#also yes i know the drawing is bad i rushed it

[breadbrobin]

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

[cowboylor]

hotline

you call matty when you're bored.

warnings: (18+) smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex (kind of?), degradation, oral (f. receiving)

wc: 1k

note: i completely blame this on me seeing the 1975 last week and being consumed in a brainrot over [REDACTED]. anywho this wasn’t the larger work i’m working on just a a sweet, totally chaste blurb of our good ole pal matty.

"Hello?"

His voice is worried. You've never called this late before. Even in the past when you were out with friends and just couldn't wait to tell him just how jaw-droppingly fit you found him. Or when you've missed your routine phone call while he's on tour and call him back hours later with a rushed apology and an eager inquiry about his day.

Those were late; but never this late.

"Hi," You say.

It comes out pitchy and you screw your eyes shut at the way you sound. Like you're clearly out of breath and heaving against your mattress. Like you're struggling to hold your phone up to your ear as your hand wanders below your panty line. Like you're completely, utterly desperate for him because let’s face it—

You've got it bad.

Matty pauses. "Everything alright?"

"Oh yeah," You say quickly. Shifting against the bed, you move to sit up against the frame. "Everything's fine, just... Miss you is all."

"Miss me," He repeats your words in tut, his voice sounding relieved when hearing nothing is wrong. You hear him shift (wherever he is--in his hotel bed or maybe on the couch). "Why's that?"

You tuck your lip between your teeth as your fingertips pry at your folds.

"Can't I miss my boyfriend?"

He hums over the line. "Of course, of course."

"It's just been a while."

A while since a lot of things. A while since your last phone call. A while since you've seen him ever since he left for New York. A while since he's fucked you if you’re mentioning the obvious.

He goes quiet on the other line and your hand slows.

"Darling."

You wince, your fingers returning to your clit. "Yes?"

"Are you playing with yourself?"

You snap your hand away like you've been burned. Your mouth falls open and you can practically hear his amused grin through the phone.

"No." You hiss, face burning.

You glance down.

He chuckles at your insistence. "Are you sure?"

He can read you like a book.

"Positive."

In more ways than one.

"Not rubbing your clit?" He asks, his voice lowering.

A whine escapes you and you know you're in for it.

You dip a finger into your underwear again, swiping at your bundles of nerves experimentally. Stifling another whine, you lean your head back against the headboard.

"Darling," He breathes out. You perk up at the change in octave; listening closely to hear the buckle of his belt clank and his quiet exhale. "Are you lying to me?"

Rolling your eyes back as you toy with your clit, you sigh into the speaker: "Do you think I am?"

"No," Matty huffs a laugh. You can hear him fumble with the buttons of his pants. "My girl would never act like that."

Your mind grows fuzzy and all you can think of is his voice and how it sounds reverberating through your phone—how it would sound when he's hovered over you, how it would sound when he's buried between your thighs.

Because you’re not a stranger to that sound. Not unfamiliar with the way he holds your legs apart while lapping at your core. With the way he needs to keep your thighs in place or else you’d be squirming against his mouth both drawn in and out from all the sensations you’re feeling.

(“You’re so sensitive,” He’d say, groaning into your cunt. “Even before you come you’re twitching and whining—like you're in fucking heat or something.”)

“Like–” Your eyelids feel heavier as you draw out sharp, tight circles. “Like what?”

He hums. “Like a whore.”

Heat pools and you meet the warmth with the pad of your fingertip.

You swallow roughly, relishing in the sound of his breathy groan as you imagine him also touching himself. Also getting himself worked up to the point where his thighs shake and his fingers threaten to pull away.

“‘m not a whore," You defend through bitten lips.

Prying yourself open with one finger, your timid touches become erratic. Less controlled and more sloppy with every flick of your fingertip, rhythm becomes a thing of the past.

“No?” He chuckles, “Just like getting off to your boyfriend's voice while you’re fucking yourself?”

You’re already warm in the face; you don’t give Matty the pleasure of pretending to be embarrassed. You’re too close for that.

“Matty,” You breathe out, wanting to be done with the game.

“Yes, darling?”

If he wants to draw it out of you fine.

You wince as you draw sloppy figure-eights. “I want to finish.”

Which goes against what you usually want from Matty. Usually you’re shifting against him, urging him to slow down because you want to let it linger—almost dreading the idea of finishing and it being over.

(“I can’t,” You’d murmur, eyelids fluttering—clenching your stomach in an effort to hold off coming.

“You can.” His voice would turn stern and you’d feel another thump of heat radiate throughout your body. “Just let it happen, darling. Let me take you there.”)

Matty feigns mock surprise. “And here I was thinking we were having a heart-to-heart.”

“Don’t patronize,” You furrow your brows, halting your movements.

“I’m not some sex hotline, you know,” He tuts, his voice gravelly as he shifts around in the background. “To fulfill all your carnal urges.”

You blink. “I'll hang up.”

He doesn't miss a beat. “Well, hold on.”

You smile and you’ve got him.

"'m sorry," He says, sounding like he's closer to the phone. It makes shivers run down your body hearing him like this—tucked up in your neck while your fingers hover over your core. It's too much and not nearly enough at the same time. "Let me make it up to you."

Pretending to think about it, you click your tongue, "How?"

"Tell me how wet you are."

[fuckmyskywalker]

"Wide Open" — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, smut. Pegging. Anal. Dirty talk. | Word count: 1.5k

— List of films!

Trying new things with Anakin was always a stroll. 

And to be fair, seeing him splayed out on all fours over your bed was truly a sight for sore eyes.

Spreading his asscheeks, you see him shivering with anticipation. You know he is as eager as you are. Securing the straps over your hips, you give his ass a playful squeeze and smile at the groan that escapes from his lips.

“Are you ready?” You ask, wrapping your hand around the silicone cock and pressing the tip over his lubed stretched hole; preparation is key, so after fingering him for ten minutes you know he is ready— but asking was important as well.

Anakin nods, but you need verbal confirmation— in fact, you want to hear him say it.

“Words,” a harsh slap echoes through your room.

He hisses, “Yes! I’m ready.”

“Beg for it.” 

He looks at you over his shoulder with a frown. This is just a hint of humiliation, you both know that. He was the one who suggested this after all. Still, toying with the Anakin Skywalker is a privilege not just anyone can enjoy. 

“Please fuck me with your cock, I need it so bad,” He says, hiding his face in his arms. It’s cute, pathetic even. You think of urging him to beg more, but you are dying to split his ass open. You want him to feel how he feels every time he’s inside you— that’s why you picked a dildo that could match his size.

Slowly yet firmly, you prod his tight entrance with the tip of the toy, your smile widening when he gasps. It’s way different than your fingers. Inch by inch, you fill him up in a new, erotic manner. His hands fist your white sheets, groaning quietly. The stretch hurts, but it’s not a bad pain, he wouldn’t complain or ask you to stop. Anakin finds himself shivering for more— waiting for you to reach the base of the toy. The stretch is too much, and it quickly numbs his brain. You take your time, not wanting to hurt him, but also finding it very hard to keep your composure. The thought of seeing and listening to Anakin being fucked by you in the same way he fucks you almost every night is enough to give you a power rush. 

“There, it’s all in,” your voice is comforting as your hands massage his hips. You see him relax, letting his weight rest on the mattress, but not fully. Circling your hips, Anakin jolts, and you hear the first moan of the night. “Let me know when I can move, baby.”

He nods, slowly wiggling his hips to accommodate and get used to the feeling. He feels like the fake cock is brushing his throat. Is this how you feel every time he is inside you? Because if you do, he understands why all you can do is moan and cry when he pounds relentlessly into you. 

“Now, move now,” Anakin’s breathless tone makes you squirm. “Please—”

“Sure thing, big boy.”

Drawing back your hips, you make sure to pick a gentle pace, allowing him to feel every inch. Back and forth, your movements are deliberate, not even daring to blink. You don’t want to miss a single second of this. Anakin, on the other hand, has his eyes closed shut, biting his forearm to not scream. 

Leaving just the tip in, you reach for the bottle of water-based lube, popping the tap open and squirting some over the toy and his hole. The lube is cold, and it makes him release a high-pitched moan that makes you chuckle. Anakin is about to protest when you push your hips forward, reaching a deep part inside him that turns his words into a broken moan. Gradually speeding up, you can’t help but moan as well. The view is amazing. 

“You are taking me so well, darling,” using the same words he mutters almost every night against him, you speed up gradually— relishing in the way he squirms and shakes over your bed.

The silicone cock slides in and out, hitting right on his prostate and making him moan louder and louder. He never thought something so taboo would feel so good. 

“Look at you— you look so pretty with my cock inside you,” you mock him, chuckling when he moans in response. “My pretty boy.”

His body is glowing with a sheer layer of sweat, he can’t even keep his mouth closed. The thrusting becomes faster and stronger. The slap of your skin against the back of his thighs is different than the one he makes when he is fucking you. It sounds louder, more filthy— more erotic and it’s a wonderful melody that will never leave his mind. The small support he had with his arms completely dies, resting his cheek over the soft duvet. Keeping his ass up with your hands, you laugh breathlessly, feeling the same dominant wave he experiences. “Fuck—” Your hand lands over his asscheek, “You are so tight, aren’t you? Your pretty little hole is struggling to take my big cock.”

This is perverted. Anakin nods, moaning like a bitch in heat. His hips are now pushing backward, desperately attempting to meet your thrusts. Is this how you feel? He felt so full. His cock is bouncing slightly against his abdomen, stiffer than ever. He has the urge to jerk off, but he can’t even move a muscle— his brain is now a puddle, all he can think of is how good that damn fake cock feels inside of his puckered hole.

“Say you love my cock,” you command him, slapping his thigh. “Say it, slut.”

Anakin’s back arches, raising his head as much as he possibly can. “I l–love it! I love it so m–much!” He bites his lip, trying to stave off the orgasm that is quickly approaching. 

“You want more?” It is more of a rhetorical question. One of your hands leaves his hip to yank his sandy locks, causing Anakin to rest on his shaking forearms. You have him in a way he had you several times, and he looks so beautiful. 

“Yes, yes! Please— fuck me harder!” A string of drool down the corner of his lips as those pretty blue eyes roll to the back of his skull. You wish you could see his face, making a mental note afterward: fucking Anakin in front of a mirror is now a must. 

Letting his hair go, you bend towards him, your breasts brushing against the sweaty skin of his back. Sneaking underneath him, you wrap your hand around his neglected cock, laughing again when you find him hard as a rock— Anakin almost yells at your touch. 

“Do you wanna come?” Your hot breath tickles his ear, your tongue licks the shape of his ear slowly savoring the salty sweat of his body. 

“Yes— I wanna come, please let me come,” he’s broken, at your mercy. Is this what being cock-drunk feels like? “I can’t hold it any longer— please.”

A cruel thought flashes through your head; you could deny him the orgasm he’s so desperately craving. Why? Payback. How many times has he edged you for hours? How many times has he laughed at your tears after being denied release?

But no, that’s something for another day. 

You want to see him fucking fall apart.

“Come then, come like the little cock-hungry whore you are,” you spit at him, speeding up your hips and rutting into him so hard, Anakin has a moment of clarity; he won’t be able to walk properly tomorrow. “You love being fucked like a little bitch, don’t you?”

Anakin curses under his breath, before moaning unashamedly: some pleading, your name, and a word you can’t quite understand, which you assume is Huttese. Your hand jerks him off quickly and hard, squeezing the tip of his leaking cock quite often. At this point, his hips would falter and he would release his cum inside of you— but that’s not the case here. You make sure to push the dildo so deep you want him to believe you are bruising his insides, rearranging his guts, reaching his fucking throat.

With a strained scream, Anakin screams your name over and over, his cock twitching and spurting multiple ropes of hot, sticky cum, coating his abdomen and your bedsheets. You don’t stop your thrusts, simply slowing them down, before cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze. He continues moaning, panting, and thrashing over your bed. His face is flushed and you catch a glimpse of tears running down his cheeks from the intense climax he experienced. 

Carefully pulling out, you watch in awe how his outstretched hole clenches around nothing. Sitting on the bed, you take a moment to catch your breath— being on top sure is tiring. 

Anakin lets his body fall limp onto the bed, opening his eyes to raise his head and look at you. There’s a tired smile on his face, his curls are glued to his forehead, and for Maker’s sake— he looks so fucking beautiful.

“That was fun,” you giggle, wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“Take that shit off, it’s my turn to make you cry.”

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - chapter six

you know you never stood a chance series

six: hold me like a grudge

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

qz!Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: After a tense situation, you reunite with Ellie and Joel.

Warnings: dub-con due to power imbalance, free use, sex as payment, vaginal sex, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings, this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, degradation, canon-typical violence and danger, description of injury, spanking, pussy spanking, rough oral (m receiving)

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When the grass outside rustles underfoot, you flinch. You’ve been there for a while, long enough that the adrenaline started to seep out and leave you shaking in its wake.

The only reason you don’t shoot when you see a shadow is that Ellie takes the risk of speaking first.

“Hey, is that you?”

It’s so quiet, so careful. A sick part of you wants to stay silent, to hope they leave. But you’re forced to reckon with Joel’s evaluation of you: you’d never survive out here on your own. Probably wouldn’t even make it back to Boston, and then what? Get shot by FEDRA trying to get back in?

“Ellie?” you whisper back.

“Hey, Joel!” Ellie starts to yell, stopping when you shush her loudly from the garage.

You move, stepping closer to the frame where you can see her before moving into the light. She throws her arms around you, and you freeze, holding the gun pointed to the grass, too afraid to move.

“I know he’s an asshole, but don’t do that again,” she scolds, brow furrowed.

You’re thrown off guard but feel a rush of affection for the girl. “Sorry,” you say.

Joel comes out of the house from the back door and glowers at the two of you. “Inside,” he barks.

You follow behind Ellie as she rolls her eyes and prattles on about a large stick and what he should do with it.

