#Sis this got me weeping

[diorchids]

a good friend, simon 'ghost' riley.

cw: masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, swearing, overstim, dumbification, & more

simon bucked his hips into his warm, clammy palm as he groaned sinfully when your pretty face popped into his head.

you were a friend—nothing else, you couldn't be. he couldn't ruin you. he was ashamed to even look at you this way, let alone think of you bouncing on his cock above him.

the way you would insist on staying the night to keep him company or hug him extra tight when you were leaving for some time; it was too good to be true. 

his breathing became heavier as he continued to stroke his fat mess of a cock. his other hand found its way to his tip, starting to massage and tease the sensitive, puffy area atop his cock. the sound of his whimpers and groans filling the room each time he thumbed his weeping cock.

“like that–fuck,” he imagined you begging for his cock to break you completely, bruising your cervix as you wept and entreated him to go slower. he imagined your plump lips wrapped around his cock, sucking vehemently while he pushed your head further down. he pictured you asking for more and more like a whore. “so good, love, so–good.”

he got too into his imagination. nodding fervently, he pushed deeper into his pleasure. his hips started to move rhythmically, his eyes locked onto you–the image in his head. it was an unspoken plea for more in their depths. he said your name repeatedly, the way it slid off his tongue was disgusting.

unbeknownst to him, you’d been standing there the whole time. the door cracked open just enough for you to see him sitting on his bed, fucking his poor hand. at first, your eyes were wide and your face washed over with confusion. but eventually, you watched with complete desperation as your sweet cunt pooled. poor thing, you were a mess.

he imagined filthy things. like you spasming uncontrollably on his cock while he kissed your tear-stained cheeks, or him fucking you ‘till you stain the sheets. (the stain is up to your interpretation….) or maybe he’s over-stimulating you through those lace panties he saw on your nightstand. a shame he stole them.

“si,” your face hot with shame and curiosity, “what’re you doing?” you spoke through the cracked door, half of your body visible to him. why were you so shy? 

his eyes widened as you slowly entered the room, quickly stuffing his cock back in his cock back in his boxers. he couldn’t bring himself to speak, only looking at you with pure desperation. you understood. “it’s okay, si,” he straightened your back at your words, tugging his shirt onto him completely. you walked to him, and the sight of you so close–knowing he was fisting his fat cock at the thought of you–fuels his lust.

“i’m sorry, love–it’s disgusting, really,” he stood to look down at you, leaning to get a good look at your face.

he wasn’t sorry. it was bad. terrible, even, to think of you like this. but he wasn’t sorry.

you shook your head. you couldn’t speak, your mouth was dry as you brought your fingers to his bulge. your fingers curved over it, “like that? i can help you, si.” 

you looked so pretty like this, mouth agape, ready to comply with his every wish. 

he leaned down and kissed you like he’s been starved like he’s been waiting. his tongue tentatively exploring your mouth, he slides his hand to your back, pulling you closer. “atta girl.” he groaned when his cock throbbed in his pants, leaking sweet pre-cum. “more..” you barely wanted to look at him. 

“more? want my cock–love?” his voice all hoarse when you press up against his cock. you nod, “please? need you.” you whined.

“then have me. “ his fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, his voice was thick with lust. he broke the kiss to pull his cock out once more, starting to stroke it while you watched, all wide-eyed and needy. “lie down.” a tinge of desperation in his voice.

you nodded, lying on your back. he yanked your shorts and panties off quickly. “what do you want, love? talk to me,” he rubbed your knee from above. you stuttered dumbly as you tried to motion toward your cunt, mouth doing you no good now.

you barely needed to speak for him to know what you wanted, poor cunt dripping in that sticky mess. a small sob of pleasure escapes from him as you whimper, lust overpowering him.

he kneeled in front of you, parting your legs a bit more, getting a good grip on your thighs. 

his tongue pushes against your puffy clit, teasing you cruelly. his cock twitches when you grind your cunt onto his face, whining and clenching around nothing. “easy, love,” he gripped your thighs, digging his nails into them, “be still.” 

you nod and bite the inside of your cheek whenever you’re about to move, wanting to stay real still for him. “sorry, simon. i’ll be good—a good girl,” you’d never even spoken like this before, let alone let someone do this to you—why were you so good to him? 

ghost groans, the words causing a shiver to run down his spine. he continues to lap at your throbbing cunt, his fingers finding their way back to your clit, teasing, and tormenting. 

at this point, salty tears are running down your face as you whine and writhe under his tongue. he held you down forcefully while his tongue dived into your cunt. “i’ve got you, love,” he pressed on your tummy, “so fuckin’ good. you know you taste this fuckin’ good?” and you just moaned in response. 

“so good, real good, si…” you tapered off into nothing but gibberish, gasping when he dipped his finger into your sopping hole. he starts to thrust his finger in and out, feeling the heat and tightness of your pussy around him. he can't believe he's doing this, but he can't help himself. 

your tears don’t stop at all, rolling down onto your neck every time. 

poor simon was a mess, damp hair sticking to his forehead while he thrust his fingers in and out of you, rutting his cock into nothing, desperate for friction. 

“just like that, love. doin’ so good f’me. so tight,” when you clench around his finger, sucking him in even more. 

you cried loudly, core burning as you tried your best not to cum all over your best friend. this was disgusting. 

he couldn’t handle not having his tongue inside of you, replacing his long finger with his slick tongue quickly, “you taste so good,” he moans, his other thumb finding your aching clit again. 

he starts to rub it slowly, his fingers seeking out your sensitive nub. "i want more," he whispers against your folds. 

“more?” you manage to speak despite your fucked out state. 

he pulls away to speak, “i want to be inside you," simon says, his voice trembling. "to feel you clench around my cock as i fuck you hard. you’re fuckin’ clueless, aren’t you?" his finger sneakily prodding at your entrance again. 

he pushes his finger deeper inside you, seeking your g-spot. “you want to, no?” he knew you would comply. you couldn’t say no, you were too desperate for his cock to fill you. for him to break you. “si..” 

“say it," he commands, his voice rough and demanding. "tell me what you want." he wanted you to admit you wanted this, to say you want his fat cock deep inside of you, bruising up that cervix. 

“want your cock, simon.” you cried out, completely ruined—and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. 

as you pant and moan, his fingers continue to work their magic inside you, seeking out your sweet spots. his tongue flicks and teases, driving you closer to the edge. "god, you taste so fuckin’ good," he added. 

he feels you tremble beneath him, his cock throbbing in anticipation. as you approach your peak, he increases the pace of his tongue, driving you over the edge. "cum for me, baby girl," he murmurs against your folds. 

“c-cummin…” you spat out. 

he feels your fluttering cunt constrict around his fingers and feels your wet heat surround his fingers as he watches, mesmerized, as your walls begin to quiver around him. "beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick. 

you came undone around his fingers pathetically, cunt convulsing and spitting out juices as he held you down. he still laps at your cunt, over-stimulating you to the point of drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

“good—good girl, ‘m right here, let it all out,” he said, “so ready for my cock, yeah?” he groaned, feeling your warmth wash over him. 

“gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?” and you nodded, you couldn’t let your best friend down.

[tojisun]

OMG ive got smth else for u

Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭

I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER

IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE

I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER

anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???

this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!

how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH

on my knees right now???

the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.

and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.

the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.

you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.

and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.

the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.

you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.

“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.

he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.

“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.

“it’s… mine?”

simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”

what the fuck?

he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”

fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-

“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”

to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.

“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”

you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.

“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.

but how could you ever?

“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”

he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.

“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”

so clearly i went fucking bonkers-

SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD

[rustedhearts]

the incident ♡ part iii (boxer!steve x fem!librarian reader)

summary: broken and blue, steve comes after you in an attempt to right his wrongs. but there's no coming back from what he's done this time.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring ✶ part i, part ii ✶ main masterlist

tags: angst, hurt/no comfort lol, breakup, talk of domestic violence-ish, violence.

recommended listening: my tears ricochet — taylor swift

malibu california, november 1992. the munson residence.

"I know she's here, Munson. Let me the fuck in."

Steve Harrington had never seemed so unhinged. In the past twenty-four hours since you fled your home and locked yourself in the Munson Mansion, Steve had done nothing but panic. He watched the rear end of his Mustang disappear down the road into a blur; and while he tried to run after you, even he knew he was no match for the speed of his own car.

So, he paced the floors. He stamped the space of the entryway for what felt like hours, shaking flashes of the incident that just occurred from his mind as they came to him in pieces. But as he paced, watching only his feet move and the floor fade away, the hole in the plaster in his periphery haunted him. His own violence, in all its tangible and terrific glory, taunted him.

Before he knew it, he was in tears and tearing up the place. His hands were raw and shaking like bad mufflers by the time the house became unrecognizable. His limbs wobbled with the delicacy of a newborn fawn just learning to stand on its own. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. The world around him shrunk down to mouse size, and the air grew short. All he could hear were your cries in his ear, sharp and heartbreaking.

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the midst of the rubble, weeping over shattered picture frames and torn pillows. Like a bad dog with sharp teeth, he always nipped when he got scared. He just wished he never pointed his bite at you.

Steve never slept. He spent the night cleaning his own mess, doing his best to steady his hands and see through the streaks of his own tears. His chest hurt from the harshness of his own breathing: heaving huffs that turned to hyperventilations. And it seemed, as shards of glass fluttered into the garbage bin, and ripped photographs collected in the pieces, that your relationship sat in there with them. At the bottom of the garbage, torn apart by his hands.

Steve knew there was only one place you'd go if it wasn't home, and there was no way you'd have gotten to Hawkins in one night. There was only once place you could go—only two other people you knew that weren't paired to Steve through obligation. In the back of his mind, tapping on the cracking glass of his subconscious, Steve felt a pang of guilt for what he knew was his doing. Your isolation had his signature scrawled across it.

Now, here he stood: at the doorstep of his longest friend, begging to be let in. His countenance drawn and drooped with fatigue and nausea, the skin beneath his eyes sagged with exhaustion.

But worst of all: his breath held the potency of whiskey, and it wasn't even nine o'clock in the morning.

"Oh, the man of the fucking hour. Hey, Harrington, how does it feel to be smacked around?—"

"Eddie, please," Steve huffed, hands cupping the doorframe at his sides.

Eddie's arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowing into hardened slits. "How 'bout we ask your girl, huh? She'd know, wouldn't she?"

Steve swallowed, throat thickened with guilt and bile. A hand left the solidity of the house to rise to his eyes, rubbing at the bulbous ache behind his lid.

"N-no, that's not—I didn't—"

Eddie dropped his arms to his sides, lunging forward until he could see the pupils of his friend's eyes, blown wide. The whites held red spindles, the corners crusted with sleep. But Eddie couldn't bother to worry about kicking a man when he was down—Steve didn't get to play wounded puppy when he loved being an attack dog.

"You didn't what?" Eddie hissed.

Steve's silence aggravated the rage Eddie was attempting to keep at bay. How dare he appear demanding things with that pathetic look in his eye? Did he know his girlfriend spent the night crying and sporting his handiwork, so conditioned to muttering excuses and defenses?

"Huh?" Eddie pressed, chin jutting forward. "You didn't shove her around? You didn't rough her up? You didn't put your hands on her, you fucking coward—"

"No!"

Eddie felt the solid muscle of Steve's chest beneath his palm before he realized what he was doing. Steve shuffled backward, stumbling down the front steps and losing his footing in the unexpected commotion.

"You fucking liar. I saw the bruises!"

Steve pushed himself off his palms, collecting himself from the ground. "It's none of your fucking business—"

Eddie's finger soared toward the house behind him. "The minute she showed up here, it became my business. And had it been my business weeks—Christ, fuckin' months ago—I would've had your ass on a stretcher far before you managed to do what you've done."

At the mention of violence, the one thing he could swallow and stomach and understand, it was as though Steve was woken from his zombie-like stupor. Chest puffing in size, shoulders rearing back and squaring off, the boxer stepped forward and glared into Eddie's eye.

"I'd like to see you fuckin' try. You're always too coked out to even know where you are, Munson."

A barking laugh shot from Eddie's mouth, sharp and cruel. "Oh-hoh-hoh, always the tough guy, huh? Did it make you feel tough shovin' her around?"

Steve's fingers curled into fists, the flashes of shattered plaster and his fist beside your head haunting his head again. He could feel that trembling ache congregating in his chest again, ready to pop like a balloon. His temper always swelled before it burst. It always made such an unforgiving mess.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Did you feel tough making her cry? Putting her down?"

