#except for what i'm p sure i posted about at the time

[vulpixelates]

i keep being reminded of abandoned ttrpg (mostly dnd) characters and i really need to go back and revamp some ijaowief

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[allstrangeandwonderful]

So I'm reading for an art history class, and Baudrillard is talking about the trends in colour usage from generation to generation (mostly in interior design, but there's definite spillover into fashion, architecture, etc.), and how every new colour movement is a direct rebellion against the previous one, like how the bright colours of the 60s/70s were a direct response to the austerity and seriousness of the WWII/postwar era, and how a shift back to organized, moralistic neutrals were a direct rejection of 60s/70s gaudiness, etc., and that all makes sense, people find their parent's style tacky, sure

But he goes on to observe how we've now been stuck in a lull of pasty tones and naturalistic finishes for some time, and I'm thinking yes, he's so right, but that's weird, because its been hanging around for so long, like what is it rebelling against anymore? What is it answering to? Well all I had to do was be patient because lo and behold, Baudrillard provides the following sentence, which caused me to completely wig out:

"...except of course, for the spheres of advertising and commerce, where colour's power to corrupt enjoys full rein"

And I'm like ooohhhhHHHHHH, so this colourless minimalist wasteland of a design principle:

Is maybe hanging on so stubbornly because this corporate hellscape:

is assaulting all of our eyes, inside and outside of our homes, every waking second, and is tainting the very concept of colour into something we can't relax around in our living spaces.

EDIT: The reading was The System of Objects by Jean Baudrillard, 1996 Ed., Part A, Section II, Subheading "Atmospheric Values: Colour" (p. 30-36 in my copy). Even if this was a passionate spur-of-the-moment post, omitting this was pretty silly; my bad.

EDIT 2: I was trying to be chill and leave this one alone, cuz I know most people in the notes are talking to themselves and their followers and not actually me, but 11,000 notes in it's starting to get to me - yes, I am aware that decreased homeownerhship/increased renting/landlord specials/hyperfocus on resale values, are all very direct causes of this too. I totally agree. For me, those were the obvious answers; I think we all get why the owning class is serving this to us. My epiphany moment was about understanding the flip side, the psychology of the consumers who keep accepting it, and even seem to enjoy it. That's what I couldn't understand before, but now I suddenly do. (And for those of you saying such people don't exist, no one actually wants to live without colour - check the notes, bb, they're everywhere. Not everyone has the same brain as you. We all deal with the horrors of capitalism differently.)

[lxnarphase]

I-T G-I-R-L ᯓ★

━━ ❝ THIS P★SSY SOMETHING ALL OVER THE WORLD ❞

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : blk!fem!reader + g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the new girl has caught his attention...and he really, really likes what he sees.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : i want to try something a little different where i do little drabbles and pieces similar to 'chef kiss, she's a treat' except they'll be longer !! ❤︎ the list will be updated with links as they are posted ! leave a reply if you would like to be tagged

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY | F. TOJI

ᯓ ❤︎ being toji's roommate, you finally snaps after another night of not being able to sleep because of toji's late night hookups. your house, your rules.

DON'T CALL, JUST TEXT ME | N. KENTO

ᯓ ❤︎ nanami always makes sure he takes good care of his girl and other girls can't help but get a little jealous of you. why not rub it in their face a little bit?

SLOW, CAN'T GET ON MY SPEED | K. CHOSO

ᯓ ❤︎ after pushing choso's buttons all day long, he can't help but crack and show you that he's not the constantly shy, blushing mess you think he is

YOU KNOW I AM THAT GIRL | T. AOI

ᯓ ❤︎ of course everyone is shocked when todo comes around with a girlfriend of all things...but how the hell did he bag you?!

BITCH, DON'T KISS AND TELL | H. HIROMI

ᯓ ❤︎ 'i won't go back to my ex' he said. 'i can live without her' he said. well, now hiromi's on his knees with his head is under your skirt, like the liar he is.

DON'T BE MAD AT ME 'CUS I'M C★NT, BITCH | R. SUKUNA

ᯓ ❤︎ sukuna has always hated piercing the pink, girly girls that would probably start crying the second they see the needle. but that succubus tattoo catches his eye.

TRENDSETTER, BITCH | T. FUMIHIKO

ᯓ ❤︎ you always have takaba take your insta pictures, but he's learned recently that he likes taking pictures of you all the time. all. the. time.

I'M A ST★R GIRL, BITCH | H. KINJI

ᯓ ❤︎ hakari has always found himself getting lost in your eyes because of how unique they are. but he recently notice whenever you look at him they do something...different.

