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queef-of-fortune · 2 days ago

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Marionette (Doflamingo X Reader)

Chapter Thirty-seven:

Plot: When the Straw Hat crew got separated, Kuma sent her to the kingdom of Dressrosa.Unfortunately for her, she caught the eye of none other than the king himself. Donquixote Doflamingo.

The next afternoon, Violet and (Y/N) sat alone together in an awkward silence. Violet didn’t dare try to read her mind again. Not after last time. Instead, she tried to talk to her and attempt to earn her trust at Doflamingo’s request.

(Y/N) was being extremely uncooperative. She wasn’t as stupid and naive as he wished she was. But then again, maybe that’s what he loved the most about her. It was obvious to her that Violet wasn’t interested in true friendship, she only was following orders. It all seemed so methodical. Like she had no real plan.

Violet tried her hardest to interact with her.

“What was your childhood like? Did you have any friends? What about school? Did you go?” She seemed rather eager to learn about (Y/N)’s prior education. Of course, she just sat and gave vague answers like, “It was okay I guess.” Or “yeah.” And then she’d go back to her book.

After about an hour of Violet trying to coax out some real answers, she finally realized that maybe she needed a new approach. Something they could potentially bond over. There was only one thing that came to mind.

“I’m sorry.” Violet suddenly apologized.

(Y/N) peeked up from her book, brow raised as Karma purred happily in her lap.

“Sorry for what?” She responded rather coldly.

“For bothering you. Doflamingo put me up to it, you see.” Violet explained.

“Oh no shit?” (Y/N) replied sarcastically, shoving her nose back into her book.

Violet sighed, feeling rather defeated but she knew she’d be punished if she came back with nothing.

“It’s just that— “She paused for dramatic effect, hoping to grab her attention.

(Y/N) huffed in return, slamming her book shut in irritation. The disturbance made Karma scowl and hop down into the floor, immediately bathing herself in displeasure.

“What?” (Y/N) said impatiently.

Violet was almost appalled by her crass response but kept her composure.

“He wanted me to learn more about you.” She confessed.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and scoffed in disgust.

“Well you can tell him, that I said he can go fuck himself. Did he think I didn’t know what he was up to?” (Y/N) spat rather harshly, squinting her eyes and leaning forwards.

Violet’s mouth dropped at her hateful remark. She began to stutter and couldn’t seem to find anything to retort with. She knew Doflamingo surely wouldn’t be pleased. (Y/N) then leaned back into her chair, looking rather relaxed. Almost as if she didn’t just cuss Violet out just now.

“Look,” she said, “it’s nothing personal. I just can’t fucking stand him.” She tried to explain.

Violet closed her mouth and nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I’m not exactly a fan of his either but I do what I have to.” She admitted.

“Why?” (Y/N) asked.

That was a tough question. Doflamingo single handedly destroyed this country. He pretended to be the hero to save Dressrosa but he was the reason for King Riku— Her fathers downfall. Violet wasn’t willing to give up information if (Y/N) wouldn’t either.

“Tell me something that I can tell Doflamingo and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” Violet attempted to bargain with her.

“Like what?” (Y/N) cocked her head to the side.

“How long did you go to school for?” She asked.

“I started school young, probably four. Graduated at eighteen, then went to college for a couple of years before I ended up a pirate.” (Y/N) answered honestly.

She hoped that that information would be enough to please Doflamingo and keep Violet out of trouble.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.” Violet replied happily.

“Now you.” (Y/N) didn’t forget about their agreement.

Violet sighed, the smile dropping from her face before answering, “It was about eight years ago, my father was the king of Dressrosa. That was until Doflamingo forced him and the guards to attack the civilians using his strings. Then he— “Violet seemed to be getting choked up. “He had my sister killed. I promised to work for him if he let my father live.”

(Y/N) was stunned by her confession. It only fueled her hatred for Doflamingo even further.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” (Y/N) hung her head in shame, feeling guilty she made her relieve such events.

“It’s not your fault.” Violet’s voice cracked as she spoke.

She then stood, flattening out her dress before she retreated towards the library doors.

“Excuse me, I have to go report back.” She said, her back turned to (Y/N).

Doflamingo sat alone in his office, mindlessly scribbling his signature down on every document that required it. His mind wasn’t focused on his work like it should have been. It was always on her. Periodically, his eyes would find themselves drifting in the direction of the swing he had placed for her. It sat empty and still. Completely vacant.

How he wished that perfect little body of her was curled up inside of it. He was desperate for her company. He had been so lonely all afternoon. Yet he controlled the urge to hunt her down. He knew she would be with Violet. He instructed them to spend time together.

He hoped she’d come back with some useful information—

Just then, the sound of the wooden doors creaking open broke him from his thoughts. Violet peered inside.

“Is this a bad time, Young Master?” Violet spoke softly.

“No, no, perfect timing, sit.” He said excitedly, placing his pen down and urging her to sit across from him.

He poured them both a glass of wine hastily, before shoving one of the large glasses in her dainty hands.

“So,” He leaned back in his chair comfortably, “What did you find out? What did she tell you?”

Violet swirled the contents of the glass, staring down into the crimson liquid that rimmed her cup.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” Violet said just above a whisper.

Doflamingo’s expression shifted inhumanly fast.

“Tell me.”

Violet took a deep breath.

“She told you to go fuck yourself.”

Violet closed her eyes tightly, waiting for him to hit her or scream, maybe throw that wine back in her face. But instead, he just laughed. Cackled even. Doflamingo threw his head back in boisterous laughter. It was so loud it shook the frames on the walls.

Once he contained himself, he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk as he wiped faux tears from underneath his shades.

“Go on,” he urged, waving his hand lazily, “What else did she say?”

Violet was taken aback. She didn’t expect this kind of reaction from him. She just stared in a stunned silence for a moment, unsure how to continue.

“I-I um— she said she started school at four and graduated at eighteen.” Violet muttered.

“What else?”

“She also said she went to college for a couple of years before she became a pirate.”

“College huh? What school did she attend?” He asked.

“I didn’t get that out of her.” She hung her head shamefully.

Doflamingo let out an unsatisfied ‘hmph’ but continued. “What did she go to college for? What did she study?”

Violet just shook her head. “I don’t know, sir. She wouldn’t say.”

Doflamingo wasn’t thrilled with that reply, but he seemed happy enough.

“An educated woman…” He murmured more to himself than Violet.

After an awkward moment of silence, he shooed her away lazily.

“Go on, you’ve done well. You’ll be rewarded… Eventually.”

And with that she bowed her head and left. Doflamingo sat in his office for the next hour just thinking. He wasn’t working, he wasn’t drinking himself to death. Just thinking. The glass of wine remained untouched on his desk.

He’d never been with a woman who had any kind of college education. In all honesty, he preferred to fuck stupid women. It’s not like he loved them. Hell, he didn’t even like most of them. But she was different; she was something else entirely. No one had ever spoken to him that way before.

He wanted her badly. Each passing day he grew hungrier for her. He craved to hear his name on her tongue, to feel her quiver beneath him. It was beginning to drive him mad. Sleeping next to her wasn’t enough. Her defiance wasn’t enough. He needed her to love him. No question about it.

Doflamingo removed his glasses and closed his eyes, leaning so far back it almost flipped his chair. He replayed her memory over and over again in his deranged mind. The sight of her little hands working that pen onto the paper before her. He wondered what kind of student she was.

Was she top of her class? Maybe a troublemaker? Potentially even a class clown? The thoughts didn’t stop. What did she major in? Something in the medical field perhaps? Maybe literature? Or history? The possibilities were endless, and he so desperately needed to find out for himself.

He shot up from his chair, pushing his glasses back onto his face before striding out of the room in search of his lover. Of course he found her in the library, where else? She was curled up in the same chair as yesterday, reading his favorite book. The one she picked out all on her own.

“So, you think I should go fuck myself, huh?” Was the first thing he said as he barged through the doors,

He didn’t hide his presence this time. He strode in loud and confident, letting the double doors slam shut behind him.

(Y/N) jumped in her seat, wide eyed and surprised by his sudden entrance. His feathered coat billowed behind him as he walked towards her, stopping only a few feet away.

“I bet you’d like to watch too, wouldn’t you little bird?” He grinned broadly at his own crude statement.

She sneered in return.

“Fucking gross.” She murmured under her breath before sticking her nose back into the pages of her book.

He quickly snatched the book from her grasp, receiving a ‘hey!’ in protest as she reached out for it. He of course had five feet on her and held it high above her head.

“So, I hear you’re a college girl.” He teased. “Tell me about that, won’t you?” He pretended to beg, not convincingly so either.

“Tell you what exactly?” She crossed her arms across her chest, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“What did you study? I’m dying to know.” He squatted down on her level, still grinning ear to ear as he always did.

“Does it matter?” She retorted.

“Of course it matters,” He reached out a hand, gently stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

She didn’t jerk away. She just sat there, looking out the window as if he weren’t caressing her.

“Psychology.” She answered plainly.

He removed his thumb from her lip, seemingly satisfied.

“Oh, so you are my little master manipulator, aren’t you?” He teased again.

She didn’t reply, just huffed. Still keeping her eyes away from his.

“Oh, now don’t be that way little bird, I’m only teasing.” He continued to rub against her lip with his thumb.

“We’ll talk after dinner. Come.” He stood, reaching a hand out to her.

She took it, just like she always did, and allowed him to lead her away from the one safe spot she had left.

#doflamingo one piece #doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo #one piece #doflamingo smut #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo x you #op doflamingo #ao3fic #doffy

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bittsandpieces · 3 months ago

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Heyyy how do you get your ncst fix? Do you read stories or watch vids? And where? Really trying to find stuff that isn’t just step-bro I’m stuck but without the step >~<

if you go into my fauxcest tag I answered this exact question two days ago! and like a week before that. and last month. and the month before that

#listen i love you guys but please at least take a brief glance at my blog to see if ive talked about something before you ask me again #like this and my bra size are the two questions i get more than any others and my bra size is literally in my pinned post #bitts answers #now if you look for a few minutes and you don't find anything then sure you can ask me #but its been two days and less than ten fauxcest posts in my tag since i answered this in depth

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clowningcrows · 6 months ago

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lol i pregamed a tiny bit for agatha but now after finishing im just taking shots for coping reasons

#i am…… not all that pleased with the ending #/not trying to sound like a complainy bitch #SPOILER WARNING ->#i expected agatha to die tbh #but honestly what i Did not expect was for the ending to feel unfinished #and for me to come out of it feeling so deeply unsatisfied #and it’s not that any of the scenes were bad really!! i loved them #i just feel like a lot of them…. needed some further context or elaboration that we got absolutely none of #like i have So Many questions still that weren’t at all answered by the finale #and also questions that came up BECAUSE of the finale that didn’t get answered lol #idk i’m just.#i’m so proud of kathryn hahn and all of the cast and crew #and i don’t want to seem ungrateful bc i can FEEL that they put their heart and soul into this show #but the writing and contextualization just REALLY really fell flat for me in the last two episodes #also some decisions that felt…weird and last minute #like the reveal of agatha being the one to take jen’s powers?? still makes zero sense to me #idk i just wish we had more time with them i think #also i’m not upset that agatha died again i kinda expected it but the manner in which she died felt abrupt and inauethentic to. e #it just didn’t feel fleshed out at all idkkkkk #ugghhhhhgg #can’t believe i got fucking got by yet another sapphic show #i’m just asking for one good sapphic show with a satisfying ending PLEASE #(read: NOT necessarily a happy ending im not asking for all that i just need it to MAKE FUCKING SENSE!!!!)#anyway. i have more thoughts that ill get into soon im a bit tipsy and prob and not expressing myself right but TLDR love them all but…. 😬#agatha all along #agathario #agatha harkness #billy maximoff #kathryn hahn #joe locke

