” she muttered, turning onto her other side to face him before throwing a leg over his waist, her arm splaying itself across his back.
-
A week or two had passed and Y/N was quite proud of herself. She hadn’t fallen for Trevor’s weak attempts to get in her underwear. She wasn’t letting her hard demeanor fall no matter what he proposed.
Though she wasn’t giving in to him, she was doing a whole lot of teasing - biting and sucking his sweet spots in the midst of a makeout, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her nails over his clothed black, and most of all, stripping down to just her underwear before heading to the bathroom to shower.
Tonight they were taking a trip to Alucard’s castle, visiting him after many long-awaited months. Y/N was far more excited to rejoice with their friends than anything, hurrying to get on the carriage while Trevor struggled with her bags.
“Oh, right,” she muttered, hopping off of the carriage before taking her bags from Trevor, throwing them in the back.
“Thank you,” he snarled, a sigh following.
The ride was everything Y/N could have imagined. Though it became cold at night, Y/N greatly adored the trees adorned by emerald leaves and birds chirping throughout the forest. Night creatures were the least of her worries, she and Trevor taking them down in less than ten minutes.
On the contrary, the ride was dreadful for Trevor. He and Y/N spent many hours with their lips locked, her ending up on his lap somehow, but it was her motive to stick to her plan, hopping off of him as he went to undo the buttons of her shirt. At this point, he was tired of it but he hadn’t exactly done anything to prove so.
“Please?! I won’t be long, I promise,” he’d beg.
“It’s quite a bumpy ride, it’s going to become uncomfortable very quick.”
“Then we can pull over!”
“Night creatures. And villagers. It’d be embarrassing if we were to get caught by anyone or anything. Besides, I’d lose my drive after having to sever off the head of a human-sized wolf.”
Trevor indignantly accepted his fate, remaining silent for the majority of the rest of the trip.
-
“Alucard!”
She was quick to jump off of the carriage, stretching a bit before running to greet her pale best friend.
“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he chuckled, his hands lingering on the small of her back as he peered at her. “Y’know, I’d expect you to be knocked up after not seeing you for so long.”
She chuckled, glancing around to find him popping a cigar between his lips.
“I’ve given him possibly the bluest balls ever since we’ve been together.”
“You are a terrible woman,” he grinned, slipping past her as he went to greet Trevor.
Settling down in the castle that night was far beyond elating, Sypha arriving quite late but still making it in time for dinner.
“You know,” Y/N started, taking a sip of wine after swallowing the bit of roasted potato in her mouth. “I was seriously stunned by how attractive you were when you first floated out of your coffin and I was tempted to drop to my knees right there and then only to be turned down after telling me that you didn’t go that way.”
As Sypha and Alucard laughed away, Trevor glared at her, his jaw clenching at the unnecessary insight of information.
“And I was greatly upset when Trevor made his move on you. I was waiting to pounce on him but then I realized how hot you two looked together,” Sypha giggled, bringing her attention to Trevor’s reddened face. “Of course, I don’t feel that way about you know. I’m more so jealous of the fact that you’re married to her. I’m not sure if it’s the insane amount of sex you guys have been having but she looks gorgeous. She’s always been beautiful but the pregnancy glow that is to come,” she paused, kissing her fingertips. “Chef’s kiss.”
“Why does everyone think that I’m pregnant or I’m going to be pregnant?” she asked, a fit of laughter following as she took a sip of wine from the glass in front of her. “I wouldn’t be drinking this much if I were.”
“Well, you’re postponing it,” Trevor mumbled, earning a guffaw from the other pair as he’d muttered loud enough not only for Y/N to hear but for anyone within five feet to hear.
“Piece of shit,” she muttered, quiet enough for no one to hear.
Drinks flowed like water, the group intoxicating themselves as each hour passed.
“Come dance with me,” Alucard encouraged, standing in the center of the living area as he put his record player on.
“Had you figured out how to not step on someone’s feet while dancing or do I have to smack you upside the head like I did the first time?” Y/N asked, fixing the button of her blouse ere to taking Alucard’s hand.
“You’ll just have to find out,” he winked, pulling her body flush against his while his other hand slithered around to meet her waist.
Y/N watched as Sypha dragged Trevor to dance with her, her eyes getting caught with the cerulean ones she was infatuated with. She grinned at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she shot him a wink. Alucard spun her around, their feet moving in a series of patterns with one hand onto his shoulder and the other in his palm.
“And switch,” he called to Sypha, the two boys switching their partners.
“And we meet again, Belmont,” she sultrily spoke, one arm draping over his shoulder while the hand of the other took ahold of his stubbled-chin.
Her chest was pressed against his, her breasts nearing his collarbones as his arm that remained tight around her waist found a way to hoist her body.
“You’re such a little fuckin’ tease, you know that?” he grumbled, his teeth nipping at the skin of her neck.
“What? Am I gonna get punished for it?” she mocked a pout, her cleavage on full display as the buttons of her shirt slowly came undone.
He responded with a growl, his fingertips digging into the plump flesh of her ass. Their legs were an entangled mess; her knee pressed right up to his crotch and his thigh firm against her clothed sex.
