#WHIPPED this out ✨

[stardestroyer81]

After many a shovel-swinging adventure throughout the Valley of Landurr, it's always nice to kick back and relax at a billowing campfire with the friends you've made along the way.

💙 Happy 10th Anniversary, Shovel Knight!!! 💙

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[autumnapricot]

autumn nico mentioning the valentino and marc 2015 incident at f1 comms today oh my days i was not prepared to be whacked into the face like that

live laugh love rosquez, these mfers are always at the crime scenes somehow

attempted murder divorce so iconic it‘s referenced in another sport ten years later, what can one even say…bless them

[deus-ex-mona]

so which lipxlip songs are canonically about each other? like last stage or samishigariya

hi! tbh it’s kinda hard to tell for some songs? but from what i can tell, without counting the songs you’ve already mentioned,

for lxl duets there’s hitsuyou fukaketsu, yume fanfare, judge⭐︎ (to a degree), rodeo (in the sense that they’re singing about having each other’s backs), and meoto (to a degree with regards to their present idol selves). maybe yappa saikyou too, if you squint?

though there’s also their first solos (seika and yellow), which both start off with a backstory reveal in the first verse, followed by (what seems to be) a recount of how their personal circumstances changed thanks to meeting each other… or so it seems to me anyway?

either way lxl canon you agree y/y—

[eatanorange]

the funniest thing about the incessant pursuit of a man I’ve expressed disinterest to more than once is he just wordlessly sent me a video of himself playing a mandolin??

[mercurial-chuckles]

Yield to me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (ft. adventurous Alpine) WC: ~950 ish Warnings: Fluff | Reader rescues a kitten | Whipped Bucky | Roommates-to-lovers trope | Mutual pining | Yet-to-be-named kitten (Alpine) being adventurous | Reader being reckless | Metal-armed supersoldier to the rescue | Concerned Bucky | Angry Bucky | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I missed anything! A/N: This is my submission for Hot Bucky Summer 2025 | Week 01 Prompt: Mind your own damn business" | @buckybarnesevents Thank you for hosting. 😊✨🥹💞 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. Banner & Divider made by me. Picture credits to Pinterest. Check out my other works: Masterlist Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Indulge Away!

You got this.

Taking a deep breath and mustering some courage, you took another careful step. The ledge creaked, making you wobble.

Fuck. Fuck.

Maybe not.

In theory, it had looked so fucking doable from your bedroom window, but in reality, it was a monumentally bad idea.

Shit. What now?

Meow.

"Hold on, baby," You muttered, clinging to the window frame because it was the only thing stopping you from plummeting five floors down. The kitten let out another meow as it clung to the edge, two tiny paws already slipping from the sill.

"THE FUCK DO YA THINK YOU'RE DOIN?"

You nearly slipped from the shock of Mrs. Batton's screeching up at you from the fourth floor. She was out of her window, puffing on a cigarette.

"Nothing," you called back with a wince, trying to calm yourself while adjusting your grip on the narrow ledge.

Adrenaline surged as you took another shaky step, inching closer to the terrified furball. Your neighbors were out of town. Otherwise, you could have saved her from the inside of their apartment. But that wasn't an option. It'd also be too late to call 911. And your supersoldier roommates weren't home. So your only shot had been sliding over the tiny ledge from your apartment, and now here you were.

"How in the world did you get there?" You wondered out loud, looking at the kitten.

You'd seen her once in the lobby earlier this week on your way to the mailroom. She'd come right up to you, and you'd cuddled with her for a moment until a couple of people walked in. Then she jumped out of your arms and ran off. You tried to follow her but eventually lost sight of her. You'd assumed she belonged to someone in the building. However, with the strict no-pets policy, you'd wondered who was sneaking one in.

The kitten scrambled, mewling helplessly. You lunged, snatching her into your arms just as her back paws lost hold. She yowled and clung to your shirt with tiny, sharp claws, burrowing into your neck.

"It's okay, sweet girl. You're safe," you whispered, heart pounding otherwise, still clinging to the frame with one arm as you assessed your next move.

Shit. You did not think this through.

That's when Mrs. Batton shouted again, "ARE YOU GONNA JUMP?! SHOULD I CALL 911?"

Meow.

"Gosh! Mind your own damn business!" you snapped, a little harsh, maybe. You'd apologize later with some cookies. If you lived.

You glanced at the fire escape just a few feet away. Four steps. Four steps, and you could land safely on the platform, slide back into your room, and question your and the little kitten's insane life choices.

Bravely, you took one more step. Nope, you couldn't make it. Maybe you should ask Mrs. Batton to call the cops.

"Have you lost your goddamn mind?"

Oh no.

You whipped your head around, nearly losing your balance in the process.

"Bucky?"

He stood there, phone to his ear, half out of your window, tactical suit still on, staring at you horrified.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, pocketing his mobile and climbing onto the fire escape. You, meanwhile, were clinging to the frame with a sweaty hand. Bucky rarely spoke to you in that tone. You'd seen him use that tone on Steve on various occasions, a privilege of sharing a flat with two super soldiers.

"I…"

Meow.

Your arms tightened around her.

"She was about to fall, Bucky," you shouted unnecessarily. With enhanced senses, he could hear just fine, but your ears were ringing loudly, scared out of your wits.

Bucky looked livid. It made your stomach drop to the ground, promising to take you along.

"Hold on tight," he ordered. Your pulse tripped unhealthily.

He jumped onto the tiny sill and held out his metal hand. You nodded at him and then tried to hand the kitten to Bucky, but she clung to you, claws ripping into the fabric of your shirt and skin tightly.

"Don't worry, baby. He's got you. You're safe," You cooed.

He gently took the kitten from your arms. The little thing curled against his metal arm, and he brought her to his chest instantly.

You both exhaled in relief. One crisis managed.

You shifted your footing, trying to prepare for your own escape, but Bucky's sharp voice stopped you cold.

"Don't fucking move."

Your breath caught, and your heart galloped.

You didn't dare argue. Not like you were in a great state to do so anyway.

He secured the kitten inside your room, sliding the window mostly shut so she wouldn't wander out again. And now he was headed back for you.

"Take my hand," he said urgently, stretching out his gloved palm, his eyes locked on yours. You hesitated.

"I'll never let you fall," he added softly, and somehow your stomach did a cocktail of dance forms.

"Do you trust me, doll?"

"I do, Bucky. It's just my hands are clammy, and that section is a little wonky…"

He glanced at the spot you indicated and back at you. The twitch in his jaw was clear from where you were standing.

Bucky groaned, evaluating the situation. Then, he placed his feet back on the fire escape railing, turned around gracefully, and leaped onto the ledge beside you.

Were you not hanging on the edge, you'd be swooning at that seductive move right there. But mooning over your crush could prove fucking lethal right now.

Bracing himself with his right hand on the fixture of your window, Bucky stretched out his metal arm again. Sweet baby Jesus! He was tall, alright.

"Gimme your hand," he said, voice strained.

You whimpered shakily and reached out, terrified that your sweat-slicked fingers might doom you both.

Bucky didn't reach for your palm but took your elbow and pulled you close, and you were airborne for a few seconds before being pressed against him. His metal arm wound around you tightly, and you could feel his muscles rippling as he straightened out.

"Fuck!" He muttered, sighing into the crook of your neck. "I've got you. Close your eyes for me, okay?" he said.

"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, and you did. You buried your face into his chest. God! He was strong and smelled so damn fine. You were giddy that you felt so fucking safe in his arms.

Bucky swung you both to safety on the fire escape landing.

"Holy shit." You let out a breathless, nervous laugh.

But before you could wiggle out of his arms, Bucky held you, guiding you toward your window. He sat you down on the sill, his palm flexed roughly on your thigh, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. Then, he hugged you.

You felt his whole body shaking, breath coming out ragged, his sharp nose tickling the expanse of your shoulder and neck, making your heart plummet.

You tried to say something, but honestly, you were breathless. All you could do was wrap your hands around him, hoping to calm him. This was the first time you had this much body contact with Bucky. It had always been a small touch of fingers when passing a glass or a plate. You'd always been mindful to respect his personal space.

You let out a gasp, your face heating up when he squeezed your sides.

His rough, fingerless-gloved fingers tilted your chin up, daring you to meet his gaze, and you did, reluctantly. His blue eyes were so intense, they made you shudder.

"You're okay," he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. Then, he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, making you freefall into the perfection that was Bucky.

You blinked up at him, utterly and irrevocably taken aback. Because Bucky minded his business, mostly, while you'd been rotting in your one-sided affections for him. This display of his worry left you gaping.

And right then, he grumbled softly, "God! You're a worse punk than Steve." A nervous, surprised chuckle escaped you without your volition.

"I'm gonna seal that damn window shut. Never do that to me again. You understand?" he growled against your lips, his nose grazing yours.

With all that intense, barely restrained anger absolutely entrancing you, you nodded dumbly.

Well?

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

If you'd like to be tagged/removed from my works, please do so here.

[dragonsoulage]

When they are drunk on it -

feat. Neji Hyuga, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha

Here we have some handsome shinobi men, all of them addicted and can’t help themselves when they feel you around them in the best way possible. Pūssy drunk might be the words what describes them when they have you in their hands.

Hello world, it’s me being back, this time with more of a thirst like thing here. I picked out 5 of our beloved men and decided to write some smutty smut ✨🌚 so I hope you enjoy 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Wordcount: 4,7k

Warnings: Sm*t, p in v, pūssy drunk men, praising, sometimes a little degrading

MDNI

Neji Hyuga ~ Got him surprisingly hooked…

„Keep moving, baby." you heard him and hell was he whipped. You were his precious girl on top of him. Dragging your cute pussy up and down his shaft. These cute pants because you draw out of breath. His right hand glued to your hip. His gaze solemnly locked onto your face. Sometimes dropping watching how enticingly your gorgeous tits bounced for him.