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 months ago

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oizys u should explain mouthwashing game to me alkdfjals;dkfj ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ it sounds neat but too horror-y for me 😭 but i'm getting. idk just like vague hints that you've heard about it or something <3 sooo if u want to then i could hear about it without having to experience it directly 👀

i dont know what would give you the implication ive seen it im so subtle about my enjoyment of it (lying) but yes ill be happy to provide an explanation :)

specifically what im going to do is . copy and paste the Extremely Detailed Run Through of the game that i told blink in a fit of madness, which is pretty much as close as you can get to playing/watching the game Without playing/watching it imltho

and Then since that explanation will still be kinda horror-y and may not be enjoyed by all ill put at the end of it a tl;dr section that's a more str8-forward explanation of the game with minimal horror elements explained in depth

so if u want to read the whole thing Great, if not feel free to speed scroll to the bottom and read there :) if u have any thoughts or follow up questions Please let me know i love being normal about this game

warnings for: blood, gore, mutilation, severe injury, implied assault (general and sexual), death, general Horror and Tension vibes

mouthwashing is a sci-fi horror game, set on the ship 'the tulpar' with its 5 crew members. there's curly, the captain jimmy, the co-pilot, second-in-command anya, the ship's nurse swansea, the ship's mechanic and daisuke, swansea's intern curly and jimmy are old friends, anya's about their age, swansea's an older man with a family back on earth, and daisuke is a teen/twenties smth who doesnt really know what he's doing with his life

when the game Opens u are told it's '0 days until the crash' and u get to have fun playing as a not-immediately-identified character who's running their ship into an asteroid following that scene you switch to '2 months after the crash' where you're playing as jimmy, with most of the rest of the crew sitting at a table with u and talking about whether or not to open up your cargo hold- as a delivery ship, it's against regulations, but you're stuck in the middle of space, the only thing protecting you from death in the vacuum being piles of emergency foam, and if there's food or medical supplies in there, you need them if youve any chance to survive

you learn in short order that the missing crew member- curly, your former captain now that jimmy's taken over that responsibility- was missing bc he's been in the medical ward for 2 months, devoid of his hands, feet, skin, and one eye. he was in the cockpit when the ship crashed, and it shows. if youve seen the fucked up bandaged guy assoiated with the game, surprise! that's post-crash curly

u get to Have Fun feeding him pain meds after anya asks for your help, saying she cant do it herself. this game has Wonderful sound design so. well. no one's having fun

jimmy then gets to go find a way into the cargo hold, along the way learning that the utility room is foamed up to hells and swansea isnt letting anyone else in there for the time being- the ship's cyro pods live in there, and theyre delicate, so he doesnt trust anyone else to break through the foam without a) killing them b) destroying the pods

once u break into the cargo hold, u see shelves upon shelves of cardboard boxes before the game switches gears to flash u back to 7 days before the crash

u learn ur now playing as curly, who's finishing up a psych eval with anya. he passes, huzzah! and offers to do jimmy's for anya when she mentions that he never takes it seriously, making stupid jokes that she then has to write down for the official report

before doing so, however, curly finds that daisuke has trapped himself in some foam trying to fix a utility vent that leads between the utility room and the medical room. curly gets the axe out for swansea to free daisuke with + clear the rest of the foam. luckily, no one is injured, and the pods (right next to the vent) weren't broken. swansea makes it clear that no one, especially daisuke, is to go back into that vent. it's too fucked up, it can't be fixed, you'll be cut and burned and shocked to death trying

curly takes note before leaving to do the eval with jimmy, with it going over more-normal since curly is doing it instead of anya. they then talk about their respective life positions- jimmy feels he's never going to be good enough, that he's never really gotten anywhere meaningful, and curly is torn between staying in his role as a great ship captain or trying to see if he'd be better off somewhere else, if being a captain is really what he wants to do forever

jimmy makes a comment about how curly's choosing between staying at the top of his current ladder or switching for another, but he's still got 'a long way down/to fall' either way

theyre cut off when a message from the higher ups comes in, and jimmy leaves so curly can read it privately

back to 2 months after the crash, the crew reveals what theyve been shipping: mouthwash. boxes upon boxes of mouthwash. one of them makes a comment about how this is what they wanted us crating across the stars? only mouthwash? anya notes that the mouthwash has too much sugar to be used as a disinfectant, and points out the 14% ethanol content. swansea takes this as a good sign to take a swig of the stuff to Swallow, making a comment about 15 years of sobriety down the drain

we return to 7 days before the crash, where curly has read the message from the higher ups and it is Not Good. he goes to tell the crew, only to have them all greet him with hats and balloons- surprise! happy birthday, curly

they only get one birthday celebration per trip, and they take turns each trip with whose bday they focus on, and this time it's curly. jimmy comments on how the tradition is corny, but he's kinda grown to like it, and he looks forward to the next one. curly reacts oddly before he goes to make the cake; he has to be the one to do it, bc only the captain has the rights to make sugar packets

the crew ask him to do a speech, but as he puts the cake down, they realize something's wrong. they ask what, and curly reveals the news of the note- the 'pony express' they work for is pulling the plug on them. this mouthwash expedition will be their last one- they will get paid for it, curly says, they assured me the crew

doesnt exactly take the news well

swansea said they shouldve seen it coming, pony express was the last organization to run manned delivery ships, the writing was on the wall. anya expresses that she doesnt know what to do- she doesnt have any savings. daisuke asks if they can even do this

jimmy gets more into it, pointing out Specifically how fucked they are- swansea's hardly got that many more working years in him, anya never finished nursing school and hey we all know she never will, but, yknow what, daisuke's got a rich mommy and daddy, so thank gods he'll be just fine. jimmy's got nothing waiting for him on earth, but whatever, i'll be fine, isnt that what you said, curly? that im always fine? down here on the bottom of the rungs? and of course, for curly, this is the best possible outcome! a chance to leave being a captain with none of the guilt of the choice. he wasnt even running from being a captain, just from being around them, but he has to be hero. he's always the hero. and now he's still the damn hero

curly tries to calm jimmy, jimmy slams his hands on the table, and tells him to just cut the goddamn cake

curly does so. it looks more like a stabbing motion

back to post-crash, it's the middle of the night. daisuke's asleep, anya + swansea are missing, and curly's scream-groans are echoing through the ship

jimmy goes to check on curly, finds him flailing. he needs more painkillers, but jimmy's not sure if he's had his set for the day cycle yet, so he goes to find anya. both her and swansea are found in the cockpit, talking about something. anya's not sure what to do. they cut off when jimmy appears, ask him if he's having trouble sleeping too

jimmy asks about the meds, anya says she forgot to do it. jimmy berates her for it before saying he'll take care of it- anya tries to insist she can, but jimmy ignores her to do it himself

curly flails more, pained, screaming, but he gets the meds, jimmy sees to that. theyre running low. once theyre out, jimmy muses, they wont have anything to give curly for the pain, to keep him still

still jimmy, we now enter a This Isnt Reality moment

jimmy's in the main area, the screen that simulates a sky cracked and flashing EMERGENCY on it. at the table is curly, in all his bloody bandage glory. the cake's between him and jimmy. curly- who can talk here, who cant talk in real life anymore- wants to eat the cake. jimmy says it's shitty, subpar, not worth it. curly argues that u need meh things to make the good things Good. he asks jimmy to cut it, and jimmy says he will once he finds a knife

the cake knife is in the broken cockpit, buried in the back of the captain's headrest. jimmy comes back and finds the cake is gone, now curly's on the table instead. the game glitches and cuts to 3 months post-crash before you cut anything

jimmy's in the cargo hold. the place's been lightly ransacked, some boxes open, spilling off the shelves. you need to check on the crew

daisuke's on the floor right outside the hold, sick with a mouthwash in hand. he's drunk some. jimmy says he should stop, it'll kill him-

-faster than anything, daisuke finishes. he gives the mouthwash to jimmy. he never wants to see it again

anya's at the table in the main area, staring at an unopened bottle. there's a backup medical storage area, trapped in the foam, but not That trapped. she thinks they can get to it. they need more medicine

jimmy goes to get the axe from swansea. he's wasted on mouthwash (side note, this crew's ability to survive things that usually kill over the longterm is oddly high. no offense curly and swansea, but you both should be dead well before the end of this affair) and dancing with the axe in hand

jimmy wants it? wants to risk cracking a hole in their ship's emergency foam and killing them all? be his guest- swansea buries the axe in the sky screen behind him, right in the center of the fake sun, and lets jimmy take it away

he gets to the medicine. painkillers- different type, different dose- and medicinal rubbing alcohol (pure alcohol, the inventory tells you, so strong that it could kill)

anya asks him to give the pills to curly again. jimmy breaks again, yelling at anya- can she not do her job?? doesnt she know how busy he is as captain, how much he has to do?? find the scanner, get into the cargo hold, check on the crew, get the axe, and of course, give curly his fucking pills. anya backpedals, says she can do it- but no. jimmy's been asked, jimmy's got it. he'll give curly his fucking pills (the swear is in the mission objective now!)

i get it now, jimmy tells a pained curly, about wanting to get out. being captain's hard. you have to do everything. but don't worry curly. jimmy's going to get them all through this. he's going to fix this. he gives curly his fucking medicine

we now cut to 6 hours before "judgement". jimmy's locked himself in the cockpit- outside, swansea is yelling for him, telling him he cant hide, shaking the door. jimmy rushes to the supply cabinet, finds a broken metal pipe and some rope, these can be useful

he shoves the metal pipe into the door, trying to reinforce the lock. he grabs the rope and swansea breaks through the door's window, reaching through the broken glass for the lock

3 days before the crash, anya's sitting in the main area, looking at the simulated sky. it's set for night, deep blue and silver moon. curly sits next to her. neither of them can sleep, anya says she's been having trouble for a few nights now

there's a dead pixel in the top corner, anya tells curly, if you look closely enough curly cant see it, but he says it'll haunt him. now that you've told me, anya, it'll always be in the back of my mind anya asks how much longer they have to the trip. 273 days, curly responds, just under- -8 months, anya finishes. sits for another moment. captain, why do they have a lock on the door for the medical room, but not the sleeping quarters? same reason they do the cockpit, curly replies. safety the screen glitches out on the word

post crash, 5 months. there's an emergency, daisuke tells us- anya's locked in the medical room with curly

jimmy and daisuke go to investigate, try to force the door open. jimmy asks how hard anya's tried to unstick it on her end, has she put her back into it? she's silent. jimmy asks if the door is really stuck. it isnt, she admits, and she isnt going to unlock it

jimmy says she needs to get over herself, that she needs to learn to deal with hardship. all their meds are in there. she needs to open the door

anya says that she still believes people arent as bad as their worst moment (an earlier conversation, back when we were only 2 months post crash, when jimmy was musing on why they chose to keep curly alive despite the cost, despite 'what he did'). that she believes this isnt her worst moment. they wont stop her from what she must do

jimmy, worried about curly, asks daisuke if there's any other way into the medical room. there is. it's the super duper completely off limits vent that starts in the also currently off limits utility room

to get in the utility room, they need to get past swansea. he's got the key and he's still not letting anyone in, looking miserable and ill as he sits outside the utility room door. he's not dead yet, but the mouthwash isnt exactly doing him any favours

8 hours before judgement. daisuke's on his bedroll, bloody and in agony. they need disinfectant- where's the medicinal alcohol? swansea asks (demands) jimmy tells him cocktail, and swansea curses, tells him to go look for something else. swansea goes to the medical room, door now open. you can't see the area where curly is, cant find anya; the screen glitches out in grey stripes you go the cargo hold. the stairs leading down into them are longer, longer than you remember, too long. take responsibility, take care of it. there's a monster in the cargo, and if you move when it's too close it'll get you

you find a bottle of mouthwash, not yet opened, in the hands of the ship's horse mascot polle

you take it back to daisuke. he tells you he's sorry he messed up, you tell him not to speak

it's too much sugar. you have nothing else you close your eyes and daisuke screams