He shuts the door behind you, clearly having scoped out the whole house before Ellie found you. He turns to her. “Upstairs.”

“What?”

“Upstairs, now,” he snarls.

She goes to protest but catches your eye.

“Please,” you say. You don’t want her to witness whatever he’s about to say to you.

When she’s gone, he rounds on you. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You stare at the floor, lips twisted as you fight the urge to lash out.

He lifts your chin with his hand. “Huh? You listening to me?” He huffs out a laugh. “Clearly not, or we wouldn’t be here right now. We got one fuckin’ rule, do you remember?”

When you still don’t answer, he shakes your chin a little, jostling your jaw and drawing your glare to him.

“Well?” he says.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Do as I’m fuckin’ told,” you mimic his drawl, poorly.

This wasn’t your first time out. After that night, when he fought with Tess, he dragged you with them on a supply run. It was fairly standard shit. Before you left the QZ, he had armed you—for appearances only, he reiterated, don’t touch those unless you’re gonna be ready to use them—and then told you the rule.

And you listened. Same shit, different place. He said drop, you’d drop. He said run, you’d run. Mostly, you just kept a nice resting bitch face in place so their contacts wouldn’t know you were an easy target.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he says, still holding your face in place. He tugs the revolver from your other hand, not that you resist, and shoves it in his waistband.

“Just leave me here.”

“Shut up.”

“You asked me a question.”

“Yeah, and I expected a real answer, not a stupid one.”

You move to kneel, but he grabs you.

“Not a bad idea, sweetheart, but you gotta watch that ankle.”

The thought gives him pause, and you watch apprehensively as he considers things.

“We’re staying here today. You’re gonna rest that fuckin’ ankle, and we’ll get back on the road in the morning.”

Ellie is thrilled to discover you’ll be taking the day off in a place with real beds. She finds some old sudoku books and pencils and hangs out in “her” room.

True to his word, Joel makes you stay in bed all day. Your foot is propped up on a stack of pillows. You sulk, but he brings you a couple of books to choose from, a bottle of water, and some cold soup, just like getting sick back in the old days.

Actually, it’s a little too much like the old days. It makes you want to run. Instead, you let the historical nonfiction novels lull you in and out of a hazy sleep.

He comes to get you after nightfall. Ellie’s sound asleep, and he brings you into the room he had staked claim to.

“You ready to say sorry?”

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you mumble.

“What were you thinking?” He asks again. He’s softened since this morning, to your great relief.

“I’m tired of being your burden.”

“Is this ‘cause I don’t get to fuck you?”

“No. I mean, sort of. It’s bad enough that I can’t pay you out here. But then to be a risk, to create more trouble than just being a mouth to feed…”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Lay down on your back. Head over here,” he gestures to the end of the mattress.

The abrupt change is exhausting, but you do as you’re told. Once you’re lying there, head draped off the edge of the bed, he reaches down and takes his cock out. He has to bend his knees a little, being just tall enough over average to not quite fit together, but he slides into your mouth.

It’s so easy this way for him to press right into your throat.

You try to pour out your excess emotions, the residual fear, the relief, everything by finding purpose through his dick, but he pulls out when you try to get a hold of him.

“Not this time, sweetheart. You want me to take what ya owe me? Fine. I’m gonna use your throat as a fuckin cocksleeve.”

The words shouldn’t please you, but they do. The catharsis of the relief, the elation at being useful, and his touch all send you trembling.

“You better not cum,” he warns. “Not until I’m fillin’ ya up.”

You want to argue that he’s already filling you up, but a) he’s absolutely not in the mood, and b) well, he’s filling you up, so you can’t really speak.

Instead, you do the only thing you really can do. You lay there and take it. He lets you curl your hands around his thighs, holding on so you don’t go scooting up the mattress during the more aggressive thrusts. It lets you stabilize your head and tilt to an angle that grants just a little more air.

It’s rough in a way he hasn’t been before, which is saying something, but it’s also transcendental. Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you’re in the fucking clouds. You’ve never felt so light, so peaceful.

He pulls out abruptly, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as he pants. It’s still so close to you, so you use his legs to push upward and try to get it back in your mouth.

He swats at your cunt. “Quit it.”

You moan, the pain turning quickly into a tingle that spreads across your lips and clit. It worked, though, and you back off, now dangling half off the bed, only supported by your palms against the thick trunks of his thighs.

He scoops you up, an arm under each of yours, and pushes you back up on the mattress. “Hands ‘n knees,” he says.

You’re still feeling a little weird, so when you’ve gotten into position, you drag a pillow over and nuzzle your face down into it, arms threaded under it to hold it against you.

“You’re all cockdumb now, huh?” His hand traces over your lower back. You moan, a quiet, rumbly thing, and press back toward him.

He smacks your ass. “Hold still, pretty girl. Let me open you up.”

You don’t do more than drool and moan as he works his fingers into you, stretching you to ease his passage. His other hand stays on your lower back like a brand, an anchor. When he pulls his fingers out, he licks them clean before guiding his cock to where you’re dripping and aching for him.

He pushes in slowly, and you arch your back under his broad palm. He pushes you back down against the bed, hand settling between your shoulder blades and another wrapped in your hair.

“Stupid girl,” he grumbles. “Foolish little brat.”

Tears well up. It’s so much. Everywhere he touches you is past ignition, already licked clean by his flame, ash smoldering in the wake.

“Quiet,” he hisses, and you realize the soft little sounds permeating your dream were your moans and gasps. You bite your lip hard, face screwing up at the pain, but it works.

He doesn’t like that, though. He lets go of your hair and sighs, pulling out just to roll you onto your back before plunging back in and picking up the pace to take you apart. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, groaning as your teeth sink into the dry and calloused flesh, tethering you to the earth.

The sound of his hips slapping against you should be a bigger concern, but that would mean stopping or slowing down, and he doesn’t see that as an option. Instead, he watches as your blank eyes blink up at him, wet and wide, and your lips wrapped around his thumb.

“Christ. You really just need your holes filled, and suddenly, ya know how to be good. Fuckin’ slut.”

“Your fault,” you choke out, the words slammed out of you by his aggressive pounding. “Wasn’t—b-before.”

You wish you hadn’t said anything when he laughs again, dark and pleased with himself.

“Yeah, you’re right. Only a fuckin’ whore for me now, huh?”

Finally, finally, he touches you when he’s getting close, tugging the thumb from your mouth to rub the wet pad of it against your clit.

“You ready, sweetheart? Gonna cum on my cock, make me feel good?”

You whimper, nodding. “Yes, Joel, please.”

He works you to it until you break down, clenching around him so tight. He has to make himself pull out, his sex-addled brain screaming for him to bury himself deep in you. Instead, he covers your stomach.

You’re shaking through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and he rubs at your clit until you give him another one. It’s easy, you fall right apart, and then you’re practically limp, breasts heaving with the effort to breathe steadily.

He swipes a finger through his mess and brings it up to your mouth. You suck it clean, and he does it again until he’s fed you most of it. You take it each time, sucking and licking his finger, and watching him with wide eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet like this. Why can’t you just listen this good all the time?” It’s said softly, fondly, but it cuts you deep. He stands up, stretches, and leaves the room without another word.

You start to cry, burying your face in the pillow and holding your breath so he doesn’t hear. You’ve gotten good at this, over the decades, of choking down your weakness and swallowing it whole, letting it rip you up inside rather than out, so by the time he’s come back in the room, you’ve quieted.

You rub away any lingering tears with sleepy fists and a yawn.

“You think you can sleep with your ankle propped up?” he says when he crosses the room.

You nod, one fist still over your left eye, which won’t stop stinging, and sling your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.

He catches your shoulder. “You’re stayin’ right here. Lay down, and I’ll set it up.”

Slowly, you settle back onto the bed. He must really not want you to walk on it if he’s going to trade rooms. Maybe the injury was worse than you thought.

The rest of his cum has dried, leaving a tacky residue on your stomach. He doesn’t wipe it clean, though; he never does anymore. Not worth wasting the water over, you think.

That’s what he tells himself, too.

The gentle hands you remember from so long ago have returned, delicately arranging pillows under your leg. You twist your top half to thank him, only to find him pulling back the blanket to slide into bed beside you.

It’s fully dark, now, when he presses a kiss into your hair and settles on his back beside you. Even through both of your shirts, you can feel the warmth of him where your back presses to him. He doesn’t hold you, but the closeness is enough to let you drift off to sleep.

The sun breaks through the bedroom windows before the birdsong wakes you. Joel is already awake when you roll over. This time, he does sneak his arm beneath you, pulling you to his chest.

You can’t breathe, too afraid the movement will fully wake him up. He’s never, not once, given you this much of him. You idly wish he hadn’t, because how were you supposed to live without it now?

“This is a nice quilt,” he says, shattering the silence before you work yourself into a panic. “Shame we gotta leave it here.”

“You get the stuff, and I’ll make you one when we get back.” Your voice is muffled in his shirt, too tense to pull away and properly look at him.

“Didn’t know you could sew.”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Miller. Sucking cock, basic sewing, annoying the hell outta you…” Aw, fuck. End of list. Oh well.

He chuckles, and you hate the way you can never tell if he’s laughing at your joke or laughing at you.

You fall back into quiet again, and when you think he might have dozed back off, you relax a little, letting your head find a home in the hollow where his arm meets his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to his t-shirt.

“I know, sweetheart. Look, when we get home, if you want to leave, I won’t stop ya. But not out here. Not like this.”

“M’not leaving. I got a quilt to make, remember?”

He leans down and kisses the top of your head, resting that way for a moment with you drawn close.

Of course, the peace doesn’t last. Ellie bursts through the door, boundless energy as always, sending your already-racing heart into overdrive.

“—room is empty; what did you say to her? Couldn’t you just have been nice?”

Joel waits, staring at her blankly. You, however, have buried your face in his side. You’re both fully dressed, and there’s no evidence of anything, but you know she’s not stupid.

“Oh, ew, god, come on! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She’s backing out, pulling the door behind her, but her disgust carries down the hall.

Joel tilts your chin up with a curled finger. “At least we know she didn’t hear any of the other times I fucked ya.”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you can’t look him in the eye.

“It’s not like she walked in on us,” he teases.

“She’s never going to talk to us again,” you groan.

“She’ll get over it. If not, you can give her the talk.”

“Oh no. No, you can handle that.”

“Let’s let the Fireflies handle that,” he decides, scrubbing at his beard with one hand. He gets up, groaning. “Should make it to Bill’s today, even if we go slow.”

“Joel—”

“I know you’re not about to argue with me, right?”

Your mouth twists into a scowl, but you soften when you look up at him. The sun through the window is bathing him in yellow, and his brown eyes trip up your heart like they always do.

“No,” you say with a sigh. “I’ll follow you.”

He stops you before you leave the room, two fingers under your chin. “When we get to Bill’s, I’ll help you add another thing to that skillset of yours.”

“What?”

He hands you back the revolver you had stolen from the garage skeleton. “I’ll teach ya how to shoot.”

next chapter

*title from "Hold Me Like a Grudge" by Fall Out Boy

[soaln]

Helloooo!! Don't know if u write angst or nott... 😥😥

If yes, could I request Luffy with a male reader that almost dies while fighting with an enemy 'cuz he was pushing himself too much? Like, he wants to be as strong as his friends and it backfires on him ーー;

If not, thanks anyway!!

🍖┆ ╰┈➤ 𝜗𝜚 ┈ Don’t blame me love make me crazy ｡—

🍖┆ ╰┈➤  ┈ warnings: slight!gore, angst 2 fluff, shinobu like!m!reader. ｡—

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐎,,

• The Straw hats were fight, with the marine. It wasn’t the first time you were fighting them.

• You didn’t thought much of it, it seemed like the usual actually.

• to be honest, you weren’t the weakest or the strongest, but you really smart with creating poison, anti poison or you founded someone’s weaknesses in few minutes.

• that’s mostly why you were I’m crew, for your intelligence/smartness. You were also fast, but your stamina was low.

•you were fight a marine, if you had to admit, he was stronger than you. His sword was sharp, and could slash you body with one hit. You had to be careful.

Sorry if bad fighting style 😣 it’s the first time

[Name]’s stamina was getting lower each second. His body was exhausted by all the deep, small cuts. The marine had a grin on his face, like he knew what he say next. "[LastName] right, I still remember that face you’ve made when I killed your sister" he stated, making [Name]’s blood boiling even more. The [brunette..etc] didn’t want to show any weaknesses. He hold his weapon tighter as he ran faster than before. The marine’s eyes widened at the sudden disappearance. He looked everywhere to find the pirate, until he felt a sharp weapon in his stomach and coughed feeling a liquid entering his body. Suddenly the [haircolor] haired male was thrown away, he groaned his pain. He didn’t where was his friends, but he’s sure they’re near, he didn’t want to bother them. he stood and rushed at the enemy, drawing his weapon. he struck the enemy with his weapon blows but he quickly dodged It. His anger keep growing up, but the fatigue was wining over his body. The weapons were clashing, sweat were dropping to the ground, blood dropping everywhere. The only thing they could scent was their own blood. Suddenly, the man in front of him disappeared and made an attack from behind, leaving [Name] surprised. He gave several blows finally piercing his body, which almost reached his heart and slashed his back. The blood was flowing everywhere, he was stunned. He was too slow to anticipate the attack. He couldn’t stand on his two feet and collapsed on the ground.

• your friends was waiting for you, it’s been more then forty minutes now, but Luffy trusted you, he knew you were strong but he was also worried

• Nami didn’t want to wait, so she goes to find you and say to the crew they should wait here until she came back.

• after few minutes they heard a scream.

Nami was trying to find him, there was some debris around her until. The ginger decided to climb on a rock to see where he was. She saw a someone’s body on the floor, and realize it was him "[NAME] !" She screamed his name, her agony could be felt by her voice. She ran to his lukewarm body. Hearing a scream, the straw hat ran towards her, thinking about the worse. When they arrived their eyes widened in fear. Luffy’s eyes darkened, he didn’t say anything. Will he leave like his brother did ? He didn’t want it to happen. He wanted to stay with you.