“Might as well just fuck me in front of them,” she muttered as he spun her around, her back against his front with one of his hands fixed on her breast.
“Trust me, I’ve considered it.”
Adrian and Sypha looked up for a moment, feeling the thick, tense rope between the couple. They simply looked at each other, stifling their laughter as he spun her around yet again, this time switching her off to Adrian while Sypha was reeled back into his arms.
“That was quite intense,” Alucard retorted.
-
He slammed her back against the door, knocking the wind out of her lungs as his lips attacked hers. Their lower regions ground against one another, his hands holding onto her knees while his upper half held her up.
He pulled away for a moment, groaning at the sight of her swollen lips, a combination of their saliva coating the flesh. He bit the skin of her neck, rolling it between his front teeth before letting go, sucking on the skin to alleviate the tingling sensation.
“Strip for me - don’t take off your underwear,” he ordered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.
She did as told without a fuss, shimmying out of her skirt and her blouse. He took one look at the white garter around her thigh, letting a scoff-like chuckle fall from his lips. Quite amusing she was. He watched as she stood there, nothing but white lace adorning her body.
“I told you to strip,” he said blatantly.
“But I want you to take it off,” she whined, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned like a toddler.
If he weren’t so desperate to have her around his cock, he would have no problem spanking her until she began to cry. However, he didn’t give up his rough demeanor. He held onto her waist, her chest right up to his.
“Fine, since you want to be such a little fucking brat.”
His arms reached around, fingers effortlessly undoing the hook of her bra before coming back to her front. One leg of his came up, his heel planting itself into the mattress of the bed before he spun her around, one of her arms throwing itself over his leg while the other held onto the one that trailed down her stomach, making its way into her underwear.
“Why can’t you just be a good fucking girl?” he quietly grumbled, his lips hiding into the nape of her neck as his fingers played with her clit. “You’re really fucking wet for someone who has so much mouth.”
His pinky and his thumb resting on the insides of her thighs, serving as a mini obstacle to halt her thighs from caving around his hand while his middle and index fingers fucked her furiously. She moaned aloud, her head rolling onto his shoulder.
He continued at a vigorous pace, profanities tumbling from her lips as he curled his fingers inside of her, reaching for her sweet spot. Her legs quivered as he continued doing this, the tips of her fingers digging into his clothed shoulders.
“Trevor, please,” she murmured, her voice light and airy as ecstasy took over her.
“Please what, darling?” he asked, his voice gruff as his mouth neared her ear.
“Please let me cum.”
The chuckle that came from his lips elicited a groan from her throat.
“We barely even started and you need to cum already?” he tsked, pulling his hand out of her underwear and swiping his fingers over her bottom lips, requesting access as her saliva coated his digits.
“Mm, I should torment you for needing to cum in less than five minutes when I’m sucking your cock, shouldn’t I?”
She’d earned it. But he hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to edge her until she broke or overstimulate her until her cunt was quite literally palpitating. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth as he pushed her onto the bed.
As she attempted to get onto all of her fours, he held onto her neck from behind, pushing her upper body down so her ass was in the air. He pulled her underwear down, earning a string of moans as he blew air onto her soaked pussy.
“You love tempting me, don’t you?” he queried, his fingers entering her one by one with each pump he gave, his thumb stimulating her clit.
His knuckles were deep inside of her, her moans lewd as they curled and twisted.
“Fuck,” she whispered, the side of her face planted deep into the sheets.
“Go ahead, be the loud fucking slut you are. I want them to hear.”
She didn’t give in to his commands, groaning into the sheets. A yelp came from her mouth as his free hand wrapped her hair around his fingers, grasping at her scalp afterward. He leaned over her yet again, not having anything to say at this point. His hand removed itself from her cunt, placing a taught slap on her swollen folds.
He undressed in a matter of minutes, cursing at the layers of clothing that adorned his brawny build. He looked at her body, her body shaking from not receiving its release. He laughed to himself, rubbing the head of cock along her folds, her body shuddering under his touch.
“Shit- just fuck me already!”
That had come out a bit more pushy (and a bit louder) than she’d hoped it would come out. She was pretty sure that even Alucard, who was all the way at the end of the hall could’ve heard that.
“Such a little whore,” he spoke, swiftly burying his cock between her velvety walls.
Her back arched as he pushed himself further and further into her womanhood. Had it really been that long? She felt so full - for a moment, she forgot what it felt like to be filled up with Trevor’s cock. She felt every inch, their skin slapping with every inch. She instinctively clenched around him, enticing a loud, dragged out groan from Trevor.
She knew she didn’t have much longer as she had two previous orgasms pent up inside of her, her hands clenching onto the sheets while one of his were on her neck and the other digging its nails into the skin of her hips. Her legs shook, confusion consuming her as he didn’t stop. She came around him, an utterly intense moan rippling from the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” she cried out, her back arching even further as both of his hands held onto her hips, pounding into her.
“Turn around, I wanna see your tits,” he grunted, breathless as his hips snapped into hers.
She did as told, struggling as he still screwed her.