Though merely an inch existed between them, Eddie seemed to tower over Steve. The rockstar glared down at his friend over the end of his nose, lifted his chin to add some height.

"Stop." More trembling gathered in Steve's fists, and he hated the shudder that crept down his spine when he thought of the way you looked when you left your home.

Were the bruises you excused with clumsiness all from him?

"Do you feel like a man, Steve? Do you feel like a man just like your daddy?"

"Fuck you!"

Steve instantly regretted the moment the bone of his knuckles pooled with pain against the impact of Eddie's cheek. It dripped over him like hot blood, and though he wished only to apologize and rid his friend of the split skin reddened and weeping on his face, all Steve could manage to do was go for another one. All he knew how to do was keep fighting.

Except, now that the first punch was thrown, Eddie felt vindicated in returning his own. The men clambered toward each other, a mess of flying hands and scuffling feet across the pavement. Curses strewn between teeth shot between them like bullets, though cruelly nonsensical and unintelligible.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you fucking prick," Eddie growled once he had Steve on the ground, hulking with new strength and the upper-hand of unbridled rage.

From the open doorway, feet bare and cheeks sticky, you came running at full force with only an unnerved Stella to follow. Unsuspecting, Eddie easily toppled to the side with your urgent shove, freeing Steve from his pinned state on the driveway. He instantly moved to retaliate, fist reaching for the rockstar—but your hands grabbed for his shirt and shoved him back.

"Get up, you fucking asshole. Get up!"

With your pulling and his eagerness to reach you, Steve stumbled to his feet. His wrath sizzled to a simmer, now distracted by your swollen eyes and wet cheeks.

"Oh, baby—" He moved to step toward you, but you held a hand out to stop him, colliding with his chest where his t-shirt had been torn in the commotion.

Eddie retreated back toward Stella, still visibly rattling with the rage he had yet to release, though attempting to calm under her soothing hands. Both men were equally torn up, but you could no longer stand to listen to their fighting from the floor above. You just wanted Steve out of here.

"Here, take your fuckin' keys. Take them and get out!"

You threw the keys at him; they pinged against his forehead and fell to the ground with a jingling clatter. Inhaling deeply, Steve took another step forward, returning to that wounded puppy pout.

"Baby, please, just let me—"

"Go!" Another shove to his chest, this one with all you could muster.

It sent him stumbling back again. When he made no move to collect the keys and take his Mustang, you lunged forward and gave another shove. If he wouldn't leave, you'd have to make him. But through all your pushing, the tears sprouted up again. Gasping for air, face twisted with more tears, eyes stinging and chest aching, you pounded your fists into his chest and wept.

"Go, go—just go! You ruin everything! Just go! I hate you, I hate you!"

You felt like a little girl, wailing and stamping your foot and pounding on the door to be freed from some cruel trick. This man was supposed to love you, but all he's done is harm.

Under your futile and gradually-weakening hits, wet with tear splotches and his own blood, Steve felt himself crumbling. In that moment, his anger fled from him as easily as the cold, leaving him with a hole the size of your fist in his heart. The vision of your anguished face blurred with the appearance of his own tears, and Steve collected your trembling fists by the wrists to hold them away.

"Just g-go," you cried, twisting from his hold—disgusted by its delicacy, because the feeling of it had become so unfamiliar.

Eddie stomped over, snatching the keys from the ground behind the pair of you only to slam them into Steve's chest with a heavy fist. "You heard her."

Steve stumbled back again, collecting the keys before they could fall when Eddie let go. With a gentle arm, Eddie scooped you behind him, placing himself as a barrier between your body and Steve's. Steve could hear your weeping even behind the interference. Numbly, he trudged toward the Mustang, fingers unsteady around the keys.

He sat in the driver seat and watched you curl into Stella's arms, drenching her in a stream of tears that seemed delirious and hysterical. He barely managed to fit the key into the engine with all his trembling, and when the engine roared to life, all Steve wanted to do was run to you and accept more of your hits so long as it meant he could be near you.

But Stella took you inside. And Eddie stood in front of the door like a watchdog, waiting for Steve to disappear like you all wanted him to.

With only the tenderness of your fists still beating against his chest, and the ache he'd always have for you throbbing in his heart, Steve put the car in reverse, and drove away.

[pure-oddity]

Simon x reader

Content warnings: MDNI, overstimulatuon, praise kink out the wazoo, PiV, female reader, it's just smut tbh.

"S-simon-"

"You're okay."

"Simon!"

"You're okay."

You whimper in disagreement, you pant and whine, shiver and shake in his arms.

He's got you in his lap, clothed bulge grinded up into your bare slit - fingers drawing devilish circles on your clit.

He's talking you through it as you lose your mind.

"Just wanna play with it a lil, tha's all. Shh, shh, you just cum love - just fuckin soak me."

The tail end of that sentence is accompanied by him sinking his hand lower between your cunt and his cock, playing with you and audibly smearing your slick around your puffy hole.

His fingers are quick to slip in and towards the spongy part of your cunts walls, rubbing war roughened digits against it.

The shout you let out might worry the neighbors, but you doubt even the police could stop a man like him when he's on a mission.

You've cum more than once already. He's thrown you past your personal limits and is eager to set a new record, ripping as many orgasams as he can from your weeping sex.

"Si - si I can't! I can't!"

"Yes you can sweet girl. You're already on the edge. Just need to tip you over an -there we go thereee it is. Good girl."

You sob and claw into the arm wrapped round your middle, as you cum again for the umpteenth time. You've lost count, but there's a stain on his sweatpants and everything down below feels slick.

He cups your pussy in a large hand and pets it. Stimulating enough for your stomach to clench but soothing enough for you to slump further in his hold. You're rewarded with a kiss to the temple.

"Ya know, you complain an awful lot for someone who asked for this. Could just use your word, let the poor girl rest." At 'poor girl' he gentles his hand against your pussy even further. You don't respond, too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

He chuckles at your stubborn silence.

"No didn't think so. Greedy pussy needs more an more, good thing I have so much to give huh?"

He shifts enough to slip his cock from his sweats and boxers, the leaky tip splatters on his stomach as it flops up. It's red and angry looking, there's a prominent vein that commands attention along the underside of the shaft. His balls look heavy and full and your cunt clenches on nothing.

He adjusts you now, depositing your upper half into the mass of pillows and blankets shoved up in your passion. Your lower half remains in his lap for a second while he admires you. Hand skimming across your ass, sinking lower to spread your lips and watch your hole twitch.

He takes his time rubbing his fat tip through your folds, using your slick to glide seamlessly against you. He slips in for a second and you try to arch back onto him in your impatience- he backs away.

"None of that, I'll give it to you when I decide you're good and ready. Need to stretch this pretty pussy nice and slow , so you'll have to wait."

He's slow, popping the head in and out fucking you with just the tip while you whimper for more. You're ignored as he watches mesmerized. He sinks ever so slightly deeper the next thrust and let's himself sit there with a groan, only to move back out again.

This back and forth of him slowly feeding you every inch of his cock drives you to a fresh wave of tears. You can't even beg properly, reduced to mindless babble. You aren't any more coherent when his hips settle against the plush of your ass.

He smoothes a hand up and down your lowerback, sliding around to your tummy - gently kneading over the spot he's sitting in. You buck up and away from the sensation, getting maybe an inch away before you're gently but firmly sat back on his cock.

"Nu uh. No running, being so good for me yea? Gotta keep being good. You take my cock, you were made for it. Now I'm gonna fuck this pretty cunt -"

"Yes! Y-es baby please!"

"And I'm gonna grab the wand again."

"No, no! Can't, I cant!"

" yes you can sweet girl, but you need convincing huh? I'll show you."

He's got you pinned with his weight against your back as he reaches for the wand. You wiggle against him regardless, all you end up doing is seating him snug against your cervix.

The vibrations hit you before you register the sound of it turning on.

"There we go. Fuck - there we go. F-feel that? Don't that feel fuckin - christ you're clenching like a bloody snare - feel nice? Fuck me I'm not gonna last."

[lipglossanon]

Radar Love

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌏🌟⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

A Little Savory tier commission for Immy<3

Word count: 1995

Thank you so much for the request! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, kissing, teasing, flirting, cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, math homework 🤭

proofread! But apologies for any mistakes | may have missed 🫣

Title from Radar Love by Golden Earring

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌏🌟⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

You didn’t think twice when Leon offered to help tutor you for the math test you were struggling to pass. And at the start, he was super helpful. Then, once you started doing much better at solving the problems on the practice sheet, he got a little more lenient, a little more intimate in his tutoring. 

“C’mon, little sis,” he grins at you, patting his knee, “sit on my lap and show me the problems you have left to work on.”

Biting your lip, you fidget with your skirt before finally moving to sit down on his lap with your back to his chest as you both face your scratch paper filled with equations. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear, chuckling when you shiver, “oh baby sis, you’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you grouch, ignoring the arousal pooling in your belly at your close proximity to Leon. 

“Ooh, someone’s got an attitude,” he pokes your side with one hand while his other fiddles with the hem of your skirt, “don’t be so mean, I’m just trying to help my sweet little sister.”

“Uh huh, sure,” you snark, grinding down on his bulge, feeling his chubbed cock twitch against your ass. 

Hissing, he grabs your hip and slowly rocks up against you. 

“Such a tease,” he grunts, the hand by your skirt hem slipping underneath to tease across the gusset of your panties. 

His fingers quickly feel out your pussy to rub up and down your slit. 

“Mmm fuck, love this fat little pussy, princess,” he kisses the side of your neck, “gonna let me slide my cock in your tight, wet hole?”

Clenching the pencil in your hand, you grind back against his bulge, spreading your legs for him to tease your cunt through your damp panties even easier. 

“I’ll think about it,” you sass and he groans, fingers finding your clit and softly rubbing circles around it. 

 “C’mon, baby, just sit on my cock, don’t even have to bounce on it, just wanna feel that snug little pussy around my dick.”

You squirm as more slick fills your panties, “I don’t know.. I really need to study, big brother. I’m trying to pass this class.”

“Fuck,” he rocks against you a little quicker, “just cockwarm me while you study, princess. Promise I’ll be on my best behavior. Really wanna feel you.”

You hum, pretending to think about it although internally you’re pleased as punch that he’s begging you. 

You sigh good naturedly, “Is that really such a good idea? You’ve been pretty distracting.”

His fingers massage across your clit making your thighs jump as you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure bubbles up through your veins. 

“Pinky promise I’ll be good,” he kisses your neck again, “pretty please, little sis? With sugar on top?”

You giggle at that, “Okay, Leon. But if you really distract me, I’m kicking you out.”

“Thank you,” he enthuses in your ear, fingers quickly moving your soaked panties down and off your legs. 

Shifting your skirt, he pulls his sweats down to his knees, weeping cock now jutting up from between your thighs to rub against your slick pussy lips. He hooks his chin over your shoulder to look down at your lap. 

He lazily thrusts against your cunt, “Can I do this for a sec, princess? Looks so fucking hot.”

You nod, eyes glued to the fat tip of his cock as precum beads at the slit to dribble down his shaft. 

“Look at that chubby little pussy,” he groans, “fuck, ‘m the luckiest big brother, huh?”

“Uh huh,” you clench your thighs making him buck up a little harder, “so lucky I spoil you.”

“Yeah you do,” he readily agrees, cock rubbing against your cunt until you squirm against his lap. 

“Putting it in now, princess,” he murmurs softly, pushing the fat tip past your clenching hole until he’s buried all the way to the hilt in your wet heat. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, teeth biting into your clothed shoulder, “so fucking wet and tight, y’got the perfect pussy, baby sis.”

Your cunt spasms and clenches down on his dick at his words. 

“Go on, work on your problems and I’ll let you know if it’s wrong,” he chuckles, big hands moving to your hips to grip them tightly. 

Tamping down the moan you feel wanting to break free, you try extra hard to concentrate on the paper in front of you and not your step brother's fat cock deliciously stretching you open. 

Leon nuzzles into your neck, brushing some of your hair away so he can kiss and suck the skin in front of him. 

“Leon,” you grit out, pussy fluttering around his cock as it throbs inside your slick walls, “behave.”

“I am,” he coos sweetly, “didn’t think something this small would get to you, princess.”

He nips at your neck and you whimper. 

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, settling back in the chair, “since you can’t handle it, I’ll just enjoy myself with—“

“I can handle it,” you huff out, “I can handle whatever you dish out.”