• they go back in the ship, Luffy was the one carrying you. They didn’t waste time and goes to Chopper’s nursery idk 🤷

• chopper said to everyone to leave, expect Luffy who stayed near the bed, without saying anything.

• Good thank they weren’t to late cause you almost died.

• It’s been few weeks since you were in coma, you didn’t show any sign of living or waking up. The crew often visited the room. (Mostly Luffy [he puts his hat on your head sometimes])

• You finally show sign of waking after eleven long weeks.

[Name] opened his eyes slowing, and gets blinded by the light. He groaned and sat in the bed, he felt a sharp pain his back. He looked around and saw an reindeer, it was Chopper, his smile widened, he cheered how happy he was. Luffy entered the room, and his eyes also widened. He walked towards him, wrapping his hands around his torso.

• Nami def scolded you to be more careful and don’t push yourself too much. Sanji totally agree with what she’s said.

• Robin just told you to not let the anger eating you, or gaining over you body.

• Luffy became more protective of you, he wants you by his side. He doesn’t want to see hurt, nor dead. He knows you can defend yourself but, he’ll protect you anyway

A/N : sorry if it’s not what you asked… I just thought about Shinobu and got a random idea😭

[masivechaos]

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

sirius black x fem! reader

Request: yes / no

Synopsis: Sirius likes to tease you by speaking french but maybe he’s more easily flustered than you are.

Warning/content: kissing and that's it i think, no proofreading and my bad English

a.n.: 1.1k words - it is very funny but cringe to write as a french person and it's not my best fic but here you go.

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

There were pros and cons to dating Sirius Black. A lot of pros actually, he was distracting, pointed stars at you at night, showered you with compliments every day and so on and so forth. And, at first, you thought that the fact that he knew how to speak french was a good thing.

It’s true, it sounded good and it made you fall in love with him again every time he spoke. But right now, you just wanted him to stop. Because one of the cons to dating Sirius Black was that he loved to tease you. He loved to see you look down, avoid any visual contact with him with wide eyes.

And one way to get you was to speak french to you over and over again with words you couldn’t understand. By the tone of his voice you knew they were compliments but it still made you feel weird.

“Stop,” you said but your laugh betrayed you.

“Why would I stop?” Sirius was maybe a dog in his animagus form but as a human he also knew how to master the puppy face “Tu es si belle.” He was hovering over you, his hand stroking your cheek.

You felt heat rushing to your face. “W-what does it mean?” you stuttered. Sirius let out a chuckle, finding you more than adorable like this.

He let his forehead rest against yours “You don’t need to know. Just trust me, okay?” you nodded, unsure if you could believe him or not. Sirius leaned in and pulled you into a small kiss “Do you like it when I speak french?” you nodded again, too shy to admit it out loud. “That’s great because I like it too.”

Your smile widened when he buried his head in the crook of his neck. For a few minutes, both of you didn’t talk before Sirius broke the silence again “You are so pretty”

“What?” you said confused.

“That’s what Tu es si belle means,” he said, changing his previous teasing smirk for a genuine smile that matched his now pink cheeks.

“O-oh” why so little was enough to make you flustered?

Sirius laughed “Why are you acting like I never said it before?” he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “If you need to hear it again, tu es belle. Je pense que tu es la personne la plus magnifique du monde” 

You gave up on trying to understand what he meant and just enjoyed how the language tasted on his tongue, letting his words calm your ears. “Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, feeling sleep starting to get you.

“You don’t know what I said,” he laughed. Sirius moved both of you so you were the one on top, wrapping his arms around your waist as you settled on his chest, your head rising and falling with his breathing.

You hummed, “I know. But I bet it’s nice so thank you.” you smiled, drawing your hand to his hair, slowly brushing your fingers through it. Sirius let out a content sigh, he had to admit that talking to you in french was a way to spare his pride. Everybody knew he wasn’t the best to express his feelings so having a one-sided conversation weirdly made him feel safe. He could say everything he wanted, getting everything off his chest, making his heart lighter without having to face the consequences. It was selfish he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.

“Je t’aime tellement,” he said barely more audible than a whisper.

Suddenly you lifted your head, surprising Sirius in the process “You love me?” Sirius didn’t tell you the three words yet, and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t together for a long time and he grew up not knowing what love and affection were. Accepting he was loved was already hard enough so accepting that he was feeling this way was more than difficult.

Blood won Sirius’ cheeks, turning them red “H-how do you know?”

“I know je t’aime means I love you. It’s a pretty common thing to know.” You watched his expression fall, almost as if he was disappointed. “Hey,” you held his face between your hands “I love you too okay? Je t’aime” you said in a hideous french accent that resulted in making him laugh.

“Don’t make fun of me!” you said with a laugh, happy to see him happy again “I was trying to be romantic!”

“You can be romantic in English, chérie”

“Pff while you, you are flexing your french.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

He laughed at your fake pout “C’mon, don’t sulk” he pressed his lips to your cheek “I just think it sounds pretty. Tu es l’amour de ma vie, I have to sound pretty to you”

“First, what does it mean? And second, even if you sounded like a dying horse I would love you so much.” You grinned when Sirius flushed a bit.

He hid his red cheeks, moving his face to the side against the blanket, his hand covering the other side of his face.

“Why are you hiding?” you whispered, the teasing tone of the conversation changing for a calmer one, ready to listen to each other’s feelings. “Sirius?” you turned his head to you.

“I-I don’t want to tell you what it means,” he stutters.

You offered him a reassuring smile “Okay, take your time, love”

He was so grateful to have you and he knew you deserved to know but he didn’t seem to be brave enough. He let himself a few minutes, gathering all his courage to tell you. He felt like it was too early in the relationship to tell you this but fuck it. He loves you so much.

“Um,” he swallowed hard, “I said… I said you’re the love of my life” Sirius wished he could dig a grave right now and just bury himself alive. Your silence was so scary to him.

“Y-you said I’m the love of your life?” you were beaming, not quite possibly believing what he just told you.

“I- er- yeah”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as much as possible “You’re the love of my life too, Sirius”

And there, right on a picnic blanket next to the Black Lake, Sirius melt. His feelings for you burned him, making him weak in a way he couldn’t deny he loved. But he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t going to change in one day, too many confessions were revealed in an hour. He had to protect himself, and humour was his best weapon.

“But would you still love me if I were a worm?” he said, pulling on his best puppy face.

“Sirius!”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

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[mysticficti0n]

All my attention Part 6

warnings- swearing, drinking, flirting, dirty talk to the max, Degrading but not in a mean way?

words- 3.3k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well

(also would you guys want me to do smut for this? I don't have to if you don't want it but... I could write some good pieces for the next few chapters?????)

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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

Everyone arrived by 8:50 and were all seated around a extremely large table, each family sat drinking and laughing over different things, on our side of the table (meaning me, Tom, Gustav, Gustav's grandpa, Georg and Bill) we all chatted about random ideas we had for the next shows

"good evening, could we get you all started on food?" a man around my mothers age smiled pulling a note pad out and a pen

"yes can we have-" Stefan schafer, Gustav's dad began pointing to things on the menu and pointing to the people who wanted it "-perfect thank you" the man nodded collecting all the menus in and the chatter began again, me and Tom sat across from our grandmas who were on about something they'd watched on tv

"I'm bored" Tom whispered in my ear causing me to roll my eyes

"we've been here 20 minuets" he sighed falling back into his chair and his grandma seemed to notice turning to him

"Tom- whats wrong darling?" the boy sat properly again and took a swig of his drink

"nothing just hungry" he spoke watching the old women tilt her head "...I'm bored" Catrina nodded looking to me

"you have Y/n/n for company, she's a lot of fun aren't you?" I nodded my head looking to the boy who just laughed "oh actually me and Josie were just saying- we watched your interview! with that hunky man Karter, you two looked delightful, well all of you did" she grinned rubbing my hand over the table

"yeah.." Tom trailed getting comfy again, reaching arm the back of my seat and playing with the ends of my hair "we wont be going back to him in a rush"

"why not?" my gran asked "he's a handsome man"

"nothing to worry about Nanna" I spoke smiling to her, she can become a very angry women if she found out someone did anything bad to us, she'd personally hunt them down if she could.

Time passed slowly but the smell of food only made us hungrier, Toms hand had moved from my hair to my shoulder drawing a circle over and over

"and here we are-" the same waiter came over with two others holding trays of food, there was 21 of us.. we all sat straight and the small laughter of my sister caused us all to laugh, I had the pesto tortellini with Parmesan, and many also copied me

"thank you" we all said starting our meal, I dug my fork in and bought the steamy pasta to my mouth "oh wow thats amazing" I hummed putting more onto the fork, Tom looked over then to the bowl and back to me "you chose to have the chicken Schnitzel, I said about this"

"oh please!" he moaned "one bite- you can have some chips" he quickly stabbed his fork into the fries and brought them to me "come on"

"fine" I gave into his ways and took the chips and past him my fork with the pasta on the end, he hummed a quick thank you and smiled tasting the food "good right?" Tom nodded swallowing the pasta, I turned back to eating and listening to the different conversations around the table

"you know I was thinking about something" Bill began looking down to us on the table "a tv show, like filming while in rehearsals and we could go round during tours and trying things... Felix said about it" The idea of being filmed 24/7 didn't sound fantastic, I enjoy my privacy but.. if that means we get to do fun stuff..

"who'd wanna watch us though, outside of music were just boring" Gustav added "you could do a documentary about every girl Toms fucked" Gustav's mom slammed his hand making us all laugh

"at least they'd say they came unlike the girls you've done" Tom hit back making the drummer huff "but I like the idea-" Georg nodded as well but I still sat undecided

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(okay I cba to write about the restaurant but lets say, lovely meal hugs kisses etc)

"Oh why don't we go to that bar" Simone pointed out, the bars name was naughty lad and music was booming through the walls, the boys seemed intrigued looking through the steamed windows

"I think we'll head back with the grandparents, Stella is nearly asleep so could you bring Y/n back?" my mom asked passing my sister to my dad

"sure, we'll keep her safe don't worry" David, Georg's dad spoke wrapping an arm around me "you get home and relax" with a quick hug my parents got into the car and drove away leaving me with the boys and their parents which wasn't unusual, having a younger sister makes life harder to always enjoy. Together we all walked into the bar and 'hot in here' by Nelly was blasting through the speakers

"drinks?" Bill asked pulling his wallet out "Guessing a vodka coke for you?" I laughed seeing Bill roll his eyes "you need to try more- I'm getting you something else"

"Get me whatever she has!" Tom shouted to his brother who nodded walking to the rest of the group who found themselves sat at a booth "wanna smoke quickly?" I agreed feeling his hand wrap around my wrist and pull me back out the door, he went into his pocket pulling his cigarets out and handing me one with his lighter

"thank you" I chirped lighting the end and then his "I can't get over you tonight" I spoke catching myself at the end

"its alright babe, you can take it off me later" his voice turned suggestive and a smirk plastered his face "aww turning red aren't you?" his free hand cupped my jaw and I felt my knees go weak at his touch- what was he doing

"shut up-" I groaned pushing him away jokingly "I was trying to be nice and say you look good" Toms face softened and nodded along to my words

"I know, but I just love making you all red for me" he cooed putting a hand on my waist "it makes you even more beautiful" Tom leaned in, my heart started pounding in my chest, is this what he meant by being 'worse' I knew I wanted to kiss him again as he closed the distance between us, our lips just inches apart, he hesitated. With a sly grin, he pulled back, leaving the me confused "don't want to be caught do we?" I narrowed my eyes seeing him chuckle "aw did you want me to kiss you Y/n?"

"its okay, I'll find someone in there who will" his face dropped and his grip on my only tightened "maybe I'll bring them home with us?"

"mhm... I don't think so-" The boy was cut by the long haired bassist peaking his head around the door "what?"