5 months after the crash. you need to get past swansea. he's got a high tolerance, but it can only be so high, right? you mix a cocktail, one part mouthwash, one part medical alcohol (so strong it could kill)

swansea accepts the 'peace offering.' he hits the ground and the key falls out of his pocket. daisuke worries, will he be ok? it's fine. he has a high tolerance

you open the utility room and find that it's not filled to the brim with foam. the edges are, sure, and most of the cyro pods are ruined, but it's clear overall. there's still one pod standing

daisuke's impressed. swansea's done more work than we thought! jimmy argues he hasn't done any work, he's been lying through his teeth the entire time, hiding the remaining cyro pod as his own secret and excuse to keep welding the axe. only one of them can survive, and swansea's setting it up to be him

daisuke isnt convinced, says they should wait to ask swansea about it. jimmy says theyll deal with him later. for now- the vent

it's still a danger, electricity sparking from a loose wire. daisuke's not convinced this is a good idea. sure, swansea may have been lying about the utility room being foamed out, but he was really serious about this vent. maybe they shouldnt go in

jimmy reminds him this is there only way in, to anya, to curly. daisuke has to go in- he'll be fine, and then, swansea will be so proud of him. he'll have done so well. he'll have done good.... under captain's orders

daisuke folds. he's going to do it. he climbs into the vent. you listen to him clunk through, shuffle over the metal- a pained sound, a groan, and then he's into the medical room. oh, anya, what did you do?

it's 1 day before the crash now. your objective is to find the gun

it's not in the medical room, not in the main area. you go to the cockpit, where it should be, and find anya, kneeling on the floor, distraught. as the nurse, she gave all the psych evals, but no one gave her one. you shouldve. you should have done a lot of things

you'll take care of this, you promise her, you'll get this all figured out. it doesnt have to go on the report logs. where's the gun?

anya tells curly she's pregnant. he asks who.

captain, anya says, i told you.

curly asks for the gun again, says he'll talk to him, he's known him a long time, but he needs the gun back

she reminds him that only the captain can open the case, that she doesnt really have the gun, just the case holding it, hidden away. the bylaws wont let you arm her with it against him, but she wont let it fall into his hands

6 hours before judgement. jimmy cant get daisuke's bleeding to stop. swansea's kneeling next to the kid. he's got the axe again

he talks to daisuke, for a bit. about how he hadnt been able to do anything right, about how swansea didnt know why he had come to the ship in the first place. about how he was just a kid trying to figure everything out. about how he was still always Trying. always wanting to Learn. useless ray of goddamn sunshine. you couldve taught an old fool like me a lot. close your eyes, daisuke

swansea raises his axe and strikes the center of the sun

jimmy starts arguing with swansea, angry, why'd he do that? didnt he see jimmy was fixing it, that he just needed time? why will no one on this damn ship give him any time?

swansea says he's done with jimmy's trying to 'fix' everything, that there was no more hope for any of them, that he was sparing daisuke from spending another second with jimmy and his delusions

jimmy accuses swansea of less selfless motivations, tells him that he knows about the utility room, the one remaining cyro pod- swansea's planning to try and be the last one standing, isnt he? 20 years in a cyro chamber is a better chance than the months theyve got on the ship before food runs out

swansea laughs at him. he doesnt want the cyro chamber. he's got everything he needs right there on the ship. does jimmy want it? he's welcome to it - he can tell whatever story he wants when the rescue crews finally find him. he can be the hero. curly and the rest of them'll take the blame. jimmy can be the hero

jimmy brushes him off, goes to the medical room. anya's on the floor, vomit on her chest and three bottles scattered around her slumped over form. curly, still alive, watches you with one eye as you pry open her hidden drawer and find the gun case. you can open it. you're captain now

you go to the medical door. open it up to find swansea running at you, full tilt, axe raised over his head. you slam the door shut

curly laughs at you. as you open the case, get the gun, find swansea running at you. bloody hunk of meat and he's laugh-crying at you

0 days before the crash. anya's in the medical room, on her knees. she told jimmy. curly says he wishes she wouldve waited for him. it doesnt matter. jimmy didnt take the news well, stormed off. curly goes to follow him. he can fix this. he'll fix this

jimmy's outside the utility room. i can fix this, curly tells him. you'll get through this

it's not just me though, is it? jimmy points out. it's your ship, captain. your responsibility (take responsibility, take care of it). that'll follow you around for the rest of your life

or they'll just see it as your best attempt. a tragedy, despite its impeccable captain's supposed best efforts. no survivors to tell the tale

for a moment, the first moment, you cut out of both jimmy and curly's bodies. you watch jimmy put his hand on curly's arm. take care of it, take care of it, take care of it, kills 99.9%-

jimmy says he'll take care of it, and he walks away

moments later, the ship is crashing, jimmy sitting outside of the cockpit. tell me you didn't-? no response. you pry open the doors to the cockpit, rush in headfirst. you'll fix it. you will fix it, even as fire consumes your vision

1 hour before judgement. you've got curly in your arms now. you walk him out to the main area- surprise! happy birthday jimmy

the crew's seated at the table again; anya with her vomit-covered chest, daisuke with a bloody line through his face, swansea with a bullet through his forehead. jimmy places curly on the table. theyre all celebrating him, begging him for a speech. you pick up the knife

for some people, it's enough just to put food on the table. but not for curly. he needs more. you've always needed more, curly, but that's alright. i still believe in you. even like this

a view from above shows the crew slumped over and unmoving. a view from jimmy's eyes show them sitting up, breathing, smiling. swansea's drinking more mouthwash

you cut through the cake with a stabbing motion, a sawing motion, dropping a slab on each member's plate. the cake sits. curly stares. both his legs are shorter than they were before the crash, but one even more so now. feast

you're in the vents now. take responsibility. there's no going back now. you turn around and something- a face- in the darkness- you're facing the vent again. there's no going back now

you crawl, backwards, through the vents. a bloody note reads responsibility and you crawl from it the fastest. axes line the vents. now flowers, hibiscuses, bright pink like the one's on daisuke's shirt

you tie up swansea. you can still fix this, you tell him. you'll fix this

swansea tells a story. how he used to be a drunkard, always down the bottle, until one day he looked in the mirror and scared himself, saw a bloated body in a ditch if he didnt straighten out. he got sober, got a job, a mortgage, a collared shirt. a wife, kids. none of his achievements ever felt as good as he wanted them too. those days, lost to the bottle, living on the edge- they were some of the best he ever had

if i couldve done one thing right, he tells you, i wouldve saved that kid. that would have been worth it. that would have meant something

jimmy says he can fix this. swansea tells him to fuck off. jimmy fires his gun

you walk through the endless halls of the ship. the walls are sporting eyes, and all of them are watching you. curly's eye, eyes. watching you. you crawl out of his throat and find him where you bolted him into the ship, half machine, surrounded by tvs

you go to the tv, watch a cartoon. it's mother goose's birthday. you grab the cake and pull out a slice of curly's leg. he'll thank you one day. you twist the knobs until the cake goes down a treat, until he can't spit it back up. he'll thank you one day

there's flesh in the ship and it's beating, bleating, horses like fetuses in the warmth. the blob blinks filmy eyes out at you and screams

polle's talking to you now. backdrop of the cargo hold. backdrop of the skyscreen, set to night. poor you, polle coos in false sympathy, caged and unbelieved

i tried my best! jimmy argues, me and curly both did. but curly's the better man

why are you still so concerned with him?

jimmy carries curly to the utility room. puts him in the pod. closes the door

we're curly again, watching our old friend through the glass

i wanted to help you, but all i did was hurt you. but you're safe now. no one can harm you now. together we can fix anything, right? we fixed it. i.... i fixed it

jimmy walks out of sight. you hear a gunshot. a moment of panic, blind- did he forget? did he leave you here, trapped, alone-

and the cyro kicks in, blue and cool, as the credits roll through your vision

TL;DR RECAPPING

mouthwashing is about a cargo ship crew stuck in space after their ship was purposefully crashed by one of their own. you take turns playing the game 'before the crash' as curly, the official captain, and playing 'after the crash' as jimmy, the co-pilot and unofficial captain once curly is severely injured by the crash. other characters are anya, the ship's nurse, swansea, the ship's mechanic, daisuke, swansea's intern, and polle, the ship's mascot who is only alive in some nightmares

throughout the game you learn that, while he's convinced the others it was curly, jimmy crashed the ship in a fit of desperation after learning that anya- whom he assaulted- was pregnant. the child was evidence he wouldnt be able to hide when they reached their destination, so... why not crash the ship and doom everyone!

the game gets its name from the fact that the only thing the crew was hauling turns out to be mouthwashing, which swansea uses to get drunk, but otherwise isnt very helpful. many good symbolic/metaphorical implications contained in it though!

by the end of the game, all characters end up dead, save for curly. anya commits suicide with pills, swansea mercy kills daisuke after jimmy goaded him into doing something stupid that got him seriously injured, swansea gets shot when going after jimmy, and jimmy kills himself with gunshot after putting curly in a cyropod. it's possible curly wont survive too, but he's the only crew member with a chance at it

the game has Many themes and concepts and such but some of the most important to take away are:

responsibility and complicity. jimmy and curly are the two player characters for a reason; they're parallels to each other. jimmy is the primary/direct cause for most of what goes wrong, but he wouldn't have been able to do everything he did if curly had done his job and stopped him. curly's complicity in jimmy's crimes are what ultimately doom himself and the entire ship. jimmy does everything, curly does nothing, and they are both to blame

the rampant effects of misogyny, in the workplace and general, and how even in issues that are All about them, women are often excluded from their own narratives. mouthwashing is driven by the injustice anya faces at both jimmy and curly's hands, in how jimmy treats her and in how curly refuses to see what jimmy's done because He's An Old Friend, He Wouldn't Do That, Right? yet, despite this, anya is often strikingly absent from the story, especially in jimmy's hallucinations. he's willing to accept the blame, the responsibility for everything... but not anya. he begs forgiveness for wronging curly, but he never even thinks of it for anya. in a story so largely controlled by the mistreatment she faces and everything she tries to do to combat it, anya is constantly sidelined. this is purposeful. this is unreliable narrator at their finest

turning the blind eye eventually comes back to hurt everyone, especially the ones who looked away the hardest. curly does nothing to help anya, only to end up in a position where he's the one entirely at jimmy's violent mercy. see the previously mentioned points

and there is So Much More but those are some base points u can carry away with u whether u read the full debrief or just the tldr :) hope you enjoyed . i am mentally well (lying)

#the cryptid speaks #meri #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing #gods that was so much . no regrets . i need to rewatch mouthwashing #if anyone gets interested in Seeing the playthrough from his reading i recommend markiplier's #and again . any questions . please ask i love to answer :]#answers may be slow considering i did just prioritize this over my actual hw so mind the delays but still #i WILL get to them

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pathologicalreid · 6 months ago

Text

a love song for lady earth | s.r.

in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.

“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.

Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.

Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.

Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.

Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.

He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.

At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”

He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.

Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.

The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.

His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”

He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.

A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.

Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.

His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.

He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.

He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

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jinwoosbabyboo · 4 months ago

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𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛

LADS Men and a cramp simulator. This is how I imagine they would handle it.

A/N: I’ve gotten many requests for a cramp simulator so this is for those who wanna torture their man hehe

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Before]

Of course he is berating you with questions. Where did you get this? why do you want him to do this? Will this have long lasting effects?