„I... I can't baby. My legs..." you stuttered, but your cute reply followed by a sweet moan. And then you could listen to a snicker of him. Neji never just snickered or grinned, just like he did now. Every time he fucked you, he was a little rough because he knew you liked it. But after that training today, you offered to ride him. Little did you know he enjoyed it so much that it had been hours now. He stuffed your puffy pussy full of his cum. Enjoying how it dribbled out of you. Every few moments, he dragged his thumb down your slit. How your pussy tried to take his dick. The little shudder you did when he wiped over your soaping wet clit.

But now, he was drunk on that pussy. He couldn't stop, nor did he want to stop. No matter how composed Neji truly was when it was about you, especially now you were being on top of him. He can't deny that he loved watching you like this. The feel of your little cunt squeezing him, and fluttered when he dragged the curve of his dick right to the spot where you needed it.

When he grabbed your hips just to slam you down a little more. Just to listen how your wet pussy would be squelching around him. To watch how a creamy ring formed around his base.  

Neji usually never the one who talked much. Indeed, he tried to keep his noises in check. No matter how hot you think he was, he always thought he wouldn't deserve a girlfriend like you. And then have her so pretty spread out for him. Sometimes when you were lucky he praised you and calling you „a good girl" before he smacked your ass, just how he knew you liked it.

But right now? The groan he let out, the way his head fell in the pillows. You tried to keep up with his stamina, a cute try, but you couldn't. Legs and thighs already shaking. Your pussy still so sloppy from all the cumming.

„I said keep moving. Want this pretty pussy to cum again." he said, he just noticed how wet you seemed to get when he talked to you like this. Grabbing a good chunk of your ass when he leaned forward now.

„I need her to cum again, feels so good when she is....ah, trying to milk every last bit." his jaw clenched slightly. You felt so good being wrapped around him. So warm and soft and so fucking wet. You felt how he ground you against him. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis, making your hands lay on his chest. As you tried to steady yourself.

„Her?" you asked, a little blush on your cheeks, and not just because his thick cock was inside you. He didn't want you to stop. To satisfied with the way you bounced on top of him. Too mesmerized how your sweet pussy was taking every mean inch of him. Every drag he made you do on his dick was just getting meaner. But damn he was pussy drunk. „Yes, this sweet pussy of yours."

Usually when his sweet girl couldn't take it any longer, he was a gentleman, flipping you over to pound into you in the best way possible. But not today. Not when he had his girl so sloppy on top of him.

"Such a messy girl, you are. So sloppy and wet." he stated with a husky tone, god he was gone. He felt too good right now.

„Please, Neji." *you added, but he just grabbed your waist, giving you a hold before he made you slam down his dick over and over again. His hips bucking up into your welcoming heat.

And then you heard him groan, his lavender eyes rolling back, pretty lips parted slightly.

„Feels too good, your pussy feels too good." he said, his voice strained with the effort to not just whine, but the feeling how your walls grabbing him was too good, so he failed.

„Sooo tight." he added, and you heard a gasp from his throat. Yourself being busy with moaning. Already felt the next orgasm approaching....aware this wouldn't be the end of this. He would fuck you long enough until you would being sore the next morning. 

Shikamaru Nara ~ Taking his sweet time…

Shikamaru was a man, when he was pussy drunk he wouldn't just rut into you because it felt so good. He was a man who appreciated every little move your cute pussy made. Savoring the feeling, so sensual, it had you being impatient and needy.

Thighs spread as he grabbed with both hands the back of them, spreading them just a little more apart. A low groan was coming out of his mouth. Eyes locked with your pussy and how pretty your petals part for him, as he sunk into you, so slow. Every inch, slowly inserting to let you feel every curve and vein of him. Your lips shaped in a pretty ‚o' hoping he would finally fuck you how you needed it. Because this was like the nth time, he just slowly pushed inside you to pull out completely and doing it all over again. And this time not just for teasing no, he enjoyed your cunt to the fullest, the way it fit so snugly around him.

„Shikaaaa." you pouted and this was then the only time he took his dark eyes away from your pussy. A hand coming to lay on your cheek, thumb gazing your bottom lip.

„Stop pouting, let me savor this...perfect pussy." he said to you, already aware how needy you were. Alone the way your juices flowed out, the way you clenched around his tip when he pushed into you so damn slowly.

„Can't a man enjoy his girl's pussy, hm?" his breath tickled your ear when he leaned down. And then with a little harder thrust making you moan. He was mean.

„You do this for hours. I need you, why you are so mean." you spoke, but it was followed by a small gasp when his other hand came to drag a thumb over your clit, making your eyes close shortly.

„Is it my fault when someone got a cunt that is squeezing me in the most delicious way?" he asked, making you tremble when his thumb circled your clit over and over again so slow. You felt his fat cock pulsing inside you. As you tried to drag down your pussy just a little more. „It's just so addicting, sweetheart. You can't blame me, can you?" he purred before you finally felt that he was starting to move. Still a slow and sensual pace. Shikamaru nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck before you heard that deep groan in your ear, that made you so fucking wet. He sounded so sexy when he was enjoying you to his fullest.

Your fingers went to his hair, gently tugging on the strands that still were bound in his signature ponytail. You felt every vein on his shaft, and slowly he gave in to it, you what you craved so much. Your boyfriend stopped fucking you so lazy after he savored every little clench and flutter of your tight wet heat.

„Feels already better." you sighted cute, and he started to pick up more pace. Licking over your salty, sweet skin on your neck. Hands laying on your hips before he dragged his shaft all the way in just to bottom out and slam into you.

„God, Shika." you whined already. It was always like this, complaining when he teased you too much but whining when he finally started fucking you. Really fucking you. You were even better than watching clouds. Watching how your pretty tits bounced when he slammed into you was a sight to behold for him.

The way your heated skin clung to his. Or when you threw your arms over his shoulders. This was the moment he got so lost in your perfect little cunt.

„Fuck...look at that always so greedy and needy and when I give in you start whining." he murmured with a growl nipping on the sensitive skin behind your ear making you shudder. Then he decided to get a little up, grabbing your hips just a little tighter. Before he gave into the feeling of your heavenly cunt and started pounding. Head fell in the back of his neck. Exposing his adam apple that bobbed when he swallowed thickly because only you and your pretty little pussy could make him feel like this.

You were just shortly able to take in this sight. The way his body looked so good covered in a little sweat from the hours he just wanted to feel you wrapped around him. Your juices all over his cock. Your fingers laid against his lower abdomen, when he now was just able to use you how he saw fit and needed it.

„Gorgeous fucking girl, feeling so good around me. Makes me nearly lose my...urgh composure." he muttered under his breath, just seconds before you could listen to that whine what escaped his parted lips. Just to gave you a particular hard thrust after this.

He was so pussy drunk now. Lost in that heat that took every inch of him so well. Your pussy sucking in his dick. Your lazy boyfriend who just got so addicted to the feeling of you around him.

Thick cock pounding you now extra hard after that whine that he let out. Although, he didn't deny that you made him feel this good. As if every expectation that were placed on him fell off his shoulders. Just you and him and this damn good feeling of you squeezing him. The lewd squelches of your sex and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

„Nearly? I am sure I heard you whine." you panted a little cheeky and this was the moment he looked down at you. Before he decided to push the digit of his thumb in your mouth. To make you shut up and giving you something to be busy.

You sucked on his thumb, delicate plump lips wrapped around the thick digit as you looked so pretty fucked out while he could continue to get just more high on your dripping pussy.

„What a drag when pretty girl is being so cocky. You should learn to think before you open these beautiful lips to speak." was the only thing he said to you before his free hand slapped your pussy, making contact with your clit. Just to listen to the next whine you let off, followed by a deep groan. Making his eyes roll back in bliss before he continued to fuck you just how he needed it when he was this whipped by you.

Naruto Uzumaki ~ Drilling you with no end…

„Just the tip, baby, please." he let out, groaning again when his weeping tip smeared his pre cum over the hot slit of your pussy. When Naruto was pussy drunk, he fucks like nothing else.

He already made you cum three times in a row. Himself spilling his seed into you and well he had so much energy he simply needed you and his pretty girls pussy that felt so damn good around him.

And now, after your last shattering orgasm, you nearly crawled away from him. His hand laid on your plush rear, dragging you back to him. Angry red tip brushing over your clit, making your back arch just a little more.

„Baby, I don't know if I can take it." you pouted, and yet he felt how you leaned a little into his touch.

Naruto was aware how greedy he had been. But what should he do? He loved you, and he loved stuffing your pussy full of him. You were just so soft and when he was inside you, shit, he couldn't help then to just push his length in these dripping walls of yours and make you all these cute little noises he liked so much. He enjoyed watching your ass a little jiggle when he trusted inside you.

The blonde boy leaned over your back. His chest pressed against your skin. One hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Breath tickling your ear.

„You always take me so good, sweetheart. I just can't help it when you bend over sooooo..." he started before he made his tip disappear inside your weeping right entrance. Making you gasp and lift your had a little.

„....pretty and inviting. Your cute pussy begs me to put it inside, you know?" he ended his sentence just to listen to the lewd, sloppy squelch of your cunt.

Naruto was always a golden retriever boyfriend. Full of energy and happy, trying to make you happy for sure. But hell, when he was so whipped with your creamy pussy. He just couldn't stop.

Having you all bend over so nicely. Ass on display, ready for him to grab your soft skin, pull you back onto his dripping dick.

"I know? You say this for like the third time. I will be so sore tomorrow." you whimpered, but your pussy spread so willingly to let more inside than just his fat tip.