"drinks are here" he pulled the door open wider and the two let me in first, I pushed past people dancing along to the music and trying not to get any type of liquid on my dress, finally the booth came into view and Bill sat smiling reaching for my hand I took it and he pulled me next to him

"okay drink this first then I'll tell you what it is" he shouted over the music, I turned to the drink and saw it was a radioactive green with a yellow hue, I picked up the champagne coup and brought it to my lips taking a sip

"Ugh What the fuck is that!" I called nearly heaving at the taste of something like black liquorish

"Death In The Afternoon! I thought you'd like it!" a smile creeped onto his face as he took the glass and finished it "let me get you another one!" The boy pleaded

"come on Y/n don't be boring!" Gustav laughed swigging his arm around me

"fine but I don't want that shit ever again" soon I watched the tallest twin wonder to the bar and point to something on the menu clapping his hands as the bar man turned away "oh- whats that?" I asked seeing the black haired boy smirking holding a small glass fully yellow but with some red falling into the glass, speaking of the glass it had a slice of lemon and mint dotted on top

"this is a Mai Tai" Bill said handing me the drink and watched me as I sipped at the liquid, I hummed at the taste of Malibu and orange running down my throat

"wow this is good" I drank more seeing the singer do a small dance knowing he'd defeated my 'vodka coke' love

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I sat in the booth wedged between Simone and Bill who were laughing about something stupid and I was on my 5th mai tai giggling when something funny was mentioned, I wasn't drunk but I was tipsy, I saw Simone leave the conversation and look to the dance floor "OH MY GOD!" She got up running to the floor pulling me along with her

"SIMO-" I began but then I herd it 'don't stop the music' by Rihanna start to play, ever since the song came out earlier in the year me and her loved it, we danced around with large smiles painted across our faces "I wanna take you away Let's escape into the music DJ, let it play I just can't refuse it" Simone grabbed my hand spinning me around while still belting out the lyrics "Please don't stop the music!" we finished laughing loudly and sweat running down our foreheads I looked to the booth to see them all clapping at our stupidness we took a bow and Simone went to sit down next to her boyfriend who she wrapped her arms around and kissed making her sons cringe and I decided id go sit next to Tom- we'd barley spoke since we had that smoke out side, he was sat holding a glass of clear liquid and rolling his eyes over at his brother

"hey!" I called sliding myself next to him in the booth

"hi- you okay?" I nodded my head grabbing my drink of the table and In a quick swig finishing It off "you might wanna slow down on them" the boy laughed pulling my empty glass from me but I couldn't understand a word as the music got louder around me

"what? I didn't hear you!" he rolled his eyes but quickly moved closer, the arm around my shoulder moved to hold my bare thigh as he leaned into my ear

"I said, you might wanna slow down on the mai tai" his fingers tapped on my skin causing a odd sensation I'd never felt before shiver up my body, they danced on my leg edging to go just slightly under my skirt but he stopped everytime

"oh-oh yeah... well wanna go to the bar and help me chose something different?" Tom nodded and the two of us stood back up, he grabbed my hand, closing his fingers tightly around mine and pulled me through the crowd, yanking me when I stopped, as we got to the bar he pulled me a bar stool out making me sit in front of him while he stood close behind, his stomach on my back and his one hand on my waist

"you like the fruitier cocktails right?" I nodded my head looking at the menu and something caught my eye- The Blue Hawaii, rum, vodka Blue curacao, pineapple juice and Lemon juice

"I think I want the blue Hawaii!" I looked back to the dreaded boy who nodded his head pulling his wallet out "no Tom, let me pay!" I hurried into my purse to grab the €10 I needed

"Y/n fuck off, I'm buying me and drink and you one- put the money away" he huffed grabbing my money and shoving it back into the bag "let me treat you babe" my heart ached at the words and so I let him do what he wanted and I just leaned back on him and waited to be served. The bartender finally turned to us and grabbed a bottle of something "erm can we have a blue Hawaii and a vodka cranberry, thanks" Tom handed the money over me, his chest pressing on me and his other hand back on my thighs for support

"be 5 mins" the man behind the counter said before walking off to the other side of the bar

"I need a piss, stay here don't move alright?" Tom commanded, quickly patting my head like I was some kind of dog and running to the bathroom, I sat kicking my legs watching others conversations and giggling to who ever they're with

"hey.. anyone sitting here?" I turned to a voice I'd never herd before and saw a man stood there holding a empty glass

"no! you can sit don't worry" a small laugh left him and he perched onto the chair and I finally got to see his face, He's very good looking, I couldn't help but admire his features. something about him that made him stand out from the rest, his black hair and brown eyes. His hair is perfectly styled in little waves along his head, and it shines in the light. I found myself staring to his smile. It's warm and inviting, i can't help but smile back. It's infectious.

"thanks, I'm Brandon- thought I'd introduce myself so I'm not creepy" I laugh at him as I turn to speak to him better

"oh I'm Y/n, my seat will be free soon once me and my mate have our drinks" I spoke still just admiring him, it might've been the alcohol but he was gorgeous

"shame, I'm enjoying this- little old me speaking to a beautiful girl.. I say old- I'm not I'm 19, you?"" I blushed to his words

"oh 17 but I get mixed up with being either 23 or 13 most days" he chuckled at my comment

"where you from anyways?"

"Leipzig, you?" he nodded his head

"Dresden" we kept speaking till mine and Tom's drinks arrived and I quickly grabbed them "so who are you here with?"

"just my friends and some family- celebrating coming home- actually my friend should be here soon" I looked back and I saw Tom staring at me with a scowl across his face "oh erm, he's over there so I might see you later?" I smiled grabbing the drinks off the table

"yeah sure, maybe I can get your number and we could go out for drinks?" he sounded so sweet and eyes bright with hope, but I knew I had to be careful giving my number out for security reasons and also I think Tom would kill me

"maybe yeah!" I laughed it off as I walked over to he boy who looked through me to Brandon, crossing his arms "how long were you stood watching me?" I asked passing him his drink

"long enough" his seriousness scared me, what was his issue "he really liked you didn't he? eyes wondered you like a fucking map" he spat gulping his drink basically in one

"Tom I think you're being a bit dramatic, he didn't even flirt with me" it was a partial lie as he did ask for my number...

"still-" I saw the guitarist sulk a little sipping the last of his drink and staring into the distance and that when I realised it

"are... are you jealous?" his eyes shot up to me but he didn't fight my words, and I wanted to keep pushing him "come on, you can tell me" I fluttered my eyelashes at the boy who just looked away, without thinking my hand reached for his jaw and brought his gaze back to me, I was shocked with myself but I couldn't lose my control now "look at me when I'm talking to you" I spoke closer to him in a low whisper, his eyes seemed deeper and narrower, I was doing it "you don't like it when I speak to other guys hm? don't like them looking at me, thinking of me...touching me" I let the last words roll of my tongue and I could see behind his stare he was getting angrier "talk to me pretty boy"

My hand was swatted from his face as Tom pulled me by my wrist back into the cubicles, each small individual rooms with a crappy dim light glaring into the room, hurriedly we went to the first unlocked block and slammed the door closed and he locked it with a click, my back pressed against the cold tile wall and Tom stood over me I close my eyes as his lips press against mine. His hands moved around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he wrapped his arms around me. His lips soft and perfect, his breath warm on my skin. I can feel my heart racing as we move together, our bodies intertwined. His hands move higher, caressing my back as we kiss. I can feel my skin tingling with anticipation as I move my hands up his chest, exploring his body. I can feel the electricity between us, the passion rising.

"You- you are a little cunt sometimes" I feel him smile into my cheek pressing kisses into my skin "but.. fuck we both know you'd never want them...as much as you want me" I hold my breath at the feeling of him humming into my ear, my arms tangle around his neck pulling him back to my lips "god you are so desperate for me" I pull back slightly opening my eyes and seeing a smirk plastering his face

"who's the one that dragged me into here?" he tilted his head in agreement but I could wait any longer, our lips smashed back together and our bodies collided once again, hungrily I moved down to his jaw peppering the line with kisses and edged down to his neck, my lips danced around until I reached just below his ear and his grip on me tightened and a noise threatened to escape his throat, I dove back into the spot sucking and pecking at it, hearing him struggle and try pry me off

"fuck Y/n- please" he begged "shit... I-I" his stuttering made my heart swell and I pulled away to see small beads of sweat forming, I looked to his eyes and they were full of glazed tears of lust

"aw- I'm sorry, didn't you like it?" I played with a strand of his hair as he shook his head no

"I fucking loved it" his lips landed back on me as he groaned into the kiss, I smiled feeling his hands go under my thighs and lift me onto his hips, my dress pushing up revealing the red panties I put on earlier "shit you are so hot" the boy whined kissing my chest, nibbling lightly at the skin

"ah- Tom" His eyes caught mine again and smile only spread further, my hands grabbed his shoulders pushing myself up and he only toyed with me more, licking my skin that was sore from being between his teeth and small noises seeped from my mouth only pushing him further "shit... Fuck Tommy- I..." his nickname came out so naturally but in the sluttiest moan I'd ever done

" God Y/n, I don't what the first place we fuck to be in a bathroom baby, so keep that pretty little mouth quiet because you're making it so hard to keep that from happening" my heart nearly exploded out my chest, I went like putty, foreheads knocking together at his words, Tom caught my lips In one last sweet kiss and put me back onto the floor "so beautiful-" Tom whispered into my ear one last time before pulling away still holding my waist

"only for you" I smiled kissing him once more again before we stood there holding each other panting and puffy lipped

[bau-drabbles]

love me harder

a/n: this one got the most votes, so here you go. smutty smut with aaron bae who gets jealous. yes i know it's ooc, yes i know its rushed. but i tried 🥲

i'm really rusty in smut, pls be gentle :") its also kinda long oopsie 🤍

18+, mdni!! i don't even know how to begin to describe this. my bad ☠

jealous hotchner. not something you see everyday, very rare actually. but it was something you loved to watch, something inside you stirred everytime it came out. and as bad as it was, it was something enjoyed. much like right now.

the party was getting boring, truthfully hotch had no interest in even going. he only went because you insisted on supporting jj and will and celebrate in their success. and while he made chat with his team, his eyes were in constant search of you. every minute without you was a minute too long

as if you had read his mind, you finally made your appearance and he smiled but it soon began to drop when he noticed another man beside you. very closely beside you, too close for hotch's liking. with his drink discarded to the side he strode over to you, his hand going to the small of your back while he towers over this man.

"aaron" you smile at your boyfriend giving him a peck on the cheek.

"y/n.... who is this" hotch speaks as though the sight beings him great disgust and it does. he's trying not to be so harsh but how dare this creature touch you so intimately

"oh this is elijah, an ex" and there it was, the straw that broke his back.

"your ex?" hotch again looks at you, his eyes slightly more wider than the last time. he observes the man, he looked younger. fitter. definitely the type to attract a lot of women and he had managed to attract you before. that part pained him more than he cared to admit. you nod in response, answering the question your ex had just said. you laughed and it angered hotch, that this man could give you the same smiles he could

"i think i'm going to call it a night" he says to you, giving a tired smile

"already?" elijah chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. but hotch decided to ignore him, trying but failing to be the bigger person. if he didn't leave within the next five minutes, he couldn't promise your ex wouldn't have a few missing teeth and a black eye to match.

"okay, let's go" you say gently, hand in hand with your beau leaving your ex with his mouth agape. but as you reach the car you notice hotch a lot more tense than he usually was

"what was that about?" you ask curiously, clicking your seat belt in place. hotch looks tense as he glances on the road, his hands squeezed tightly against the wheel. you see his adam apple bob in his throat, unsure if he wanted to spill the next words. and while he doesn't lie to you, he doesn't necessarily tell you the entire truth

"i just.... didn't like the way he was looking at you" he mutters under his breath, hoping you don't pursue it any longer. you eye him, a sneaky feeling of the possible reasons behind his actions. you hide your smile glancing out of the window.

well well.... looks like you could have some fun with this after all

•••

exiting the shower, you wrap up in a towel as you walked into your room. a necklace adorned your chest, something your ex had given you at the party. a lame gift and you would've usually taken it off and let it drown within the depths of your jewellery collection but for tonight you kept it on.

just for research purposes of course.

hotch was there, quickly reviewing some notes he wanted to get out of the way so that you had his full undivided attention for the weekend he glanced up, giving a smile as you grabbed journey garments from the draws. but he stopped, noticing something shiny there you didn't have before

"what is that?" he tried to ask cooly but you sense the jealousy hidden deep within his words

"oh, just a necklace" you stand by the mirror, applying some lotion on your arms. very carefully through your lashes, you look at his features. they contort to an expression, one that confirmed exactly your thoughts.

so he was jealous then

"who gave you that?" his voice is low, eyes narrowed at the shining necklace around your throat. the jealousy had reared its ugly green head once more but truthfully, you kind of relished in it. it was a different side of hotch and you wanted to experience all of it.

"oh.... elijah did" you purposely emphasise the name, glancing down at the jewel and then look up.

you watched his eyes dilate, his jaw clench and within seconds he had pounced on you. your back hitting the bed, his hands on your face as he brings you in for a ravenous kiss. normally the times he had kissed you, they were sweet and tender. but this one felt as though he couldn't get enough of you. as if he was a starved man and your lips were his fix.

he pulls back, trying to control himself but your eyes swirl with desire. its enough for him to break, his hands holding your thighs to his growing erection. his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission to which you gives eagerly. your tongues caught in a slow erotic dance, depraved and desperate

"you don't need this" in your pleasure, you don't realise hotch has snaked his hand around your neck. he snaps your necklace with a swift motion of his fingers and it falls just underneath you. he chuckles darkly, watching it break under the slightest pressure

cheap bastard...

"aaron" you gasp, looking at him but he has that devilish smirk on. that exact one that told you, you were in for a long ride. he's so consumed by the pleasure, his hands scouring every part of your body. leaving nothing untouched. a quick hand up your thigh showed that you bare, just the way he loved it.

"does elijah get to have you like this?" hotch utters the name as though it brings him great disgust, flicking your towel off. and it falls, leaving you completely naked to his eyes. he drinks in the sight, his hungry eyes lapping every inch of you

"no" you whisper back, pulling him closer. your fingers make quick work of the loose shirt adorning his body and he groans, already wanting to give into you. with his lips back on to your skin, his trousers fall somewhere in the darkness of the room followed by his boxers. he takes great care, very gently placing you on top of him. you squeal as he enters you, adjusting to the intrusion. god you were so excited, you had been waiting for this the whole day. he holds your body with the utmost care, inch by inch you feel him inside.

and then he stops, to your complete surprise. this was the game you wanted to play, after all. and who better to challenge then the master at it?

so his pace stopped altogether, your mouth falling in a gasp. you were left filled to the brim, stretched at your limit, completely at the brink of his mercy.

"a-aaron" you whimper, trying to shift your weight to alleviate some of the pressure, trying to get some slight friction but he holds you down. the entire night you had been a tease, now it was his turn. he nipped at your throat and you knew what it had meant. you weren't going anywhere, at least not without his permission.

his large hands were down on your back holding you in place. it all felt like too much and yet not enough. he angled his hips, eliciting a shuddering breath from you. you could feel him shift so that the tip of him was pressed as deep as it could possibly reach. his hand snaked down your body, his thumb rubbing slow tortuous circles on your clit. it makes your body shake in delight and in response your fingers dig into his shoulders, making him slightly chuckle at your predicament

he knew what this was doing to you, you growing more frustrated at the lack of movement. but this time, perhaps it would teach you not to misbehave. so he revelled in the notion of you mindless and desperate all because of him.