“Suure, princess,” he mocks, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

“Go ahead, big brother,” you grind down on his lap making him hiss, cock kicking inside your soaked cunt, “I can study just fine.”

“Yeah?” he hums before chuckling and kissing your neck, “let’s see if you can.”

Nothing happens at first. Leon runs his hands up and down your sides, groping your hips before moving down to squeeze your thighs. It lulls you into a false sense of security and you easily go back to working on your practice test. 

A gasp parts your lips when Leon’s hands sneak under your shirt to cup your breasts. Glaring at your paper, you ignore him although the slow drag of his fingers up to the stiff peaks of your chest makes your thighs tremble. 

Cupping your breasts in his hands, he circles your hardening nipples with his thumbs, brushing back and forth and sending little electric currents of arousal straight to your clit. 

“I don’t see you writing anymore,” he teases in your ear.

“I’m stuck on this problem,” you lie to cover up the fact Leon is making your cunt throb from playing with your nipples.

“Ohh,” he laughs, tugging on your hard buds gently before squeezing your tits, “let big brother take a look then.”

He leans over your shoulder and studies the paper on your desk. Humming, he keeps circling your sensitive nipples as he reads over the problem. 

“Big brother,” you whine, hips swiveling down to feel his cock rut inside your pussy.

He grunts and pinches your nipples between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger before soothing the hard buds by dragging his fingers across them. 

“It looks like you didn’t apply the correct formula, princess,” he breathes hotly next to your cheek, “try the quadratic equation.”

Body feeling like a live wire, you nod and go back to your schoolwork. 

“It looks like you’re pretty much finished though,” he kisses your jaw, “wanna move this to the bed?”

He tugs on your puffy nipples until you squeal and bounce on his lap. 

“I need to finish this, big brother,” you whimper as he keeps groping and teasing your breasts. 

“C‘mon, we can work on it later,” he tempts you, “let me rail your wet cunt until I fill you to the brim, little sis.”

It sends a hot thrill down your spine to hear Leon say that instead of just doing whatever he wants with you; it gives you a boost of confidence. 

“One more problem,” you compromise, “if you’re a good boy and don’t do anything else to distract me, I’ll let you take me to bed.”

“So bossy,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “deal, princess. I’ll be a good boy for you.”

That last part’s whispered in your ear and it makes you pull your shoulders up to your ears with a giggle even as more arousal pools in your belly. True to his word, Leon slips his hands away and holds onto your hips as he watches you work on your last math problem.

As soon as you set your pencil down, Leon is picking you up off of his lap, cock pulling out with a wet schlick that has you both moaning. He moves over to your bed, manhandling you back into his lap but this time facing each other. 

“Do good boys get to fuck that juicy cunt, princess?” He smirks at you, flipping your skirt up so he can rub his slick coated cock against your pussy. 

“Yes, big brother,” you lay your hands against his chest as you angle your hips and sink down on his cock with a whine, “good boys get my cute princess pussy.”

“Fucking hell,” he moans excitedly, “need it, princess. Sit on my fucking dick and ride me.”

Whining, you feel him bottom out as your ass meets his thighs.

“Pussy needed me to stuff her full, huh? Need big brother to wreck your perfect fucking pussy,” he rabbits his hips up into your squelching cunt, “tell me, princess.”

Your nails sink into his shirt, digging into the skin underneath, “Yes, yes, m’pussy needs big brother’s fat cock stretching her open.”

Leon kisses across your throat, sucking marks into the sensitive skin and making you squirm and buck your hips. With a snarl, he grabs onto your ass and bounces you faster on his cock. 

“That’s right,” he chuckles at your fucked out expression, “my sweet baby sis just needs her big brother to take care of her.”

He kisses you roughly, tongue and lips devouring your own as spit leaks down your chin. Mewling, you roll your hips down, grinding your clit against his pelvis and making you cry out into his messy kisses. Leon snaps his hips up, burying his cock deep in your throbbing cunt. 

“Wanna feel you milk my cock, princess,” he rumbles from low in his chest, “gonna give this hot pussy a nice creampie.” 

“Big brother,” you whimper, hands pawing at his chest as you rock your hips into his rough thrusts, the sound of skin slapping loud in the room. 

“That’s it, work my cock with that slutty princess cunt,” he hisses, one hand coming down to spank your ass. 

Squealing, you clench around him as he keeps slapping his hand down on your ass cheek.  

“Gonna make me cum, big brother,” you whine out, bouncing hard and fast in his lap, “gonna milk your cock so good.”

“Fuck me,” he groans, swapping to slap the other cheek, “such a tight cunt, princess. This little pussy’s just begging for a hot load, right?”

He angles his hips until his fat cock grinds against your g-spot on every thrust, tightening the band of arousal pooled in your belly.  

Reaching down between you, his fingers rub soft, quick circles on your clit. 

“Cum,” you mewl, “g’nna cum, big brother, Leon—“

A high pitched wail leaves your mouth, pussy clamping down on Leon’s dick— walls fluttering and milking him like crazy. 

“So good,” Leon fucks his cock up into your clenching hole, “milking me so fucking good, princess. Gonna stuff this fat pussy like she deserves.”

He curses under his breath and buries his cock into your soaked hole. Groaning loudly, his cock spurts rope after rope of thick, sticky cum inside your wet heat. Rutting his cock softly inside your cunt, he shoots off again and again, painting your pussy walls white with his load.

Once his dick softens, he pulls out of you with a sigh and you slump forward onto his chest. His sticky spend drips down your thighs onto his softening cock. 

“Mmm, wanna nap and pick it back up again?” He murmurs, petting down your back. 

“Sure, after we clean up though.”

He laughs, “You got it, princess.”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I wonder how would lucky story go if she met the strawhats crew when there were younger instead meeting them when there 17? Instant big sis or instant mother figure🤔

Honestly, Lucky already is going to have a big sister-esque relationship with most of the straw hats, so I went with her being a mother figure. No yandere stuff here because they're all kids.

Careful What You Wish For

Child Straw Hats x Reader

2.2k words

“Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!”

Thankfully, the stars aligned, and against all odds, your mother actually answered, “(Y/N)? You never call, what’s going on?”

“Oh thank God, I need help!” You were practically weeping from relief.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Oh I knew this would happen with all that exploring you do!” Your mother flipped from concerned to scolding in record time.

“No, it’s not that! I don’t know how,” you take a deep breath, “but I just became a single mother of seven and I don’t know what to do.” You elect to keep the information that one of these kids is, in fact, an anthropomorphic deer to yourself. You gotta ease her into this.

The line is silent for a minute before your mother speaks up again, but not without an exasperated sigh, “This isn’t funny (y/n), I thought something was actually wrong. Don’t offer to babysit that many children if you can’t handle it.”

“No! You don’t understand! I didn’t-” you’re cut off by the sound of the line going dead. This bitch. You don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Maybe both. Of course she didn’t help, you honestly don’t know what you expected.

Loud sniffling from above your head called for your attention. Chopper, the previously aforementioned deer, has been perched on your shoulders and clinging onto your head for dear life practically since he got here because Luffy bit him. You blindly reach up to pat his head, internally grateful for the fact that he’s stopped crying.

The patter of tiny feet coming right for you catches your attention and you look to the side to see Luffy charging at you with Usopp trailing behind him. Oh boy. This kid was a lot, but he also did really weird shit. His limbs stretched like he was made of rubber, something that nearly gave you a heart attack when he first revealed this.

His eyes locked onto your cell phone, “What’s that, let me see!” Without even giving you a chance to respond, his arm does the stretchy thing and snatches it out of your hand. He turns it over in his hands, visibly perplexed by it. “What’s this supposed to be?”

You try to get it back, but kids become masters of evasion when they have something they aren’t supposed to have, “Give that back Luffy, you’re going to break it!”

“Nuh-uh! I’ll be careful with it!” He disagrees as he immediately drops it. Luckily for you, Usopp catches it before it can hit the floor.

“I know what this is! It’s… um… it’s,” Usopp examined the phone closely with the same level of confusion that Luffy had despite his previous claims that he knows what it is. 

Fortunately, he was too focused on your phone to see your hand coming and you were able to grab it out of his hands. You hastily stuff it into your back pocket, “It’s just a phone, don’t worry about it.” You walk away from them, wanting to locate the rest of the kids that have since dispersed.

Luffy followed behind you like a duckling, reaching up to tug on Chopper, “Hey, come down and play with us!”

Chopper only clung onto your head tighter, “No! You’re gonna bite me again!” You winced at the feeling of hooves digging into your head.

“I won’t do it again! Don’t be such a scaredy cat! Er- Scaredy deer!” 

“I’m a reindeer!” Chopper snapped indignantly. You mentally made a note that he’s a reindeer, not a deer.

Luffy was not deterred by the protests and decided to take it a step further by slingshotting himself up your back. You yelped at the sudden action, completely being thrown off balance. Luffy only giggled at your distress.

Between Chopper flailing from Luffy invading his personal space, Luffy treating you like a human jungle gym, and Usopp latching onto one of your legs (presumably not wanting to be left out of the chaos), it’s hardly surprising when you topple over. 

Chopper was dislodged immediately, tumbling away from you with a scream. You groan from the impact and force yourself to take a deep breath so you don’t explode at a bunch of young children. It doesn’t help that much. You look over your shoulder to glare at the two kids still attached to you, but whatever scolding you had in mind died on your tongue upon seeing Luffy’s smiling face. Dammit. He has no idea how lucky he is that he’s adorable.

You pushed yourself up, shaking Usopp off your leg and reaching behind you to pluck Luffy off your back. He giggles at being held upside down in front of you, not a care in the world for what his mischief caused. You try your best to at least look stern, “It’s not very nice to knock people over, you know.”

“I didn’t think you would fall over just from that! You’re kinda clumsy,” he has the audacity to laugh in your face. 

“You little-” your eye twitches, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not a good idea to swear in front of children. You dropped him into your lap, which only made him laugh more and squirm around to get upright. The second he is, he latches onto you again.

“You should come play with us, too!” His smile almost breaks you, but you have other things you need to do. Despite your mother’s assumptions, this isn’t some babysitting job. This is some bizarre case of seven children spawning into your living room with no warning or explanation.

“Maybe later. I need to go check on everyone else, okay?” It takes a bit of effort to pry him off this time, his rubbery arms being surprisingly strong. He’s pouting when you do manage to pull him off, but quickly shifts his focus onto Chopper who is hiding behind a chair. Well, hiding is a strong word for what he was doing. Only like half of an antler was actually obscured from view.

The reindeer took off like the devil was chasing him, Luffy not far behind. You decide to let them work this out. Luffy probably won’t bite him again, maybe they’ll be able to settle their differences. You massaged your temples in a half hearted attempt to ward off your oncoming headache.

“Are you okay?” Robin put the book she was reading down enough to peer at you over it. She was the oldest one, looking to be either a preteen or very young teenager. The girl was very quiet, choosing to keep to herself and curl up on your couch with one of your books.

“I’ll be alright,” you say unconvincingly. In reality, you feel like you’re about to have a panic attack, but you’ll keep that to yourself for now. There’s no need to dump all of that on her. 

She regarded you with a high degree of uncertainty, clearly not buying it, but shrugged it off. Her eyes flitted back to the book, “Okay, but you might want to go check on Nami.”

“Why?” Panic spikes in your heart, wondering why she was saying this.

“She ran off with your purse a while ago,” Robin offers nonchalantly, nodding her head in the direction of your bedroom. 

“Oh come on!” You sprint towards the room, kicking yourself for not taking note of the suspiciously closed door sooner. Upon throwing open the door, you find the culprit kneeling on the ground next to the dumped out contents of your purse. She looked surprised to be caught, but distinctly not ashamed. “Get out of there! You shouldn’t go through other people’s belongings!”

Nami doesn’t even flinch, only smiling cheekily at your attempt to scold her, “Your money looks weird, and you don’t even have that much of it.” As she’s saying this, she pulls out the sorry contents of your wallet. Some crumpled up singles you got as tips at work along with some loose change.

“Hey! I don’t need that from you!” The last thing anyone needs is a small child calling them broke. You lunge for the wallet. While you do manage to grab it, it doesn’t mean much. Not when she’s already got tiny fistfulls of crumpled bills and coins. 

Nami bolts, but not before taking a second to stick her tongue out at you. You run a hand through your hair and hazard a glance down at the wallet. Completely empty. You just got robbed by what looks like a six year old. That’s a new low for you. You heave out a sigh and decide to let it go for the time being, you’re pretty sure all she really made off with was maybe $4.27.