His dick was slightly curved, dragging along your gripping walls.

Naruto hissed as soon as he felt how you already clenched around him. He couldn't wait, of course not, Whenever could someone like Naruto wait and be patient without just going after his instinct?

With a gentle tug on your hips his whole length, sheathed in that familiar warmth, coating his cock, making him feel all the more butterflies in his tummy...or more his balls, perhaps.

You gasped and draw a sharp breath, your hands fisting the messy sheets underneath you.

"The fourth, actually, pretty. That's the fourth time. And you just feel even more better. Shit..." he corrected you, of course he counted, as if ever would pass the chance to count the times he fucked you, raw and how often you came all over his pretty dick.

At least he gave you a moment, adjusting so snugly to him. As if you would mold into the perfect shape for him. His cute girlfriend never failed to please him. Never failed to look so good in his sky blue eyes.

This man would ravish you anytime of the day. You wore a hoodie and having messy hair? Damn, you looked hot to him, hands grabbing under the thick fabric.

You made yourself pretty because you went out? Well, he would need just to show you how much he adored your cute outfit.

But now? Hell, it was just in the morning, you not even made it out of bed before. Technically, he wanted to make you some cute breakfast. The one time he was sooner awake than you. He could be the cutest dork ball. But when he tried to wake you up, watching how your shirt slipped up, exposing your ass to him, it was over.   

So instead of feeding you breakfast, he fed you 7 inches of his dick. Making your eyes wide, and he just loved hearing your cute little 'ah' over and over again. This pussy got him hooked right in the morning, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed your hips nearly bruising as soon as he was inside you and gave you this short amount of time to adjust again he started to rut into you, so fast. His own eyes crossing.

"I never get tired of this, I swear. You're just so wet...and take me so well. You are such a good princess, you know? My pretty princess with even a more pretty pussy." he started to babble, to tell yo how good you were to him while he rearranged your guts again and again.

He always praised you so sweet as if he wouldn't fuck the shit out of you, in the early morning.

"Na-Naruto. Slow...ah slow down." you panted but as answer? Oh, he gently pushed your head in the mattress, of course before he ever does that he had asked you if this was ok with you. Since you told him you liked it when he was a little rough. And now? God, he wanted to hear your pussy talk to him, and he couldn't slow down at all, not when you were wrapped around him like this.

Yourself starting to drool by the way his dick was drilling inside you.

"Sorry, baby, I give you...fuck. I give you the best aftercare you can wish for, but I need you like this now. Bend over and drilling into this snug cunt of yours." he told you, groaning before he got lost inside your depth all over again. 

Kakashi Hatake ~ „You can give me another one…“

Sensei knows what he is doing, so aware, he won't stop so soon. Having his sweet girl in a mean mating press, having you in such a tight grip when he bends your knees down to your chest.

Watching how your jaw hung slack, and your eyes looked at him in shock that it was already the third time he came inside you, not even flinching to just fuck his cum right back into you.

"Kashi..." you tried to speak, but you were made shut up when his girthy dick stretched you out so delicious, making you throb so needy and yet so breathless.

"You do so great for me, sweetheart." he praised, his voice so steady and filled with adoration. He loved his girl, oh he did, so much. But he also loved the way you were able to stretch around him, how your pink pussy parts for him. The way you always whined how you couldn't anymore, but your pretty cunt told him something different.

He sank down his dick as he just put more weight into you, until he was inside you to the hilt. Pelvis grinding against you, making you shudder and roll your eyes back when the gentle curve hit your cervix. These white silver hairs from his happy trail tickling your puffy folds.

Making you all the way more desperate for him.

"You said you would be done...darling." you breathed when you tried to not just cum again like a whore just because he put his dick back into your dripping entrance.

Before he said something you could listen to the husky small chuckle, before he pulled down his mask, just to flash you a small smirk. Before he spit down, a stream of spit right onto your aching clit.

Leaning just a little more over to look you right in your wide doe eyes before his hand found the way between your thighs, slowly smearing his spit along your swollen nub, making you whimper.

"Just one more time, my sweet. I just love getting you so full, you always have this adorable pout." he said, and you could listen that even when he seemed to be so composed, hell Kakahsi was gone.   

You gripped him so tight, making it hard for him to not just pound into you all over again, giving you a little time to relax...as far as this is possible with his thick cock inside you. Muscles flexing when he grabbed your thigh tighter pressing you down and literally folding you in half in a sweet, sweet mating press.

After all, he liked seeing it when you took every ounce of his cum inside you. Every creamy string that he shoot into your womb, nothing would go to waste, right? Well, he simply fucked it back into you. Kakahsi was so drunk from your pussy that he only managed to let out a shaky groan, while he continued to rub over your nub.

And there it was this little pout he adored so much, just then he decided to move again.

Dragging his pulsating cock along your inner walls. Nearly bottoming out so just the tip remained inside, before he gave you a long deep stroke.

Lips parting to moan for him. 

"See you take me so well, how can I not want to see this expression of yours? You are such a good girl for me, aren't you?" his voice like some sinful silk wrapping around you, making you nod with teary eyes when he started to fuck you, it was not that fast, but he was so deep. Savoring your tight passage in the best way possible.

"Come on, tell me how good you want to be for me, yeah? You can do that right. Use your words, darling." he urged you, making you whimper again with the next thrust of his hips.

Thumb circled your clit with such a precision it made it so hard for you to think about words. Your skin flushed when he talked like this.

"Want to be....nghh good for you." you managed to say, earning a low rumble in his chest that was a chuckle, before his pickup his pace just a little, both hands on your thighs now. Looking right into your face.

"And good girls, can take one more. Just one more pretty orgasm, one more shudder of your pretty pussy. So shamelessly spread for me." he whispered against your lips then, not kissing you yet, although you wanted him to.

A little loving tease he was. Giving you the meanest treatment with his cock that was pulsating inside you, and yet he cooed you into a soothing balm of his voice.

Indeed, he groaned again at the feeling how you started to clench, and flutter around him. Increasing his pace now, hips snapping against yours. Even when he was not breaking a sweat doing this, but oh you felt so good to him, he couldn't get enough.

"Ahhh god... I am-" you didn't manage to speak properly, eyes rolling back. And you couldn't help to loll your tongue out. Kakashi loved to see you like this, so fucked out, and yet your pussy didn't get enough.

"Hmm, such a cute little slut for me, cumming all along my cock... So adorable." he cooed while looking down at you. Pussy feeling too hot, too slick and too good. Even when he said one more...it wasn't just one more before he fucked you through the next orgasm all over again and would pump you so full of his own cum....  

Itachi Uchiha ~ Falling simply more in love…

When Itachi was pussy drunk, god, he couldn't help then to hold you close, feeling your hot skin against his. Can't even believe that this cute girl was all his. That you let him have this heavenly access to the paradise between your legs. Hands grabbing everywhere where they could reach, kissing your skin, cooing the sweet little nothing's in your ear, while you took his mean, mean dick all the way inside. Itachi had you in reverse cowgirl now. Your plush rear so pretty on display watching how your pink pussy stretched around his length. How you swallowed every delicious inch of him, again and again and again.

Making the shinobi groan in adoration. He never had seen a more beautiful sight. Although, it was hard for him to decide if he liked it more to see your beautiful face contoured in pleasure when he was putting inside his thick inches. Or if he likes it more facing your backside in this angle having you bounce on him, so eagerly to please him.   

You made him just so weak, so weak for your perfect little cunt, it had him gasping. He sat up just to feel you close, even when you rode him reverse into oblivion, he was sure you did.

Eyes closed and yet he saw everything. Lips nipping against your skin, tasting sweet, salty skin. Inhaling your scent. You always smelled so sweet to him but now when you were bouncing on his dick...hell, the smell of your arousal, it turned him on to no end. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, loosely, so you still could drag your wet cunt down his shaft.

"You look so pretty love, so pretty...hmm for me." he murmured against your ear, breath hot over it.

"Do I? Mind to tell me that again?" you asked, no matter how much you thought you would be in control it was Itachi who chuckled, giving into the wishes of his princess. Letting you think you might have had control, although since he was now so whipped with your pussy, you might even have.

"Don't be so rude when you take me this sloppy all the way in." he spoke while his free hand tugged back a strand of hair, before he kissed your cheekbone. Hands now both on the curve of your hip, helping you to slam down just a little harder onto him.

"Fuck." you moaned then, feeling his hard, thick cock just more deep. Making you wiggle down onto him, this had him groaning again, so deep. Holding you so close now, looking down to see how cute your ass jiggled when he thrusted upwards. 

"You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me like this, it's like heaven." the dark haired man let you know. Oh, he was so lovely to you, even when he noticed how shaky your legs got, how breathy your cute moans were from the way he hit the spot inside you.

As much as he loved fucking you full of his cum, he enjoyed to hold back his massive load for you. Making you a cum a few times on him, just so you would end up, to beg him so cute if he finally gives you his creamy, thick white cum. Such a slut you were for your boyfriend.

"Itachi, baby. Want your cum." you pouted, he was sure he could hear it, before he thrusted sharp up again. Both arms wrapping around you now as he pressed his front to your back.

"You really do, hm? I can tell your legs grow numb, huh? Pretty girl too weak, to take me?" he teased husky, gently biting your neck, what made you whimper.

Not even arguing this time with him.

"Fine, I grant you what you wish, my darling." he murmured before he let go of you laying down back in the pillows, grabbing your soft flesh of your bouncy ass.

Helping you to thrust back onto his massive shaft, over and over again.

Biting his lower lip gently when he watched the lewd display, when the noise of your skin clapping against his, was heard. The way the bed creaked. It was just so hot for him. 

"Be a naughty girl, love. Rub that clit for me, want you to cum with me this time." he commanded softly, and you couldn't help but to dance your own fingers over your swollen nub.