He hoisted her legs, the pit of his elbows supporting the back of her knees.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she got out through moans, one hand throwing her leg over his waist so it could occupy the free space of her neck.
“Making up for lost time, angel face,” he obtained a “matter-of-factly” tone, adding a wink while bringing her to her second orgasm.
And it continued like this all night. His abdomen flexed as each orgasm washed over both him and her, the moonlight shining on their gorgeous bodies.
“Gonna make you cum for each fucking day you decided to torture me.”
His hands had practically been engraved into her neck, red marks forming from how much time his nails spent digging into the sides of her necks. Her chest was littered in bites and hickies, a particularly dark bite embedded into the skin below her collarbone.
His semen painted her walls, filling her stomach as the curvature of his cock protruded her womb. He pulled out of her after earning a whopping twelve orgasms before her walls clenched around him unbearably tight, squirting around his length as her hands scrambled for any bit of his skin.
This orgasm waved through her like no other, her back entirely leaving the mattress as her nails pierced into Trevor’s skin. He pulled out of her, her jaw fallen slack as pants fell from her mouth. He admired the way his seed threatened to spill from her cunt, yet she clenched around nothing, sort of any attempt to cave it inside of her.
He hurried to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He tenderly maneuvered the wet fabric around her folds, muttering encouraging words as she fought sleep.
“You can sleep down, angel. You did so well for me.”
“I can’t believe how outstandingly you performed.”
As much as she desired it, she didn’t go to sleep, waiting for Trevor to return. She let out a content sigh as she rolled over, one leg throwing itself over both of his as she held his body close to hers in her arms.
“You are one very determined man, aren’t you, Belmont?”
Her voice was hoarse, surely moaning and praising him for how well he was fucking her caused more than half of it. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, eventually shutting once Trevor kissed her temple.
“Only determined when it comes to you,” he muttered, his arms caving around her waist as he too fell into a deep sleep.
-
“Oh, fuck me harder,” she heard Sypha as she approached the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she looked to see the three people she loved most.
“Don’t stop, Trevor! You’re fucking me so well!”
She couldn’t fight the pink tint that splayed itself upon her cheeks, the warmth radiating through the rest of her body.
“Oh, you guys are just jealous that you aren’t getting any of this Belmont dick,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the scorching frying pan in front of him.
“Eh, you might be right about that one,” Alucard muttered, earning a snort from Y/N.
“Look who’s finally awake,” Sypha chuckled, looking at the deep red, soon to be purple marks decorating her best friend’s neck. “You two really went at it last night, didn’t you?”
“Pfft, it’s like he’s having sex with an animal or something,” Alucard retorted, his eyes trained on the bright red scratches on Trevor’s chest, back, and arms.
“Oh, shut it,” Y/N snapped, trying to hide the embarrassment by burying her face into the pit of her laid out arms. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Touché,” he muttered, an exaggerated sigh coming from his mouth as he took a sip of his overly brewed coffee.
“Besides, weren’t you two begging us to give you godchildren?” Trevor grinned, earning a groan from the rest of them. “I thought you’d be happy!”
#castlevania#castlevania netflix#castlevania series#castlevania smut#trevor belmont#trevor belmont imagine#trevor belmont imagines#trevor belmont smut#trevor belmont x reader#trevor belmont x you#trevor belmont x y/n#platonic!alucard x reader#platonic!adrian tepes x reader#platonic!sypha belnades x reader
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OH MAN I MADE MYSELF SAD WITH THIS ONE OH NO OH JEEZ OH CROW WE'RE REALLY IN IT NOW. But this one was FUN. 83. I mean the prompt also just SCREAMS for something truly fucked up for Jmart and UHHHH I HOPE I DELIVERED? ENJOY EVERYONE!
Oct 5th: Nightmare/ “It’s not enough anymore.”
(CWs for major character death SORT OF? References to major character death?? unreality and dreams!)
The Archivist surveys his domain from a broken throne. Crimson cast in the long fingers of light from a dying sun, what was once a wonderland, a cornucopia of horrifying delights, is now just a gutted-out carapace, gnawed clean and bleached red. Everything is sand and rusted girders and shattered glass and bone and hungry silence. What few things that still exist to shiver and be afraid are wrung dry, lifeless creatures more of sorrow and resignation, of defeat and yearning for oblivion than of fear. Sorrow still tastes of fear, in a way, but it is thin and malnourishing, a placebo to glut distended bellies on limbs too thin and weak to carry them on through the wasteland.
He has never had need to leave his ivory tower to wander, however. He can see everything, after all. The mylar veins and nerves of him root him to the core of the Earth and had drunk their fill for countless eons. He had watched from ocular buds and many-eyed vultures feeding the green dandelion iris of him sitting high in his panopticon as all of existence knelt and cracked open their skulls and chests and spilled their secrets unto his waiting pastures. There is nothing now.