"so tell me, does he fuck you like this sweetheart?" his teeth graze your earlobe, chuckling at your lack of words. he moves his hips slightly, enjoying at how you whimpered with every motion of his body. it's hard to think, hard to say anything. every single time you underestimated hotch, he always seemed to surprise you more than you could've ever imagined. a perk of having profiler bf for sure.

"answer me" he commands, pulling away and you shake your head quickly, desperation practically dripping from every word.

"nonono he doesn't baby. he doesn't" you moan when he hits another sweet spot deep within you, every second was painful euphoria. his skin glistened with fine sheet of perspiration, his hair all floppy, displayed all about his forehead. he had never looked as good as he did right now. the desire to absolutely finish you off was excruciating but he never was able to see like this. the way you looked at this moment, flushed, lips parted and moist from your tongue, you were so beautiful. and you were all his. not elijah's, not anyone's. all his to have, to hold, to love.

his honeyed eyes swirled with emotion you were well acquainted with, lips curled into a wicked grin. seeing you teeter on the edge of pain and pleasure, knowing no other human could do this to you. that only he could have you on the verge of a climax with no movement. he could've been high off of this sight alone.

"tell me, could he make you feel like this?" his raspy voice cuts deep, striking at the building pressure growing by the second in your pelvis. you don't even get to respond when you feel him pulse inside of you, feeling him smile against your neck when he knows you've felt it. your head lulls back, your voice lost in the sudden sharp sensation of being over stretched. you tremble in his lap, unable to think or move.

"n-no he couldn't, please please" you beg through clenched teeth, your heart richoeting against your chest. your fingers dip into the dense muscles of his arm, rolling your hips hoping to urge him on, hoping he could see how much you needed him

"please" you murmured your plea, breathy and frantic. leaning forwards, your forehead rest against his, ghosting your lips over his, taking in his musky scent. it's how you look so needy, how you're so whiny for him that urges him on, that grants you the one thing you've been needing.

his hands smoothly slip from your ass to your hips and lift you effortlessly. with the pressure relieved, you gasp as he exists. finally gifted with the slick glide of his heated cock dragging in all the places inside of you

when the head of his turgid length brushes at the roof of your canal stimulating that one special spot, your eyes all but squeeze close. every cell, every nerve ending comes to life erupting in a sensation that consumes you entirely, stealing every breath in your lungs.

your back arches, flailing in his grasp and he almost loses his grip while you come undone around him. his name a burning prayer on your lips, sung only for him yet undoubtedly for everyone to hear

"that's it baby, let go for me" hotch rumbles, continuing his delicious assault upon that spot again and again with each down stroke of your hips aided by his own hands.

your body felt as though it was on fire, as if every fiber of your sanity and being had been ripped then sewn back together again. he keeps the brutal rhythm as you tried to scream, to form any sort of intelligible sentence but everything fails. all you can feel is him, your lover. nothing but a broken moans leave your lips, holding tightly to you.

you had never felt so alive and yet simultaneously close to death. you wanted to cry, to scream, to burst into flames all at the same time as he brought you higher and higher to the skies. how could this be everything you had ever wished for? how could he be everything you dreamed off?

through the haze of your fading orgasm, you look at your beau who held back. you knew by how his muscles were coiled tight, ready to strike. his breath hitched and instantly it felt like a switch had gone off in him, like his animalistic side had come to play. he could never be this wild, this free with anyone before. you had brought out the beast, tamed it with a magic incomprehensible to him.

then with the speed that was his hallmark, he had pinned your wrists to the bed. your back had met the pillows, underneath his weight. his throbbing cock was still sheathed to the hilt, never missing a beat. he snapped his hips forwards viciously, making your vision blurry. it felt like he had become bigger somehow, the pleasure amplifying until you were seeing stars.

your hear your name leave him lips but it hardly sounds like him. his voice is gravelly, dangerous and sharp sending a wave of excitement straight to your over stimulated clit.

you were his to claim, to consume, to devour

"you're mine" he growls into your ear, his teeth marking several bites around your chest. he pounds over and over into you, grunting and groaning his pleasure. his hands lace with yours, daring you to move but there's nowhere you'd rather be.

with every powerful drive of his hips, your body rocks against him. your fingers were clawing at his back, trying to find some ground, to find your footing but your mind was overcome with how good he made you feel. you feel his release coming, in rapid and hard coiled deep within your belly. his muscles are clenched tightly, stuttering against you. you feel yourself shaking, slipping as a new feeling completely consumes you, breaking you in a million different pieces.

this time you cry out until your voice is raw and hoarse, gripping onto him like he was a lifeline. almost like you were drowning in him. through the eruption of your climax, you hear him whimper into the crook of your neck his hips still rutting unevenly against yours until you feel every single ounce of his release

it rushes into you, coating you over and over in the hot torrent of his cum. his breathing slows and his grip loosens, a gentle burning sensation rippling through your body. you both knew well and true there would be bruises decorating your curves and a soreness between your legs tomorrow morning but you didn't care. his lips press a warm kiss to the hollow of your throat, snuggling his face into your skin.

"did i hurt you, sweetheart?" he whispers hoarsely, clutching your body delicately. as though you were a doll and the pieces would start to break. but you giggle and shake your head no, combing through his hair with your fingers. you felt like you were floating on a cloud, the waves of pleasure consuming you.

"i love you" he whispers, peeking through his lashes. he holds your face tenderly between his warm palms, giving you another kiss to your lips. he kisses your nose, unable to help how gorgeous you looked under him.

"i love you more," your eyes close as you recieve his kisses, just basking in his glow for a few seconds. it was perfect, all of it was.

"but now i have to shower again" you pull yourself off him but he pulls you back, a teasing smirk on his lips. he kisses you once and then twice, already picking you up in his warm arms. cradling you close to his chest.

"we can go for round 2 in the bathroom together" your arms are around his neck, gazing into his eyes. you can't help but adore this man, he truly was everything you had ever wanted. no more words are said. he parts your mouth with his tongue, swallowing the sounds that escapes you at the contact.

hotch takes control, caressing, kissing and devouring you to your very core. and you do nothing but submit to him again and again, needing the contact and closeness until your soul were one and your bodies were intertwined.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

You need cold, hard evidence and the truth is that there’s none. There is nothing implicating Meghan in any crime.

I’m going to need people to put down their rose-tinted spy glasses and take a deep breath…

(I know I’m just preaching to the choir right now.)

So I do relationship mapping in relation to allegations of criminal conduct as part of my job. DW, imo, has identified indications of associations and fair enough, give H&M a bit of roasting in the fire of public opinion for Bouzy and the other conjecture. But people are seriously misinterpreting how normal associations and even casual friendships are. You can sit and draw a similar connection map (not activity map) of the “anti-M&H” people here and on Reddit.

While H&M’s alleged associations is distasteful, at this point in time with what we know right now, there is definitely no connections or evidence indicative of a conspiracy or culpability (or even of any associations past Bouzy). M&H not condemning or allegedly condoning the actions of the Sussex Squad does not mean they should be frogmarched out of Montecito by MI5 (also the fact that everyone’s minds jumped to MI5 is, at the risk of sounding patronising, kind of adorable).

What I want to add to your good response to the anon, is that potentialities should be seen as one possibility out of many. Getting an indication is one step forward, not a rush to the end zone. While we may like to star Meghan as a Bond villain in our heads, not everything is a conspiracy. People like to chat, people like to ask for favours - that doesn’t make it RICO.

I do think people are forgetting that there are truly awful people who have it out for the Sussexes too. While I hate how Meghan has weaponised discrimination for her own gain, the reality is that there are extremists who hate her not for her conduct, but for her skin colour. People have been arrested for trying to go after BOTH the Wales’ and the Sussexes. This story is not going to end with The Big Bad defeated and a happily ever after for the heroes.

The chances of the Sussexes ending up in criminal court (or even civil court) are slim to none. Yes, what they've done to the BRF is horrific, but it's not illegal. Just immoral.

The best chances, the only chance, at taking the Sussexes down is through the court of public opinion. That's what Dan Wootton is doing; he's airing out the Sussexes' dirty laundry for the court of public opinion to judge.

Because 'public opinion' is the only thing Harry and Meghan care about. Take 'public opinion' away from them - grey rock them just as William and Kate do, neither liking nor hating them - and they're done.

But that's the problem. They're so desperate for public opinion (good or bad) that they're constantly in public opinion and that gets amplified by their fans, Sussex Squad. So the first thing to do is to take care of Sussex Squad, which seems to be where Wootton has decided to start.

[tum-bakery]

I'm re-watching an ace attorney playthrough and you're the only tum blog i know who's also a fan/draws tum fanart of them and I had lil idea I wanted to share because I love putting characters in horrible situations: An earthquake hitting and causing pregnant Edgeworth to get stuck in an elevator, and the panic/stress triggers his labor. Or just an earthquake happening while he's giving birth and it just makes it so much harder for him

-boytumms :)

OH POOR GUY!!!

I feel like I read a fic with this premise a few years back, but I think it is lost to time :(

But I can fully picture this. He decides that regardless of his feelings about elevators... the stairs are too much for him. He's too close to his due date, his belly is too heavy to want to deal with multiple flights of stairs, even if he had been very stubborn about taking the stairs most of his pregnancy. One time wouldn't hurt... right?

LOTS of rambles under the cut >:)

God forbid he's alone, and/or doesn't even have phone service to call for help or support. It's a worst time, worst place situation. and I can't think if it would be kinder for him to struggle enough with labor that he doesn't make much progress before he can escape, or for labor to go painfully and shockingly fast, but... at least it's over? Either way he's screwed and it feels like it takes SO damn long, he's terrified about breathing too much and losing consciousness, or bleeding out.

From a wholesome, love conquers all perspective, I think Miles needing to go through labor while trapped, panicking and reliving bad memories- but HAVING PHOENIX WITH HIM, is genuinely such a narrative win.

Yes, the death of his dad in an elevator during his early childhood was immensely traumatic, and spurred YEARS of living in a newly abusive home life WHILE BLAMING HIMSELF FOR WHAT HAPPENED... but to have the man that proved he was innocent, that always believed in him, that has done SO MUCH for him... be right by his side? Is genuinely priceless. Phoenix is still a goofball that wouldn't know how to handle the situation at ALL, but he'd be there, he'd offer his hand to hold and be there to guide Miles through breathing. He'd do everything he could.

and to top it all off... he would come out of this traumatic event meeting his baby (or babies) and realizing it's a fresh start. Instead of the inciting incident for his terrible childhood and early adult life... it's the start of a whole new life that he can insure never has as tough of a time as he did.

And as a final situation, with a lot of dramatic flair:

Imagine a situation where an earthquake hits, he's stuck in an elevator, and things START to look up. He does get the chance to call for help, and ends up calling Phoenix, who rushes to be as close to his partner's side as he can be, not ONLY because of the panic but because... Mile's DOES realize he's in labor, and it IS just too much for him.

Phoenix gets there, but is given the unfortunate news that it's gonna take HOURS for technicians to solve the problem. Luckily they can open the doors to the elevator and there is some kind of access... but it would be almost impossible to get Miles OUT given how narrow all the gaps around the elevator are and how VERY pregnant Miles is.

So Phoenix is left waiting nearby, just outside, just barely within reach, but THERE. It's a lot of pain, a lot of panic and more than anything else a lot of waiting... but they do try their best and eventually make it through.

[sister-lucifer]

Inspire Me

Edward Nygma A.K.A. The Riddler x Male Reader

(This was inspired and technically written with The Riddler from Batman: The Audio Adventures in mind, but I feel like any version of Eddie works here) 

Genre: Smut

Summary: Edward has caught an unfortunate case of writer’s block, but he can always count on you to inspire him

Content/Warnings: Riding, praise, pet names, Edward cums inside 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“Nothing, nothing, nothing!” 

Edward’s frustrated voice reverberated off the walls, the echoes of his anger ringing in your ears from the other room. You sighed to yourself at the sound.

No matter how smart Edward may be, no one is immune to writers block. It is a terrible plague that befalls evil and innocent alike, an indiscriminate ailment with no real cure, and he’d caught it bad. You could hear him quickly crumple up another few papers and toss them away, groaning loudly when they didn’t make it into the overflowing trashcan. 

For days now he had been pondering like this. He didn’t tell you exactly what had happened, but the Batman had done something or other that had gotten under his skin even more than usual. He’d been doing next to nothing but seething and brainstorming, but it seems nothing substantial had come of it. 

You always worried about Edward when he became like this. You hated seeing him upset, even if it was over something trivial, but you also knew that his greatest breakthroughs always directly followed his worst struggles. Any time soon now he would have his “eureka” moment, you could feel it. 

Of course, that’s not to say he wouldn’t need any help. 

“Oh, sweetheeeaaart!” Edward called to you in a sing-song tone. Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you immediately rushed to him. 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma?” You replied, poking your head into the doorway. The sight before you was a bit jarring, but certainly not unexpected. 

Edward was sitting on the floor accompanied by mountains of discarded papers, half-done drawings of possible inventions or plans of attack surrounding him on all sides. A few metal knickknacks and machine parts laid scarcely about as well. He quickly brushed some of the discarded items away with his arm upon seeing the face you made, but it did little to help. 

You could tell what he was going to ask you from the embarrassed, lopsided smirk on his face alone. 

You and Edward had been a team long before you became his “muse.” He had discovered your brilliant ability to inspire him through…intimate means completely by accident, but he was glad he did. He wasn’t sure how it worked—maybe it was the desperately needed stress relief, or the endorphin rush of an orgasm; it didn’t really matter—but it was more effective than anything he’d tried before. He only used it as a last resort of course (he didn’t want you to feel as though he was just using you), but you were more than happy to lend him a hand. 

Or a mouth. 

Or a hole. 

“My darling, my love, the light of my life,” He began, gesturing for you to come closer. He always did enjoy the overuse of pet names. “As I’m sure you can tell my recent attempts at criminal endeavors have not been very…” 

He flicked a paper ball away with a bored expression as he blew a lock of hair out of his face. 