Itachi controlling your hips to his liking, just taking in the sensation. Not even holding back to moan your name, since he loved you so much, loved the feeling of your pussy.

Getting drunk on it like this. Eyes closed, head in the pillows...just feeling right now.

Feeling how your walls clamped down around his cock the closer you got, how his tip hit that spongy part inside you. Making you shudder and squirm a little, every time he hit that spot.

His hips bucking upwards faster, more desperate for release.

"God, I fucking...urgh love you." he panted and gasped, his balls drawing up so, so tight. You felt too good to stop.

You rubbed your clit with urgency, yourself seconds away from cumming all over his lap.

"Baby...:" you managed to squeal out before you tensed, your cunt squeezing him so god, it made his eyes roll back, pumping you full of his hot and potent seed. Rope after rope, painting your insides white. Not that he had enough now....no.

With a quick move he bends you over then, simply fucking through your orgasm and through his, this would be a long night ahead.

Just because your legs grew numb wouldn't mean your pussy can't take more right?

[always-just-red]

Multi headcanon request please. The LIs touch their s/os' breast for the first time, but it's an accident. However, instead of getting mad, she gently scolds them "save that behavior for when we're alone".

You always give me such great requests tehe, I had the absolute time of my life with this one. Did mini fics again! Featuring this time: a baking class with Xavier 🍰, a check-up with Zayne 🩺, pottery-making with Rafayel 🏺, casino night with Sylus 🎲, and a VERY serious study session with Caleb 📚

Innocent Little Mistakes

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: In which the boys are all menaces, surprising literally no-one 🥰

Genre: Humour

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, inappropriate touching (but make it ✨COMEDY✨), PDA, slight suggestiveness, established relationships

| Word count: 600-750 words each! | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One more strike and you’re out.

You furiously mix the bowl of cake batter under your arm, all too aware of the chef watching you from across the room. You don’t know why he’s looking at you— you’re not the problem. The problem is beside you, measuring out an ingredient you don’t actually need.

“What’re you up to, Xavi?” you ask with a nervous chuckle, trying not to sound suspicious.

He looks up at you, blue eyes as warm as the oven that’s making everything feel too hot. “Measuring,” he declares with a smile.

“That’s great, sweetie.”

Don’t ask. Just leave it.

Every other couple in the class look sickeningly in love— trading ingredients, utensils, and lingering gazes— all in perfect harmony. Meanwhile, you have a ticking time bomb for a partner. First there was the egg incident: a rogue egg from your table had somehow ended up under the foot of the man one counter down from you, slipping him over and twisting his ankle. Then the man from the couple behind you slipped too: on a butter wrap Xavier had sworn he’d thrown away.

Funny how so many of the things from your counter are going on little, deadly adventures.

You shoot Xavier another wary look. He glances up. Smiles. You smile back. When the cake batter’s done, tipped into the tin and tucked into the oven, you move onto the icing. You whip it up in a minute, lifting a spoon from the bowl and dragging a finger through to taste it.

“Xavier,” you say, nudging the bowl across to him, “mind putting a little more sugar in this? I need to start tidying up.”

“Sure,” he beams.

He can’t mess that up, right? You don’t want to exclude him. With a soft sigh, you start to reorganise your work station: making space for the cake you’re going to decorate. Xavier’s voice interrupts you, sweet like the sugar flowers you’re sorting through:

“How’s this?”

You turn, and the moment you do, something cool scrapes your collarbone. Xavier was holding out a spoon— too close— and it tips at your contact, spilling sticky white icing down past the neckline of your apron and shirt. You feel it, inching down your skin, between your breasts.

You’ve been stunned into silence. Xavier is staring down too, lips parted, spoon still mid-air.

“Don’t just stare!” you find it in you to scold, glancing about for something that’ll help you clean up. “Help me—”

That’s when you feel it: something warm on your skin. Your gaze shoots down and Xavier is wiping his thumb through the mess on your chest. He lifts the icing to his mouth. Pops it past his lips.

“Xavier!” you exclaim on a whisper.

His eyes had fluttered closed, but they open again. His lips are still on his thumb as he looks back at you. “Mmm?” he hums around it, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

That face is so devastatingly innocent, but you’re not falling for it. You cross your arms and glare.

“You want some too?” Xavier translates.

Before you can stop him, his thumb is on your skin again. “Xavi—!” you protest, but then that thumb is in your mouth, overwhelming you with sweetness. Except… it’s not all sweet. You frown as Xavier’s hand moves away, your nose wrinkling with disgust. “Wha— why is it salty?!”

“Wasn’t it salty already?”

“No! Xavier, what did you…? You can’t just—!”

“Are you okay?” Xavier laughs so lightly it’s almost a giggle. “You look… warm. What are you thinking about?”

He’s leaning against the counter now, cheek settled in his hand. He has the countenance of an angel and he knows what you’re thinking about. His free hand plays with a salt shaker on the counter; it doesn’t look anything like the sugar.

Behind you, someone clears their throat.

…

You walk home from the bakery class a lot earlier than planned, having— and you’re quoting verbatim, here— ‘crossed a line’. Xavier’s at your side, a bowl of icing in his hands that no-one dared take from him, and he hums pleasantly to himself as he lifts a fingerful to his lips.

“You did that on purpose,” you grumble, and it’s the first words you’ve said in a while.

He smiles like butter icing wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Zayne ❄️

“Zayne, c’mon… it’s not that bad.”

Lower half cocooned by the blankets of a hospital bed, you give your doctor a lopsided smile. He doesn’t grace your statement with a response— at least, not an intelligible one. There’s a tiny hum, to let you know you’ve been heard. There’s an even tinier frown, to let you know he was not amused.

So you got a little scraped up by a Wanderer— it happens! With your own frown, you regard the pulse oximeter that’s biting the end of your forefinger. You wiggle it, even though Zayne had instructed you to keep still. The tiny screen flashes and flickers. He writes… something down on his clipboard, and it feels needlessly dramatic.

“How would you rate the pain you’re currently experiencing?” he asks.

“Zero. Zilch. Nada. I feel great, actually.”

More scribbles for the clipboard, which means absolutely nothing good.

“I mean it, Zayne. I’m fine, really. I don’t even know why Xavier brought me here. Like, what’s the point of first-aid training if you’re just gonna dump someone in the hospi—”

“Please be still.”

You’d started gesturing, and Zayne stares across at the monitor on your finger. He sighs, which you don’t think is professional, then reaches to press a button on it, restarting its progress. You’re obedient this time: sitting still as he goes back to his beloved clipboard. That sigh sounded tired.

The oximeter bleeps. Zayne glances up. Makes another note.

“There,” he says, his eyes still trained downwards as he reaches across you to retrieve the device, “was that really so—?”

The words stop in his throat when his hand brushes your chest.

Just a graze, but his fingers hover guiltily for a moment before correcting their course: homing in on the oximeter, pinching it open. Zayne doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his writing. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks that definitely isn’t professional.

This is amazing. “Did you just—?”

He gives an adorably slight shake of his head.

You gasp anyway, utterly scandalised: “Doctor Zayne! You took an oath.”

“Stop.”

“Here I am, weak from blood loss! Vulnerable!”

“Stop.”

“What sort of an establishment is this, hmm? What other twisted, sordid things go on behind the—” and it’s at this moment you catch a glimpse of a familiar figure— “ah, Doctor Greyson! Doctor Greyson! In here, please!”

The man had been passing through the ward, though he stops at the sound of your voice. “Oh, hello!” he greets, peering around your privacy curtain, “Zayne mentioned you were in! It’s good to see you. Well, not good to see you here, but— you know what I mean! How are you?”

“I’m shocked,” you witter on, because you’ve no time for pleasantries, “shocked, I say! Just now, this man here had the audacity to—”

A cold hand clamps over your mouth.

You are— actually— shocked. You blink at Greyson, eyes wide; even he looks like he’s seen a Wanderer riding a bicycle through the hospital. After a moment of tense, awkward silence, he does that face you know so well. His ‘nope, I’m not going anywhere near whatever this is!’ face.

It’s not a surprise when he backs out, leaving you and Zayne alone once more. Your doctor’s hand is still over your mouth, breaching all kinds of ethics, and oh, how the mighty have fallen. This feels like victory. When Zayne’s hand finally drops, you’re grinning.

“Had your fun?” he asks quietly, looking back to his notes.

“Have you? Or do you wanna have another...?” You waggle a finger at your breasts.

Zayne’s mouth is a tight line, and he doesn’t dare look up. Something is scrawled on the clipboard and you get the feeling it’s a distraction. Your very important doctor is writing very important things. Definitely isn’t scribbling nonsense. He clears his throat, then stands rigidly, his face sombre.

Did you take your joke too far? Your heart starts to have some kind of episode as he walks away, and the stupid machine you’re hooked up to says nothing about it, which is typical.

But Zayne still stops at the curtain. Glances over his shoulder.

“Ask me later,” he says with a gentle smirk.

Rafayel 🎨

“This is just like that old movie.”

Rafayel hums a familiar, vintage tune as his hands cradle yours, guiding them up and down, up and down, as a wet clay vase spins beneath your touch. Everything about your partner is relaxed: his fingers, lazy and precise, and his head, settled comfortably on your shoulder. The song is so close to your ear that it tickles.

How the hell is he so calm? Your eyes are fixed downwards, brow furrowed with the sort of concentration you’d usually save for disarming a bomb. Your fingers feel clumsy and dangerous. Your head hurts. It doesn’t help that every other couple in the pottery class are stealing less-than-subtle glances your way: isn’t that—?

Yep! The Rafayel. Creative genius, ‘Da Vinci of our time’ Rafayel, and here you are, ever a moment away from destroying his latest masterpiece.