No secrets, no history, no science or art or books, just the fluttering of crumpled black strips of mylar tape. The sky falls, piece by piece, and there are no stars in the wounds left behind, only the void of nothingness and crouches with wide-open jaws ready to breathe in the dust of them when they are gone. Something else bellows out, a foghorn headed thing echolocating blindly in the emptiness, searching in the hollows of a lonesome world for that feeling which cannot exist within itself. There is no one left to miss, no one left to watch, no one left to stalk in the dark, no porous flesh to make a home, no stories left to tell. No one even to bury. Their time is ending. His monarchy crumbles around him and all he has left to do is bow his crown and weep.
Tears flow from countless eyes to water the newly fecund soil beneath him and in a few scraggly, achingly defiant bursts of color, fearless primordial life makes its final stand, heedless that it too, will soon blink out of existence. The delicate, starry petaled blooms trace out an ancient shape and memorialize a long-forgotten form in final repose beside him. Always beside him, no matter where he went. They grow between eternally reaching fingers, up through the cathedral of crumbling ribs, in a halo around the head laid forever in reverence and love at his feet, lively pink and sky blue and purple for him. He lays what once must have been a head, a blushing cheek, the corner of a mouth full of teeth like marble commandments, down upon the crumbling cage of bone. If he searches long enough through the endless annals of his knowledge, he can find the sound of the heart that once beat there. There must have been a voice once. Laughter. A smile. But they’re so far away, buried so deep, and he is so weak.
He wonders if maybe he will be waiting for him, wherever he is going, wherever things like him go, if they have not exchanged existences too many times to do so just once more. He wonders if maybe one day he will close all his myriad eyes for the final time and open them again into a sea of cobalt blue. He wonders if maybe there is peace beyond the stars, if they can both lay their heads down in the silken crystal fires of creation and sleep at last, together. There is a twinge of old excitement in a thing he does not know. There is hope again in that word, maybe. Just maybe. Maybe he can see him again. For now, The Archivist just curls against the remains of that thunderous, bright chest, winds a few tendrils of tape around the half-buried fingers, and waits for extinction. Or a dream. Whichever comes for him first.
And then Jon wakes up with a strangled cry from where he was snuggled into Martin’s chest, eyes wild, streaming with sweat and fighting to fill his lungs with air. Martin catches him immediately, envelops him up in his strong arms and blankets and love and softness, peppers kisses all over his face and brings him back down into the comfort of their bed.
“Shhhh, shhhh… it’s alright, you’re alright, Jon. It was just a nightmare. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a cosmic hymn in the wake of such complete oblivion.
“S-Sorry… I’m sorry,” Jon whispers tremulously into his chest, “It was just… it was awful.”
“I’m sorry, too. D-Did you want to talk about it…?”
Fingers glide through his hair, shedding warped images like sand into the sheets.
“Maybe. I-I… It’s hard to… put into words. Feelings mostly. Not good ones… E-Everything still feels a little fuzzy.”
Martin chuckles a little.
“They say you can tell if you’re dreaming if you try to read. Can’t read in dreams, you know.”
Jon manages a lopsided smirk.
“Is that so?”
There is a stack of books on Martin’s nightstand. Jon does not allow their titles to catch his eye.
“Aren’t you supposed to know everything now, hmmm?”
“What is there to know about dreams? We don’t know why we have them. As far as we know they serve no discernible purpose, they may as well not even exist,” he replies, tetchy academia bleeding into his still sleep-thick voice.
“But they do exist, they are something, a memory, a feeling, a fear…”
“Or all of them at once.”
Silence swells between them, punctuated by the ticking of the clock on the wall. A chaffinch sings an aria somewhere unseen.
“…Are you afraid, Jon?”
“…All the time.”
“Why don’t you have a peek at the clock, then? Clocks can tell you, too. Time doesn’t work right in dreams,” Martin continues sweetly.
Jon does not look.
“You don’t work right in dreams,” he teases instead as the edges of unreality begin to crumble.
“Oh, very original…”
Jon pays for his crimes by being tackled into the mattress and tickled, and he forgets for just a moment, the smell of desiccated plastic and sand in his nostrils and the cool touch-polished bone against his cheek. He forgets with his fingers tangled in russet curls, forgets in their tussling and kissing and laughing in the billowy cloud of their comforter, their bed, forgets until it all bleeds together into a muffled blur in his ears. He steals a furtive glance at the clock on the wall as Martin kisses his neck and shoulder and envelops him utterly.
The second-hand ticks backward just once.
And Jon no longer knows which one of them is having the nightmare, and which one of them is the nightmare.
#The Magnus Archives#TMA#JonMartin#Jmart#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#Magnuspod#Emotober#emotober2021#Crow Writes#Fan fic#CW unreality#reference to major character death
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You still remember where you were when the news that mermaids were real broke, you were sitting in the library trying to catch up on homework when the person next to you suddenly gasps and turns on a video. More annoyed than anything you tried to ignore his commotion and focus, midterms were coming up and nothing could be more important than that. When you got home and turned on the news you had to double check the date to make sure the headline wasn't a prank.
"That's right folks, the existence of mermaids has been confirmed. Mermaids are real."
That was three years ago and now you had a degree in behavioral psychology and were ready to get out there. You had put in applications at every marine research center you could to try and work with a merperson. Just as you were losing hope the Sunshine Rehabilitation Center reached out to you, requesting your help in dealing with a temperamental merman. You accepted it without a second thought and booked the first flight out and today was the day you were finally going to meet your first merperson.