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad so he’s having a hard time understanding why you want to cause him immense pain

Agrees anyway because he will always do whatever you want him to do

[During]

This would be one of the rare moments you see Zayne break his calm cool and collected composure

“Are you sure you’re not having a heart attack every month?” He’s leaning on any surface he can find long after you’ve taken the simulator off of him

I imagine he has a high pain tolerance, but this was too much “You can turn it off now” you turn it up. “My love please turn it off” red in the face sweating and hands are shaking

[After]

You gave him your heating pad to help with the lingering pain “I was unaware of what you were dealing with every month”

Prepare to be pampered every time you get your period now; he's stocking up all your feminine products, tea, heating pads, painkillers, and your favorite foods and snacks

Monitors your heart closely during the week because he's worried you might have a heart attack

Brings up the option of medical grade painkillers, but immediately changes his mind because he doesn’t want you getting addicted

“Next time you start you period just take the week off” insists you stay home and let him take care of you, bringing you tea and rubbing your stomach

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Before]

Overconfident to start — he can sense when you’re not feeling well, but can’t sense your cramp pain he just knows you’re not okay

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad, but "there’s no way they’re that bad" he has a high pain tolerance so “this will be a piece of cake turn it up”

[During]

Trying to hide the grimace on his face when he feels the first ‘cramp’ “Keep going?” “Yea this is nothing” he’s already sweating

Screaming, whining, crying and damn near throwing up “I’m dying there’s no way im not dying I see the light” “You’re not dying” “YES I AM”

“This is what you go through? No wonder you’re so mean” “I was being nice this is what I actually feel” you turn it up and he throws himself on the floor “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY TURN IT OFF PLEASE” gasping for air as he rolls around

[After]

Leaves you little snacks and gifts outside the door whenever you get your period now

Has never asked “Is it really that bad?” again because he knows the answer now; gets pains just thinking about it

Had to go lay down and take a nap after you took the simulator off of him.

Stocks up on heating pads and rubs your stomach and back religiously now

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Before]

Isn’t nervous, but also isn't excited “I’m ready”

Is only doing this because you promised him hotpot afterwards

“You’re no stranger to pain” “Im not a masochist” “Debatable”

[During]

The pain was so bad that it pissed him off “This is complete bullshit” “I’m not interested in continuing this turn it off please”

When you turn it up so show him what you actually experience he’s kneeling at your feet begging you to turn it off “My Star please I understand please end this”

Accidentally grips whatever is near him so hard he breaks it

sweating, red in the face with tears in his eyes

[After]

Nurse Xavier now

Whenever you get your period he’s making you lay down and take it easy all week.

Is helping you in and out of bed

Leaves either a tampon or fresh underwear with a pad already lined in it on the counter for you when you get out of the shower

Loves these weeks now because he can nap with you as much as he wants

Carries you everywhere “Xav I promise I can walk” “With cramps as horrendous as those? You really are superwoman”

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Before]

Nonchalant as always has almost a bored expression

“I still feel pain Princess, but I'll indulge you”

You tell him to sit down, but he opts to stand

"You shot and stabbed me before I can handle this" "I scratched you" "You stabbed me clear through the chest" "What?" "What."

[During]

Panting and red in the face does his best to try and handle the pain

Breathing heavily and doubled over leaning against the nearest surface he can find

“Okay okay thats enough” brought him to knees once again “I thought you could handle pain?” “That does not mean I enjoy it”

Has to sit down for a while completely still like a statue after that

[After]

Already pampered you during your periods, but he’s upped it now

Literally tracks your cycle and makes sure he’s always nearby incase it comes early

Wants you to stay with him the entire time “I need to go to work Sylus” “No you don’t you need to rest”

Makes a nesting bed for you and is at your beckoned call

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urprettylildoe · 2 months ago

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𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁ℯ𝒹

♡ yandere football player x fem reader ♡ Every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him, and to everyone around the world he was considered the embodiment of perfection. But there's more to what meets the eye, and you're one of the only people who know that very well. ♡ word count: 1.9k words ♡ warnings: yandere/obsessive behaviour, dependency, toxic relationship, kidnapping, attempted drugging, very brief and implied self-harm, suggested nsfw

His team had won yet again.

Critics weren't just analysing the performance itself but one particular figure that always made his presence known; whether it was deliberate or natural.

Looks, money, charisma, talent; what characteristic didn't the renowned football star possess?

Blake's motivator was his love for things that kept him on his toes and sent a rush of excitement through his veins.

The constant chanting of his name from the crowds was like music to his ears. He waved and shot them a pretty smile adorned with dimples that would surely make magazine covers.

Cameras zoomed in on each of the team players as they walked out of the field. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he stared into the camera.

The world out there didn't know that it was reserved for one particular person, and they knew who they were.

A message.

I know you're watching.

♡

"And how do you feel about today's performance?" The lady smiled almost too brightly, holding the microphone up towards him.

"I think we gave it our all today and I couldn't have done without my team," he enthusiastically recited as if he hadn't been practising with his manager for the perfect PR response to the questions. Blake was a natural in front of the camera — he threw in some jokes and made sure to flash those pearly whites every now and then.

The interviewer chuckled, "Oh please, don't be so modest. You were amazing out there, Blake. Give yourself some credit, will ya?"

A few more minutes passed with them going back and forth before he was finally asked million dollar question:

"so, we're all dying to know, any relationship updates we should be aware of?"

For a split second, his flawless facade cracked and his smile faltered, his jaw ticking with something unpleasant. Then, almost as if nothing happened, his expression turned carefully neutral and he maintained a polite smile, "my personal life is just that, personal."

Translation: i'm not answering that. In any other situation, he'd have no problem saying it directly, but he'd rather not listen to his agent talking his ear off about it later.

But the woman obviously did not pick up on the implication and if she did, she didn't mention it. Instead, she leaned in and brushed her hand against his bicep at an attempt of subtle flirting, "Oh, come on. You're one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Surely there's someone special in your life?"

He feigned embarrassment rather than expressing his anger and scratched the back of his head, "you're really putting me on the spot here." He paused, then added, "i'm just focused on my career at the moment. And as they say, good things come to those who wait, right?"

His answer shut the interviewer down and the last line did have some truth to it. Patience is a virtue.

♡

Pushing the bathroom door open, his hands gripped one of the sinks and he took a moment to calm his nerves.

They don't know. They don't know. It's okay.

His gaze dropped to the scar marring his otherwise perfect skin in the mirror, right under his bottom lip. Yet, instead of frustration like his manager had expressed with utter disappointment, warmth he was all too familiar with fluttered in his chest.

This was no burden, but a gift from his favourite little songbird after one of her many tantrums of be let out of the golden cage. Though it is a hassle to calm her back down, he did cherish the mark imprinted on his skin.

Blake tutted, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised it further. It was fading; he'll need to fix that up soon enough.

He shrugged on a jacket and drove home in his sleek car, ready to finally relax. The day drained him of all his energy.

Or perhaps it didn't, because when he reached his home, all of the anger bubbled up to the surface. Patience was not a virtue, because his had reached its limit because of a certain dove.

♡

Tonight was the night.

The night where you would finally be free of the shackles that bound you to that horrible, horrible man.

Blake.

To his fans and the world, he's a passionate and talented athlete. To you? He's a monster. One that stripped you off everything you've known, one that kept you for his selfish desires, one that held a warped version of 'love' in his heart.

You wanted to flee. Not even tell the police, just run far, far away where he couldn't reach you, where you would be your own person and not some pretty ornament he'd come home to admire every day.

Sanity hanging by a thread, you slipped down the marble stairs in just your socks and cute pajamas. Any captive should have injuries and tattered clothes. Except, your captor wasn't normal. And while you didn't have any physical injuries, you were still hurt.

You were supposed to be asleep, if everything went according to his plan (which usually did). The opportunity was too good to pass up; he was leaving for a match for hours. When he had given you the pill with a fond smile, you returned it and made an act of swallowing, all while keeping it under your tongue. The doors were locked due to his paranoia so you couldn't escape through there. Not to mention your hands and feet were tied, so you spent time on those too.

Finally, the makeshift rope was ready. Hours of twisting bedsheets together finally paid off and now you were ready.

One look out the window and you were already nauseous. It was such a high drop and you weren't willing to die, not yet at least. The rope tumbled down till it nearly reached the bottom, only a few feet off the garden grounds.

In and out. Nothing is going to happen.

Wrapping your limbs around the clothing, your hands clenched around it. Your eyes closed and you let yourself slide. Breathing fresh air felt true bliss, like this was your first time.

When you reached the bottom, your knees trembled with the gravity of what's going on. The closest thing you let out to a relieved sigh was a choked sound out of your throat.

You were free. You. Were. Free.

No more punishments, no more suffering, no more of his constricting love, no more-

maniacal laughter rings through the air sharply, making you halt. No.

You'd recognise it anywhere, even if you didn't want to.

"Wow, I leave for a few hours and come back to this?" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye in amusement, though you caught a vein in his forehead throbbing. "You surprise me every time, baby. Though I gotta admit i'm a little...hurt."

Your heart stopped and you took a step back, whipping around to face him. Such beauty he had, but so undeserving of it. Your nails had dug blood out of your palms, making them dully ache however not as deep as his confessions of 'love' would pierce your heart.

He didn't have nothing in that chest but rotting flesh.

"Now, now, none of that." He grinned as he followed your steps with his longer, stronger legs and you could only pray that he showed mercy. "You really didn't think you'd get away, did you? You truly do underestimate the lengths I'd go for you.

I give you the most beautiful home, the finest foods — my love. And this is how you repay? By running away from me? From us?"

His voice progressively got louder with each word. You really pushed him to the limits.

"I-I'm sorry-"

Cutting you off, large hands shaky with barely concealed raged cluched either sides of your head, "shh, I know you are. But sorry isn't enough anymore."

It wasn't a normal, torturous kind of punishment — no, you wished it was. You wondered if falling from the window was a better fate than this.

His voice softened at your sniffles, almost as if he was comforting you, shielding from a danger that nothing seemed to poise but him. "Hey, hey, don't cry. C'mon, my dove. If you're good, I won't go too hard on you."

Cries spilled past your lips, begging him that you were sorry and that you weren't going to do it again.

And really, you were never going to. Not after what he did to you afterwards.

You were reduced to a small ball to shivers and hiccups underneath Blake on the soft, fluid-stained sheets. The pink sleepwear was discarded on the floor. Equally bare, his muscles from all the training were on display. He was now beaming affectionately as he watched your tuckered out expression.

This wasn't the first time you've been violated, obviously. But this time it felt worse, like the pain of reality came crashing down on you like a tsunami ten times harder than before. It didn't help that he kept on whispering sweet threats in your ear.

He had branded your skin roughly and taken you, only to cradle you gently with a lover's touch. The drug he had injected you with made you a willing participant in his game, made you ache with desire for the one being you wanted to hate.

You slurred like a broken record, unsure of what was even going on anymore, "m'sorry, I didn't mean to...hic"

"It's okay, it's okay" he sang softly, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes, "y'know punishing you hurts me more than it does you, but I had to do this, you were trying to leave me, sweet thing."

A small, hidden part of you still wanted to fight for your freedom, to save yourself.

"you're so silly, thinking anyone would believe you if you ran away." He cooed, peppering loving kisses all over your face.

You closed your eyes and weakly whimpered. They would believe you, they would. Wouldn't they?

"Sometimes, the thoughts become too much for that pretty little head, don't they? You can't possible take all of it at once. But that's why i'm here. To protect you from every bad thing in the world."

His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted his head down, pressing his lips against your forehead, "I'll give you the world. Just — promise not to leave me again"

The sentences tumbling out his mouth just made you feel even more horrible.

You were broken. You had tried to convince yourself otherwise, but it was all in vain. He had shattered you into pieces and rebuilt you to fit his preferences. If you looked into the mirror right now, you don't think you would recognise yourself.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren't cut out for the world, maybe there were dangerous things out to get you, maybe safety was in his arms.