“Raf, stop…” you mutter, because he’s still humming away, distracting you.

“Okay!”

The song stops. You don’t think Rafayel has ever co-operated so quickly. Which means…

“Woahhh,” he sings quietly, privately, and right on cue, “my love… my darling… I’ve hungered for your—”

“Stop!” you hiss under your breath, untangling a hand from your project so you can swat at his face.

“A long... lonely— ah! — tiiiime!”

The vase is already folding over on itself, collapsing into a sad, soggy heap as Rafayel half sings, half chuckles, catching your hand so he can launch a counterstrike. A wet finger brushes your nose and you gasp, wrinkling your face in indignance. Then you wriggle your hand free, going in for another swat. The artist’s head has left your shoulder. The arms around you are suddenly attacking.

There’s a kerfuffle of hands, slick and sticky with clay. Slapping each-other. Trying to outmanoeuvre each-other. One lands on your chest with a thwap!

You both go deathly still.

Rafayel has stopped laughing, his body a marble statue behind you; you think his breath has actually gone. When his hand lifts away from you, it’s like a delusional cat slinking away from a crime: if I move slowly enough, I’m completely invisible.

What isn’t invisible, however, is the crude clay handprint he leaves behind. You stare down at it, mortified. “Raf!” you scold, and oh gods you hope nobody saw what just happened.

“I didn’t—” he begins, and he’s staring down over your shoulder, too. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t just sit there!” You shoo him away, one hand hovering in front of your chest like you’re not wearing anything at all. “I need something to—”

“On it!”

He can fix this. He can fix this. He practically falls off the seat you’d been sharing as he unwraps himself from you, stumbling up onto his feet. His hands are on his hips as he catches his breath; it had taken a lot of effort not to end up on the floor.

With a glance about, the artist spies a nearby cloth. You see the ‘aha!’ moment— the relief in his eyes as he turns towards it, on a mission. Your hero.

There’s a soft smack!

Rafayel freezes, pink creeping into his cheeks.

By the time he looks down over his shoulder, eyes widening at the bright, wet handprint on his ass, you’re already salvaging your clay vase— moulding it back into a workable blob as you hum an old song, completely innocent.

Sylus 🩸

“So… what are we spending our winnings on, sweetie?”

“A diamond as big as me,” you whisper.

“Is that it?”

Hmm. “A diamond as big as you.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Sylus chuckles, as rich and intoxicating as the alcohol he swirls in a glass as he stalls before his next throw. No-one would dare rush him. His other hand toys with a pair of dice, turning them over each-other, making them waltz about his fingers. The ministrations are practiced, experienced, and— glancing around the craps table— you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

One woman is utterly mesmerised. She takes a sip of her drink, swallowing thickly, and you like to think (delusionally) that you’ve never quite stared at Sylus as shamelessly as that. It isn’t her fault, though. Every person at the table is fixated on the man beside you, and it’s not just because they’ve got stakes in whatever he rolls next.

Sylus doesn’t own this casino— as far as you know— but he acts like he does. He places his bets. Smiles when he wins and smiles wider when he loses, as though in on a private joke. Everyone wants to know what it is. You inch closer to Sylus. Ask loud enough for them all to hear: “What do we need again?”

We.

“A nine,” he answers.

There’s a soft clack as the dice go still in his palm. He’s staring down the forest-green battleground you both stand at the head of. “Here,” he says, lifting his hand towards you, “blow on—”

He’s misjudged the distance, because his fingers collide with your chest. One of the dice rolls from his palm, tumbling down past the neckline of your dress and into your cleavage. It’s cold, but you don’t flinch. You look down in slow disbelief. Then you look at Sylus.

His crimson eyes are fixed on where the die disappeared. He glances up with a sheepish grin. “Oops.”

Oops? Your gaze is a knife at his throat and he thinks if he’s cute enough, you might not use it. You narrow your eyes and purse your lips. Wanna try that again?

Sylus’s laugh is awkward, but he isn’t a coward. “May I just—?”

His hand comes towards you, and though those fingers were never actually going to commit to that little suicide mission, you still slap them away. “No!”

He pouts, splaying the same hand expectantly. With a sigh, your fingers delve beneath your neckline, fishing around for a second. You present the die with an uninspired flourish, and it’s warm when you drop it into Sylus’s open palm. His fingers close around it. He’s smirking to himself as he turns back to the table.

“Lucky die,” he muses under his breath.  

“What did you just say?!”

Louder: “I said ‘lucky—”

“You’re a dead man, Sylus Qin. D-E-A-D. Dead. You hear me? The moment we get home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sylus nods dutifully; he’s not going to argue with that particular judge, jury, and executioner. He tosses the dice across the table and they clatter as they roll— the same, indifferent timbre as the chuckle in his throat. Everyone goes silent when they judder to a stop. Everyone leans in, fractionally.

A six and a three. Nine.

The gathering around you give a tentative applause. No-one really knows what just happened, least of all you and Sylus. You both stare at the dice, eyes wide, as a casino employee slides stacks of chips in your direction. Neither of you move when the dice are passed back, too.

It’s your turn, but Sylus has been throwing for you. He reaches forwards to collect the dice— starts to toy with them idly again, but it’s more pensive than last time. They clack, clack, but his mind is far away from them. Ever so slowly, his gaze inches towards you, pondering a silent question.

He’s not looking at your eyes.

Your arms cross. “Don’t even think about it.”

Caleb 🍎

“A Gelidus Dentis.”

Caleb’s voice makes you jump so much you almost drop your pen. “Huh?”

He’s stood behind where you’re sat, peering downwards. “It’s a Wanderer.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a Wanderer, Colonel Obvious. I meant why’re you talking about it?”

“Because it’s the answer? Duh.” He nods at the open textbook in front of you, and your gaze drops.

You’d practically been falling asleep reading through the practice question: some hypothetical about the aftermath of a Wanderer attack. Somewhere with a cold climate. Victims with ice burns. Multiple lacerations. Blah blah blah— you’ve got the idea.

“Please,” you dismiss as Caleb returns to his seat next to you. “It’s a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord. Easy.”  

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’ve seen one of those guys. That’s not it.”

“Oh you’ve seen one? Big whoop. I’ve killed one. Try, like, twenty.”

He tuts sympathetically as he goes back to his own work: some reports that’re definitely way too confidential for a public library. “Then it’s gonna be really embarrassing when you find out that I’m right and you’re wrong, pips.”

You scoff, making a point of writing out ‘Hoarfrost Wyrmlord’ as confidently as you can.

“Gelidus Dentis,” Caleb lilts in a sing-song voice as you flick to the back of your textbook.

You’re gonna shove your correct answer right in his face, you just need to find it. It should be right… here! Section Three. Question Twenty-Two. The Wanderer responsible is most likely a—

Fuck.

“I told you,” Caleb sings quietly again, signing his name on the bottom of a page, then turning it over.

“It was a Hoarfrost Wyrmlord.”

“It really wasn’t, but it’s cute you still hide your mouth when you’re lying.”

Your hand had lifted subconsciously in front of your lips, and you throw it back down on the textbook. “Oh, shush!”

“You shush!” The measureless galaxies of his eyes are back on you.

You slap his arm gently. He slaps your arm gently. You try to slap at his face, which means he tries to slap at your face. Soon enough, you’re both flailing your hands like two cats determined to bop the other.

Caleb’s paw lands on one of your breasts, and he doesn’t have time to regret it. With an indignant gasp, you give his chest a firm smack!

He stares at you in disbelief. You clear your throat, brushing down the fabric of your shirt as if the matter has been settled. Then you pick up your dropped pen. Okay! Question Twenty-Three: You’re called out to answer a distress signal from deep within a tropical rainforest...

“What was that?” Caleb asks.

You sniff. Say under your breath: “Tit for tit.”

“Come again?”

“Tit for tit,” you shrug. “That’s the saying. That’s how it goes.”

From the smile on his face, Caleb’s delighted. “Uh… I don’t think that is how it goes, pipsqueak.”

“Oh yeah? Hope you’re ready to look like an idiot, then.”

With a hmph, you reach for a spare piece of paper. Fold it in half. Write something brief on the outside, then on the inside. Caleb watches your pen move, quietly enamoured. There’s a click as it retracts. You hand the paper over.

Caleb’s face wrinkles, but he still handles it like it’s sacred. “Totally official dictionary!” he reads from the front. Then he opens it, continuing: “Tit for tit. Noun. If Caleb cops a feel in the library, then I get to… hey now—” he frowns— “this doesn’t seem very legitimate.”

“You dare question the authority of the Hunter’s Association?”

“I do,” he nods. “I do dare. Yeah, you see… look at this.”

He scribbles something down in your dictionary, then passes it back to you. You raise an eyebrow but relent, reading the new addition out loud: “Deepspace Fleet. Proper (awesome) noun. Has absolutely every right to question the authority of the Hunter’s Association.” You toss the paper down. “Whatever.”

Caleb sniggers victoriously as you try to get back to your work. When he doesn’t stop, you give his chest another slap. The sniggering dies out. The space between you goes quiet.

Then he reaches— smacks one of your breasts back. You look up, eyes huge.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I think I’m gonna like this little arrangement.”