The night before you got the report of who you would be working with, a shark merman by the name of Cyrus. He had beached himself after some fishermen tore up his tail because he started hunting in their fishing grounds. Apparently he is aggressive and distrusts humans to the point he is hindering his own rehabilitation, the people in charge of the center were hoping you could come in and help them with him. You thought you were ready to meet him but you were not prepared to stand in front of a six million gallon tank and a merman over nine foot.
You had seen a tank like this before at Sea World though unlike those tanks this one was set up to look like the ocean. The sand on the bottom of the tank was almost as tall as you, there was a cave built into the tank to give the merman some privacy. Said merman was currently swimming through the tank as best as he could, the wounds on his tail still looked red and painful. From what you can tell he was a Bull Shark meaning he was already aggressive to start with and his injury only added to it, it was no wonder they needed extra help.
Since it was feeding time you would get to see Cyrus up close and personal and while you were excited you were also nervous, Cyrus could very easily snatch you up and drag you into the tank with him if he felt like it. So you decided to watch him from a distance standing as far back on the platform as you could.
"Okay Ms. y/l/n Cyrus gets a little messy when he eats, you don't get sick from a bit of blood do you?" One of the biologists cracked a smile as she teased you, trying to get you to relax a little. It only made you more tense. A couple of the biologists tossed massive chunks of fish into the tank to get Cyrus's attention, he surfaced causing water to flow over onto the observation deck. You've seen some pictures of mermaids online but none of them looked like him, his jawline was so sharp it could cut glass, his eyes are such a deep brown they're almost black. Opening his mouth he reveals sharp teeth that easily shred the flesh of his meal.
Seeing the other people so close to him made you feel a bit more at ease and as you approached him, Cyrus shot a glare at you as he pulled his food into the pool.
~~~~~~~
It's been almost a month since you started working with Cyrus and slowly things were looking up. The first two weeks had been rough, one time he tried to bite your hand off but after you popped his nose out of reflex he straightened up. Since then Cyrus had seemed to become attached to you, always coming to the surface when you climbed the platform, he'd take things from you very gently as opposed to the almost violent way he would take things from other people. It seemed Cyrus had taken to you so much he started bringing you little things inside his habitat which mainly consisted of things he had taken from the other employees or little pieces of his meal. He seemed to be responding well to your time with him and was starting to let the biologists help him. Today however he was acting aggressive again and you didn't know what set him off, his routine hadn't changed at all and he was even ignoring you today.
By the time five rolled around you were fed up with his behavior and ready to go home, almost everyone else had already left so it was just you and two other biologists. You kick your flats off and walk to the edge of the platform to say goodnight to Cyrus it was something you started as a way to build trust but soon turned into second nature for you, once you had rushed out and forgot to tell him good night and it was all you could think about till you came back in. Before you even get to the edge Cyrus is already waiting for you, only his eyes above the water as he watches you approach.
"Goodnight Cyrus, hopefully tomorrow you'll be in a better mood, okay bud? Get some rest!" As you turn to leave a clawed hand shoots out and wraps around you ankle and pulls you to the floor causing you to hit your head stunning you. Cool water engulfs you as Cyrus pulls you to his large chest and swims away from the platform and into the middle of the pool. Once there he rolls onto his back and places you onto his stomach he watches as you cough up the water in your lungs, you place your hands on his hard abs as you steady yourself. Trying to stay calm you talk to him through your hacking "Cyrus *cough* I know you are having a hard day but this isn't appropriate. Now please *cough* take me back to the platform."
The look on his eyes was so intense you start to feel uncomfortable you open your mouth to ask again but Cyrus's hand wraps around your waist as he hoists above his face, and in a swift motion his thumb he pushes your pencil skirt up to your hips and catches your panties and rips them off. You bang your small fists against his hand and he moves you over his mouth, panic shoots through you as you start screaming for the biologists to help you but they just stood there stunned. Logically you knew there wasn't anything they could do but emotionally you were upset that they were about to watch you get eaten. Tears are streaming down your face by the time his tounge slithers out of his mouth and starts to prod at your cunt and before you can react to his actions he plunges it into your tight hole, pushing past your tight muscles. The sudden intrusion burns and you try and push his hand off of your waist but your struggling makes his hold your tighter as he starts to fuck you on his tongue. The painful burn starts to fade into a pleasurable one as his rough appendage rubs against the bundle of nerves inside you, your hips start to grind down against him and he loosens his grip to let you.
Just before the knot in your stomach can snap Cyrus pulls his tongue out of you making a whine escape you, your eyes meet his now almost black eyes. Never breaking eye contact with you Cyrus places you on his waist just below his genital slits. From the cornor of your eyes you see the biologists frantically moving around, in the back of your mind you were hoping they were figuring out how to save you but your hopes were dashed when you saw they were setting up a camera and taking notes. Feeling utterly humilated and betrayed you turn back around to find two erect penises in front of you. They were white and stripped with the same shade of gray on his tail, the penises had to be at least 14 inches. Panic sets in again when he wraps his hand back around your waist and aligns your cunt with the blunt head of one of his cocks.