This still leaves two kids unaccounted for, and you are almost afraid to find out what they’ve gotten up to since you’ve become distracted. Steeling yourself, you exit the room and begin your search. 

Robin is still reading on the couch, but now Chopper is curled up next to her, looking frazzled. Usopp is messing with the remote to your tv, and Nami is hiding (poorly) under your table while counting her (your) money. Luffy is nowhere to be seen, but you can hear him so you at least know he hasn’t run away.

On top of that, you can also hear bickering coming from your kitchen. Hurrying over there, you find the last two kids arguing with each other. Over knives. These kids are going to put you in an early grave, you’re sure of it. 

“No! You can’t have them, I just finished sharpening those!” Sanji kicked Zoro’s shins, trying to wrestle three knives away from him. One of which was in his mouth while the other two were in his hands. 

“I need them for practice, you can have them back later!” Zoro speaks shockingly clearly despite having a paring knife clenched between his teeth.

“Drop it!” You screeched, startling both of them. Zoro didn’t even get a chance to put the knives down before you swiped them away. He started to protest but shut his mouth after you glared at him, “I don’t want to hear it! No knives! Go play with sticks like every other kid!” Zoro crossed his arms and huffed, but ultimately settled for stomping out of the kitchen. 

Sanji, on the other hand, was proudly beaming at you, “I wanted to cut up some fruit for you, Nami, and Robin, but all of your knives were dull so I sharpened them for you!” 

The kid looked so proud of himself that you couldn’t find it in you to be as upset about him handling knives as you probably should be. “That was very nice of you, but you shouldn’t be handling knives at your age. Please just ask me to do it if they get dull again,” you do your best to keep your tone kind but firm.

Sanji cocks his head at this, “No I’m not, I work in a kitchen and do this all the time! Old man Zeff taught me how.”

What in the child labor? You shake your head, you’ll question that more later, “Well you’re not working right now, you’re in my home and I say no using the knives.”

Sanji pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. He grabbed onto your legs and looked up at you pleadingly, “But I know what I’m doing! Please! It’s not just a job to me, I love cooking!”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t cook, just no using knives,” you tried to assuage him, but he’s still looking at you like you just robbed him of his passion. “Okay, how about I let you, but only under supervision?”

The compromise causes him to perk right up and nod his head enthusiastically. He looks like he wants to say more, but is interrupted by someone else coming into the kitchen. You don’t even need to turn around, recognizing the sound of sandals slapping across the floor.

“I’m hungry! Do you have any food?” Luffy was staring up at you pleadingly, as if he would wither away any second. 

Oh yeah. Having a bunch of kids around does mean that you have to feed them. You internally cringe, you barely have enough food for yourself most weeks. Still, you can’t just let them go hungry, it’s not their fault they’re here. You did just do your weekly grocery shopping trip yesterday, so you do have enough to feed them right now. It definitely wouldn’t last you all the rest of the week, though. You’ll have to figure something out.

“Sure! Give me a few minutes and I’ll get lunch ready,” you force a smile on your face despite your worries. Sanji looks up at you expectantly, “Yes, you can help.”

He grins and hops up onto a stepping stool so he can get to work on slicing the apples he set out. While he does that, you rummage through your fridge, grabbing what you need to make sandwiches. You honestly don’t know what you’re going to do food-wise after today, but you’ll worry about that later. 

This is certainly an interesting change of pace for you.

[didhewinkback]

Something Old

Written for @harry-on-broadway's fic challenge.

Written prompt used: "What's this, then?"

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

A/N: the pic represents more of an overall vibe rather than a definite representation of what he is wearing. but the vibes of the pic are absolutely accurate. some liberties have been taken with accurate chronology of his dating life bc this is fiction town usa baby. takes place during the fine line era, in a world with no covid. dream world. please let me know what you think!

-----

There was a huge water fountain, right in the middle of the hotel courtyard, making criss-cross patterns into the pool below and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It was soothing, in a way. Or at least you were trying to force the concept of being soothed upon yourself, trying to focus in on the sounds of the water and the lights reflecting off of it. Anything to not think about the background noise of the party, of the clinking glasses and what that sound would mean, to think of him – nope. Back to the fountain.

Your mother cleared her throat. Her eyes had been burning holes into the side of your face but you couldn’t face her or that look of pity in her eyes. Your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase as you kept your eyes on the water. Just keep staring at the water.

“Did you call an Uber or…?”

“I’m just going to take the rental back to the city and go from there.”

“You could always take it back to the house. Bit of a drive but…”

The thought of walking into your childhood home, alone, while his own childhood home sat right next door was too much to bear. “I don’t,” you cleared your throat as your voice caught, “I don’t think I can be surrounded by all those memories. God, Mum, this is so embarrassing –”

“Oh, baby, no. Come here” Your mom rushed over to you and wrapped her arms around you in a death grip as you let yourself collapse into her arms, feeling 8, 15 and 26 all at once. The tears which you had been trying to save for the drive poured out of you, your mum shushing you as you buried your face into her shoulder. She stood there and held you tight, letting you release all the emotions you had pent up since you got here. You had never had an explicit conversation with her about your true feelings for Harry but with the way she was holding you, you knew you never had to. She knew. The thought made you tighten your arms around her, burying your head a little deeper as the tears flowed. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m getting your dress soaked,” you said, trying to pull your head away and pull yourself together before your mum tightened her arms around you, holding you in place.

“Could give two shits about my dress.” “Mum!” “I’m serious, I don’t care. Not when my baby is weeping in my arms.”

“Okay, I’m hardly weeping,” you huffed a laugh as you took a step back and wiped your face, looking into your mum’s kind eyes, glassy in their own right.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Tell him what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head before she even finished her sentence. You had tried that, years ago. Winter break 2013. He had been gone almost two years, touring and traveling the world while you watched from afar at uni. You had walked down your stairs, rehearsing your big speech in your head while smoothing down the new skirt you bought for the occasion, only to look up and find him in your living room with the most famous pop star in the world in his arms. He had brought her home to “meet the family” he said. Which included you. You were just family. And he dated pop stars now. A gut punch that you quickly healed with copious amounts of tequila. And a drunken hookup with a boy from sixth form. It was fine. You were fine.

You had been best friends since you were 8, neighbors since you were 6, and for years you brushed off your crush, chocking it up to an extension of affection for your first male friend - the boy who made you laugh until you cried, who always needed help with math homework, who dragged you onto the dance floor when everyone else was too nervous to at that first school dance. The boy who stood in front of you in his bedroom, nervously singing along to a Youtube track before asking you if this was something you thought he could do, for real. The boy who invited you to join him a few weeks each summer, riding bikes through muggy Colorado streets for late night froyo or hiking those Hollywood hills. The boy growing into a man who called you when you were studying at the library, in the middle of the night halfway across the world, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure and needing a piece of home to slow his exhausted, racing mind.

This crush was something you thought you would grow out of. Except you didn’t. His life had become drastically different than the one you two had shared in your small hometown but whenever you were together, it was like no time had passed. After that fateful winter break, you had tried to keep your distance but each time you saw him, you were sucked right back in.

There had been more moments - falling over yourselves during a drunken McDonalds run, or during a screaming match in the middle of a very competitive round of charades, or when he bounded off stage after that first solo night at MSG, wrapping you in his arms and holding tightly - moments where the words were about to burst from your chest, overwhelmed by the love you felt for him. But you knew it would never work - he wasn’t interested. And, even if he was, you were nowhere near his league. Even his one night stands were straight off the Forbes 500 list. Not that you were ashamed of yourself or who you had become, you just knew, for many reasons, that there was a disconnect there. He wasn’t interested. You were family. You had to keep it that way.

You steeled yourself to get over it, to be okay with just being his friend. And you had convinced yourself it worked. You had met his girlfriends over the years; no longer tearing yourself apart in comparison as you blossomed into that confidence that comes with getting older and finding your place in the world. Falling into relationships with some really great guys, guys that you really cared for, who made you laugh and met your family on your birthdays. But no matter how hard you tried, those relationships always seemed to fizzle out because you never felt that spark. That once in a lifetime spark. That spark you felt the second you saw him yesterday - a smile blooming across his face as his arms lifted up in a cheer when he locked eyes with you. All that hard work shot to shit in an instant.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head more fiercely, desperately trying to get those memories to fall out of your head forever. “That’s not how he sees me, Mum. It’s not - this is just something I have to get over. But I can’t do it here.”

Her face fell, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Okay,” she said, looking at you with new determination. “So, what’s the story? Work emergency? Appendicitis? Stomach virus? Uncontrollable pooping?”

“Mum! Oh my god!”

“What?!” she shrugged, her eyes glowing with a playful twinkle as she watched the smile grow on your face. “I just feel like the more details we provide, the more believable it will be.”

“Whatever you have to do,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pulled her into another hug.

“It’ll be okay, lovebug,” she whispered in your ear. “This pain won’t last forever. He’s not the be all, end all.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” you said softly, tightening your arms around her, unable to stop yourself when more tears began to fall. “I really have to get going, I don’t want anyone to see -”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got progressively louder as the doors swung open. Your stomach sank as you heard the last voice you wanted to hear. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two. Ang? - Oh. ”

“Yeah?” Your mom turned to face him, blocking you from view as you furiously wiped away your tears.

“Mum’s been looking all over for you. Something about a bet involving tequila shots…”

“Ah, was hoping she’d forget about that. Tell her I’ll be in in a bit, just need to help this one -”

You cleared your throat, keeping your head down as you nudged her forward. “No, Mum, it's fine. Go in. I’ll be okay.”

She turned to look at you, eyes searching. “But you’re not feeling. well.” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on your forehead. Oh, god. No Oscar in her future then.

You looked at her, feeling his eyes on you, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Really. Have fun”.

“Love you.” She kissed you on the cheek as she squeezed your hand, whispering, “Be brave”.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you heard her walk inside, closing the doors behind her. Enveloping the two of you in silence. You looked up, taking him in for the first time all night. He knocked the wind out of you.

His white suit was tailored to perfection, the dress shirt open in a deep v down his chest, revealing the smattering of tattoos that you swore he’d regret one day, but that only looked perfectly in place as his muscles grew more defined. His hair, curls tousled just the way you liked it. The smattering of scruff along his chiseled jawline, held tightly as he took in the scene in front of him. He looked good.

You can’t imagine what you looked like. Tear tracks streaking down your face and hair messy from how often you had been nervously running your hands through it. Dressed for a cocktail hour while wearing your sneakers for the quick getaway. You had to get the fuck out of here.

“Thought only the bride was supposed to wear white.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. This was not the time for banter. You should be in the car already, leaving all this behind you. You snuck a look at his face, his green eyes locking with yours, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked right at you, his deep voice rumbling as he shot back, “Wanted to be dramatic. It’s my day too.”

“Classic H.” you said. You could not get your feet to move. Your car was no more than 10 paces away and yet here you were, frozen under his questioning gaze.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked, as he took in your suitcase, the car keys fiddling around in your hand. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Uh, a work emergency came up.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it’s not -”

“Your mum just said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shit. “Both things are true. H, please just - I have to go.”

“No, I think I have the right to know why my best mate is leaving my wedding weekend early. Why you’re standing out here with your mum and - are you - were you crying?” He looks desperately confused, eyes searching your face. “Need you to talk to me.”

He takes a few steps towards you when he notices your hands visibly starting to shake. “Hey, hey…” He reaches his hands towards yours as you quickly put your hands on your suitcase, pulling it towards you. You take a few steps back and try to take a few steadying breaths.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice when you're gone. Haven’t been able to find you all night, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Wanted to spend time with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the look on his face, trying to not think too hard about those words. Trying to be casual, nonchalant. Trying to be anything but the crumbling mess you were in front of him. “C’mon, I’m not even in the wedding party it’ll be better -”

“Is that what this is about? You knew we were keeping it small on purpose, didn’t think you needed to be in the bridal party to know how much y’mean to me but I guess–”

Anger suddenly swirled in you, turning your cheeks warm, eyes blazing. As if you’d be out here having a full mental breakdown over something so trivial. You scoffed, “You think I’m out here crying because of some arbitrary fucking title? You know that’s never mattered to me when it comes to you.”

“Then WHAT is going on with you?”

“Can you please just drop it and let me –”

“It’s my fucking wedding, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. I need you here and you’re just standing outside with your car keys and your fucking suitcase like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing–

“Oh my god, how can you even say that – ”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’m flying blind here you won’t TALK to me–”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU MARRY HER!”