"Rest, i'll take care of you"

You let your eyes droop shut. Yeah, that sounded about right. He'll take care of you.

Once you finally nestled against the comfort of his chest with tiny snores, was he finally able to celebrate another accomplishment. He can't remember the last time he didn't have something he wanted, even if his beautiful dove was putting up a fight against him.

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

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sierrale8ne · 1 month ago

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celibacy / paige bueckers x fem!reader PART OF THE $$$4U COLLECTION ‘ it’s been four months and two weeks and 36 hours and eight minutes since you been pleased ’

summary after finding out you ended your sexual arrangement with paige for work purposes, she takes it upon herself to show you how much she’s been missing you and how badly she’s been needing you. warnings paige is a hornball that can’t comprehend why you’d want to obtain from having sex, sexual content, packing, strap-on sex, strap-sucking, spitting, literal cum eating like… p is a freak. from lena i felt like bringing back some old pairings so this is p x that reporter i wrote about a minute ago ( in my main masterlist titled easy access ) this is nasty, i’m ovulating so there’s that.

Paige had been accustomed to the life that came with being a star athlete: wake up, practice, treatment, class, nap, lift, and if all of that was completed, the occasional media interview.

Today was one of those days.

Her practice jersey is damp against her body, the navy blue compression shirt underneath clinging to her arms as she answers question after question. Tournament seeding, last year, the draft next month. All of it is the same, just enough for her to know exactly what to say and when to say it.

She stands patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for the next question. And then it comes.

“Paige, is there any advice you’ve given your teammates— specifically Sarah and Jana— about how to handle the tournament now that they’re in it?”

Paige freezes.

It’s your voice, she’s known it well enough to be able to point it out in a crowd full of all other reporters. A voice she’s heard so many times that it became burnt into her brain— every tone, every shift.

You dig your way through to the front, and when Paige sees you— like really sees you for the first time in months— it’s the first time all day that her demeanor shifted. She’s always loved your work attire and how you prided yourself in looking your best. But today you’ve dressed down and she still thinks you look perfect. Low rise washed denim, New Balance sneakers on your feet, and a white shirt with some writing on the left shoulder that she can’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, can you ask that again? I zoned out for a minute.” Paige clears her throat. The other reporters laugh but you stay focused, it your first media availability with Paige. You knew better than to crack, especially now. So you repeat the question, poised as ever and honestly Paige is a little shocked. She thought if anything you’d be just as off your game as she was. But you weren’t.

She stutters, and it’s so small that you almost miss it, but she answers anyways. “Just to embrace the moment. Pressure is a privilege, and they came here to preform on the biggest stage—” Her eyes bore into your own, blue like large pools of cerulean. The same eyes that once made you give up everything, toss away your morals, and submit to her. “— and we all got total confidence in them. Hopefully that translates to them having total confidence in themselves.”

You nod, thinking about how generic her answer was and how your boss would probably have something to say back at the office. It seemed like she always did, but that’s what came with being an intern, you’ve learned.

Media availability ends, and you are very glad that Paige was the last to be interviewed because you can’t wait to get away from her fucking gaze. You cut the recording on your phone, shoving it in the back pocket of your jeans, followed by sticking your notepad and pen in your purse.

You follow suit with everyone else, turning towards the practice facility’s exit doors to head back to the office. Until your stopped, a hand to your lower back that send a rush to your core.

You’re reminded of the first time. The way you danced against her at Ted’s her hand on your back, bending you over as you twerked her jeans, the feeling of the zipper against your ass. How she took you home, made your legs shake and your toes curl, just to become even more vulnerable with you in bed hours later. You learned a lot about Paige that night.

You learned even more about yourself.

That no matter what, as long as she was around you’d never be able to resist her.

It’s exactly why you turn towards face her right now, you hands cautiously gripping your purse and the other raking through your hair.

“Look who finally came to see me.” Paige’s nails rake along your skin, dangerously drawing you closer and closer to her.

You feel your knees getting weak already. She smells surprisingly good considering she just got out of practice, she looks even better. But you can’t. “Stop.” You groan, reaching back to brush her hand off.

“I’m just checkin’ on you, you good? It’s been a while.” Paige says, her voice sultry and a bit cheeky. She’s priding herself on the fact that she still has you like this.

“Paige, we’re not doing this here. I’m at work.” It reminds you of what you said the last time you had her. MSG in New York, another day you were supposed to be focused on work that ended up with Paige’s hand in your pants.

She nods, pretending to understand but the look on her face lets you know she’s thinking about anything but. “Okay, then come over later.”

The blonde had a way of making you go speechless every time you saw her, but right now you were literally at a loss for words. You made it clear when you cut her off— Paige was a distraction— so for her to stand here, so hellbent on getting you alone, in a way she once had you, was ridiculous.

You scoff, looking around at the now filing out hallway. You drag her off, fingers digging into the bicep that’s so fucking big you nearly are taken aback by it. “I’m not having sex with you, P. It’s done, you know that.”

“You’re tellin’ me whoever else you’re sleeping with makes it feel as good as me? Y’know that’s bullshit, ma.” She goes on, and you take a step back for your own sanity. A response bats around in your brain, you shouldn’t tell her the truth, she would get too confident. Too cocky. You didn’t need that.

It came out anyway, like word vomit. “I’m fucking celibate, Paige, there isn’t anyone else.” You grit through your teeth.

Paige’s eyes nearly glow and her mouth curls up into his God awful smirk that you’d want to slap off if she wasn’t so damn sexy. “You? You’re playin’.”

“I’m not. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” You mutter, walking across the hallway to the elevators plans sweating as you do what you know best. Work.

Your night ends with a much needed bath, soaking in the hot tub to soothe yourself of all the stress piled up throughout the day.

And the tension that only Paige Bueckers could give you.

She was good, you had to give her that. And what made it worse was that it was effortless. Paige didn’t have to say too much, or even touch you. All she needed was one moment, one instance where your demeanor shifts and your strength cracks and all of a sudden you’re her’s again.

You couldn’t shake your mind of her even if you tried.

And it made your core fucking throb.

When you finally do exit the bath— legs a bit sore from the attention you had given yourself between your legs— you cater to yourself. Legs smooth, and body smelling of sweet vanilla cashmere. You throw on some cute pajamas, matching silk with a top that fits you loosely. The plan is to get in bed, until you hear a knock at the door.

You trail to the door, manicured feet padding against the hardwood.

And then you open it.

And there she is.

At first, it’s like your mind is playing tricks on you. Because it’s been forever, and no one in their right mind would show up to their old fuck buddy’s apartment at this hour. Paige seems to be the exception.

She wears these dark grey Essentials sweatpants, slightly dirty and scuffed on the hems. They sag just enough for you to see a small edge of her Nike Pro’s when she lifts her arm over her head and her fingers run through her hair. Her hoodie matches, and that makes your knees buckle. The dark fabric makes her skin and hair look even brighter.

“Why are you here?” You sigh before she even gets a chance to speak. Being mean about it seems to be the only way you can think of to get her out. It’s for your own sanity anyway. You’ve never been able to rid her off for as long as you and Paige have known each other.

Obviously, you don’t know Paige.

Because she finds that so fucking attractive.

Paige bites her lip, trailing her eyes to your shoulder where the strap of your shirt has fallen. “I’m still on this celibacy thing. Like, are you sure? And why the hell would you want to do that?”

You have to laugh, because it’s hysterical that your vow to stay away from sex had UConn’s star player unable to think straight.

“Paige, I—”

“Seriously, we’re not having sex anymore because of what? Did I do something wrong? Am not doin’ it right, you gotta tell me.” Paige is babbling, and it makes you so embarrassed that you tug her inside the apartment before your neighbors can hear about it.

It’s unfathomable to you. “I didn’t think it was that hard for you to find someone else to sleep with, Paige.”

“It’s not! But you cut me off, and the first time I see you again you’re talkin’ bout some celibate. So, naturally I’m curious.” Paige attempts to explain, hands moving freely in the air as she talks and you stare at them the entire time. Her knuckles slightly red from the cold, veins adorning the back of her hand, and her long ass fingers. It was a taunt. As soon as you made it clear that you weren’t going, here she was. Testing you.

You take a step back, as if the distance would give you a clear head. “You’re a distraction.”

“What?”

“A distraction.” You speak up. “I can’t do my job with you texting me and telling me all the ways you want me in bed. I literally couldn’t focus.” You explain, and now that it’s said out loud you feel ridiculous.

Paige Bueckers was so good at fucking you, that it made it hard for you to do your job.

The blonde lets out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms down on your counter and leaning against it.

“You happy now?” You respond, sighing loudly.

“Ma—”

“No.” You cut her off quick. This is exactly how it went last time. And this time you had half a mind to know better.

“Let me get you there, baby. No distractions this time, I swear.” She murmurs, voice low and almost strained— hours of practice for the tournament to blame. “No way you don’t want it, ma, just please.”

Paige is walking towards you now, hands reaching for your hips and you let her. You actually don’t even think about moving. You can smell her cologne, warm and woodsy, sticking to the fabric of her clothes. Her hands trail off you to the hem of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head.

Your eyes trail to the ground it falls on almost immediately, because Paige’s choice of a thin tank top and no bra leaves very little to your imagination.

“What do you want, ma?”

A whimper flies from your lips as her hand grips your chin, fixing you to look at her. Your hand grips her shirt for leverage, clinging to what’s left of your morals.

That’s when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you.

“Hmm? What do you want?” Paige repeats, dragging your hand down her abdomen until it rests at her sweatpants. And you feel it. Her sweats were baggy enough to conceal it, but as soon as you feel the length in your palm it’s clear that Paige was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about her in the bath. “You want it? ‘Cause y’know I’m always ready to give it to you.”

“I want it.” You whine, snaking a hand up to her neck, tugging her close to you.

Her breath fans your lips, a smile gracing her face that doesn’t even try to hide. “Yeah? Break this li’l streak you got goin on?” Her hand tugs your shirt strap lower down your arm, and the second it’s reached the furthest it could go you’re slotting your lips with hers.

She tastes like everything you’ve remembered her to be, minty but still sweet. Her lips are soft, vaseline smeared on them and transferring to your chin. You continue palming the strap through her sweats, and Paige groans like it’s an extension of herself.

“Want you.” You moan.

“I know. I got it, baby. I gotchu.”

Paige’s strap sits on your tongue as you greet it with tiny kitten licks. You should’ve known that Paige would’ve made your work for it after leaving her to dry for months. Which truly wasn’t your intention. Paige was attractive, women wanted her, and you expected her to get it elsewhere.

Obviously not.

Her back is flush to your couch, shirt hiked up to give you a view of her hardened nipples and perfect fucking abs. You grip the base, spit trailing down the length that you take into your mouth.

“Mhmm, put that fuckin’ mouth to work, baby. Lookin’ so sexy f’me.” She hums, pushing your still slightly damp hair out of your face.

You plant your hands to her thighs, taking the strap deeper just to prove that you can. A part of you thinks you enjoy showing out for Paige like this again, doing what she wanted when she wanted.

Her eyes flutter shut like she can feel your mouth, the warmth of your tongue running on the underside of her cock— and if she closes her eyes hard enough, she probably could. But the vibration is good enough.

“Four months. Four and a half fuckin’ months.” Paige says to herself between breaths.

You pull back to breathe, saliva connecting your lip to the tip. You’re completely mesmerized by her, you vulnerable she looks even when you’re the one on your knees with her cock in your mouth. You spit on it again, sucking it back into your mouth before taking the strap in again. You’re sure that Paige’s eyes roll into her head.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” She grunts, hips moving forward further towards you. “Gonna paint your face, I swear.”