“…Successful.” 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma, I’ve taken note.” You flashed him an understanding smile as you walked towards him, papers crunching loudly beneath your shoes. “Is there any way I can assist you?” 

Edward responded by simply patting his lap. 

Once you’d planted yourself on top of him he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close with a sigh. 

“Oh, my handsome muse! I’m afraid that my medium has not been kind to me,” He lamented, “Try as I might, no matter how many ideas I conjure nothing is good enough. I’ve exhausted all my resources…” 

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, one of your hands sliding down his arm to lace your fingers with his. You gave a playful squeeze, and you could hear the faintest giggle slip past Edward’s lips. 

“Eddie…” You whispered. Your warm breath against his ear nearly made him shudder. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You pulled back, looking him up and down and toying with the collar of his button up. 

“There’s no need to beat around the bush, you know. If you need me to inspire you, you only need to ask.” 

—————————————————————

“Oh, my inspiration! You beautiful thing, you!” Edward gushed, arms holding you tightly to his chest. The praise encouraged you to bounce faster, craving the feeling of his cock hitting deep inside of you. His restless hands groped and grabbed at every bit of soft flesh you had to offer, leaving no spot on the outside or inside of you untouched. 

“Oh, Eddie!” You mewled in return as you leaned in to press desperate kisses to his jawline. 

“Faster, sweetheart, please…” Edward pleaded. You could feel each heavy breath he took as his chest rose and fell against your own. Your hands held tightly to his shoulders to keep your balance, nails digging into the wrinkled fabric of his loose button up. “More, my love! I can feel it— I can feel your wonderful inspiration! You are absolute perfection, my muse!” 

The best part of his sweet praises was knowing that he meant each and every word. 

Edward adored you. You were the very spirit of his creativity, and he was reminded of it every time he turned to you for ideas. 

Edward needed you in more ways than one, and he was never ashamed to show it. 

“Oh, s-sweetheart—!” He stuttered, an unusual habit for him that only you were ever allowed to witness, “Sweet boy, I-I’m close—!” 

He didn’t have to warn you; you’ve done  this more than enough times to see all the signs. You felt every little twitch of his cock inside of you, and he felt every subtle quiver of yours in return. The feeling of your leaking member grinding against his stomach as you rode him brought him satisfaction to no end. 

“My love, please, will you give me the honor…?” Edward asked, his words soft and sincere against your shoulder. 

“Of course, Eddie,” You replied eagerly. You’d never hesitate to let Edward fill you up, just how you both liked. “Anything for you.”

It was clear you were losing your rhythm now, all your focus directed to angling your hips to hit just the right spot. Edward bucked up into you in return, throwing his head back with a drawn out moan as you squeezed around him. Soon he was thrusting into you wildly, desperately chasing his release. 

“Yes, yes—! Just a bit more! God, mmph—! Perfection!” 

His words of encouragement were sprinkled between frantic calls of your name, which soon took over any attempt at forming a cohesive sentence. He held on to you for dear life, practically screaming for you as he came. The sudden warm rush of him filling you was enough to give you the last extra push you needed. 

“Oh, Eddie!” 

Your last cry was shrill and broken, barely managed between incessant noises of pleasure. Edward hummed in delight at the feeling of your cum falling across his chest. 

Soon you slowed to a stop, both of you going silent as you caught your breath. You rested your forehead on Edward’s chest as he stroked your hair tenderly. 

“Oh, my love, that was exactly what I needed…” Edward said through heavy breaths. You couldn’t help but grin at that. 

“I can feel the ideas flowing, the perfect plan is in my sights— Oh, yes! That’s it! I’m so glad I have you.” The more he spoke the more giddy with excitement he became, muttering to himself in who knows what languages as you stared up at him dreamily. He was adorable when he was like this. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, one you both smiled into.

“You have no idea how much of a help you’ve been, my love. I can’t thank you enough.” 

You shifted in Edward’s lap, placing your hand over his where it rested on your side. 

“You’re welcome, Eddie. I’ll always be here to inspire you.” 

if you like this fic and want to support me, please reblog! its free, takes two seconds, and it’s essential for all creators on tumblr:)!

[20nugs]

Matt X reader. The reader has Been inlove with Matt as long as she could remember. They are best friends and have been since childhood, one day Matt introduce reader to a girl he has been meeting up with. (Without her knowledge) They talk and stuff but reader is devestated and isn’t really good at hiding it, Matt notices and asks what’s Wrong but reader says she has a bad stomach and leaves quickly. Matt goes after her and sees her crying sitting on a nearby bench. There she confesses everything and he kiss her/small makeout session?❤️ Matt had also loved reader all his life. I couldn’t help but love the Chris X reader stress fic. It was super cute! And since i saw you wanted some suggestions here is one!! 🫶 It’s kinda long sorry😅😅❤️

Why can't he choose me?

a/n: this idea is so cute omg

cw: none ig?? kissing💀

summary: request

I sit up from my bed as I hear my phone ping across the room. I automatically know it's Matt, he texts me at the same time everyday, at exactly 12:00pm. I quickly grab my phone, a big dumb smile already on my face before I even read his message. 'Hey, wanna go to the park today?' his message reads. I feel my smile widen. Excitedly I text back, 'Yes of course'. I bound out of bed and rush towards my bathroom to start getting ready. Matt is my best friend, and although we've hung out time and time again, I can't help but get excited every time he wants to.

I brush my teeth and throw on some jeans and a fitted t-shirt. I fix my hair and put on a little makeup, nothing too noticeable but enhances my features nonetheless. I smile at my reflection, hoping Matt will comment on the work I put into my appearance. It's no secret that I've been crushing on Matt since childhood, everyone knows. Everyone except Matt.

I grab my phone and see another message sent around 20 minutes ago. 'Alright, I'll be there in 30 minutes. See you then :)' Matt wrote. I giggle at his smiley face and grab my keys and pocket my phone. I pull on some tennis shoes and get in my car, driving to the park.

I pull up in a space next to Matt's car, smiling at the thought of seeing him. I get out of my car and lock it, heading up to the hill we always sit on.

As I make my way over, I spot Matt already sitting down. I stop on my tracks and my heart drops as I notice a girl already sitting next to him, in my spot. Hatred already floods my body, but I shove it down and continue to trudge towards him, slower than before. Time slows down as I watch her laugh at something he said, grabbing his arm to steady herself. I stand directly behind him and take a deep breath.

"Hey," I say, my voice monotone. Matt whips around, and so does the girl hanging off his arm.

"Hey y/n," he smiles. He stands and offers the girl next to him his hand to help her up. She giggles and puts her hand in his, lingering in his grasp. I bite my lip angrily, hard enough to draw blood. "I wanted you to meet Olivia."

Olivia, I think. A pretty name for an awfully pretty girl. Long, beautiful brown hair, hazel eyes and cute tiny freckles. Damn it, she's pretty as hell.

"Hi!" Olivia says smiling. "I've heard all about you, it's so nice to meet you."

Crap! I think, my eye twitching as I plaster on a fake smile. She's really nice, too! What the hell do I do now?

"Hey Olivia," I say, forcing a smile as I stick out a hand for her to shake. "Great to meet you." She smiles and shakes my hand. I can't help but glance down at her other hand that rests on Matt's forearm. I let go of Olivia's hand and she starts telling me about some random shit, and I unintentionally tune her out, watching her body language towards Matt. A chill runs down my spine as I feel his intense gaze on me, watching my stance. I can tell he knows something is wrong at the slight pinch of his eyebrows.

I watch as Olivia mentions something about Matt in her sentence and rests her hand on his shoulder blade, like I do. Jealousy washes over me in a heavy wave. Matt is still watching me, and I can tell he's about to ask me what's wrong. I interrupt Olivia before he can.

"I'm sorry," I interject, wrapping an arm around my stomach. "I must've eaten something bad earlier, my stomach ad really hurting right now. I'm gonna head over to the bathrooms, I'll be back in a bit." My voice cracks on the last sentence, a dead giveaway to Matt that I'm about to cry.

I whip around, not waiting for their answer and quickly walk to the outdoor bathrooms, tears filling my eyes. I walk behind the large brick wall behind the bathrooms, sliding down to the ground. I let out a sob as I bury my face in my hands. There's no way that's not Matt's girlfriend, not with the way she was so obviously close with him. Why can't he choose me? I think as tears roll down my face.

I still as I hear footsteps approach. I can tell it's Matt by the pattern of which he walks. I hear him sit down next to me. He drapes an arm across my shoulders. "What's wrong?" He asks. "And don't give me any of that 'I'm fine' shit, we both know you're not fine." I look up at him, my heart pounding at the soft look on his face. He gives me a small smile as I look him in the eyes, concern still evident on his face. Just by his expression, I break down in tears.

"Oh God, Matt," I cry, "what's wrong is-" I struggle to find the words. Fuck it, I think, deciding to just tell him how I feel. "I'm in love with you, that's what's wrong," I say miserably. I look him in the eyes again. His eyebrows are slightly raised and he stares at me intently. "I've been in love with you for so long, and its wrong because you're obviously with Olivia and not-" my words are cut off as I feel soft lips on my own.

I widen my eyes as he gently breaks the kiss. He laughs softly at my expression as he frames my face with his hands. "I'm not with Olivia," he murmurs, his face millimeters away from mine. "I could never even think of her in the same way I think of you." With that, he kisses me again, and I actually kiss back this time. My sad mood is immediately lifted to a lighter one at the feeling of his mouth on mine. He pulls me into his lap and I wrap my arms around his neck. I hold back a smile of relief as Matt tilts his head to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, we both pull back, out of breath. Matt lets out a breathy laugh and I smile. "God, I've wanted to do that for such a long time," he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to my face.

I giggle as he peppers my face with kisses. "Matt," I laugh as he kisses down to my neck and back up again.

"There's my happy girl," he says softly. He pulls away from my skin with a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with love and affection. "I'm in love with you, too," Matt mumbles, gently stroking my cheek with his hand.

"Really?" I laugh, lighthearted sarcasm evident in my voice. "I would've never guessed."

"Shut up," he says playfully before kissing me again. "I love you," he whispers against my lips. "You don't have to say it back but I at least want you to know."

I smile. "I love you too, Matt," I murmur, kissing him yet again. I feel him smile into the kiss, and I know that he'll always be mine.

[selineram3421]

Hello! May I get a Alastor x child!Reader one shot that the child basically ran away because of a little fight the child and Alastor had? :)

I'ma say this now. There will be a happy ending because I need it.

Promise Breaker

Alastor and Child Reader One-shot

Warnings ⚠

⚠ a demon gets hit by a car, reader gets an ankle injury, and some cursing ⚠

.

Alastor adopted you after finding you just outside the Cannibal colony, surrounded by a few dead demons.

Since he wasn't a fan of children he was going to ignore you, but after noticing how quiet and still you were he decided to approach you.

He questioned why you were around the Cannibal colony and you explained you were hiding. It really was an in the moment decision but he adopted you a few minutes after your first encounter.

.

"Alastor?"

You were bored.

Everyone was busy today and you wanted to play with someone. Fat Nuggets was with Angel, so that's one less playmate.

Walking into his office, you see he's not in the room and decide to wait for him. Sitting on his chair you're at eye level with the desk , finding papers and a pen.

A few drawings wouldn't be so bad. It would also help with your boredom, just until he came back at least.

You didn't know that you were drawing on important documents for the hotel.

A short while later, Alastor enters his office and sees you in his seat which makes you look smaller than you actually are, beginning to walk over to the desk.

"Hello little one, what do you-", he stops, looking down at the papers you've been drawing on.

The tone he uses to say your name makes you freeze. Looking up you can see that he's upset.

"Yes?", you ask, confused.

"These are important.", he states, picking up the papers. "And you've drawn all over them."

"Oh..", you say and put the pen down.

"Yes, oh.", he sighs. "Did you draw on all of these papers?"

"I'm sorry.", you mumble. "I got bored and I wanted to play with you but you weren't here, so I started drawing. I felt lonely."

"Darling, I'm busy. The whole hotel is busy, I can't dally at the moment.", Alastor says, and picks you up from his office chair. "Go and play elsewhere."

"But you don't even care about the hotel! You just-", you begin to whine but shut up when he gives that black eyed stare.

"I will not tolerate a brat.", he says.

You frown and get out of his hold, making your way out of the office.

"And I won't tolerate a promise breaker!", you shout and slam the door behind you when leaving.

.

Alastor lets out a sigh.

He found some extra copies of the documents that you drew on and made more just in case. You didn't show up during dinner, and he believes that you might still be throwing a fit over what happened earlier.

Still, he should check on you.

Arriving in his hotel room, your room was just on the other side of a sliding door. He prepared your favorite cookies and drink to make amends.

"Darling? My little demon?", he calls, lightly knocking on your door. "I have cookies!"

Its quiet on the other side.

"Alright, I apologize for being upset, but you do need to be more careful with the papers on my desk."

Nothing.

He calls out your name and opens the door. Looking around your room, he doesn't see you anywhere.

Everyone was busy. The hotel has been scarily quiet. That would mean-

Putting on his coat, Alastor rushes out of the room.

Did they get taken again? Are they out in Hell?

He leaves the hotel after searching every room, not seeing you at all. With a snap, shadows are sent to look for you and he continues on his search.

Did they run away?

That thought alone makes him stop.

Standing on the sidewalk, he thinks about what might have caused all of this. Demons avoid walking by him, running across the street to walk on the other side.

What did they say before leaving. A promise breaker?

He hums in thought.

Another demon runs across the street to get away from the Radio Demon, only to get hit by a car.

Then he remembers the promise that he made. "I promise that you'll never feel lonely, even when I'm occupied."

"Oh dear."

.

You were making your way back to the Cannibal colony. Wiping away your tears and cursing like a sailor now that Alastor wasn't around.

"Stupid fucking jerk! Mean piece of-", you sniff, wiping more tears away with your sweater.

A yelp comes out your mouth when someone lifts you by the collar of your sweater.