The words were loud, louder than you meant them and out faster than you could stop them. Fuck. This was. Not. How This. Was supposed to go. You shut your eyes. Your mind was racing, mouth trying to move to make an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything and then you hear a derisive snort, your eyes flying open to see his, suddenly colder, taunting.

“‘S that what this is about, then? Never did like her, did you? Always wondered when we’d have this conversation. Thought you may have been a little more fair and try to do it before my wedding weekend but hey, guess I’m not the only one who can be dramatic.”

You stood there, gaping at him, tears pricking your eyes as he glared back at you.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s so wrong with her?”

Oh, he misunderstood. You could let him think this is the truth, that you’re just some bitchy childhood friend who never approved of the fiancée and waited until the last moment to make a dramatic exit. You could leave right now and let him think that. But he needed to know the truth, as painful as it may be. You began to shake your head, the tears seconds from pouring out.

“No, that’s not - you’re not understanding me.”

“Am I not? Seems pretty clear to me” His tone was still taunting, angry. He had every right to be. This was supposed to be the biggest weekend of his life and here he was, out here with you, instead of partying with all of his loved ones mere feet away. The thought of it made the tears spill over, a small sob escaping you. Through the tears you saw his face drop, his brows furrowing.

“It’s not her. She’s lovely. She’s so lovely and you should be in there with her. You could be marrying fucking Beyonce and I wouldn’t be okay with it. I … I can’t watch you marry someone else without - without wishing it was me instead.”

You watched as he froze, his eyes widening. In shock? Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure.

You took a deep breath and kept going, continuing to dig yourself into the grave of your own making. Every part of you was screaming at you to stop, but now that you got started, the words kept coming, “I’ve been in love with you since we were like 15. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I…god, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes. You’re the first person I want to make laugh with a new lame joke, the first person I want to share good news with. The first person I want to do anything with. You’re kinda it for me. Always have been. You’re just my favorite person in the world. And I –”

You shook your head, cutting yourself off. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your cheeks burning. You stand there, slightly panting, watching him watch you, his own eyes glassy, his own breath coming in fast spurts. Neither of you dared to move.

You stand there, watching as your confession explodes between the two of you, helpless to do anything but stand in the carnage. It is deadly silent. A minute passes, then another. It could be five, it could be twenty. What did you just do?

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.”, you said frantically, your brain finally catching up to your mouth. “You should go back inside. I’m –”

He inhales sharply, head shaking in disbelief, “Y’think - y’think I’m going to go back in there right now? After–? Fuck.”

He drags his hand down his face, bringing his other hand to meet it and standing there with his head in his hands. You wish you could get a good read on him, to tell how he’s feeling, but you just stand there, heart beating wildly, in disbelief of what you have done.

“I’ve got a reception hall full of people here.”

“I know.”

“People traveled for this.”

“I know.”

“Why - why now? I had no fucking idea. Why’d you never tell me before?”

“I tried, but the timing was never right – ”

“Yeah, well, your timing right now is impeccable,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, though his sense of humor reappearing made a zing of hope run through you. Maybe he won't hate you forever. Maybe, one day, the friendship could be salvaged. Maybe you didn’t just embarrass yourself beyond belief - though your burning cheeks indicate otherwise.

He clears his throat, pulling you out of your racing mind. “This whole time…you’ve felt this way? This whole time?”

You had been expecting to confess and run. For him to smile politely at you, let you down easy. You had spent your whole life believing this was a one sided thing. But here he was, looking utterly wrecked, his green eyes never once wavering from yours.

“Yes, H,” you told him. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

You watch as his face crumbles slightly. He brings a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, a mumbled, shaky “fuck” leaving his lips.

You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes, praying your waterproof mascara is doing its job. As much as you want to live in this fantasy of possibilities, you can’t let yourself make more of a mess of this than you already have. He was getting married. Tomorrow.

“H, the last thing I ever wanted to do is ruin this for you”, your voice shakes the more you look at him, “I will be fine. You should go back inside. I’m going to go.” You grab your suitcase and keys and start to make your way to the car. The sound of his voice calling your name stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking.

You turn to face him, finding him staring right back at you. His glassy eyes ablaze, his jaw set. You don’t make a sound.

“Please.” He closes the distance between you in a few quick strides. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to your jaw. You’re sure he can feel the warmth there, blooming at his touch. You lock eyes with him, both of you barely breathing. After a second, his thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his hot breath on your lips, the smell of mint and tequila filling your nose. You might pass out.

“This is a lot to process,'' he whispers.

“I know.” You try to pull your head back a bit to give him space, but he holds you steady in his grip. His other hand falls to your waist, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact.

“I have to go back in there. Supposed to get married tomorrow,” he whispers as his thumb starts to draw circles on your hip bone. You’re sure even he can hear your heartbeat at this point, the way it’s thundering in your ears.

“Y-you don’t owe me anything, you know”, you whisper back, his brow furrowing as he feels your breath on his lips. “Just because I told you. There’s no pressure or anything. I know, like… I’m not….I’m not expecting - I should -”

He takes a step closer to you, pulling you flush against him, effectively cutting you off. “Don’t. You can’t. ‘S not pressure, I just - I don’t know”, he takes a deep breath, “I need time. Please. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go back in there but don’t leave tonight. Please.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“Please.” His words fall across your lips as he moves to kiss your other cheek.

“Fuck. I wish…just - please don’t go.” He leans in slowly, kissing you once on the neck, right below your ear, inhaling deeply. His forehead falls to your collarbone, resting there. “You can’t go, not yet. Not until…Please. I need time to think. I don’t know. Promise me you’ll still be here later tonight.”

He lifts his head, holding eye contact with you until you nod, bringing your hand up to wrap around his wrist, moving your thumb in soothing circles. He stares at you, eyes dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His grip on your hip tightens, his eyes dropping to your lips once more.

You hear glasses tinkering, calls of his name. Shit. You take a step back, his hand sliding from your jaw to your wrist, holding a loose grip. Your cheeks burning at how caught up in the moment you got, head reeling at what this could all mean.

“I have to -” “I know.”

He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead, not once letting go of your wrist.

He steps back, his glassy eyes flitting all over your face before meeting yours once more and holding your gaze. “You’ll be at the hotel later tonight? You promise?”

“I promise,” you say, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

He nods sharply, walking backwards towards the door, eyes never leaving yours. He stops right before the entrance, quickly wiping at his eyes, shaking his head. You can see him physically brace himself as he pulls the door open, a tight smile on his lips as he gets pulled into the party once more.

The doors close, once again surrounding you with silence. With your own thoughts. The feeling of his lips on your neck playing over and over again in your mind.

Holy. Shit.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✧*̥˚ Under the Sky *̥˚✧

✧ Mature Content. Minors DNI. Warnings below the break ✧

✧ Pairing: fairy king!yeosang x chubby!fairy queen!reader

✧ Summary: The night of your wedding you disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Regaining your senses, you set out to return to your true love.

✧ Genre: ateez fairy au, romance, adventure {smutty at the end}

✧ Word Count: 1.9k-ish

✧ Warnings: Mentions of death. Reader has some injuries. Unprotected fairy sex. I'd say "wrap it up" but darling, you're a fairy. Have a ball.

✧ A/N: This is for @anyamaris and her absolute love for fairy Yeosang. Thank you for trusting me to write this. Love you forever, sis!

The fae believe that each soul, upon its entry into the realm of the living, is split in two. It’s said that to find your other half is to find a love so deeply rooted in the land of the fae that, should you ever part, the Fates themselves would shift to reunite you…

Hours have passed since you awakened in a graveyard of sorts. Found in the darkest reaches of the forest, it's desolate. No singing blue birds or fields of which to frolic. Only shallow graves dug in packed dirt and a thick smog that carries the nauseating stench of death. Nothing survives there. You aren’t sure how you did or how you even got there. What you do know is that your wedding dress, spun from the silk of a dozen spiders, clings to you now in tattered strips. A dozen scrapes and bruises adorn your body. None of which you notice in the presence of the sharp pain shooting through your back. Your wings, once grand and glittering, have been stripped from your back. An evil, depraved act that not even the fearsome creatures who you crept past to escape death's valley could bring themselves to do.

Night descends swiftly as you push on, at last reaching a point where the air is crisp and the forest is lush. You stop along the way to drink from sparkling ponds, nibbling on foraged berries for strength. Purple means poisonous but the blue ones are safe. Or was it the other way around? You shake it off. Your thoughts drifting to your husband Yeosang. Please don't think I abandoned you. I'd never. I couldn't. A girl like you from such a humble background marrying the king of the fae had been the talk of the town. People spoke of the riches you’d inherit. The luxury you’d live in. For you, none of that mattered. You'd call home a dry rotted tree stump if it meant having him by your side. You were only wed a few hours before your disappearance. Why? How? You shake yourself for answers only to come up empty-handed.

A firefly zips past your face, snapping your attention back to the world around you. The energy here, it’s different, familiar. In the distance, you hear music blended with the laughter of mothers and their children. The baritone voices of men sing a song that brings you back to your childhood. Back to…“Home!” you cry, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You race towards the sounds, dodging weeping willows and woodland creatures busy carrying on their own business. Bursting out into a clearing you find yourself at the center of your village. It’s the annual May fair and the streets are so packed that you’re swallowed by the crowd. Your lip quivers, tears flowing, as your attention shifts beyond the extravagant celebration to the castle sitting at the summit of the trees. Through a stained glass window, a single light shines.

“Yeosang!” you shout, shoving your way through the crowd to find a way to him. The villagers begin to notice you. The music gradually dies down to reveal exchanges of “The queen. The queen? Can’t be. It is!” “Yeosang! I’m here!” you’re shouting in every direction, intent on continuing until your throat’s raw. “I’m here, my love! I'm...aah!” What little breath you have left is knocked out of you when you’re swept up into the air. You look down to find the villagers growing smaller and smaller. You’re flying but how? “My queen. My treasure. You’ve returned” Yeosang beams, holding you close. The mere sight of him makes your head spin. The face of your love, heavy with hope and sadness, is the last thing you see before everything around you goes black.

“If anyone steps foot through these doors without my approval kill them!” Yeosang commands the soldiers lined up before him in the throne room. “If I have to do it myself I’ll send you into the afterlife with them!” In all his years as king Yeosang had never so much as raised his voice at his people. Admired for his gentle strength, the loss of you had filled him with a rage that burned wildly enough to destroy everything in his reach. And he'd done so, regrettably. In search of his love. In search of you. Word spread quickly that, in your absence, Yeosang had embarked on a rampage soaked with the blood of his enemies. “The Mad King” they came to call him, not to his face of course but he heard their whispers. “Gone, she is. He needs to accept it. Probably nothing but bone by now.” Yeosang never listened, he refused to. You would be together again. He'd accept nothing else.

The pitter-patter of a maid’s feet against the pearlescent castle floors provides some relief to the soldiers. “My king! My king!” she squeaks, nearly out of breath. Yeosang motions for his men to disperse, “What is it, Fern? The spiders again? I’ve told you, they work here. You must stop being so frightened of them.” “No, it’s the queen. I took her to the bath and she…” She carries on explaining but he’s already whipping through the halls in search of you. Bursting through the doors of the washroom he finds everything as it should be. The only peculiar thing is you, dripping wet before a mirror carved in cherrywood. Bubbles from your bath still gliding down your generous curves. Your back’s turned to the mirror, your attention fixed on the bruised, raised skin where your beautiful wings once were.

“They’ll never come back? Will they?” you say with enough despair to break him. Yeosang plucks a towel from a nearby hook, proceeding to dry you off. “In time” he sighs, working his way up from your feet to your calves, “Until then I’ll carry you wherever your heart desires.” Wrapping his arms around you, he releases the towel to lay his hands upon your wounds. His wings pulse, radiating a soft blue, as he massages the tension from the damaged muscle. “But you are as fierce, as exquisite a woman, as you were with them” he whispers, “And I swear that whoever has done this will feel your pain tenfold.” “When did you become so vengeful? Such a beast you've become” you coo, placing your hands on either side of his cheeks. Yeosang draws you in closer, resting his head on your shoulder.