Paige’s words send a throb to your cunt. You can almost picture it— her groans and slack jaw as she comes. You draw your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit that’s still covered by your pj’s. The stimulation makes you whine.

“That shit turns you on, ma? Just know you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Paige hums to herself. She decides to reach for your hair, tugging you up and off of her strap until you’re hovering over her.

Saliva dangles from your lip, and in her obvious lust, Paige sticks her tongue out. You’re left speechless. Paige was a freak, you knew that much, but she’s chasing after your fucking spit like she’s thirsty for it. Like she was dying in the desert and you were the only one to solve her thirst.

She almost slurps it up, the noise so vulgar that you moan in her face. Paige chases after your mouth, locking lips with you in a deep kiss. Your hips grind against the strap, paying no mind to the mess it’s going to create on your shorts.

“Need it inside me, P.” You plead.

“Celibate my fucking ass.” She groans against you, using her strength to push you to the other end of the couch. Her hands dig into your hips, clawing at your shorts so hard that you’re sure she’s going to rip them off of you.

You’ve never seen Paige like this, this needy, this horny. She dragged your mouth onto her cock with a fervor that was animalistic. Then now, her teeth nipping at your own lips so hard she might draw blood.

It’s hot.

It makes you upset that you held out on her for this long.

Paige’s hands slip to your shoulders, pushing the other strap down your arm and putting your tits on display for her. She breaks the kiss, lips trailing down your jaw, neck, and chest before finally reaching your nipple.

“Paige!” You moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as she pulls your shorts off next.

“No crotchless this time?” She jokes, making you think back to the last time she fucked you stupid. It gets her off, watching how desperate you are for her to make you come.

“I need you to fuck me,” You whine desperately, hand fisting a handful of Paige’s perfect blonde hair. “Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against the unbelievably long strap, almost as if they had a mind of their own.

“I like it when you beg.”

“I know.” You tug your black panties to the side. Paige smirks at how soaked you are, the way your slick drips through your folds. “Want your cock, P. Please.”

With your help in spreading your legs Paige is tapping the tip against you. The wetness of your pussy filling her ears like the sound of music. Your mouth falls agape at the sudden pressure. and she takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with her own spit. A fat glob falling on your tongue and you swallow it almost immediately.

“Tell me you want it again.”

You sob, body aching in need. “I want it, I want it, Paige.”

Without hesitation, the athlete thrusts forward, burying all eight inches balls deep inside you. It’s so foreign, months of being away from her to blame. A collective gasp escapes both of your mouths. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while her mouth formed the perfect ‘O’. Paige eyes you like a piece of meat before connecting your lips again in a heated frenzy. Your back arched into Paige’s as she gripped your hips and began roughly pounding into your cunt.

“You hear her? Just screamin’ for this dick, baby.” Paige hums, her words sending a rush of more arousal out of you. A mixture of pleasure and ecstasy spread across your features as Paige established a fast and relentless pace. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.”

“Baby—”

She breaks the kiss. “Imma distraction, but you can’t get off without me. Can’t make this pussy cum the way I do.” The couch practically groans in protest, its durability tested as Paige’s grunts reverberated against your lips. The room filled with the intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a sensual symphony that echoed off the walls.

You watch Paige tuck her shirt in her mouth, giving her a perfect view of not only where she digs you out, but your tits that bounce in her face.

She’s fucking the shit out of you. And that alone is enough to draw her close to that climax.

“Y-you— Paige, baby. You’re fuckin’ deep, fuckkkk!” Your eyes were tightly shut, face contorted in pure bliss as you cling to the blonde with every fiber of your being. Your legs wrapped around Paige’s thighs, ensuring that she couldn’t escape your embrace. “F-fuck! P!” You cry out.

“Fuck you stupid, yeah? Put yo’ ass to sleep. Make it feel so fucking good, huh?” She roughly pushed the fabric of your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped away, leaving you fully exposed. “Cover me in it, cum on me, ma.”

You want her closer, deeper, anything. So you wrap your arms around her neck, tugging the blonde so close that your forehead touches hers. She keeps thrusting, seemingly noticing that you needed more.

“I know you’re close.” You murmur, trying your hardest to keep your eyes focused on her. “Paige, oh my Goddddd—”

“Y—shit.” Paige’s legs tremble, and you notice the slight falter in her rhythm. “Fuck, you first.” She lets out a groan, followed by a chase of your lips. It’s soft, way softer than how she fucks you.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming— I’m gonna cum, baby.” You babble over and over, your resolve fleeting your body as your orgasm creeps up on you. Paige lets out a high pitched gasp, her face flushed with overwhelming pleasure.

She tried to hold back, to maintain her composure, but failed miserably. A moan of pure bliss escaped her lips as she thrusts once more, practically balls deep into you as she comes. You let out a moan yourself as you feel the warmth taking over your body.

Paige doesn’t pull out, only pulling back enough to swipe her fingers over the ring of come that you’ve left behind. She brings her fingertips to her mouth, riding them out your taste.

“You left me out to fucking dry for four damn months?” Paige asks, her breathing labored from the exertion. She brings her hand down to your cunt, clit completely swollen. Almost desperate. “Left me without this shit for too long, ma.” She mumbles around her hand yet again.

She’s cleaning you up with her fingers, every bit of your release finding her tongue in almost desperate sweeps. You whine at the sensitivity, but let her.

Because it’s Paige, and you can’t fucking resist.

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harrysfolklore · 10 months ago

Text

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

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satellite-evans · 2 months ago

Text

all I need

Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: Lando gets furiuos when you get fined for swearing after your crash.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: fluff, swearing, injuries, angry lando

Request : Hi could I please request a lando x reader fic where the reader is a driver and she gets in a big crash and the team radio is like asking if she is okay and shes like answers after a bit and is in pain because she just CRASHED and then she accidentally swears on radio and she gets fined and the media is going crazy and like lando is just being a good protective boyfriend and is defending her in interviews and stuff? Thanks!! xoxo - anon 🍟

A/N:

Hi love, thank you so much for sending in a request and trusting me enough to write your idea!! I hope I did it justice xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

One moment, everything is fine—you’re fighting for position, pushing the car to its absolute limit, heart pounding with adrenaline as you navigate the treacherous corners. The next, it all goes horribly wrong.

The rear tires lose grip. A sharp twitch, then a full spin. Time slows, but your mind races. Your hands react on instinct, desperately trying to correct, but it’s too late. The world outside the cockpit blurs in a sickening whirl of colors—track, barriers, sky. Then nothing but gut-wrenching weightlessness as the car lifts off the ground.

The impact is catastrophic. Metal shrieks against metal, carbon fiber shatters like glass. The force slams through your body, rattling bones, squeezing air from your lungs. Pain flares—sharp, immediate—radiating from your ribs, your shoulders, your skull as the cockpit jolts to a brutal stop. Static crackles in your helmet.

For a moment, everything is eerily still. Your pulse roars in your ears, drowning out the stunned gasps from the crowd, the commentary scrambling to make sense of what just happened. Your breath is ragged, shallow. The world tilts nauseatingly around you.

Then, the radio buzzes to life.

"Y/N, Y/N, are you okay?!" David's voice is urgent, bordering on frantic. There’s a tightness to it you’ve never heard before, and that alone terrifies you more than the crash itself.

You try to respond, but pain flares when you shift. A groan escapes before you can stop it. Your fingers fumble for the radio button, and when you finally manage to press it, your voice comes out weak, breathless.

"Fuck—yeah, I think so." A cough, a wince. "That hurt."

Across the track, in his car, Lando watches it all unfold in real-time. His stomach drops, breath catching as he sees your car crumple against the barriers. His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, heart hammering painfully against his ribs. The images flash across the big screens, slow-motion replays dissecting the crash from every angle. He can’t tear his eyes away.

Is she okay? Is she responding?!" His voice is laced with panic, the desperation evident.

His race engineer hesitates. "We're waiting on confirmation, Lando. Focus on the race."

But how the hell is he supposed to do that? The car, the track, the championship—all of it fades. Right now, none of it matters except you.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. "Please—can you keep me updated? I need to know if she's okay." His voice wavers just slightly, the emotion threatening to spill over.

A pause. Then, softer, "We will, Lando. Just focus for now."

He exhales sharply, forcing himself to keep driving, but his eyes keep flicking to the screens around the circuit, searching for any sign of movement from you. His heart pounds as he waits—praying to hear your voice again.

A beat of silence stretches after your message. Then, Race Control’s voice cuts through.

"Y/N, reminder that all radio transmissions are broadcasted live. Watch the language."

Despite everything, a strained, breathy laugh escapes you. "Yeah, yeah, noted. Ow."

The medical car is already pulling up, orange lights flashing, marshals swarming the wreckage. You can hear them shouting, their voices urgent but professional. Someone taps on the side of your cockpit, checking for a response. Your fingers twitch, slow and uncoordinated, but you give them a thumbs-up.

The crowd, stunned into silence, exhales as one. The commentators try to fill the dead air with reassurances, but the tension is thick. On social media, the crash is already going viral—clips looping endlessly, speculation running rampant.

The straps of your harness dig into your bruised shoulders as the adrenaline begins to wear off, replaced by a dull, spreading ache that makes every breath feel like a struggle. The world around you is a cacophony of noise—sirens wailing, the frantic chatter of the marshals, the dull roar of the crowd beyond the barriers—but it all feels distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears.

"Try not to move too much," one of the medical staff instructs gently, his gloved hands already working to unbuckle you from the mangled remains of your car. "Can you feel everything?"

You give a small, shaky nod. "Yeah," you breathe, wincing as you shift slightly. "Just sore. Really sore."

The relief on his face is immediate, but the tension in the air remains. They move carefully, extracting you from the cockpit as gingerly as possible. As soon as you're free, your knees threaten to buckle, but strong arms catch you before you hit the ground.

"You’re alright, we’ve got you," another voice reassures, steadying you as they guide you toward the waiting medical car. The flash of cameras in the distance, the low hum of anxious murmurs from the pit lane—it all feels surreal.

The moment the checkered flag waves, Lando doesn’t care about anything else. Not the debrief, not the podium celebrations—none of it matters. His car screeches to a halt in parc fermé, barely lined up properly, but he’s already halfway out before the engine even fully shuts down. His hands rip off his steering wheel, then his helmet, tossing it aside as he breaks into a full sprint toward the medical center.

His lungs burn, but he doesn’t slow down. The only thing driving him forward is the sheer panic gripping his chest. His mind replays the crash on an agonizing loop—the way your car crumpled, how long it took for you to respond, the thought of losing you was eating him alive. He pushes past team personnel, ignoring their calls, shoving the medical center doors open with enough force to make them slam against the walls.

"Where is she?" His voice is sharp, almost desperate.

A nurse barely has time to react before he spots you. Sitting on the edge of the examination bed, bruised and battered, your race suit scuffed with streaks of dirt and dried blood. Your arm is wrapped around your ribs, and there’s a gash just below your glove, crimson seeping through the fabric. Your right knee is swollen, and every inhale looks like it stings.

But you’re alive.

Lando exhales a shuddering breath, his entire body sagging with relief. He crosses the room in seconds, reaching you like you might disappear if he doesn’t move fast enough. Without hesitation, he takes your hand, gripping it tightly like an anchor. His fingers ghost over your bruised knuckles, his touch impossibly gentle.

"Jesus, Y/N…" His voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of the fear still clinging to him.

You manage a small, tired smile despite the pain. "I’m fine. Trust me, it’s not as bad as it looks."

His jaw clenches, eyes scanning you like he doesn’t quite believe you. "Not as bad as it looks? You scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again. Ever."

The intensity of his words makes your chest tighten—not just from the bruises, but from the raw emotion behind them. You squeeze his hand, grounding him.

Later, after the doctors clear you—bruised ribs, mild concussion, but nothing broken—you limp out of the medical center, Lando’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. Every step sends a dull ache through your body, but at least you’re standing.