Trying one last time you try and talk some sense into the horny merman. "Cyrus please it won't fit inside me! You are gonna rip me in half, stop please!" He pauses for a moment and huffs out in annoyance, you breathe a sigh of relief thinking he listened to you, but before your eyes his cock starts to shrink. By the time it stopped he was around ten inches and already pushing inside you. Once again you try to claw at his hand or close your legs anything to stop him from violating you any farther but with a little more pressure from his hand you legs spread open and slams his cock up into you filling you up all at once.
Your head snaps back in both pain as the breath is forces from your body, Cyrus moves you up and down his cock like a fleshlight as he fucks you. His other dick rubs against your clit everytime he brings you down on him the friction sends jolts of pleasure up your spine and soon your slick starts to leak down your thighs as the knot in your stomach starts to build again. Suddenly his member starts to grow inside you and every thought leaves your brain and all you can focus on is how full you can feel. He finally stop when you go ridged in his grip and starts thrusting even faster into you, going so deep inside you could swear he was fucking your womb. Finally the knot snaps and you unravel on top of him, your cunt tightens around him in a vice like grip and with a growl Cyrus cums deep inside you. The cock in front of you erupts as wells and showers you with ropes of hot cum, his grip loosens around you and you slump down onto his body. His cocks softening and retracting from you, Cyrus lays a hand across your back as you come back down to earth. On the brink of consciousness you are vaguely aware of the fact that there are more than two biologists on the platform now. To tired to feel ashamed you close your eyes and let sleep take you.
#detroit become human#yandere#mermay 2021#mermay#dbh cyrus#sharkman cyrus#two dick cyrus#monster fucking#mod beau is a monster fucker#mod beau
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Punch to the Heart (Part 1)
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.
Based on a request you can find here!
Warnings- Crying and a bit of flinching. This is probably my most angsty fic yet, with sprinkles of fluff here and there :)
Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna find more of my work :)
Part 2
“No, I can’t make it.”
“Sorry, I gotta hang out with MJ.”
“Oh, MJ wants to go out for the evening.”
“Of course I can’t come for movie night, MJ and I are going on a date.”
“Hey Pete, I got the snacks here, come on in”, you said, excited to be spending time with your best friend for the first time in weeks.
“Uh, so I can’t stay for movie night. I gotta pick up MJ and we are heading to her house for the night.”
As he said that, you could feel your heart sinking, stomach curling. Peter never used to bail on your plans, let alone not come to movie nights. Before he started dating MJ and fought Mysterio, you two were inseparable. Always joined at the hip. Whether it was Spiderman duties or simple day to day things, you two would always do it together. Through thick and thin.
That was your motto. You and Peter made it when you were young. But perhaps, you could get through thick and thin, but not through MJ…
“What do you mean? We have been planning this for more than a month. Or well, I have”, you said bitterly, rolling your eyes.
“Well, can’t we just reschedule or something. MJ wants me there tonight.”
You scoffed, looking down. “Peter, I’m your best friend and we haven’t hung out in a month. Can’t you just postpone your plans with MJ?”
He sighed, looking annoyed. “Okay, I can’t just bail on MJ!”
“But you have no problem turning me down every time….”
Peter chuckled humourlessly, running his hand through his hair. “But she is my GIRLFRIEND Y/N!”
“So that’s just an excuse now?” you asked, taking a step back when he yelled.
“Look, it’s not my fault that I want to spend time with my girlfriend. So stop always trying to get attention, and for gods sakes, stop being so fucking clingy!” Peter shouted, throwing his arm back. You stood still, stunned. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you looked down. You wanted to say something, a backhand comment, something to redeem your dignity, but all you let out was a choked sob. Suddenly, Peter looked up, recognition on his face as he reached out to you. But just as he was going to touch you, you flinched, stepping further away from him.
Hurt burst through his face when he saw what you were doing. “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”
“Just go, Peter. You already know how to…” you whispered, arms wrapping around your frame. You felt a fresh batch of tears forming, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. So you turned around, grabbed the door handle, and turned to see him, heartbreaking in two as you saw the flowers he had held behind his back for MJ.
“I’ll stop being a clingy best friend. Hell, I’ll just stop being a best friend.” And with that, you walked in, shutting the door behind you before crumbling to the ground.
The smell of fresh sandwiches was in the air, the kind from Delmar. You knew Peter liked them, so you had gone and bought some for your movie night. But now, the sight of them made you curl up as you cried softly into your arms.
A part of you hoped Peter would come back, knock on the window and say that he had dumped MJ and was ready to spend time with you. Alas, life doesn’t always go the way you hoped it would, since, within minutes, you heard the familiar WHAP of his web. That was the first night in years that you cried yourself to sleep….
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“Ugh”, you mumbled as your eyes tried to adjust to the bright yellow light streaming in through the window. “Mom, close it!”
“Nope, you have to get up! This pity party of yours has been going on for too long. You’ve stayed in bed the entire weekend. You have to go to school today!” Your mom stood up, yanking your cover out of your bed. She sighed, looking at your bedridden head and dark circles. “How late did you stay up till?”