He breathes you in as you pet wings and you can’t help but giggle at the way they shiver when you touch them. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his head popping up. You do your best to stifle your amusement, “Uhm, nothing. Nothing at all” A seriousness creeps across his handsome face, his lips suddenly meeting yours. “Do it again...” Never one to back down from a dare, you drape both arms over his shoulder, fingers lightly stroking his wings. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he asks between passionate kisses. You shake your head, heat rushing down between your legs as he presses his hardening arousal against you. “Show me…” Too entranced by his kiss to watch what you’re doing, you blindly tear at his clothes until not a single shred of garment separates you.

Cradling the back of your neck, he pulls away from your lips, kissing along your collarbone. “As you wish, my love” he hums against your chest, nibbling at your pillowy breasts. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock against your tender bud and it’s your turn to shiver now. To rock back and forth along his length, the slick from your aching pussy soaking him from base to tip. “Yeo…Yeosang…so good” you moan, the friction setting off sparks in your system. Yeosang feverishly laps at your heaving breasts, tasting them as your chest rises and falls, your breaths growing shorter the more you grind down against him. “That’s it, darling. Use me to make yourself…mmm…feel good” he urges, tilting his hips so that his swollen head teases your entrance.

You catch yourself biting down on your own tongue, dragging your clit along his shaft, your walls already pulsing, desperate to be filled. “Inside of me. Please” you whine, hips stuttering, “Need you, Yeo…” He peaks up at you, your eyes glazed over, so needy. How could he refuse you? He raises his hips, fingers reaching between your legs to spread you wide for him, feeding you his cock painfully slow. He has to take his time with you. Feel the way your thighs tremble. The way your core contracts each time he goes the slightest bit deeper. Your low, soft moans in his ear are sweeter to him than his own pleasure. With every stroke your sounds grow fractured, those sparks having grown into full blown fireworks, setting off within your very essence. Yeosang grabs you by the hair, thrusting into you with such force that all thoughts of anything else leave your mind.

Any words you say are incoherent, your limbs moving as they wish. You are in heaven. The pressure builds. Unbearably strong. Dominating your senses. “Fall apart with me” he whispers, lovingly palming your scars, “I will carry you always. I promise.” “Aah…I…I…” Whatever you meant to say escapes you, your high crashing against you like the roaring tides of some vast ocean. The waves are unforgiving, taking more and more of you each time. Steadying your weakened body against his, he buries himself into your depths, your walls clenching around him, hitting just the right spot to trigger his own release. His seed gushes into your womb, warm and sticky, marking you as his own for the first time since your wedding night.

Struggling to catch your breath, you collapse onto his chest, suddenly aware that you’re no longer vertical. You tilt your head to the side to find that the floor might as well be worlds away. You’re…on the ceiling. “You…have to…warn…me…” You attempt to scold him but can’t focus with him still grinding into you the slightest bit, filling you to the point of overflow. “But it’s so much fun not to” he teases, kissing you all over your face. “Cut it out” you giggle, not meaning a single word. “My king! Did you…” Fern starts, fluttering into the bathroom. She scans the washroom for a moment before looking up. “Oh my gods and goddesses!” she screams, startling Yeosang enough that you both fall from the air, his wings stopping you a mere inch from the ground. 

Throwing her hands over her eyes, she flees into the hallway shouting “I’ve seen nothing! Carry on!” You move to climb off of him but he won’t let you go, his arms still locked around your waist. “Do you mean to chase her in this state?” “I don’t know! I just…we’ve traumatized the poor thing.” you sigh, burying your face in his chest out of embarrassment. It’s been so long…too long…since he felt you curled up against him this way. “I love you so dearly, Y/N” he sighs, kissing the top of your head. You return the kiss to his shoulder, “And I, you, my king.” You curl up there, floating in the arms of your love. A nightmare behind you and a dream before you. After a long, perilous journey you are, at last, home.

[simonssniper]

Dilf! Priest Simon x Reader 1/?

WC : 1,382k

CW: Fem Reader, Creampies, Dacryphilia, Spanking, Face slapping, Rough! Simon, Sacrilege (they fuck in a church), Catholic Priest Simon, Age Gap, Reader is 19, Simon is 38, Corruption, Degradation, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Hair pulling. 18+ MDNI.

The usually filled pews of St. Christopher's Angel's Church were deserted. After all, it was a Monday evening, and the hymns of the choir no longer filled the air. But in its place, according to Simon, was a much sweeter melody—your sweet moans. Followed by the unmistakable slapping of skin, his against yours. No other harmony could ever compare to this. And even still, he wonders how he got here. Yet some part of him knows that this was inevitable; he had entered a losing battle from the minute he saw you. Sly exchanged looks of desire, and building tension can only go on for so long before someone cracks, and Simon was in pieces.

His usual gentle voice sinks into a menacing, stern tone. "This is what happens when you tease. When you look at me like a whore begging for my cock during mass, when you should be focusing on bible verses instead," and the vulgar words accompanied by a rough hand coming down on the flesh of your ass have you keening against him. A chorus of yesyesyes barely being able to escape alongside your desperate mewls and gasps. You never thought something so unholy could feel this divine.

You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't fantasized about this specifically, and on multiple occasions. And him being sinfully gorgeous didn't help one bit. Slicked-back blonde hair, a defined jaw littered with stubble, his towering height and muscles, the accent...it was no surprise that the other sisters tended to fawn over him as well. The church's golden boy was generally loved. Your feelings only escalated further when you noticed the kindhearted priest's ring finger was empty. You knew you had to get closer. Even if you couldn't have him the way you wanted, at least you'd still know him, right? Maybe you'd be satisfied with that—at least, that's what you told yourself in the beginning.

The respected head priest , a saintly missionary. Had been reduced to nothing but a man who was unable to resist one of his more carnal and frowned upon desires, lust. A sin said to be one of the greatest downfalls of men, and he knows it's true because you are the undoing of him. You’re fat hips are pushing pack to meet his cruel thrusts with vigor, and he knows he’s supposed to be a man of God, a role model who teaches the holy texts. But with the way your walls are strangling his cock, he thinks he’d rather be reborn into a lifetime of sin for a millennia if this is how delicious it was. And this had only been a small taste, a tiny indulgence on the long list of vile things that he wanted to do to your sweet, pliant body.

Simon knows he should feel ashamed, and on some level he does. For goodness' sake, he was supposed to be an important role model, especially for the youth of the church. But instead he was defiling one of them—a sister he occasionally counseled in the holiest of places. More specifically, he had her spread out on the altar. If this act alone didn't condemn him to hell, he didn't know what would, so he might as well make sure it was worth it. Brimstone and hellfire couldn't compare to the flames that were currently running through his bloodstream because of you.

He can't seem to decide whether or not you're a demon or an angel, so he decides you're both. Because there is absolutely nothing angelic about the way your pussy is weeping on his thick cock. No heavenly being would allow themselves to be bent over the altar with their clothing littered on the carpet like this. Eyes rolling to the back of their heads as the crucifix above them witnesses the whole indecent act altogether. So this is where his dilemma begins, because only an angel could be this beautiful. Have those innocent, doe eyes that made him want to corrupt you since day one. That gorgeous laugh. But maybe it isn't worth thinking about, at least not right now. Not when he finally has what he wants in the palm of his hand.

Everything about it was completely obscene. A sheen of sweat coating his, and your skin. You were fucking like animals, and the worst part is that you both got a thrill out of it. It was really quite simple: Simon was the predator, and you were his prey. The pretty little bunny who stumbled across the wolf . And he'd devour you again and again until he was satiated. His hands couldn't stop their attack on your lush skin even if he wanted to, he would sink his teeth in so deeply that no one else would even dare to look at you. Your plump ass was now a deep shade of crimson from his bruising assault on it, and your pretty eyes were flowing. A cry escapes your throat, and he quickly has a fist tangling in your hair to see the sight for himself. Angling your head backwards to see that adorable face, aren't you a vision? Your makeup, at least what's left of it, is almost gone. Drool running out of your open mouth. He's already made you come twice.

It's humiliating. Being unable to do anything but stare dumbly through the blur of your tears. And a moment passes before the man cruelly laughs at what he's reduced you to, you swear his eyes are a darker shade. His husky voice rings out. "Look at you, all dumb and cock drunk for me. This is all you needed, wasn't it?? Needed me to bully this little cunt. Hmm ??" Brutal thrusts never stopping because he wants to see you struggle. "Answer me bunny ,I wont ask again" the priest says in an even harsher tone. It's too good, too much, and you're trying to remember how to speak, which clearly isn't done fast enough for his liking. Seeing as his palm strikes one of your tear stained cheeks before you can even blink. A half moan, half gasp of y-yes! escaping your plush lips at the harsh treatment, fingers grasping at the edges of the altar for dear life. How could you go back to living without this pleasure?

You've gone completely boneless beneath him now, shoulders giving out and unable to hold up your weight any longer, top half slumped on the sleek wood. Taut nipples resting on the surface. The fact that the beloved priest you'd come to know had a side so devilish to his friendly demeanor only muddled your brain further. There was no doubt that you were thoroughly enjoying it. Hell might be waiting for you, but at least the journey there will be filled with his cock. How could anyone resist pleasure like this? Slick drips down your thighs in a never-ending river, lewd sounds following every time he sinks into your plush hole. Simon doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of it, or of you.

He's nearing the edge now, and he's going to take you with him. A hand drifts down to massage your head sweetly. "That's it, pretty girl, just one more time for me. Let me fill you up" And with a faint hum of approval from you, he's dragging his agile digits between your trembling legs. Thumb going to caress your sensitive clit with his thumb. White-hot pleasure building up to the limit for the both of you. Guttural groans part from his lips, and with a few more motions of his hips and thumb, you're both falling together. Kitten like whimpers sounding from your mouth.

Your battered cunt milking him for all he's worth while he fills you to the brim. So completely and utterly full. Any guilt and doubt that he had once felt is gone because he knows he'd choose this every time, choose you every time. And he makes sure to get the message across by littering your neck and torso with gentle kisses. "You did so well, so so well for me". His words instantly put a dopey smile on your face. Only reaffirming the thought that you wanted this man to be yours forever.

AN//: This was my longest work / fic ever?? I plan To release multiple parts for it Soon. Hopefully you guys enjoy because I tried my best and was very proud of how this turned out. Bye!!! <3333

[coallise]

Found family mostly fluff: Emily falls, but it's not Charlie who's there to catch her and help her sort out her new life, it's Carmilla. Charlie's hellborn, she doesn't know anything other than hell, but Carmilla is far too familiar with the culture shock, with the pain of losing paradise, and worse the pain and guilt of failing Sera, of hurting her in the quest to do the right thing.

It's more adoption than found family, but I hope you like it.

Three for three

“Sera please, don't do this,” Emily begged, she was on the edge of heaven. Sera wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I told you not to question him. No one can, not me and not you. Just, just make this easier for both of us,” Sera held her spear tightly.

“Sera!” Emily tried again. Sera closed her eyes and pushed Emily off the cloud, sending her down to hell.

In hell, the sky flashed gold and a small burning light could be seen. Carmilla’s chest tightened and she ran out of the meeting. “No, not another one.”

With a few hard pumps of her wings, she rushed into the sky and caught the fallen angel in the air. The girl was weeping, calling for someone named Sera.

“I'm not Sera, but I'll keep you safe,” Carmilla rubbed her back and smiled, only a few feathers had been burned off in her short fall. She wouldn't have to deal with her entire center of gravity changing.

“It hurts so much,” Emily clutched Carmilla’s chest.

“I know, nena, I know,” Carmilla sighed before flying to her warehouse. She entered her office through the skylight and set Emily down on the couch. The girl’s clothes were almost completely burned off and the burns turned her skin bright red in spots.

By the time her daughters came in, Carmilla had used the whole bottle of burn cream and bandages.

“Mama, whose that?” Clara asked, inching closer to the crying girl.

“A fallen angel, we should let her rest, mija. Falling is hard on someone,” Carmilla rubbed her daughters back.

“She looks so young,” Odette pointed out.

“Si, can you two prepare a room for her? She looks to be a size up from Clara,” Carmilla handed over her credit card. The two nodded and rushed out.

It took two hours for Emily to calm down enough to take in the scene. Carmilla was working on her tablet, running her fingers through Emily's hair as she worked.

“Hi?” Emily squeaked.

“Good, you're up,” Carmilla put down her tablet, “how do you feel?”

“Hurt, pain, confused,” Emily said, rubbing her eyes and noticing the bandages.

Carmilla nodded, “welcome to hell. I am Carmilla Carmine.”

“The angelic weapon dealer?” Emily tried to sit up but cried out in pain.