"Well looky here~", an old looking demon says, lifting you up to his eyes. "A new lab rat!"

"Hands off Stinky Pete!", you shout and kick him in the gut.

They shout in pain and drop you. Making you land on your bottom. Before you can run away from the creep, they stomp on your ankle.

You scream and kick at their leg with your free foot. "Get off! Get off!", you shout.

"I'm gonna have fun ripping you apart kid!", the demon says and goes to jump you.

"No!", you turn away and hide your face in fear.

Feeling the weight of the demon's foot off of your ankle, you peak out to see what happened.

"It seems that most do still prey on children.", Alastor growls, holding the demon that attacked you by the neck. "Whå† Ðð ¥ðµ †hïñk ¥ðµ'rê Ððïñg †ð m¥ ¢hïlÐ?"

The demon who is being choked looks beyond terrified now, shaking their head and trying to get out of his grip.

You watch as Alastor summons up a portal and lets the demon get dragged off into it by tentacles.

The red dressed demon makes his way to you and you turn your cheek, not wanting to look at him.

"My little one, look at me.", he says.

"I'm mad.", you mumble, not wanting him to hear your voice waver.

"I know darling, but please look at me."

You turn your head and glare at him.

"I didn't mean to break our promise little one. I'm sorry for getting upset over such a silly thing and calling you a brat.", he says and holds a hand out for you. "I care mon petit."

Tears begin to make your vision blurry, and you cover your face to cry.

"You were mean!", you sob and let Alastor pull you into a hug. "I get to say all the swear words I want until I stop crying!"

"Yes, yes. That's fine.", he says and pats your back, lifting you up from the ground and beginning to make his way back to the hotel.

"Asshole! Dumb deer man! Stupid weird idiot!", you continue, now hiding your face on his chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Your wound is taken care of in your room, and you eat your favorite cookies that Alastor made for you.

.

Yay cookies. Oh no headache.

~Seline, the person.

ML for Alastor🎙

[cup1dt3a]

what if y/n or reader was the villain in the show welcome home puppet show and had a crush on one of the character

There was only one person who did this so far and i loved it

would the reader go easy on them or harder so no one would know

would they show concern when there crush is crying

would they stop there plans all together if they were asked by that person (only for a day maybe)

Tysm for the request and love the idea! And I’m doing this with 2 of the members in cast if that is ok because no on was specified on here and I just really want to write about Julie! Also this is fan content of welcome home that has nothing to do with the lore!

Oh to be the antagonist of this story is very “interesting”. You’re always the cause of the moral of the story on why doing whatever it was is bad. Or you just sabotage them throughout the show.

But mostly sabotaging the main character Wally Darling. Always messing up his paintings by adding yourself to the picture. Literally you just crudely draw yourself right beside him. Even going as far as to cross a few of his friends out or replace their heads with yours. While always leaving a signature evil as yours right next to his with a little heart. All over yours and his neat signature. Sometimes putting a heart around both your signatures as a way to circle them. You thought it was cute and a sweet sorry. While Wally was sometimes annoyed by this you would always cut him off before he could say anything.

Most of the time apologizing with “ I’m so so very very sor-sore- sarh- sarh-I think I’m gonna puke! SORY! I said it now you can’t be mad at me…oh geepers my tummy is all topsy turvery now I hope your happy!”

Yes for comedic purposes you could never say sorry without almost puking it was a curse and a gift.

You would always go the hardest on him. No matter where or who he was with Wally would always be your main target. He was just so much fun to mess with. Such as putting the blame on him in Howdy Pillar’s shop by stealing an apple from its once neat stand. Leaving a mess for the yellow man to have to clean up himself. As they all fall you disappear with a clever disguise. Glasses and a mustache. The perfect disguise no one can recognize you! Well kinda? Howdy and Frank always know it’s you and you have no idea how. You fooled Julie and Barnaby with it. Even Wally you think? So how are they exposing you like that!?

For anyone else maybe a few pranks here and there but Wally oh dear sweet Wally will always be victim to your harshest pranks.

But Wally was also the only person you ever listened to that made you stop your devious plans all together. One little “ No, not today Neighbor.” And you’re done for. Fully defeated, and devastated that your plans were cancelled. Not really to be honest you could always do them next time.

Crying. Is something you’d never really try to make anyone do. Really it’s all harmless fun until someone gets hurt. And if Wally do happened to get hurt or start crying your the one who is literally comforting him. Pulling out tons of tissues from your pocket. Panicking over the fact that you made him cry. So you’ll disappear for a few days and go very and almost too easy in everyone especially Wally for once.

You were once again in your unnoticeable disguise. The same one you always wore as you walked around the colorful road of the neighborhood to find Wally. You the came upon the man asking what to paint. Excitedly rushing over onto his shoulder.

“ I think you should paint me~!” you announced dramatically catching the blue haired man off guard.

“ Sure neighbor.” He said gaining his composure now catching you off guard.

Now this was a surprise as you blushed. You quirked your eyebrow at his calmness and to the fact that he willingly without hesitation said he would paint you.

“ Fine then…stranger! Paint me as if I’m the most amazing person in the world! Because I am!” You proclaimed in a dramatic pose.

“ Whatever you say ___.” He said with a sigh as he started to paint catching you fully off guard.

You panicked declaring an answer on how he knew it was you.

“ You use the same disguise and put a different mustache on every time you’re doing something no good.” He said as you huffed.

You thought no one would notice especially with the purple mustache. Come on it was purple and very long and pointy too. And you even got different shoes. This is so unbelievable the nerve of that pretty man!

To be the antagonist of the story and have Julie as your main “victim” is the hardest thing ever. She always laughs and says “ Oh neighbor you’re so silly!” or “ Can you teach me how to do that!?” and even “ Hear let me help you I know an easier way to do that.”

She is too nice to you. She even laughs when you’re doing your evil laugh too! It throws your whole vibe off! You’re supposed to be the evil villain that strikes fear and misery. Not the joke of a villian with some stupidly adorable blonde who always helps and complements you! No she’s supposed to fear you not hug you right after you just tripped over falling face first from your epic exit!

With Julie you go harder on her than anyone else! Not because you like her no it’s because you hate that she is supper nice and supportive; She’s always trying to help you become a better person and…she needs to be stopped. Julie is always thought rushed away from you when Frank is near. The man pulls her away as she tells you “ Bye ___! Hope you have a good day!”

“ Guys I think they just need a chance!” She’ll say while being told “ THEY JUST TRIED TO TRICK HOWDY INTO GIVING THEM OWNER SHIP OF HIS OWN SHOP!”

Making Julie cry is the worst thing you could ever do. Literally if you’re the reason she cried or because you ran into the always happy blonde crying you better give her a hug. It’s technically illegal not to. She is just a ball of pure sunshine that is too nice. If you don’t hug or try to comfort her you’re a heartless monster at that point. But if you are the reason she cried because of you. Do not show your face for a few days. Never show your face again you monster!

“ Hey Julie….Um so I’m sorry about what happened yesterday… I brought you flowers.” You sighed as you handed her the huge bouquet of all her favorite flowers.

“Listen I swear I didn’t mean to ruin that feild of flowers…my Poison-inator3000 somehow malfunction and-“ “ Oh Neighbor! You’re the best!” She gasped hugging you around the neck with a loving squeeze.

She happily smiled at you as you just stood in show with the bouquet still in your hands. You slowly hugged her unsure how to huge her in your akward position and mental state. The sweet blonde is hugging you. Repeat the sweet adorable blonde is hugging you.

Sorry for the wait I’ve been busy recently. So expect me to post more often! Hope you’re all doing well or things are getting better!

Sincerely-Cup1dT3a💕

[corazondebeskar-reads]

all I did was what I had to - part three

all I did was what I had to miniseries

part three: we can't both become the same

series masterlist | part one | part two | part three

dark!raider/hunter!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Joel realizes he never finished teaching you a lesson. (Takes place after part two but before part one.)

Warnings: dark, dub-con, dead dove do not eat, dark!Joel/raider!Joel comes with his own warning, bathroom control, watersports (yes again. much milder this time), d/s dynamics if you squint but not SCC/RACK/etc compliant, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, Joel is mean, spit play, vaginal sex

also on ao3

“Um, Joel?”

“Yeah?” he looks up from where he’s cleaning dirt from under his nails with the tip of his switchblade.

“I think the door’s stuck. Can I go around, please?” The bathroom is situated between your room and Joel’s, with entrances from both bedrooms. But obviously, you couldn’t just leave.

The request was a courtesy, an appeal to his penchant for politeness heldover from Southern hospitality before the world fell to shit. You were already moving to the door.

“No.”

You startle, turning on your heel to look at him. Sometimes, he likes to make these jokes that aren’t really funny to anyone but him, so you have to check. But there’s no smirk, no glint in his dark eyes.

“Oh, um. Okay. Can you help me with the door, please?”

“Ain’t stuck. It’s locked.” He’s gone back to his nails, but when you don’t respond right away, he peers up at you from his perch on the bed. Now there’s the hint of a smirk, the tiniest quirk of his lips in one corner.

Okay, you can do this. You’ve walked into a trap, somehow, but you need to figure out what you did wrong and see if you can make amends. “I’m sorry,” you blurt too quickly. With nowhere to go but forward, you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Oh yeah?” he leans forward, elbows on his knees, and draws the blunt edge of the switchblade down your cheek, the smirk spreading as you shudder. “What’re ya sorry for?”

“I—um—”

“Um—um,” he mocks, dragging the blade back up. “See, ‘cause this wasn’t a punishment. But now ya got me thinkin’ you’ve done something bad.”

Your bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know, I just—”

“Ya just what? Apologized for nothin’? You’re gonna make me think you only say sorry to get out of trouble, instead of meanin' it.”

You open your mouth but have nothing to say. Nothing to defend yourself by. So, instead, you purse your lips back together and try not to cry.

��C’mon now,” he says. “What’re you so afraid of? I ain’t ever hurt ya.”

It’s true. At least, as far as punishments go. He’s spanked you or smacked you around a little when he gets rough during sex, when he needs a little extra stress relief, but he’s never raised a hand against you in anger. He doesn’t need to.

At first, the humiliation and degradation were intense when you misbehaved. But you were one of those meek people pleasers your whole life, a teacher’s pet, tripping over your own feet in the rush to make someone else happy. It was how you ended up married to Noah, though you did tell him no. You told him no over and over up until the point where Joel made putty from his face.

And maybe that was it. Maybe, deep down, you were just grateful that Joel didn’t hurt you, didn’t starve you, didn’t leave you without water or medical attention. Instead, you were haunted by genuine guilt when you disappointed him. He protected you, provided everything you needed and more, and you thanked him with this disrespect?

He’s watching you with narrowed eyes, watching as yours dart back and forth while you scramble to catch up.

You look up to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Joel. I panicked. I didn’t want to have done anything to upset you.”

He softens a little and pulls the blade away, folding it and slipping it into his pocket. He replaces it with his warm palm against your cheek. “I know, sweetheart. You’re always tryin’ to be my good girl. You gotta understand, it just ain’t possible all the time. That’s what I’m here for. To help ya.”

Oh no. You have direly misunderstood the situation. You squirm a little, both from nerves and from the pressure the position puts on your full bladder.

It seems to remind him why you ended up there in the first place. He gives your cheek a couple firm pats and sits up. “I’ve done you a disservice, darlin’.”

Oh no. You dig your fingers into your kneecaps to keep your breathing steady.

“You remember when we had that little incident, and I had to teach ya a lesson in that fuckin’ Burger King?”

You nod. Of course you remember. That was the thing about Joel’s “lessons.” They were always effective.

“Well, I was thinkin’ about it, and realized I only gave you half the lesson.” He shakes his head.

All at once, you recognize what you’ve been missing all day. His suggestion that you take a day to relax together and stay in bed. How he’s only used your mouth all day. How he’s been handing you bottle after bottle of water. It was all so casual, so easy to lose track of as you played cards and read.

He’d even stopped you mid-blowjob to offer you a drink.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “I’m going to make it up to you. Get your shoes on.”

You whimper but obey. As you always have, as you always will. Joel’s command is your north star in this wretched world.

He holds out his other jacket, the patched-up brown corduroy cradling you as you slip it on. You let yourself tune out the rest of the world and soak up the spice and musk of him that lingers in the lining. The heft of it on your shoulders reminds you that no matter what he’s about to put you through, you’ll come out the other side worthier of his tender care.

He unlocks the bedroom door after sliding into his own coat and looks at you for a moment. You burrow into the coat but give him a soft smile, and so he takes your hand in his and leads you through the hall, down the stairs, and outside the house.

It’s dark. You hadn’t realized it was so late. The moon is heavy, nearly full, and looming over the woods. A light dusting of snow has settled on the late fallen leaves, muffling the crunch under your boots.

He doesn’t take you far, not willing to risk Infected over a simple lesson. Just far enough into the thicket that you can barely see the house through the thick trunks of the trees, but still within the perimeter.

He lets go of your hand and takes your chin in his. “You gonna be good?” he asks gruffly.

“I’ll be good,” you whisper, the puff of your words spiraling to dissipate in his scruff.

“Alright. On your knees.”

The damp seeps in as soon as you’re on the ground, knees of your jeans soaked in snow and mud. You swallow hard as he looks down at you.

“Me first,” he says, pulling down his fly and fishing his cock out of his boxers.

You tense up and hold still, but he doesn’t demand anything from you, not even your focus, as he stands next to you, facing the other way, and relieves himself. You don’t watch, but you’re forced to listen, anyway. It’s not so bad.

When he’s zipped back up, he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his face and squints down at you. “Now you, sweetheart.”

“What?” You’re not confused by the demand but by how you’re expected to follow it like this. On your knees, fully clothed.

“It’s freezin’, baby, hurry up.”

“Can I take my pants off?”

“No, didn’t ya just hear me? I need that pussy to stay warm for me, can’t stick my dick in a fuckin’ freezer. Just hurry up and piss so we can go inside.”