You sighed, leaving the warm embrace of your bed. “Just till one”
Your mom clasped your shoulder, pulling you up gently. “Okay I don’t know what happened, but I have a plate of bacon and egg on the table. Go have a shower and then get some breakfast.” She ruffled your hair. “A full stomach makes a happy person” She winked at you before walking out of your room.
You pulled yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, shedding your clothes. Stepping under the war water, you let your worries flow away with the mascara marks that were stuck on your face. Running your fingers through your tangled hair, you promised yourself Peter wouldn’t see you break down today. Drying off, you walked out of the room, dressed in some of your comfortable clothes. Quickly eating your breakfast, you left for school, wanting to get there before everyone else arrived. You ran up the stairs, going straight to the library. You didn’t have a busy day, actually, you had only 2 classes today but quite a bit of work to do… Since you had something else to do on the weekend.
Tossing your books down, you grabbed a chair, getting your notebook out to start writing. Time passed as you did your work, your hand aching but you didn’t care. For some reason, you couldn’t immerse yourself in you studies.
As if on cue, your “reason” walked through the door, heading straight for your table. You acted as if you couldn’t see him, staring down at your scribbles. Hearing his feet get closer, you tense up, breathing heavily.
“Your heartbeat is getting faster, so it’s kinda useless trying to avoid me…”, Peter said, towering over you. Furrowing your eyebrows, you glared up at him, not saying a word, worried about what might come out of your mouth. Peter sighed, sitting down. You looked at him warily. He didn’t say anything else, just continued to stay quiet and stare at his lap.
Okay, you thought, starting to pack up your things, If he doesn’t want to talk, then neither should I.
You stood up, an as if Peter saw you for the first time, he reached out grabbing your wrist, making you flinch back. “Sorry”, he muttered, retracting his arm. “Sorry”, he said again, looking you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been spending time with you, and blowing you off everytime. I just- uh, MJ is my first girlfriend. Ever. And I just don’t want to screw this up.”
You scoffed at his words, looking away. “So you would rather screw up a friendship of 8 years than say no to your girlfriend of two months?”
Peter shook his head, trying to find the right words. “I-I don’t want to stop spending time with you just because MJ is now part of my life. Plus, I miss our movie nights…”
You contemplated it, staring at Peter’s soft puppy eyes he was giving you.
“Okay, fine. It’s okay, I know I can be clingy sometimes, and I’m sorry-”
“You’re not clingy! At all. I’m sorry I said that.”, Peter said hurriedly.
“I just don’t want to lose my best friend Pete. Even when we went to Europe you ignored me. And I know it was because of Beck, but after that, it was always MJ this or MJ that!”
Peter hung his head down, not responding. You sighed again, staring at him. “It’s fine Peter. Let’s just try and make time, alright?”
Peter nodded, smiling hesitantly at you before opening his arms. Smiling back at him, you hugged him, feeling the warmth of his body for the first time in days. You felt him nuzzle his head into your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin, leaving a tingling sensation. Without even thinking about it, you whispered softly into his shirt. “I love you Peter Parker.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you tensed up, but Peter didn’t respond. You relaxed, as he probably didn’t hear it.
You could’ve stayed with Peter for hours, but then his phone started ringing loudly, He let go, sheepishly smiling at the annoyed librarian. Looking at his screen, you saw a picture of his and MJ, with her kissing his cheek, way too close to his mouth. Turning away, you tried to concentrate on anything else but Peter’s voice as he picked up the phone, words of love and admiration flowing out.
Hearing what MJ was saying, you leaned closer. “Where are you Peter? It’s been 15 min.”
Peter didn’t say anything for a moment, looking back at you, which made you look away. “I’m just doing something. I’ll be right there…”
He turned around to you, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later though, right?”
Nodding at him, you pulled your books out again, and watched him walk out quickly, a bounce in his step. You hoped you would see him later, that he would keep his promise of spending time with you, that he would stand up to MJ and tell her that he wanted to hang out with you. But for the second time in a few days, you were wrong. So bloody wrong. And this broken promise would definitely be a punch to the heart…
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Ooh, I really liked this one! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋
Tag List: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326
#peter parker x reader imagine#peter parker x bestfriend reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#angst#fluff#smut#crying#reader angst#mj#peter parker x mj#michelle jones
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summary: In his eyes she was fearless, strong and beautiful like the sea. But the darkest places of the ocean are yet to be discovered.
warnings: Fem!Reader, Toxic!Draco depression, fighting, abuse, screaming and crying, suicidal thoughts, suicide, small mention of sexual stuff and blood
Soreness went through her bones each day she woke up. Barely enough energy to carry through the day. She stopped caring about herself, trying to focus on her grades and make at least her teachers proud. Even if Snape is the last one to be proud of a student. She hated it, she hated herself and everyone around her. No more motivation to be like her Mother, whom she always admired.