“Yes,” Carmilla petted her a bit more, “don't worry, I won't hurt you.”

“I just wanted to do the right thing.”

“I believe you.”

“Sinners don't deserve to die.”

Carmilla nodded and listened to Emily’s woes gradually get more and more difficult to understand with her crying until Clara knocked on the door.

“We got the room set up, mama, I brought up some clothes for her,” Clara held out a green dress.

“Thank you,” Carmilla sat Emily up and helped her into the dress.

“I'm Clara,” Clara held her hand out for Emily.

“Emily, Emmy, Em, whatever you want to call me,” Emily smiled.

“Let's get Emily downstairs, are you hungry or would you rather just sleep?” Carmilla hefted Emily in her arms and started to carry her to the elevator.

“Food please,” Emily snuggled into Carmilla’s chest, “the people in hell are way nicer than I thought.”

Both Carmine's laughed, “nah, most are awful. You just got lucky mama caught you.”

“We can teach you the rules of hell when you recover more.” The elevator dinged on their floor, Odette was already preparing lunch.

“Mother, is that our new sister?” Odette asked.

“I don't adopt every downtrodden child that ends up in my office!” 

“Thou is two for two,” Zestial said, appearing behind her.

“Hello, Zestial,” Carmilla rolled her eyes and put Emily down in a chair. “She is only staying until she can navigate hell on her own.”

“If thou say so,” Zestial said at the same time as Odette and Clara said, “suuure mama/mother.”

Carmilla took the spatula from Odette and finished cooking while the girls asked Emily a million questions. Most being her favorite color or music.

It took a week until Carmilla was sure Emily had recovered enough for the first lesson.

“Deals are very powerful down here. If you must make one, be very specific and never offer your soul. No one does anything for free,” Carmilla started.

“Even you?” Emily squirmed on the couch.

“Don't worry, mama just gets another daughter after this,” Clara whispered. Carmilla just rubbed her head.

“Not adopting her.”

Odette and Clara laughed.

“You can tease her like that?” Emily whispered.

“Of course, she lets us know if we go too far,” Odette nodded.

“Sera would never let me tease her.” Emily rubbed her arm.

“Well then, tease mama then. Call her mama, or say,” Clara whispered the second thing in Emily’s ear.

“Uhm, ¿Cuál es el animal que es dos animales? El gato, porque es gato y araña? Did I say that right?” Emily asked. Carmilla had her face in her hands.

“Unfortunately, you pronounced that stupid joke perfectly, and you two, stop being a bad influence.”

“Bad jokes are not a sin, mother,” Odette pointed out. The three bickered back and forth a bit longer, making Emily smile. If this was hell, she could learn to like it.

[chaoticallyfragmentary]

Dabi x Reader

Hurt/Comfort. I want Dabi to hold me and LoV to tell me that they've got me. Is that too much to ask?

Imagine this happens somewhere after Dabi's fight with Endeavor. Doesn't follow canon. Dabi is afraid and wants to leave you before you could leave him.

You fight awake, mouth pulled open in a silent scream you cannot vocalize, quirk lashing out. Reality returns to you in fractures. You could feel Toga holding you, trapping you in place. Shigaraki looks at you as you sit up, “You’re alright, kid,” he says softly. “You are not there. You are here, and we’ve got you.” He smiles, eyes a touch downturned as all at once, the fight drains out of you and you slump, gasping for air, finding yourself weeping, exhaustion seeping into your bones.

“You’re alright, kiddo," Big sis Magne whispers, her hand gently squeezing your neck. “Where’s Dabi?” You ask instead. “He,” Toga clearly hesitates, but then she holds your gaze. “Don’t go to him now. He ---”

“He doesn’t want me, I know.” Your chest feels like it might crack open, the vacant cold of terror, of the half formed thought that Dabi might’ve been gone replaced with the surge of hot anxiety as he will leave sharpnel in his wake, vacant caverns in your heart if he decides to end whatever it was that you had.

But of course, you go right to his door. It is late, a certain kind of stillness to the night, like the whole world is caught in slumber, except for those rest doesn’t come easy to. You’re almost certain that he’s awake, hand poised to knock.

“Dabi,” you call softly and the silence that greets you makes you physically flinch from the ache behind your ribs. A grotesque laugh bubbles up your throat, a worn out sound. You had to suck in a breath and swallow down the rising pressure in the back of your throat.

“Touya, I-I-I, I don’t know if you are listening… but I love you, and none of it was your fault,” you murmur. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath as you fight every impulse to implode into a million pieces. All you want is a little reprieve.

“Love,” croaks a voice form the other side of the door and you press your hand over your mouth as the tears flood your eyes, desperately trying to muffle the sound that rises up your throat, hitched and weak. Silence again but now that you know that Dabi is standing on the other side, you want to tear the door off its hinges, you want to crawl into his arms, you want and you want and you are trying so hard to keep it together, half laughing, half sobbing as you choke out, ”It’s so good to hear your voice. Thank you.”

“They told me you were alive, but I had to see for myself.”

There is no response for so long that you think maybe he’d left, maybe he'd fallen asleep but then the door opens up a silver and you swivel, peering through the crack, the smell of forest fire instantly flooding your senses. Dabi sobs out a hoarse laugh as the door wrenches open all the way and he barely braces himself before you are, quite literally trying to crawl into him, wondering, for one brief moment if, but then his arms are around you and he cannot stop crying as you attempt to meld into him, barely leaving a silver of space between your bodies. You aren’t sure who is clinging to the other harder, digging your fingers into each other, holding on as if the fear that the other might be wrenched away from you had been carved into your bones. You feel Touya’s face buried in your shoulder as he trembles, and he can feel your arms wrapped around him, fingers curled tight in his hair, breathing short and stuttered.

Dabi wants to comfort you, but he’s too busy falling apart at the same moment, both of you barely hanging on by a thread. But you are in his arms, and he is holding on, and maybe, just for tonight, this is enough.

[amethysttribble]

I'm rereading Everlasting Song in honor of the new chapter update (love it great job!!!) and thing I never noticed before: Do people assume that Maglor and Maedhros are lovers? Like Oberyn/Doran and others? As the explanation for why they are so close/devoted to each other? And, I really should have noticed this earlier, are the boys like well known for being super attractive since they are reborn elves which makes them hot and honorable? (With an approx least honorable elf = most honorable man in westeros metric) Is Varys considering this in his hot talented men who have show no interest in women conspiracy??????? (Curufins cute crush aside)

Thank you so much for this ask! It made me laugh so hard, sorry for the late reply.

Haha, yes; quite a few people think Maedhros Tully and Maglor Sand are lovers. I'm not surprised you didn't notice as it's a joke I play with very quietly, but it's there.

It's kinda a common rumor/salacious bit of gossip that's spread around, especially in Renly and Loras's circles and then also Edmure's circle.

Renly tells everyone that they're together (he has no proof of this), Loras maintains that 'perfect lord and knight Maedhros' hasn't 'realized' but does subconsciously return Maglor's feelings, while poor Mags is being strung along.

Littlefinger is also a hateful little gossip, and he actually refutes the rumor, saying he has a DIRECT line to Maedhros, there's no way he has a lover, he'd KNOW. Maedhros would come to him first if he was looking to dally. No no, he's much too uptight.

Meanwhile, Edmure HATES Maglor, because he has a general beef with singers and he's jealous that this random bastard is stealing his brother's time. He also thinks his brother could do much better, Edmure knows very accomplished knights of similar 'inclinations', what's so special about Maglor, anyway?

But after he finds Maedhros weeping on the floor about Maglor's 'death', he's extremely kind and sympathetic. He's goes to Cat and is like, "Here's the deal, sis, our brother's boytoy is dead and he's devasted as only two men bonded homoerotically can be, it’s a warrior’s bond” and Cat's trying to calculate all that in her head with everything she just learned about Maedhros's 'Fin', and suffice to say the two of them have had QUITE the background conversation about Maedhros's love life.

Oberyn and the Sand Snakes USED to think that Maglor was massively in love with Maedhros. Oberyn has tried to have a few conversations with him about it, to say nothing of his sisters, who were annoying about it, haha. But eventually they all got the hint that Maglor isn't lying, he's serious when he says he loves Maedhros as a brother, it's not like that, and also he's not interested in a relationship with anyone, actually.

This was a hard pill for Oberyn to swallow, lol. I think he's still doing the mental calculus about it, actually, but he's reached the 'if you say so' stage of acceptance, where he doesn't get it, but he's not questioning it.

And yes, the boys are all considered quite tall for Westerosi men (tho they certainly aren't their Elven heights) and pretty damn good looking (tho, again, not in an Elven way - their features have been adjusted. If you were to put portraits of the elf boys and the westeros boys next to each other, there'd be a pretty stark difference, even if it would still be obvious they're the same people). I do think the hotness is scaled, tho.

Celegorm 'the Fair' and Maedhros 'Well-Made' were the hot ones in Valinor, and remain such here (once Celegorm was older and knighted and the two of them were traipsing around the Riverlands together, they must have been a dangerous pair to look at, haha), while the rest of the boys are generally above average. But it's not like they're all a bunch of super models.

But Varys is kinda like ??? about the whole thing, because it is a pattern. I don't think he pays too much attention to the women thing, because his notes look like this-

Maedhros - Gay. Sad.

Maglor - ??? Sneaky. Visits brothels but does not buy. (His spy methods remind Varys of himself, so he doesn't think its weird)

Celegorm - Has the Ned Stark Raised Bastard Trauma, is terrified of conceiving.

Caranthir - Slut (Caranthir is interested in women! As mentioned in his last North to South chapter, he's had a handful of 'friends w/ benefits' in the Red Keep who he's gone to third base with; he was really hoping Arianne would take his 'virginity' lol, since there was no threat to her reputation, but alas. Politics.)

Curufin - Crush on Lady Sansa

Amras and Amrod - Nine Years Old

But they do all still clock as weird, as not one of them does the typical Westerosi man thing of going to brothels or participate in that culture. Not even Caranthir. He has consensual relationships with lower status women with clearly communicated boundaries and expectations. I think he might be the most suspicious one all, actually.

Thanks again for this ask!!

[miracles-and-butterflies]

How the reunion with the others will go?

Dolores hadn’t been as cheerful as Isabela had been to be freed. Sure, she was relieved and grateful, but neither of her cousins got a hug or anything. Dolores had only gotten close to Mirabel to inspect the loss of pigment and see if she could understand this gift. Like Isabela though, she seemed to share some jealously that this hadn’t been the gift she was assigned.

“I don’t understand,” Dolores muttered, following Mirabel and the man down the corridor. “It would be the perfect gift for me.”

“It would be fun to mess with people with.” Isabela agreed.

“No. I would use it properly, unlike some people.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun, prima.”

“I’m just being honest. Tell me I’m wrong. I can think of a dozen gifts that would be better suited for Mirabel. This easily could have been mine. But as usual, the miracle hates me.”

They came to a stop by a door. The man fidgeted with the keys in his pocket, trying to find the right one. Mirabel herself was fidgeting with her fingers, eyeing up some of the damage - the corridors were better lit than their cells.

“Whose room is this?” Isabela asked.

“Tía Pepa’s.” Mirabel supplied.

Isabela nodded in understanding. “I’m saying after we get her out, we all go on a kill— I mean, we’ll go distract the centre staff, while you can get Luisa out. Because something tells me, she’s going to be a pain.”

Mirabel stopped. “You aren’t going to do anything illegal, are you?”

“No, of course not. I’ll just tie them up in vines, sis. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl didn’t look convinced, but was too busy in keeping on task that she didn’t say anything more.

“We’re gonna go on a killing spree,” Isabela explained, whispering to Dolores.

“I got that.”

“Just making sure.”

“Stop whispering in my ear. It’s weird. You aren’t five.”

“First to a hundred kills gets to be in charge?”

“So long as you can’t use your gift.”

“Won’t even need it.”

In the meantime, the door had been unlocked and Pepa practically flung herself out the cell. She abruptly pulled the three girls into a tight hug, repeatedly pressing kisses to Mirabel and Dolores’ forehead and Isabela’s check (due to height different).

“I was so worried about you all,” she weeped.

“Mama, you’re getting us drenched.” Dolores complained through her smile. She waved a hand above them, trying to clear the clouds.

“Ay, Lolita, you’ll live.”

“I’m not going to be much help if I catch a cold.”

“So me and Lola have a competition going,” Isabela explained. “To see how many scientists we can distract, while Mirabel goes to get Luisa and before we blow this place up. You want in?”