[helloanthy]

27.05.2025 ✨ today's anthy!

tried to magical girly her a bit more 😸 i drew her pulling her sword out at first but i think in a traditional magical girl setting her weapon would be long range and she'd be more of a support type than a dps character so uh ... actually what did i ... what is that. help. um i think i decided shes pulling out a wand or the handle of a rose barbed whip but i already drew that for a revue starlight design somewhere ....... anyway !! her powers would be similar to whats shown in the anime and manga ... like sealing/putting you in stasis, illusionment/enchantment, summoning weapons, power enhancement, animal/plant manipulation, nullification. i think her main fighting style would be deflection/rebounding attacks thru portals maybe she defeats monsters/enemies by sealing them in a glowy summoning circle and they sparkle out of reality as a final move and when asked at the beginning where they go she givs an explanation of putting them to sleep and delivering them to a realm of dreams to bring them peace to avoid depicting outright death to a pg audience but its later revealed where they actually go is inside her heart/soul gem where she summons things from and she takes on all their pain instead so her body is basically a gu jar of trauma and every weapon she summons is actually forged from every weapon ever used against her that she sealed so like basically canon right but the addition that now her heart is full of prisoners and demons and whatever and shes tortured by their dreams at night when she sleeps. maybe her power enhancement for damage assists are fueled by all the agony and resentment shes collected inside her. but as a divine warrior of justice it is her heavenly duty to suffer for the sake of protecting others and bringing balance to the world through the righetous path blah blah blah a million swords of hate upon ye etc etc oh dont worry about it though she doesnt feel anything. this version is like if i took a heartless doll with a hole in her chest of an endless abyss but like i put a crystal heart on top of it like a stopper so nothing bad that goes in can leak out so i fixed her :+) like kintsugi. thats how it works right. its also more sparkly now. holds her outu in front of me like an aciton figure

[ch3rrybbie]

Hi lovely, I want to request Ivar from Vikings! I hope that's okay, if not, that'll be totally fine! 🤗

I wanna request Ivar x saxon reader who came to Kattegat as a slave and who was sold to Lagertha. In her hometown she was forced to wear a blindfold made of black lace so no one could see her eyes because they were deemed as demonic from the church. Like her eyes are really crystalline and were unsettling for Christians, and she continues to wear it even in Kattegat. Perhaps the young Rangarsson finds himself to wonder about her and one day a jealous woman rips it from her face during a festive in the main hall when she was serving ivar...?

I know it's a lot but I've been thinking about this all week. 😭✨ Thank you so much!

Angel eyes

summary: Ivar thinks your eyes must be Gods-sent.

warnings: Margrethe being Margrethe, vikings scaring reader, Ivar being Ivar.

ch3rrybbie says: love the request bby, I changed it a lil hope you don’t mind🩷 sorry it took so long lol

———

It’s been three whole moons away from England. Away from the cruelty you knew, but that cruelty was yours. It was home.

Kattegat wasn’t too dissimilar to England but it wasn’t the same.

You trudged through the thick mud of the central market. People didn’t stare at you and you reveled in the anonymity. The thin cotton you always wore around your eyes shielding your oddities was nothing to the people of Kattegat and you had grown to love it during the few days you’d spent here.

Lagethera had brought you along wanting to show you the ways of her culture. After being sold to her she declared you free yet you refused,you would not settle to a life here. You wished to serve her in hopes you could make enough money to flee home.

Slave to handmaiden.

Handmaiden to home.

You refused to learn to fight, to speak her tongue comfortably, to like the viking life. The foolish hope of home held strong within you. And yet you knew you’d never return to England you’d seen what they’d done to the village of those who’d ostracised and belittled you. Luckily your family was away selling the spoils of their labour at market.

They would’ve come back to an empty village stinking of death. The thought makes your heart clench and your steps falter.

Lagertha had playfully commanded you go out and see Kattegat, to see her ex-husbands lands. And to bring her seawater, its purpose left you clueless but you obeyed.

The heathens were strange people after all.

And yet your own had forced you to learn to squint through your blindfold to see shapes and sounds.

To live life veiled.

———

Lagertha was repulsed by the idea. The Christian rigidity that had left you believing in the need to hide your eyes.

She watched you from afar, leant against the entrance of the great hall. You were a sweet girl yet you could be so much more.

And she would see to it.

Ragnar follows her gaze, “what is so special about this slave anyways?”

Lagertha’s head whips towards him, “she is no slave Ragnar, she is blessed by the Gods”

Ragnar’s laugh almost shakes the great hall itself, he walks off still chuckling.

———

Later as the moon begins its race to the crest of the sky you braid Lagertha’s hair. The bucket of seawater stuck out in the corner.

“Why did you ask for the seawater?” You break the gentle silence and she turns smiling at you softly.

“Bring it here” she gestures towards it a sly smirk emerging upon her face.

Standing in front of her seawater at hand she starts to command you.

“Smell it”

“Taste it”

“Feel it”

You end up giggling at the foolish tasks until she asks.

“What is the difference between this seawater and England’s?”

The smile drops from your face and you set the bucket down and return to your tasks bring her dress to ready her for the great feast.

“My sweet girl this is your fate do not run from it, you will come to love Kattegat as much as England as there isn’t much difference”.

“To you, there isn’t much difference to you, my lady” the words bite bitterly at her.

She sighs and you step back from her outstretched arms. You didn’t understand her fondness of you.

“We must go to the hall” you turn on your heel and march into the frosty air, she follows carefully.

———

You pause outside, the noise reminding you of the nights spent around a fire at home.

Perfumed with smoke and stories of old.

You shake the thought away and wait for Lagertha. She come to you a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently.

“You ready?”, you nod and clench you fists at your sides as she pushes the door open.

Truth is you’d never be ready for a feasting hall full of vikings.

“Mother!” A thundering voice cuts through the rowdy masses.

Bjorn comes thumping over sweeping Lagertha into a crushing hug. Once their greetings are finished he turns to you inquisitively

“And who is this little birdy mother” you manage to grasp from your basic understanding of their tounge.

He reaches to peek under your eye covering and instinctively you slap his hand away. Your breath catches as you wait to be struck to the ground.

Instead a sharp laugh cuts at your action you turn to see someone with eyes almost as striking as yours. He regards you a cruel smile and glaringly sharp beauty confronts you. You hold back a gasp and turn from his gaze. Bjorn is also bellowing out a laugh.

“I am sorry bird, ignore Ivar” he plants a kiss on his mother’s cheek and is gone into the crowd of hedonism.

It was going to be a long night.

———

Refusing to sit by Lagertha’s side you stood ignoring the curious looks from Aslaug.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Ivar. It was so strange, he didn’t seem to mock you.

“Hello birdy” a gruff tease voice floats out behind you.

You whip round to see a man that looks exactly like an older Bjorn, Ragnar you conclude.

“Why do you stand here all alone, hmm? Lagertha tells me you are a free woman, here free woman can do as they please you should try it!” He chuckles and it takes you aback, he doesn’t know you yet he treats you like he has for years.

You don’t speak and turn to watch the crowds further, eyes searching for Ivar.

He’s looking right back at you, with a gasp you turn away.

“You know, I had a friend like you once” Ragnar whispers, voice taught with emotion. The pain in his voice pulls you from thoughts of Ivar.

At that you turn and take him in. Towering next to you he looks deep in grief. Eyes watery and gone to distant memories, you recognise it all too well.

“I’m sorry for your loss” you murmur, their language is crude and harsh on your tounge.

Your voice pulls him back, he grabs your shoulder and thanks you with a smile.

And once again you’re alone amongst heathens.

———

“Girl! Come serve me wine” a voice throws its self against you cutting through the bustle of the hall.

Ivar.

“Ivar do not command her like that!” Lagertha bites at him.

You frown at her remark and make your way over.

Aslaug is watching you as though you are a mirage, you ignore her stares and focus on the task at hand.

“She is no servant, please sit down” Lagertha implores you and you ignore her, Ragnar watches on curiously.

Fingers clasping over the mead jug you come closer towards Ivar ignoring the way he drinks you in.

“Surely she’s just a servant” a pretty blonde remarks from a group of boys, the rest of Ragnar’s sons you presume.

“You will watch your tongue upon my mother’s friend Margrethe” Bjorn booms at her, seemingly tired of her presence.

Lagertha frown and you lean to pour Ivar more mead.

“Thank you” he grins up at you, ignoring him you turn to be met by Margrethe.

“Why do you wear that silly cloth on your face?” She giggles and takes you in.

Everyone watches with bated breath.

Someone cuts out her name as another warning.

Attempting to step past her you don’t make it far.

“Here let me help you slave”

Her nails scrape against your skin, harsh in its endeavour.

The room brightens and grows in life as you see it more clearly.

An outraged roar emerges as Margrethe is chastised greatly. Everyone turns to look and the same whispers you’ve heard your whole life break out.

“Blessed Freya” sounded in a wave of murmurs.

The seer shuffles over parting the crowd and you retreat slowly. His interest peaked at such an odd display.

“My child you are kissed by the Gods, you shall see to their vision” his words curl through the fog of fear.

Embarrassed you flee the hall into the icy night and collapse in a heap by the fjord.

Finally you have peace.

They hadn’t cast curses or spat at your feet. They were almost reverent in their discovery of you. Perhaps they truly believe you were someone sent or blessed by their heathen Gods.

A repetitive click and shuffle sounds behind you and you whip around to see Ivar approaching. Embarrassed you turn back to look at the still waters, struggling to think upon his intentions. He groans as he lowers himself aside you.

“You know you didn’t have to run off so quick birdy” he chuckles cruelly

“You would do well not to mock me” you bite back and he simply laughs in your face.

“Maybe you really are sent by the Gods, no other woman in the whole of Kattegat would speak to me this way” he seems to grow serious and take you in.

Fixated on your eyes he stares into them, “They really are beautiful you should not cover them anymore, I command it so”.

“You command it so!” You can’t help exclaim incredulous. Dragged from home and commanded by the bratty son of a king.

“Yes I command it so!” He giggles and watches your perplexed face. You resort back to silence and the pair of you just sit there until he coaxes you to talk of England.

So you do.

You tell him of its fields and wildflowers. How the moon feels different and the sun is sweeter. How the grass will always be greener to you and the songs louder.