Yet she still carried her head high. Wiping tears when no one is looking. Faking a laugh or two through dinner. Thoughts drifting off to the sweet relief of heaven; But from the outside, she was still the same. Still his Y/N. Draco didn’t notice. Always making rude remarks towards Gryffindors with their friends. Reading in the common room while she was up crying. Sometimes she wondered if he was still in love with her or only the idea of them.
The sapphire necklace layed on top of her collarbones. It shined so beautifully in the soft light of the moon. “Eternity” engraved on the back side. Draco knew her favorite color was blue. He got her the expensive piece of jewelry two month after their first date. It was the first time he told her that he was in love with her. They were that couple in Hogwarts. Everybody knew about them. She even met his parents, they liked her. Narcissa, of course, adored her, always making her a cup of tea while gossiping.
Y/N loved reliving those memories, they made her happy for a few seconds. She wonders what changed, but now everything was falling apart. She misses the notes Draco used to leave before heading out. She misses random kisses in the halls, she misses him, her Draco.
The black lake at night was her special place. She felt home there. Smooth sounds of water, moon light reflecting. Often she just sat there and thought. She once brought Draco. In her head it was a good idea, maybe he would like it too. The night ended in an argument.
Disagreements had started in the second year of dating. Both of them started to grow up, having different opinions. At first the fights were harmless. Things both of them got over within minutes. Nowadays it’s a different story. Screaming, crying and ignoring is normal to them.
A week ago she sat at her desk in her dorm room. Potions book laying flat on the table as she had both hands on her temples. She never understood why potions must be so damn hard. She turned her head around to see her boyfriend walking through the door. “He looks angry” she thought. He threw himself on the bed and Y/N continued her hopeless studying.
“Y/N”, he said. Without turning around she answered a flat “What?”.
“Did you gain weight?” he asked bluntly.
Her mouth fell open a bit. He couldn’t be serious. He knew she was insecure about her body. Many nights she cried to him about that. But still she gave herself to him completely. She felt weird being naked in front of him, but he always assured her that she was beautiful. “Beautiful” she thinks, when’s the last time he called her that..?
“Excuse me?” She spitted out, not caring how rude her tone was.
“You heard me” He responded.
On that evening their biggest fight happened. Y/N crying while Draco screaming.
“W-What did I do wrong..?” she asked, shaky voice, cheeks stained with tears.
“STOP MAKING EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF!” Draco screamed at her for the fifth time that night.
Everything was blurry, tears streaming out of her eyes, not seeming to stop. She wanted it to stop, she wanted him to stop. When he took a step closer to her she reacted. The constant screaming scared her. Pushing his chest roughly away so there was space between them again. Usually he wanted to end arguments with sex. She didn’t. But that’s how it always went. They argue until she cries, he fucks her and they never talk about it again. But not this time.
As soon as she pushed him away he grabbed her by her collar. Noses almost touching as she says “Draco.. I can’t.” He looked offended “What do you mean you can’t, you always can.” She swallowed, took a breath and tried to answer confidently “No Draco, I don’t want to have sex with you after every argument, your dick won’t make up for fucking up our relationship.”
“You are such a bitch.” Draco answered, looking even madder than before. “You slowly are becoming your father, Draco.” Y/N answered as she looked him directly in the eyes. This crossed his line. He grabbed her collar even tighter as he threw her against the wall with full force.
“I WILL NEVER BE LIKE MY FATHER!” He screamed, not seeming to notice that Y/N was laying on the floor, head bleeding. He still didn’t stop. Throwing things on the floor, destroying objects that once were fragile.
A few moments later he finally realized. His bleeding, crying girlfriend on the floor. He stood there for a few seconds, watching her whine in pain as a couple tears fell down his cheek. Hurrying to kneel next to her, cupping her cheeks, whispering apologies over apologies.
She woke up in the nursery next morning. Draco by her side, she saw flowers and a couple gift bags on the side table. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“Thank merlin you are awake!” he exclaimed, eyes shiny with tears.
“I am so so sorry Y/N, i overreacted and, well you know how i react if someone mentions my father. I should have never touched you in any way. I feel incredibly terrible. I brought you some flowers and-“
“Draco” she interrupted. “You can’t be serious.”
“What..? Why, Y/N you know I love you.” he cried.
She thought it was funny seeing him cry for her. He never did, so he actually must feel bad. But with what he did, he went too far. She can’t keep doing this, not with him at least. Or not at all.
“Cry me a fucking river, Draco.” She laughed as she got up, not caring about her head hurting or the strange dress she’s wearing.
Her and Draco haven’t really spoken since, everyone still thinks their together. She was now sitting at her special place once again. A full moon night, her favorite. White long night gown her mother gave her covering her legs. She drops the sapphire necklace on the stones.The cold water hits her feet as she went into the lake. Deeper and deeper.
She feels free, fearless. Moon light rays are visible to the dark water. Blue, Dark blue that’s all she sees. Night gown flowing up as she sinks deeper. Letting herself fall completely till she sees nothing but dark blue. Her favorite color, she thinks one last time before drifting away into a painless place.
“Eternity.”
-J
#draco fanfiction#draco fluff#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy smut#draco smut#draco x reader#draco x you#dracotok#hogwarts#harry potter one shot#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter
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