Pepa released the trio, stepping back and during her eyes. She got a proper look at each of them. Dolores didn’t look too rough, maybe a little malnourished and more grown than she remembers her daughter to be. Isabela, also more grown, looks to have been the case of a few beatings but she is still as bright and energetic as always, so she can’t be too badly injured. Mirabel, covered in marks and paler than she is in places, sends a lot of questions through her mind but again, doesn’t look to be anywhere near as bad as when they escaped the last time.

She steps towards the youngest, brushing a hand through the now white hair. “Will you be okay on your own?”

Mirabel nodded. She gestured to the man frozen in place just behind her. “I should be. Luisa’s cell isn’t too far and I have him.”

“Who is he?” She furrowed her brows.

“Some random guy,” Isabela shrugged. “Mirabel got her gift; mind control.”

“We’ll explain on the way.” Dolores promised, tugging at her mother’s hand.

Pepa clearly wasn’t too pleased with the idea of leaving Mirabel alone, but also knew that they would have a better chance if she was helping the fight with Isabela and Dolores. Julieta had been alone when she died and now… she pulled her niece back in for another hug, only pulling away after giving a final piece of advice.

“You are not wrong for defending yourself, okay? Be careful.”

[zablife]

The Fight

Summary: After Bonnie loses his first fight, you’re worried he’s been seriously injured.

Author’s Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted a fluffy fic between a Shelby sis and an injured Bonnie. In this fic, reader is Finn’s twin sister.

Warnings: injury, mention of blood, drinking

"Bonnie!" you screamed, watching your lover fall to the mat with a thud, blood spraying across the canvas in a thick gush. You watched Aberama cup his hands around his mouth to call out to Bonnie across the ring, but you could barely hear anything as the crowd around you went wild and the blood in your ears rushed to drown it all out. Your heart beat against your rib cage as you wondered what would happen if he didn't get up. 

Polly held you back from rushing toward the ring, stroking your hair. "I knew we shouldn't have let you come," she said remorsefully. You buried your head in her shoulder unable to watch as the other fighter was named the victor.

Lizzie convinced you to wash your face before returning to the emptied arena. Then she snuck you a few sips of gin as you waited for news. Finally, Finn appeared with his cap in his hands. 

"Is it bad, Finn? Tell me the truth" you begged, sniffling back your tears. You'd watched Bonnie fight plenty of times when you'd accompanied your twin brother to the bare knuckle brawls, but this was different. This was a prize fight and the stakes were much higher. The other fighter looked like he wanted to kill Bonnie and for a moment you thought he had.

Finn hung his head and bit the inside of his cheek, all the signs he was about to lie to you. "He's alright, y/n."

"You're lying!" you said, hitting his chest repeatedly as hard as you could. "You swore everything would be fine, Finn! You and Tommy and Arthur all said he'd win, but look what's happened!" 

Finn held your hands away from his body, remaining calm as he hushed you. "Stop it, would you? He is alright. Nose is broke, that's why there was so much blood, but the trainer's got it stopped now so you can go see him if you like." With that he let you go and you flew to the locker room to be with your boyfriend. 

Upon seeing you, Aberama excused himself and you began to weep again at the sight of Bonnie's bruised and bloodied face. His right eye was swollen shut and his hands looked just as bad. He eyed you wearily, waiting for the lecture he knew he had coming. Instead you ran to him and hugged him tightly where he sat. "Oh, God, Bon. I thought he'd killed you!" you sobbed, clutching onto him.

You felt Bonnie's Adam's apple bob against your shoulder and you knew how guilty he was feeling. He hated how much you worried for his safety. "M sorry, dove. So sorry I scared you," he said quietly, rubbing a hand over your back gently as your cries subsided. After a few moments of silence he mumbled into your hair, "You knew that's what was supposed to happen though, didn't you?"

You pulled away in shock, shaking your head in disbelief. Wiping a tear from your cheek you said, "What are you saying? You did it on purpose?"

Bonnie nodded slowly. "I thought you knew the fight was fixed." He gave a shrug before he added, "Had to make it look realistic. It's all part of the business."

Your anger began to grow as you realized Tommy put him up to this. "You mean...you let a man break your nose tonight just so you could make money for my brothers?"

Bonnie's mouth hung open for a moment before he stammered a reply. "Well...yes....but getting my nose broke wasn't really part of the plan." He cracked half a smile, hoping you'd laugh at his joke, but you stood with arms crossed over your chest expecting more of an explanation.

Bonnie hopped down from the table and placed his hands over your arms, stroking them up and down. "The money is for us, y/n. I wanted to be able to buy you a ring," he started, then became shy unable to find the words before beginning again as his hand rose to your cheek. "Tommy's already given his blessing. Now I'm hoping you'll agree to marry me...If you ever forgive me that is," he said searching your eyes.

Your breath hitched as you realized what he was saying. How clever of him to get out of this mess by proposing now, you thought. Suddenly, you didn't care, but you did need one more promise from him before you would say yes. "Of course I'll marry you, you stupid, reckless idiot!" you laughed. Bonnie broke into a wide grin and took a deep breath in relief.

"But first, you have to swear you'll tell me before you do anything like this again. We'll talk about it and decide it together," you said seriously, raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for a verbal agreement. His good eye sparkled with mischief, but he didn't dare argue.

"Anything you say, Mrs. Gold. Now, can a champion have a kiss?" he asked cheekily, running his hand down to the base of your neck and attempting to pull you toward him.

"Are you daft? I'll suffocate you with that broken nose!" you reminded him. "Besides, I'm still mad at you," you warned, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. You laced your fingers through his and kissed his swollen knuckles with care. "I do love you though, Bonnie. I reckon if you're brave enough to do what you did tonight, you're brave enough to be married to me."

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

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@easilyobessedbutflighty

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@peakyrogers

@christinasyellowflowers

@retromafia

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@peaky-cillian

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@look-at-the-soul

@cillmequick

@l1-l4

[danganronpa96]

its me again >:)

i made a playlist out of the songs u gave to my last ask so i thought id send the link so people could have it. as long as u dont mind ofc ^^

(also i didnt know what to make the photo so i chose one of my fav cgs from dr96. i dont think theres any spoilers in it but lmk and ill change it)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4S4xAohJxXtYzwC9nw5jWe?si=oJwO-b9mTN6bcgjEG8j_NQ

Oh this is really cool! I mean if we could come up with a song for Krabs and Peter it would be the full deal but I still have no idea myself (I was thinking Krabs could have a song about greed or being a leader but all that comes to mind is 'Biggering' and that's. not very fitting for him in DR69 lol)

Also it's sweet to see that's your favourite CG! Despite how it's old art to me, it is the first image of the dummy trio together so it's got a sentimental sort of role (sobs cries weeps)

[snickerzanddoodlez]

Finally Doing one of These!

ABOUT ME

NAME: SnickerDoodlez / SnickerzandDoodlez / Snickernova Doodlez

Nickname: Any variation of this! Snicky, Snicker, Doodlez, Snickerz, SnickyD…

Main Social: https://youtube.com/@snickerdoodlez9210?si=ZXtyZJl8kPCLS8iB

And as for Tumblr, you’ll see me more on @crown-of-roses-thsc !

She/Her; Straight; Minor

Hobbies/Skills: Drawing, Animating, Coding (learning), Writing

Language: English, American Sign Language (learning)

Neurodivergencies: OCD, ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, maybe Autistic

Random Facts:

-I’m a theatre kid!

-I love horror / disturbing things, maybe a little too much

-I grew up on the Warriors fandom, and that’s an angsty angsty burden I’ll carry into every fandom I join

-I’m the director of Wordgirl Rewired!

-I’m a Christian, but don’t let that scare you off- I’m just here to have fun & spread positive vibes! *sticks a golden star sticker to your forehead* And I’m a huge horror fan…and fantasy fan….and I draw a lot of gore….Christians stop gatekeeping creativity (impossible? Not clickbait? Don’t try at 3:AM???)

Oh, and Friendly reminder to my fellow Christians that if you’re cursing someone out for doing or believing or BEING something you don’t agree with, you’re literally doing the opposite of what Jesus did….and I think you’ve got a might big plank in your eye that ya need to take out ;)

Sona:

~READ MORE FOR WAY TOO MUCH INFO~

Fandoms:

Wordgirl

The Henry Stickmin Collection

Don’t Starve / Don’t Starve Together

Wings of Fire

Warrior Cats

A Hat in Time

Wild Kratts

UnderTale / UnderTale Yellow

Favorite Movies:

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Live-Action Beauty and the Beast

Princess and The Frog

Secondhand Lions

Lilo and Stitch

Stranger Than Fiction

Into The Woods

Isle of Dogs

The Greatest Showman

Les Miserablés

Padak

The Rise of Miss Power

Coraline

School of Rock

Favorite Musicals:

Beetlejuice

Phantom of the Opera

Into The Woods

Les Miserablés

Heathers

Guys and Dolls

Favorite Color:

Magenta

Favorite Show:

Spy x Family

Wordgirl

Gravity Falls

DuckTales 2017

Camp Camp

Bojack Horseman

Parks and Recreation

Favorite Song:

House of Memories (Panic! At the Disco)

As the World Caves In (Matt Maltese)

Please Never Fall in Love Again (Ollie MN)

Karma (AJR)

Red Flags (Tom Cardy)

Lost One’s Weeping (Neru)

Cupid (Jack Stauber)

Goodbye to a World (Porter Robinson)

Sweet Rosalie (American Murder Songs)

No Children (The Mountain Goats)

The Haunted Phonograph (ThouShaltNot)

Puff The Magic Dragon (Peter, Paul & Mary)

The Ballad of Billy The Kid (Billy Joel)

Stranded Lullaby (Miracle Musical)

Business Man (Tom Cardy)

Favorite Song Artist:

The Stupendium

They Might Be Giants

The Mountain Goats

Jack Stauber

Lemon Demon

Evelyn Evelyn

Tally Hall

American Murder Songs

Mother Mother

Kaden McKay

Favorite Book:

Crookedstar’s Promise

School for Good and Evil

Warrior Cats (Arc 1)

The Bunker Diaries

Prisoner of Azkaban

Survivor Dogs

Favorite Food:

French Fries

Croutons

Goldfish

Kanelope

Favorite Game:

A Hat in Time

The Henry Stickmin Collection

Splatoon

Wolf Quest: Anniversary Addition

Don’t Starve Together

King’s Quest

The Witch’s House

Super Paper Mario

Cuphead

Undertale

Favorite Animal:

Tasmanian Devils

Rats

Kangaroos / Wallabies

Komodo Dragons

Dragons

Pigeons

MY BABY BOYS:

(Note: I am not defending any of these characters, and these are not fictional crushes. I just like skrunkly little fictional simps and gravitate towards the characters everyone hates)

Felix White (Henry Stickmin)

Tobey (Wordgirl)

Nuka (The Lion King 2)

Whisper (Survivors)

Spike (My Little Pony)

Spike (Friendship Is Witchcraft)

Minetta (My Hero Acedamia)

Hort (School For Good and Evil)

Sheldon (Splatoon)

Lefou (Beauty and The Beast)

Tammy (Tammy)

Plankton (Spongebob)

Zach (Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt)

One-Eyed Wally (Amphibia)

Emmet (Legally Blonde)

Dr. Hare (Poptropica)

Todd (Bojack Horseman)

Muck (Bob the Builder)

Octavio (Splatoon)

Pokétwo (Discord)

Tom (Parks and Recreation)

Rumplestiltskin (Shrek 4)

Squid (Wings of Fire)

Darkheart (Care Bears II: The Next Generation)

Zach Varmitech (Wild Kratts)

Garry (Ib)

Bartok (Anastasia)

David (Camp Camp)

Varian (Tangled the Series)

Frankie (Spy x Family)

Mayor Humdinger (Paw Patrol: Movies)

Mortimer Freeze (Cuphead: The Delicious Last Course)

Wally Warbles (Cuphead)

The Peas (VeggieTales)

Chameleon (Wings of Fire)

Jax (The Amazing Digital Circus)

Wilson (Don’t Starve)

Mad Dummy (Undertale)

Napstablook (UnderTale)

Toad (Mario)

Flick (Animal Crossing: New Horizons)

Ares (Percy Jackson)

Louie (DuckTales)

Gyro Gearloose (DuckTales)

Sirius Black (Harry Potter)

Hawt Sauce (Chikn Nuggit)

Swiftpaw (Warrior Cats)