David intercepts you, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "So, uh… don’t shoot the messenger, but you’re getting a fine for the team radio."

You blink. "You’re kidding, right?"

Before David can even answer, Lando scoffs, disbelief flashing across his face. "She just survived a high-speed crash, and they’re fining her for swearing? Seriously?"

David sighs, handing over the paperwork with an apologetic shrug. "Yeah… FIA wasn’t too happy. Regulations and all."

You stare at the notice for a beat before letting out a tired, incredulous laugh. "Yeah, okay. Next time I crash at 200 mph, I’ll be sure to say ‘gosh darn it’ instead."

Lando shakes his head, jaw tight with frustration. "Unbelievable."

But instead of dwelling on it, he just pulls you in closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The warmth of his embrace eases some of the lingering tension in your body. "Don’t worry about it, love. If they want to fine you for being human, let them. You’re still the toughest person I know."

You smile, leaning into him, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. Because at the end of the day, a fine means nothing when you still have Lando by your side.

And, as expected, the media goes absolutely wild.

"Formula 1 Driver Y/N Y/L/N Fined After Shocking Radio Message Post-Crash!"

"Did Y/N Deserve Her FIA Penalty? Fans Debate Over Radio Outburst!"

"Y/N’s Crash Sparks Controversy: Was the Fine Justified?"

The headlines flood every social platform within minutes. Slow-motion replays of the crash loop endlessly on TV screens, side-by-side with grainy images of you wincing as you climbed out of the wreckage. Every angle is analyzed, every expression dissected.

Your post-race hospital visit is barely over when reporters start circling like vultures, bombarding you with questions before you even have the strength to face them, but Lando was having none of it.

Seated in front of the media, still in his race suit, Lando’s jaw is tight, hands clenched on the table as microphones are shoved toward him.

"Lando, there's been a lot of discussion about Y/N’s penalty for language over the team radio. Do you think the FIA was justified in issuing the fine?"

He scoffs, jaw tightening. "Are we seriously focusing on a fine when she just survived a massive crash?" His voice is sharp, edged with barely restrained anger. "She was in pain. She was shaken up. And she swore—who wouldn’t? It's ridiculous."

The journalists shift uncomfortably, but another one presses on. "Rules are rules, though. FIA has strict guidelines about profanity on public transmissions. Do you think it sets a bad precedent if they don’t enforce them?"

Lando lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, if your first thought after seeing a crash like that is to talk about a penalty, maybe rethink your priorities."

Another journalist jumps in. "But don’t you think it’s important to maintain professionalism on the radio? A lot of young fans look up to drivers."

Lando rolls his eyes. "Right, because what’s really damaging to young fans isn’t the fact that someone just had a life-threatening accident, but the fact that she said ‘fuck’ while trying to breathe properly again." He leans forward, voice lower but no less cutting. "If we’re talking role models, maybe start by making sure the sport actually supports its drivers instead of fining them for reacting like a human being."

His words are already making waves, clips spreading across social media.

And while you’re still exhausted, still aching from the crash, there’s something about seeing him so openly, fiercely in your corner that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Even after the official interviews, the media frenzy doesn’t stop. Paparazzi crowd outside the paddock, desperate for a statement. Team members act as buffers, but there’s only so much they can do.

As you slowly make your way out of the motorhome, Lando’s arm firmly around your waist, cameras flash, voices overlapping as reporters shout over each other.

"Y/N, do you think the FIA’s decision was fair?"

"Do you regret your words on the radio?"

"Lando, how did it feel watching the crash happen live?"

He tenses beside you. "How do you think it felt?" His voice is sharp, protective. "I watched someone I love crash at full speed. So no, I don’t really give a damn about some radio penalty right now."

You squeeze his hand in silent gratitude. He doesn’t have to be this involved, but he is. Always.

Another journalist turns to you, voice softer but no less intrusive. "Y/N, how are you feeling after the accident?"

You exhale, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the lingering pain. "Sore, obviously. But I’m okay."

"Will you be racing in the next Grand Prix?"

Lando answers before you can. "She’s focusing on recovery first. That’s the priority."

It’s not a direct confirmation, but it’s enough to hold off the speculation—at least for now.

The chaos of the day finally starts to feel like a distant memory as you curl up on the couch in Lando’s apartment. An ice pack rests gently on your ribs, offering some comfort against the bruising, but it’s Lando’s presence that truly calms you. His arm drapes protectively around you, pulling you in close like he never wants to let go, his warmth surrounding you in a way that makes you feel safe. His thumb moves in slow, soothing circles on your arm, the rhythm gentle and steady.

It’s such a contrast to the frantic energy of the day—the flashing cameras, the endless questions, the tension in the air—but now, in this moment, all of that feels like it belongs to another world. This is where you’re grounded.

You sigh, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the quietness of the room wrap around you like a soft blanket. But there’s something still heavy in the pit of your stomach, a lingering feeling that something was unsettled. You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes tracing the faint lines of worry still etched across his face, the tension that’s only now starting to ease from his features.

"You didn’t have to go that hard for me," you murmur, your voice soft, though you know the words don’t quite do justice to what you’re feeling. You had been overwhelmed by everything that happened, but he—he had been beside you every step of the way, his every move showing how deeply he cared.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly like the idea is completely foreign to him. "Of course I did. It’s bullshit," he mutters, his voice laced with frustration that hasn’t quite gone away. "You should be getting support, not fined for a stupid word." The words come out with a little more heat than he intends, but it’s the underlying softness in his voice, the way he’s speaking to you like he wants to protect you from the world’s unfairness, that makes your heart flutter.

You chuckle softly, a tired sound that makes his grip on you tighten just a fraction, like he’s afraid you might slip away. "Guess I owe you, huh?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Lando’s response is immediate—he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. His hands shift, cradling you with a tenderness that almost feels too gentle, like you’re something precious he’s afraid to break. "Just don’t scare me like that again," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, as though the thought of you being hurt again is more than he can bear. "And we’ll call it even."

You smile up at him, heart full of warmth for this man who always seems to put your well-being before his own. But you can’t promise him that. You know how the sport works, how unpredictable it is. You’ll never be able to give him that guarantee.

But there’s something you can promise him, something more important. You squeeze his hand, the simple act grounding you both in this moment. Your voice is steady as you look up into his eyes, locking your gaze with his. "No matter what happens," you say, the words firm but soft, a promise from the deepest part of you, "you’ll always have me. I’ll always have you."

His expression softens in a way that makes you think he’s heard every unspoken word in your statement, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you feels full—full of shared understanding, full of the love you have for each other, full of the promise that no matter the challenges, no matter the risks, you’ll face it all side by side.

For a long moment, Lando is quiet, his thumb still brushing over your skin in slow, absentminded strokes. But then his breath catches slightly, and when you glance up, you see it—the way his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. His jaw tenses as if he’s trying to hold it all back, but the emotion is too heavy, too raw.

"I thought I lost you," he admits, his voice breaking just enough to reveal the fear he’s been holding in. "When everything was happening, and I couldn’t reach you..." He trails off, shaking his head as if trying to push the memory away, but his grip on you tightens like he never wants to let go again. "I don’t know what I would’ve done if—"

"Hey," you interrupt softly, your hand moving to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the dampness on his cheek. "I’m here. I’m okay. And I’m not going anywhere."

That seems to break whatever wall he was trying to hold up. Lando lets out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping against yours as he closes his eyes. "I just... I can’t lose you," he confesses, the words raw and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache. "Not you."

You press a soft kiss to his lips, hoping it conveys everything words can’t. "You won’t," you promise against his mouth, your voice unwavering. "I’m right here."

He nods slightly, like he’s trying to believe it, and when he pulls you into his arms again, it’s with a desperation that speaks to how close he felt to losing you. But in this moment, with his heart laid bare and your arms wrapped tightly around each other, there’s nothing else that matters.

Lando kisses you gently on the forehead, his lips lingering there for just a second longer. "That’s all I need," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Then, his arms pull you even closer, his warmth radiating through your bones.

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mimicmimikyuwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI

A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.

The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.

"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.

In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.

"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.

"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.

"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.

"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."

You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.

Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.

"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."

"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.

"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.

You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.

"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.

"Your ex is fucking annoying."

You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.

Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.

He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.

"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"

He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.

He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.

"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"

"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.

"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.

"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"

"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.

You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.

"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.

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slushnubwrites · 4 months ago

Note

idk just anything with a sub dae-ho pls i see barely any sub dae-ho 😔🙏

He is def a sub 😝😫

Smut Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388

NSFW: Smut/Sexual content, Sub Dae-HoxFem reader, Public Kinda?

————————————————

“f-fuck y/n” Dae-Ho whimpered attempting to not wake up other players around you. “Shhh be quiet baby people could hear you” you softly whispered as you quickened your pace on his dick.

It was lights out but neither you or Dae-Ho could sleep. So you got an idea while you both cuddled in the small bed covered by the light blanket. You knew he’d been wanting this since earlier but he was always too shy to ask thinking it was wrong.

He jolted at the pace signaling how close he was “You like that baby”? you asked him listening to his faint choppy breaths. “Y-yes” he whimpered a little too loud at your question.

“You need to be a little more quiet or do you want people to hear you be so whiny for me”? at your teasing question you felt his dick twitch and harden even more. “Oh you would”? you teased quickening your pace even more.

He only whimpered at your words feeling the knot in his stomach grow more. “Would you like it if people saw you moaning and whimpering my name begging to cum”? you teased him.

“S-stop” he whined embarrassed that you caught him. “What am I wrong”? you continued to mock him moving your finger to roll onto his tip with a slow pace.

He softly moaned at your action not responding to your question. You began to quicken the pace of your rolling finger causing him to grip your wrist. “Let go or I won’t let you cum” you demanded.

Quickly he let go allowing you to continue your movement on his dick. You go back to moving your hand up and down his dick faster than before. “You still haven’t answered my question” you whisper slowing your pace.

He whines at the feeling not wanting you to stop and too embarrassed to answer. You completely let go of his dick causing him to whimper “No please” you couldn’t see in the dark but you knew his eyes were teary begging for desperate release.

You wait a few seconds before suddenly gripping onto his dick starting your movements up again. “Answer me” you soft but harshly demand, he whimpers at your tone knowing he won’t cum unless he listens.

“N-no you’re not wr-wrong, fuck y/n pl-please” God he sounded so desperate and whiny under your control. “Good job baby” you whisper moving your finger back to his tip circling it faster.

His dick starts to twitch at the feeling, and he grips onto the mattress. He moans a little too loud but you don’t care anymore focused on your movements and his noises.

“You wanna cum”? you ask him knowing the answer. “Y-yes please, please” he answers breathlessly ready to cum into your hand. “Beg” you ordered him moving back to going up and down with your hand squeezing it just how he loved it.

He whimpered at your command embarrassed and turned on at the same time. “Pl-please please I need to cum” you go faster as you feel his dick start to twitch and his body starts to shake “more” you order. “ngh- fuck please please I need to cum y/n just for you please” at his desperate obedient words you finally allow him to let go “cum”.

His body jolts and shakes at your permission to cum “thank you thank you thank you y/n f-fuck” he repeats feeling the knot in his stomach snap. You keep going as him cum starts to drip down and you can feel it on your hands.

Once done you take out your cum covered hand and in the dark lean into his ear sucking his cum off your fingers. “You taste so good Dae-Ho” you whisper before licking his ear. You couldn’t see each other but you knew his cheeks were red.

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yoitsjay · 4 months ago

Note

Just curious if you could do this, but-

Pegging batboys headcanons? PLEASE???

I would literally sacrifice my first born for you if you make this happen.

*Twirls hair* Ily, bye!!