And for once he just listens and he knows you were meant for him. Every laugh and lilt makes his heart climb. Without telling you he makes a prayer to the Gods commanding you be by his side every day till death do you part. That you may tell him what you please and speak how no woman ever had to him.

And for the first time you’d found something wholly dissimilar to England and you wouldn’t compare it for all the homesickness in your heart. You could not have found Ivar in England. You would never have found the appreciation of your beauty there.

With the intermission of his laugh at your tales, you thank his Gods and yours for kissing your eyes.

———

Lagertha and Ragnar watch your silhouettes from the mouth of the great hall. They needn’t speak the thoughts they share but they know the nights they’d spent together talking till the sun kissed the fjord had seemingly come to life in front of them.

[tracksidebaby]

He Brings Me Flowers

Summary: During off season George Russell decides to go to the ballet where he is completely enamoured by ballerina YN LN, so enamoured that he goes to the show again just to watch her and can't help but ask her out.

Requested: Yes / Anon

Instagram /

liked by: ynfangirl, fan.account and 98,322 others

dancewithyn: so, so happy to be back to the stage where I belong 🩰✨

username: pretty girl 😍

username: missed you!! so excited for opening night!

username: six weeks of this show will not be enough i fear

username: stunning

Twitter /

Instagram /

liked by: username, username and 982,918 others

georgerussell63: Breathtaking performance, though one dancer in particular stole the show for me

username: GEORGE

username: is this him shooting his shot with a dancer or is this the soft launch

| username: honestly im here for it either way

username: she got her own slide, who is this girl

| username: her name is @/dancewithyn, she's a ballerina living in monaco

username: ballerina x f1 driver, im ready for this one

Twitter /

Instagram /

liked by: georgerussell63, fan.account and 450,382 others

dancewithyn: been back on the stage for two weeks, missed this 🩰✨

username: GEORGE RUSSELL INTERACTED, EVERYONE STAY CALM

username: imagine being this pretty and this talented

georgerussell63: still not over your talent.

| username: smooth

| username: OMG YES

| username: wait why can i acc see them together

| username: shoot ur shot

| username: imagine yn in the mercedes garage

username: gorgeous

Twitter /

Instagram DM's /

Your Instagram Story /

story replies:

username: OMG THEY'RE THE FLOWERS GEORGE GOT

username: here for this relationship

username: no fucking way

Instagram:

liked by: georgerussell63, username and 684,857 others

dancewithyn: the pas de deux i didn't see coming ✨🥰

username: more flowers, this girls house is gonna look like a flower shop

| username: it's so cute tho

username: im too single for this omg

username: george is in the likes

| username: there's no way this isn't him right

| username: it has to be him

username: the soft launch we've been waiting for

liked by: dancewithyn, mercedesamgf1 and 998,322 others

georgerussell63: Might stay here forever.

username: omg hes in love

username: stop he never posts like this what is going on

username: my mom and dad, i love them

username: i dont want race season to start, im living for these posts 😭

Twitter /

Instagram /

liked by: georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and 798,322 others

dancewithyn: ballet, bouquet, boy 🩰 🥰 `✨

username: MORE FLOWERS im obsessed with this

username: kimi's in the likes = george has told everyone hes in love

username: theyre in love

username: hes whipped

username: he bought her flowers, he carries her bags, he brings her drinks 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username: alexa, play that should be me

liked by: dancewithyn, kimi.antonelli and 998,963 others

georgerussell63: Some things just feel right

username: 'sOmE tHiNgS jUSt FeEl RiGhT' just say youre in love

kimi.antonelli: can i be the flower boy?

* liked by georgerussell63

| username: KIMI

username: can't be a yn post without flowers

mercedesamgf1: next time just post the wedding invite

| username: admin gets it

Twitter /

Instagram /

liked by: dancewithyn, kimi.antonelli, mercedesamgf1 and 898,322 others

georgerussell63: Back to the track. Brought my favourite view with me.

username: he called yn his favourite view 😭

username: YNGEORGE HARDLAUNCH INCOMING

username: yn's going to race weekend, george you better win !!!

username: of course he got her more flowers omg

liked by: georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli, mercedesamgf1 and 1,082,132 others

dancewithyn: i'm not crying, you're crying. @/georgerussell63, i am so so proud of you, you owned the track. congratulations baby 💖

username: BABY !! SHE CALLED HIM BABY

username: oh so they're in love in love

username: i love when rich good looking people get together

georgerussell63: thank you, darling!! so glad you were there with me

username: OMG YES FINALLY

username: does this mean it's her turn to buy him flowers?

| username: knowing these two he'll probably buy her some

mercedesamgf1: youre invited to every race week forever

Twitter /

Instagram /

liked by: dancewithyn, kimi.antonelli, mercedesamgf1 and 1,532,175 others

georgerussel63: winning means more when she's waiting for me at the end

username: my mum and dad im sobbing

username: i want what they have

mercedesamgf1: what a race 😍 and what an addition to the mercedes garage

username: she needs to be at every race weekend

username: i love them

dancewithyn: my absolute world, forever going to be at that finish line waiting for you 🥰✨

[heyimkana]

Beru reminds his liege that it's ✨ ovulation day ✨ | WC: 1.9K

It’s Saturday evening. The sun dips low on the horizon, smearing amber across the sky.

Sung Jinwoo, now the notable guildmaster, stretches his arms above his head, chair creaking beneath him as he glares at the endless stack of paperwork Jinho left on his desk. He’s only halfway through, but it feels like he’s already aged five years in the last two hours.

He glances at the clock. 6:13 PM. Dinner time.

Maybe I should cook something for my wife, he thinks, a devious smirk tugging at his lips. If he played his cards right tonight… he might just get dessert served in bed. With extra whipped cream. On a very naked lady.

As if summoned by the sheer scent of mischief, Beru materializes in the air like a dark, dramatic mist—a floating head the size of his palm with a pair of antennae that twitch excitedly. 

“Verily, my liege, ‘tis a most fitting eve to woo thy beloved—for lo, her womb prepareth to receive the royal seed."

Jinwoo blinks. “Are you saying she’s… ovulating?”

“Aye, my gracious king.”

“How do you even know that?”

“I keepeth watch o’er her calendar, my liege. A humble service for thy glory. We, the loyal shadows, must ensure thine efforts bear fruit. Literally.”

“Okay, that’s… disturbing. Don’t do that.”

“As you wish, O mighty spreader of seed. Yet I must protest—forsooth!—if thou delayeth tonight, another moon must pass ere the next chance to sow thine seed!”

“Stop saying sow thine seed—or anything with seed.”

“Then allow me this: It is time… for copulation!” Beru flourishes a dramatic bow, his little wings flaring behind him.

Jinwoo reciprocates with a blank stare before he rubs his temple. “The sun is still out—”

“I’ve conducted a thorough scan of her body, my liege. Fertility levels are over seventy percent.”

“I don’t have sex with my wife just to make a baby—”

“Nay, of course not! ‘Tis love thou expresseth—in the most primal of forms. With… enthusiasm.”

His master lets out a weary sigh. “If I ever get divorced, it’s gonna be because of you.”

“Nay, my liege, for love such as yours burneth eternal. Like herpes.”

At this point, he's just itching to say cancel summon. And make it last for eternity.

“We already did it last night, Beru."

"Aye, my king—thrice, to speak true. May thy lady’s limbs find swift reprieve."

"And yet, you're asking me to do it again," Jinwoo says, as if he weren’t just thinking about licking whipped cream off his wife a moment ago.

“Her arousal is also peaking at a glorious ninety percent, my liege.”

“We need a foolproof plan to seduce her." Jinwoo shuts the folder of documents with a sharp snap, eyes narrowing in deep focus. Fingers laced together, he leans forward. “Something romantic. Something... strategic.”

“As expected of thee, master. A tactician most true and wise.” Beru nods, equally solemn. “Let us craft a seduction most divine.”

“Flowers?”

“Too oft gifted. Predictable.”

“Chocolate?”

“T'would boost her lust, true—but alas, she frets about her waistline. We must surprise her, my liege. Bedazzle her with flair.”

“Something exciting, huh?” Roleplay? Edible body paint? Sex toys? Actually— “Where did I put my handcu—”

“Whatcha talking about?” His sister, Jinah, walks out from the kitchen, looking entirely too suspicious of him as she sips her mango juice.

“Nothing,” Jinwoo says quickly, slapping Beru back to the shadow realm. “Did you make your juice?”

“Yup. Not sharing.”

“Didn’t ask.” He rolls his eyes. Then, he pauses. “So, Jinah... When are you going home?”

“Dude, I just got here.”

“Right. Right.” He looks away, drumming his fingers on the desk. One second. Two. “So, when exactly?”

“Until I feel like going.” She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

Silence. He looks away.

“No, don’t tell me—”

“My wife’s ovulating.”

“Oh my God, bro.” She groans, tossing her head back, exasperated but not surprised. “Again with this? This is, like, the third time you kicked me out of the house just because you wanted to get freaky.”

“It is important,” Jinwoo gravely replies. Also shamelessly.

“You know what? Fine. But only ‘cause I want a cute niece or nephew. Hopefully they won’t look like you.” She tosses her phone into her backpack. “I’ll head down to the cafe and suffer from the stupid public wi-fi.” 

Jinah stretches out an arm toward him, waiting.

“What?”

“You’re paying for my coffee.” She slurps on her drink. “A hundred thousand won. Per hour.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Then I’ll stay.” She shrugs, plopping onto the couch with her legs on the coffee table. 

He narrows his eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Fine,” Jinwoo exhales in defeat, taking some cash out of his wallet and slapping it into her hand. “Two hours. Go.”

She extends her arm again. “Three hundred thousand.”