You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. There’s no getting around this, and even if you tried to wait him out from the cold, you know your aching bladder will lose the standoff. You whimper and look up at him with wet eyes.

“You can do it,” he murmurs. “I spent all day helpin’ ya get ready.”

The message is clear. You ball your hands into fists and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to relax enough to let go. You don’t let out your breath until your lungs burn.

“Please,” you whisper.

“Please, what? You want some help?”

You nod, eyes still shut tight, though you’re uncertain how exactly he plans to help. He kneels on the ground behind you and wraps his arms around your hips, one hand folded over a fist like he’s about to attempt the Heimlich maneuver.

“You ready?” His breath is hot against your neck. He’s pressed firmly behind you, and you’re not really surprised to feel him half-hard where his crotch meets your back. You bite your lip and nod.

He pulls his hands back, unrelenting pressure notched right at the top of your pelvis. It’s too much, and he doesn’t let up, increasing the force behind his grip until your body fails you (or saves you) and you begin to leak. You burst into tears.

“That’s it, good girl,” he says, pressing his lips against your neck to lick and bite. “Let it all out, sweetheart.”

You can’t stop once it’s started, and your eyes burn as the heat spreads down your legs, soaking your jeans. The sharp breeze turns it nearly to ice, stiffening the denim and sending your teeth chattering.

When he’s satisfied, he stands up, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

He leads you back, though your cheeks burn as he brings you through the main level to the staircase. You’re sure the handful of hunters scattered through the living room are looking; it’s not often they see you outside. If they notice anything, which they surely must, they don’t say a word.

Joel crowds you into the bathroom and starts the shower. Hot water doesn’t last long, so he strips you both of your clothes and corrals you into the tub, drawing the curtain behind him.

You give yourself a quick, perfunctory scrub before rubbing between your legs and down your thighs until the rough sponge leaves you raw. You lather your hands with the bar of soap, and he lets you wash his hair.

The steam of the shower has warmed your bodies, and you’re slick where you press together in the tiny space. You run your hands through his locks, teasing the ends into curls and gently massaging his scalp with your nails. He groans, eyes closed, and obliges you when you tip his head back under the spray to rinse.

Once upon a time, you think this may have been when people would fuck in the shower. Way back when the hot water lasted more than six minutes and would soothe your sore muscles as you indulged.

Neither of you are keen to try it now, knowing the pressure will wane and the spray will sputter any moment, heralding the oncoming frigid blast. You’re out and dry a solid minute before it would have happened.

His eyes are heavy where they fall on your breasts, trailing over your stomach and down your legs. When he raises them to your face, they’re dark and sharp. You don’t even bother picking up your clothes, instead shifting so you’re facing him straight on when he steps forward to capture you in a ferocious kiss.

He pushes you back out the bathroom door with his momentum, hands on your waist guiding you to the edge of the bed. When you back into it, you immediately move up the mattress, widening your hips and making room for him between them.

He slides a finger through your folds and brings it up to his pleased grin, sucking it clean. He leans down to kiss you again, licking into your mouth to share the taste of your tang from his tongue. You moan, arching a little off the mattress to meet him.

He doesn’t bother to spread you open, opting instead to push the tip in until it splits you slowly, then shove the rest of the way inside. He swallows your cries like they alone could sustain him. When he sets a steady pace, he pulls back a little to study your face.

His brow is furrowed, even as his lips part in a pant from the tight grip of your cunt. “You’d let me do anything to ya, wouldn’t ya?” He watches your features, weighing your honesty as you nod.

“Yeah,” you gasp. “Anything.”

“Shit.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he growls.

You do, just the way he likes, with your tongue out. He works his jaw and then spits right on your tongue.

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He’s sneering, lip twitching like it wants to split into a grin. When you swallow it down and open your mouth to show him, it slips into a satisfied smirk instead. “Yeah, you’re all mine, aren’t ya?”

You nod, whining. You’re too close to feel the humiliation, instead waiting with your mouth open to see if he’ll do it again.

He does. But this time, after you swallow, he covers your mouth with his hand before picking up the pace, slamming hard enough that you scoot up the mattress a little with each thrust. He grips the headboard with his other hand so you don’t slam your head into it.

His hand muffles your cry as you cum again, and he pulls out, yanking you forward. You scramble to meet him halfway, and he fills your mouth. You hold it open, cum pooling in your throat.

He groans. “Swallow,” he says through heaving breaths as he comes down from his high. “That’s a good girl.”

It’s nearly dawn, now. He lets you up to use the bathroom, smirking at the hesitant way you ask, before settling down for a nap with you curled against him.

*title from "Jars" by Chevelle.

[greetingfromthedead]

Bound (Wolfwood x F!Reader)

Plot: Lucky you've found an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere where Wolfwood can play the villain to his heart's content. Who am I kidding? There is no plot here.

Series: None (oneshot)

Pairing: Wolfwood x F!Reader

Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI

Tags: no use of y/n, pwp, smut, light BDSM, light bondage, vaginal fingering, hand job, p in v sex

Word count: 2k

Author's Note: Was I supposd to edit my series? Yes. Did I get lost writing Wolfwood smut? Also yes (meant to only write like 700 words of this).

The clouds in your head start to retreat, clearing your mind enough to look around in the dusty room. Your limbs are still as heavy as lead, and your breathing is sluggish. The tattered remains of the bugnet dangle from the ceiling, eaten up by the worms it was meant to keep out. The material brushes over your bare skin as the wind from the open window sways the curtains. The last golden rays of sunshine pour into the room, casting a warm glow over the decaying attic you find yourself in. A sharp sting of cigarette smoke brings you back into the moment, and you turn your head to see the tanned figure lean out the window. He takes a long drag, his dark hair is sweaty as he pushes it back. You look at his naked body, the curve of his back, and ass. You can't help but feel a rush of desire wash over you. How is that even possible? How have you not gotten your fill yet?

Your eyes move a little further to see the cross leaning against the wall beside the man. The weapon of mass destruction gleams there in all its glory, lightly glowing. The belts, usually keeping the firearm wrapped in cloth, are currently tying you to the old and creaky bed. The air brushing over the damp parts of your skin makes you shudder. You feel your core still leaking; the wet covers cling to your ass. You finally wake completely from your pleasure induced haze and remember the mercyless teasing and torture you've been through.

"Nico," you whisper, longing for him to come back for more.

The man by the window turns around, a crooked grin on his face as the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth. Your gaze glides over his body downward; you see the shift in his posture as he pushes himself away from the windowsill. His eyes lock onto yours, a mischievous spark in them that sends a shiver down your spine. He is hard as steel. Still, or again? You're not sure.

"Hey, Poppet, you're back I see," he says with a smirk. "I started to think you tapped out for the night."

"I didn't think it would have stopped you," you exhale, your breathing finally returning to a normal pace.

"I'm not a monster." He chuckles lightly as he walks closer to the bed, his hungry eyes never leaving yours. "I only play the part of a villain."

"Yes, of course, the big bad wolf." You purr as you try to lean closer towards him, but the restraints around your wrists keep you as you are.

"For you, I'll be the Devil himself, Doll." He takes the last long draw of his cigarette before extinguishing it on the nightstand. "I want you to know exactly who's in control here."

"What kind of priest talks like that?" You tease him as you struggle against the bindings.

"Oh, darling, you should not have said that," he responds with a wicked grin. He leans his knee onto the edge of the bed, and the old mattress lets out a long and whiny complaint. The priest then leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, and whispers, "You make me want to do deprived things to you."

His warm hand slowly caresses your tender body, fingers dancing over your breast and down your stomach, sending shivers along your spine. He fills you with anticipation again, like he has never touched you before. The elbow of his other arm leans into the pillow under your head, his long fingers framing your face as he leans close. You lift your head to meet his lips, but he pulls away, his eyes glinting with mischief and desire.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" His hot breath tingles your skin, and he looks down at your body as if drinking it up. His fingers reach your aching core, and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure. Everything is still overly sensitive from the multiple earth shattering orgasms he has brought forth already. Your hips try to jerk away in an attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation, but the knots around your ankles won't let you get far.

"Are you trying to run from me, Little Rabbit?" Wolfwood speaks as his lips graze our neck. "You shouldn't do that. It only makes the game more exciting."

You squirm against the restraints as he firmly strokes through your sensitive folds. The heat in your core is a wildfire; you hear the wet sounds his hand makes against your bits.

"I tell you what. If you're good, I'll reward you with what you truly desire." His murmur vibrates against your skin, and you can feel yourself starting to melt under his touch.

"Really?" you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling a rush of lust flood through you.

"Yes. Last time, you didn't obey, and I had to pull out. What a tragedy." The amused smirk in his voice is so clear, you don't have to see his face to imagine the crooked smile.

His fingers trace your entrance before he slides a digit in, your walls clamping down on it as if trying to suck it in. He is more impatient than before, no longer mercilessly drawing out every feeling he brings forth; instead, he already curls his index, looking for the sweet spot he so lovingly teased before. You cry out in pleasure, unable to resist the sensation he brings. His kisses move up your jawline as you moan into his ear. He adds another finger, and you want to clamp your thighs around his hand, but the belts keep your legs pulled apart. You feel yourself teetering on the edge of bliss, knowing you are completely at his mercy. His palm presses against your swollen clit while his fingers tease you relentlessly. The pleasure is blinding, the haze is starting to cloud your vision. You can't help but moan loudly, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation. Somewhere in that extasy, you cry out his name in desperation.

"That's my girl," he praises you as he works you through the pleasure. His touch is intoxicating, setting your whole body on fire. He doesn't even let you catch your breath, his lips locking with yours and his tongue swiping against yours in a passionate dance. You melt into the kiss, completely lost in the moment. He pulls away, only to replace his tongue in your mouth with his fingers. You taste the stringy slick he just pulled from your core, his wet palm brushing against your chin as you suck on his digits.

"Do you think you've been a good girl?" He says it with a smirk, his gaze piercing into your eyes. You nod as your tongue twirls around his fingers. You let out a moan as his other hand tightens in your hair.

"You think you deserve the reward, Poppet?" You nod, eager for what he is offering. He pulls his fingers from your lips, tracing them through his own mouth before leaning closer and kissing you again, the sweet taste of your desire lingering on his tongue. It doesn't last though, as he pushes himself up and you see him in full display, eager to blunge into you. His eyes are filled with hunger and passion, ready to consume you whole.

With the loud complaints of the bed beneath him, Wolfwood settles between your legs. His fingers trace along your skin, down to your knees, stroking every inch of your calves until he gets to your bound ankles. With nimble fingers, he undoes the buckles and sets your feet free. Reflexively tensing at the sudden release of pressure, your legs move closer together, capturing the man between them. He lets out a disapproving click of his tongue.

"I do one nice thing, and already you forget your manners," he says with a deep and dangerous voice as his hands grab on to your thighs and force your legs apart, exposing you completely. His hungry eyes move from your face to your core, devouring every inch of you with a sinister grin. He inches closer to you until his hips are pressed against yours. "I guess I have to teach you some respect again. You are hopeless."

You brace yourself for what is about to come next. His strong hands grab hold of your hips and lift your lower body up, your hands still pulled up above your head, no slack in the belts that bind your wrists. He grinds against the folds of your sex, making you gasp at his roughness against your aching bits. Your head rolls back in enjoyment of the moment. Even if you had something to say, you're unsure if you even know how to form words anymore.

"Look at me, Poppet. That's it, good girl. I want to see your face when I sink in and rearrange your insides." Your pleading eyes fix on him as he, true to his word, begins to penetrate you. He sinks his girth into you slowly and deliberately, causing you to gasp in pleasure as you adjust to him again. You are overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely filled, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as he goes deeper and deeper. It's like you weigh nothing as he holds up your lower half and starts to thrust into you. Your mind goes blank as you surrender completely to him. He burys himself entirely in you, groans escape his mouth as you clench yourself around him.

"Argh," he exhales hard, his head thrown back and his fingers digging into your hips. "You're so tight. This damn cunt of yours is going to ruin me," he mutters, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate. He pulls you higher, allowing himself to grind deep against your sweet spot. Your toes curl as the need in the pit of your belly coils tighter. You arch your back and moan his name, feeling your body respond eagerly to his sweet torture.

"Please… please don't stop," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. Your hips try pucking against his in time with his long strokes, but the strong arms keep you in place. You can feel the tension building inside you, ready to explode at any moment.

"You know I love it when you beg." The words esape him as a growl. "Tell me what you want, Poppet."

"Please, Nico, I want you to come in me. I need you to fill me up." You sob as you pull against the restraints of your arms. "I've been a good girl!"

"Yes. Beg me. Say it again."

"Please, Nico! I need you to fill me up with your love." Your pleading voice manages to form words between the gasping and moaning.

The force of him thundering his whole length into you makes you scream his name. He grinds into you, balls deep, hitting that spot inside you that always drives you crazy. The savage rhythm of his thrusts sends you over the edge, a violent release rippling through your body. You arch your back and cry out in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. Your whole body convulses, squeezing tighter around him until he can't help but empty himself deep inside you with a primal growl of satisfaction. He thrusts into you a few more times before collapsing onto you. Your body finally relaxes, savoring the intense thrill that still lingers. His chest heaves against your body as you both catch your breath, the moment of passion leaving you completely spent and satisfied.

You lay there for a little while, both gathering up what's left of your blown minds. He finally looks up again, and you see the softness of his eyes before he pulls up more and kisses your lips. He is good at playing a villain, but he is anything but. His gentle mouth dances with yours as he releases your wrists, allowing you to entangle your fingers with his sweaty hair. The breeze carries the ragged net from around you and brushes it over your bodies.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Poppet," Wolfwood says quietly as he lifts his face. His eyes are filled with care, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. He pushes up to get off you, leaving you to spill over onto the sheets again as he leaves a yearning void in your core.

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