😘

I screamed (the s is silent)

"Can I shove my fake, thick cock in your ass baby? Please? God pleasepleaseplease-"

Pegging the batfam HC:

Bruce Wayne

He'd be unsure at first, I think. He had never been with a woman who not only was desperately horny 24/7 (I see you sluts), but was also kinky as hell.

This was new.

At first he'd say no, the idea was uncomfortable to him and you understood, you thanked him for thinking about it, then gave him a really good blow to soothe it over.

After that... he dived into the research.

It started with articles, about the safety and concerns with pegging, proper handling, and 'etiquette'.

Then he started watching videos when you weren't home, and he was alone.

He watched as men were reduced to nothing but whimpering, pleading messes under the relentless, or sensual assault of their lovers silicone cocks.

He got rock hard.

Then he brought it to you.

And within hours you had playboy billionaire philanthropist, begging and crying on his hands and knees, needing you to stop teasing and prepping and to just fuck him.

How could you say no?

Dick Grayson

"Yes"

It was his immediate answer. And honestly it kind of caught you off guard. You knew dick was a slut, but you didn't know he was this much of a slut.

He let you do all the prep you needed, he bought toys for himself, proper lube, etc, wanting it to be perfect.

When it finally happens you do a little roleplay, then he's yanking down your pants and watching the (surprisingly realistic) silicone spring free from your pants.

He's practically slobbering as he blows you, though you can't feel it, you have a vibrator inside of you for some mutual satisfaction. And he's getting off on the sound of your moans as he hollows his cheeks and pulls off with a lewd pop.

You have him bent over the couch within seconds, biting and sucking at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you pound into that plump ass of his.

He can only cry and beg for more.

Jason Todd

He didn't know what you meant at first.

Yeah he could be kinky but it hadn't been long since he had come back from the dead, he just got used to having you back in his arms, so sex was soft, loving. He didn't want to hurt you.

Then you explained what it was.

And his eyes go wide.

He loves you too much he can't say no.

Again, going through the prep.

Once it's time you slowly push in and his eyes fly wide.

Then he's fisting himself as he buries his face into your pillows, inhaling your scent as he rocks back and forth on the bed, trying to hide his moans, and the way his face flushed, not expecting this to feel so fucking good.

Then you start to hear little grunts, then moans, and he gradually gets louder as he gets closer, and closer.

And when he cums it's explosive, and you've reduced him into a whimpering, begging mess. "One more time- please- please-"

Tim Drake

He brought it up first. And it surprised you. You both sat together, did research, watched videos (and helped each other get off to those videos.)

You went shopping together and brought the proper supplies and asked important questions to forums with a lot more experience. And once you both felt that you were ready, it began.

Tim was loud. Louder than all of them. This little muscly twink was pushing his ass back against you with every thrust, throwing his head back, arching, moving into any position you wanted him in just so he could feel you deeper.

You got off on how loud he was being.

Tim, who was normally so focused, quiet, observant, was blissfully fucked out of his mind, drooling, crying out your name as he grasped and tugged on your arms, hair, hips, anything he could get his hands on...

He'd die happy like this, speared on your cock.

Damian Wayne

"No fucking way"

He wouldn't even let you explain what it was. At first he kind of kink shamed you, and you won't lie, it stung.

He noticed you went quiet after that, even when he made love to you, your moans were quieter, almost entirely just grunts or soft sighs, like he wasn't making you as aroused as he used too.

He apologized, figuring out quickly that it was the way he shut down your words so quickly. All you asked was for him to just research.

And research he did.

He was still unsure, but eventually you managed to talk him into it.

He couldn't deny by the end that he thought it was definitely diffrent... fun in a way.

You both agreed it wouldn't happen all the time, only when you really needed to add some spice to the bedroom, or when he found himself begging for it.

Now that boosted your ego.

And when he was under you? He was a lot like Jason, moaning, hiding his face in embrarssment, fisting himself to every thrust, his orgasm coming so fast his mind went blank.

Safe to say, the batboys love that thick silicone cock of yours.

Slut.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi

Batfam:

BW smut:

DG smut:

JT smut:

TD smut:

DW (aged up) smut:

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amiaclone · 4 months ago

Text

You asked I’ll write! Gender neutral reader if you don’t mind

Tw: cursing I guess? Squid game in general should be considered a trigger over all the murdering lmaoo

*In ho sighed for the what? Fifteenth time? He’s been counting it’s what he’s trying to focus on the other thing is well……*

*When he decided to participate in these games again it was to prove Gi hun a point and mess with him a bit so he joined his “team” which well….. they happened to be in*

You were apart of it a strong person filled with determination in debt to a lot of money…..honestly in ho was shocked with how much debt you were in I mean you seemed like someone who’d make it far in live would rule against the poor like he used to be…

But you weren’t you were *trash*

You were lower lower class you were nothing…..

Yet why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He had a wife who he fell out of love with before he even met you…..swore he’d never fall in love again after distancing himself with his family and starting the games…..

But you just had to be lucky star didn’t you?

You were “kind” and not in a pushover kind of way just….kind like kind that would not take shit from people but would help others in need….and didn’t hide your opinions from others that deserved it….

It was disgusting but…..In a good way? He wanted you not in a possessive way but in a way type of wanting to care for you and you care for him-

*He shook those thoughts off ugh. Why now? He’s usually so calm and collected…..at first he wouldn’t lie he was hoping you’d die in one of the earlier games but now….he isn’t so sure. Gi hun already has plans to take the guns and fight back he had a plan problem was…..you were apart of the main plan

He probably had to kill you it’s probably a good thing but…now he isn’t so sure he’s gotten along with you great and he has a tiny bit of hope that you even like him back so for you to find out he runs these games….he can’t risk it

You’ll find out anyway but he doesn’t wanna face you to your face he atleast wants to hide behind a mask atleast imagining what you’d say…..

Currently he’s trying to convince himself that these feelings aren’t real……maybe it’s just attraction? Of course you’re really good looking maybe it’s that!

“Uh In ho?”

*He turns around that voice dreaded him more then anything the voice he was ready to hear-*

“Are you okay In ho?”

It was Gi hun

*He unfortunately realised that after breaking out of his rare trance he blinked for a few seconds then nodded*

“What is it?”

*Gi hun shrugged* “Nothing you seemed out of it….” *In ho stared at the ground trying to seem calm but spoke in a bitter tone* “I’m fine…” *He let his eyes wander to you who was talking to he thinks Junhee the pregnant lady? Gi hun noticed and raised an eyebrow* “Maybe Y/n will cheer you up…..Hey y/n!”

*You raised an eyebrow nodding at Junhee before walking away up to the two men.*

“You guys need something?” *In ho sighed he’s been trying to avoid hearing your voice….and you in general.* “In ho seems nervous I thought you’d be better at calming him down…*

*As Gi hun left you leaned your back on the bars of the bed he was sitting on….he couldn’t even look at you.*

“So. What is it?” *You asked he didn’t look at you but he could tell you seemed concerned*

“……” “In ho?” “…….If somebody did something almost unforgivable in any way…..what would you do?” “……What?” *You were confused rightfully you knew he was like this but for the way he got was so….* “Just answer the question…..please.” “Well if we were close I’d….wanna know why. Depending on what they did it’s…..hard to say hey are you saying this cause you’re worried or something i understand i am too but…..don’t focus on the negative so much you know?” *As usual kind…..how could such a good human like you be in these games yet he knew…..He is the front man after all he decided to atleast “ask you” and bond maybe a bit before he has to let you go….*

“Yeah you’re right as logical as ever so why are……you in debt if you don’t mind answering?”

*He felt you rise up you stared squinting your eyes then smiling* “Damn didn’t expect anyone to ask me that….don’t think it’s important.”

*Oh he knows what it is why wouldn’t he a petty part of him felt betrayed some what you weren’t gonna tell him after how close you’ve gotten but he decided to keep his cool.*

“You don’t have to tell you i just asked since we might be leaving this place or if neither of us..make it.” *You groaned* “The pessimism again In ho? Jeez you could…..I’ll tell you though cause you do have a point.”

“Well i used to be pretty rich and well-“ *As you went into your story he already knew it but continued to listen you were rich worked in a high payed business workplace but like most work places favouritism is common. Which unfortunately lead to your downfall.* “Anyways one day I found out i was being underpayed a lot of money so I complained this and that and i got a warning complained again then got fired…..It was hard to find a job i didn’t pay the bills for a lot of things debt grew bigger and bigger then a man asked me to play a game one day and well…..here i am.” *Ah yes In ho nodded at your story he knew it all he was the person who called for you to be in the game….you were a wonderful person honestly what was he thinking you were too good for a game like this is something he of all people would never think he would say.* “Im sorry you don’t deserve to be here after all it’s not your fault you’re in debt…” *You shook your head* “Eh I didn’t have a good of a college degree anyway maybe if I studied more in college I wouldn’t be here but eh atleast i got to meet you?” *In ho sighed and he didn’t want to or realise it but he couldn’t help but let a small smile rise genuinely.* “I suppose it’s…..mutual.”

*You sighed smiling* “I can’t wait for tomorrow we’ll finally *maybe* get out of here right?” *He felt his heart stop for a second oh yeah…..that*

*He awkwardly cleared his throat* “Oh yeah I suppose this game will….end and we’ll probably never see each other again” *You snorted* “We can still talk, we can meet up together and talk and stuff it’s not like we need to forget each other…”

*”That’s right” In ho thought he needed to forget you maybe these feelings would go away….but the the thoughts came he didn’t want to but…..”I killed my brother damn it! I can do this I’ve talked to them for only a few days this is…”*

“In ho??” *He stared up at you instinctively like an animal almost he stopped himself and regained his composure.* “Jeez you seem tense maybe get some rest…” “No im…..just thinking….about all the bad decisions…..humans can make.” *You hmmd* “I suppose so humans can be evil if given the chance with such power.” *In ho nodded* “Have you ever thought of doing something regrettable?” *In ho wasn’t sure why he was asking these…..questions but maybe it was to see the inhuman side of them to make him disgusted in you? Maybe that’ll work.* “Well I’ll admit yeah…..I got bullied and when I found out there father had cancer i wanted to well bring it up tear them down….i think i was about 14.” *You didn’t seem shameful you seemed to regret it but not shamed it only made In ho admire you more as he hated it.* “So why didn’t you do anything?” *You laughed a bit* “I would of if it wasn’t for me asking my mom and telling her like i was about to do the best thing she got mad scolded me and told me a different way a better way to handle bullying……and I’ve used that advice since.”

*He quirked an eyebrow what would it be that he hasn’t heard ignore them stand up for yourself be the the bigger person?*

“Be better than them…..because bullies are the weakest of the weakest in society strategy they don’t want you knowing is you finding out you’re better then them.” *He knows that advice he’s never thought much of it but hearing it from you automatically makes him wanna know more…* “Well then your mom raised such a lovely person….you should be proud.” *You scoffed laughing a bit* “I made a lot of mistakes that i can’t even say thought of some weird stuff im glad i didn’t say or do anyways……yeah. We’re human everyone has made one bad mistake you’ll dwell on for the rest of your life my advice is well…..did you regret it?”

*In ho sighed smiling* “Thanks for the advice I’ll rest for a bit” *You got up smiling and leaving that’s it.* “Y/n you’ll always be in my memory….” *In ho didn’t know what to do with them maybe ask them to join him? No! That would be so idiotic they’d never agree….try to make them understand? Maybe let them go? Why doesn’t he want that…..he then smiled.* “I can’t wait for tomorrow y/n you’re so unpredictable maybe you could stay with me…..”

Anddddd a cliffhanger sorry if this is ooc i was halfasleep writing this 😭

#x reader #yandere #character #fanfiction #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game season 2 x reader #front man #front man x reader #yandere front man #In ho x reader #squid game in ho x reader #y/n

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