“What the hell, Jinah—”

“I charge emotional tax now. You’re annoying.”

He glares. She sips harder.

Beru comes out of his collar. “My liege, she doth possess the cunning of a warlock. Just give her the coin.”

Jinwoo smacks another hundred thousand into her hand. “You’re evil.”

“Oh, who cares, Oppa. You’re rich.” With a cheeky grin, Jinah swings her backpack over her shoulder. “Pleasure doing business with you~” she singsongs, bouncing on her steps as she walks out the door.

“She’s robbing me.”

“Worry not, my liege. ‘Tis for a noble cause.”

“Right. Let's go back to the plan. I’ll go simple: cook her favorite, pour some wine, massage. Set the mood.”

“Ah! Truly the Holy Trinity of seduction.”

***

Jinwoo struts into the bedroom, ready to execute Operation Seduce Wife™. 

“Jagiya,” he calls sweetly, “what do you want for din—”

He stops dead.

There, sitting in front of the vanity mirror, is the most beautiful version of her he’s ever seen (aside, perhaps, how she looked on her wedding day). His wife adjusts her earrings, graceful even in the tiniest of movements. Her makeup is flawless, both sultry and sweet, her hair swept into a high ponytail that exposes the soft line of her neck. She’s wearing the white dress—the one from the night he proposed, the one he's always itching to tear it off of her.

She takes his breath away. Literally.

“Hey, darling,” she says, catching his gaze in the mirror, smiling. “You okay?”

Jinwoo walks toward her like he’s in a trance, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “You look… incredible,” he sighs in reverence, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Took my breath away for a second there.”

“Thank you,” she giggles, a sound that turns quickly into a delicate moan when his lips begin to leave a trail of heat on her skin, his teeth grazing her flesh as he sucks a spot on the juncture of her neck. “W-wait—Jinah’s here.”

“No, she’s not,” he captures her lobe between his lips. “Went to a cafe with Songyi.”

“But she just got here—”

“Yeah, she does that sometimes.” He breathes in her scent, his torso pressed flush against her spine. “Where are you going, looking so pretty like this?”

She stops, blinks, then frowns. “You mean, where are we going.”

Jinwoo freezes, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “What..?”

She takes in his expression, then she smiles. Deadly. “Sung Jinwoo.” 

Oh, no. Not the full name. “Yes..?”

She turns around to face him, still smiling, still terrifying the shit out of him. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our plans today.”

His soul leaves his body.

Beru! Beru, what plans?!

I—I am as baffled as thee, my liege. She hath not spoken of this sacred outing. I shall consult Sir Igris—

“Don’t you dare ask Beru,” she says, already reading his moves despite them communicating telepathically. “Or Igris.”

She takes a step forward. He takes a step back.

“Did you forget our date, Mr. Sung?”

“N-no,” Jinwoo lies, sweating bullets. 

“I have been spending an hour trying to make myself look perfect because you said you’re taking me somewhere special tonight. And now you’re telling me you forgot?”

“Honey, of course not.” Yes, he cannot remember anything for the life of him. “We have… plans. We’re going out.”

She places her hands on her hips. “Where?”

Think think think. “Uh… To a nice restau—” He watches her eyes darkening and searches quickly for another guess. “—Mall. To a nice shopping mall where I will buy you anything you want.” It’s bribery, but it works 99% of the time, so there it is. His ultimate weapon.

She folds her arms on her chest, intrigued. “Anything?”

“Anything. A new purse. Clothes. Jewelry. Anything my sweet girl wants.”

She narrows her eyes at him, scrutinizing for a moment. “Shoes. I want new shoes.”

“Of course, Angel,” he smiles, the shadows under his feet sighing in relief, wiping sweat from their foreheads. “And then I’ll take you to a nice sky longue for dinner and we'll spend the night slow-dancing. How’s that sound?”

Though not utterly convinced yet, she drops her glare. “Okay. Why aren’t you getting dressed yet?”

“Because—” He says smoothly, landing a cute kiss on her cheek. “I wanted to match you. You wear white, I’ll wear white. I’m a romantic like that.”

“Go.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He flees the room like a man escaping execution (he is). He closes the door behind him, breathing out, “That was close.”

“Brilliantly executed, my liege!” Beru chimes in. “A narrow escape from the guillotine!”

“I can’t believe I forgot.”

The shadow nods. “Thou hath the heart of a lion but the memory of a goldfish.”

“What?” 

“The only shadow’s true name thou remember’st is Igris.”

Jinwoo opens his mouth. Closes it. The ant has a point. 

***

A very short moment later, in what must have been a world record, the man returns—black suit, white button-down shirt, hair tousled from his hasty change. Jinwoo fixes his belt, combing his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I’m ready. Where should we—”

He finds his wife sitting on the bed, no longer wearing the dress, only a beige trench coat that wraps tightly around her body from her shoulders to her knees. She looks up at him with a Cheshire Cat’s grin.

“What?” Jinwoo blinks. “What is it?”

She attempts to bite back her giggles but fails, bursting into full laughter. “I’m sorry, honey, it was a prank.”

“A… what?”

“A TikTok trend. I couldn’t help but try. You should've seen the way you turned all pale before. It was so funny.” She stands from the bed, seduction in every step she takes, her grin now turning into a coquettish smirk. “You’re getting so much better at lying, though.” She plays with his collar, unbuttoning his shirt down to his chest, her gaze titillating. “Should I be worried?”

“That’s not funny,” he frowns. “You’re saying you almost gave me a heart attack, thinking that I forgot something important—when I always remember everything about you—and now you’re apologizing like it was noth—”

She opens her coat. Lingerie. Garter belts. Thigh-highs. Red and sinful.

Jinwoo drops the suit like it insulted his mother. “You’re forgiven.” 

He tackles her onto the bed, muffling her giggles with searing kisses that rob a moan out of her. "You're lucky I love you," he murmurs against her throat, nibbling at her skin.

She threads her fingers through his locks. "You're lucky you didn't forget the date for real."

"Marry, she speaketh true, my liege — we'd have been shorter by a head, and not just in jest."

They both stop, turning their heads to the floating head who does not seem to grasp the concept of privacy. His wife giggles. "Are you going to join us, Beru?"

"Don't even joke about it." Jinwoo leans back to stand on his knees before her, unfastening his belt. “All shadows—dismissed,” he says, his gaze roaming over her body like a predator ready to devour his prey. “I'm going to make love to my wife now.”

“Jinwoo!” She slaps his chest, laughing. 

“My liege, the shackles of passion lie within the third drawer.”

"Beru."

“I-I shall take my leave now! Fortune’s favour be ever at thy side!”

At Beru's disappearance, his wife sends him a look. "Was he talking about handcu—" She's cut off short, her wrists pinned above her head with one hand. "J-Jin?"

“I’m gonna put a baby in you tonight, Sweetheart." He smirks down at her. "I’ll make sure of it. Or at the very least," he leans down into her ear, his voice raspy and low, "I’m making sure you can’t walk for a week.”

She gulps. “L-Let’s stick with the baby.”

***

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)

I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now

Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

Minors dni

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly. 

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. 

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.” 

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips. 

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. 

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed. 

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls. 

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe. 

 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 

“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before. 

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 

You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

[cottonlemonade]

“I have a question for you.”, you said as you plopped down on the couch facing your husband.

Satori looked up from his Switch, ready for shenanigans, “Hit me, shnookums.”

“What is something weird that I do that you think is hot?”

He didn’t miss a beat, “Everything.”

“That’s not how this works.”, you laughed and gave him a playful shove.

“Plum pie, I don’t know what to tell you, you’re weird as hell and I love everything about you. You’re ✨freaky✨.”

“You’re not getting out of this by being cute.”

“Fine. Lemme think.”

He turned off his Switch and placed it on the coffee table, then rested his elbows on his knees while his hands clasped under his chin in most serious reflection.

“You’re not gonna judge me?” He side-eyed you.

“Never. Well - depends.”

“Remember, when we went to that Italian place where we got the whole meal for free if we finished that massive pizza in an hour?”

“Of course.” The victory picture of that day hung right next to your wedding photo in the bedroom, “Wait, don’t tell me…”

“You said you wouldn’t judge!”

“I said no such thing! That did it for you?”

“Been hard ever since.”, he nodded.

You rolled back and snorted with laughter, while Satori continued: “Not only did you inhale the lion share of the pizza, but once we got that free dessert and I watched you go nuts on the sundae… I’m gonna be so real, I’ve been dreaming of you slathering me in whipped cream and devouring me as well. - Please take this seriously, shnookie, I’m being vulnerable with you right now.” You were still giggling your little heart out, holding your tummy.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You sat up and wiped tears out of the corner of your eyes, then leaned forward to give him a kiss.

“What about you?”

“Everything.”, you shrugged.

“Hey! I’ve been told that’s not how it works! - Shnookie? - Stop kissing me! Tell me!”

a/n: missing this silly goober 🥺

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel masterlist | miniseries masterlist

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prologue), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6).

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it ain't how ya wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your mouth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. my joel masterlist has 🍒 on virginity loss fics. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.

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[itshunnib]

“I know that there is some Black girl out there, so many Black women out there that are watching me right now and I want to tell you: You can do it. Anything is possible. Anything is possible,” she said, as she whipped the crowd into a frenzy before she ended on a note of inspiration that led to a standing ovation.

“Don’t allow anybody to project any stereotypes on you, that tell you that you can’t be here, that you’re too dark or that you’re not smart enough or that you’re too dramatic or you’re too loud. You are exactly who you need to be, to be right where you are, and I am a testimony. Praise God!”

@doechii

Had to illustrate the one and only swamp princess , loved their speech and they were gorgeous as always 🐊 👑 ✨