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME | G. SUGURU

ᯓ ❤︎ suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

TO BE IN VOGUE, TO WALK IN SHOWS | K. SHIU

ᯓ ❤︎ shiu loves your mini fashion shows on his days off, you always look so so pretty. but today's outfit? he likes it a bit too much.

I'M THAT BITCH, YOU ALREADY KNOW | G. SATORU

ᯓ ❤︎ satoru has started incorporating little accessories that match your fits of the day and he knows he's always making sure everyone knows its from you.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[ivysangel]

READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)

NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)

It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback

"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."

You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.

He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.

God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.

"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.

"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.

"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.

"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."

The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.

"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."

He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"

"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.

He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.

Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.

"You ready?" 

"Do you even have to ask?"

He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.

His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.

A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.

Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.

Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.

"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.

"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed. 

"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"

You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand. 

"There's something seriously wrong with you." 

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!

[celtic-crossbow]

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?” 

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra. 

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still. 

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something. 

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted. 

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction. 

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up. 

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence. 

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.” 

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did. 

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

[pixxyofice]

🏰 cursinguponcastles

of course i manage to grab everything EXCEPT for my anxiety medications. they're still stuck there!! in the House!!! every night I worry my friends are going to leave me for asking them to come along and some part of my brain is like "you wouldn't be worrying if you had taken your meds" and I have to then tell my brain the meds. ARE NOT WITH ME!!!

(this post is unrebloggable.)

-

(anon) asked:

plum? how have you been running this blog without anxiety meds?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Um! How did you know I didn't have my anxiety meds??

-

(anon) asked:

Don't the Houses keep stuff, like, forever? I'm sure if you go back to that House you'll be able to get your meds back. Unless it's like, frozen or something?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Oh. Ohhhh. Well, um! I am going back to get them! They're back in Dormont! I just won't be focused on getting my meds when I'm there, you know??

-

🎗 ribbpeat reblogged from 🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

so was anyone going to tell me the savior of vaugarde runs a horror blog account or was I supposed to just find that out from her APPARENTLY LEAVING HER MEDS IN THE CENTER FREEZING POINT

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🍙 chateau-riceballs reblogged from 🧦 socks-to-be

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the savior of vaugarde turns out to be a tumblr user

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

and this is bad... how?

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

How is this not obvious to you people? She's on tumblr. She's been ACTIVE. Instead of doing her job of saving us she's been giggling about her little vaugarde boys getting eaten. I'm sitting here typing with one arm waiting for vaugarde to be saved, and she's wasting time reading. Boo-hoo she left her anxiety meds in the House where the King is freezing all of us from. Actually, wait! Why didn't she just turn around and take him out? If she's supposed to save vaugarde, assigned to, and she was close to its starting point, why the hell did she walk the other direction and faff about?! Some Savior she is! Most of the country is frozen because of her! And instead of just shutting up and doing her job she went on a funny little pilgrimage. I'm not calling her a Savior anymore. 

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

do you know about the existence of paragraph breaks. Like at all.

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

Instead of looking at... all of that, apparently not everybody knows this so look at this.

THE DOORS OF DORMONT GOT LOCKED BY THE KING AND THE SAVIORS HAVE TO FIND FIVE ORBS TO BE ABLE TO EVEN TRY TO SAVE US. And in case you don't know, Vaugarde is huge! The saviors passed by my place a week ago and they only had four Orbs then.

I think Plum and her friends are making good progress, actually! I think she's allowed to relieve stress by reading about guts and gore, actually.

🍙 chateau-riceballs

she's what

-

🐝 finalgirl-standing reblogged from 🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

Not only does that orb bullshit sound made up and stupid, but apparently Plum also runs a guts and gore blog??? what the fuck is wrong with her. Has she Changed to be so disgusting when she should be Changing herself to be able to save the country?? Do you guys really believe that shit? I haven't heard of a House where Orbs lock the gates, that's clearly her making up excuses for why she can't just go there and beat him. How can her friends stand to be with her when she's this irresponsible?

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

One. The King warped the place (see image here!) and Dormont was known for experimenting with locks. People just be saying crab, I guess.

Two. Defenders. Get their asses. I'll start.

C

🎗 ribbpeat

R

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

A

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

B

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

P

🍙 chateau-riceballs

O

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

W

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

P

🧦 socks-to-be

E

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

N

🐝 finalgirl-standing

I

(this post is unrebloggable.)

-

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere reblogged from 🦴 justanotherchange-blog

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

if I was on a journey to save the country and I forgot my focusing meds at home I would just forget everything. Honestly, Plum's doing much better than I am???

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

If i had to save the country without my meds i would've thrown myself into the sea

-

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

(a picture of the countryside. Half of it is frozen, and the other half isn't)

Well. It was an honor, everyone. I'm glad to have contributed to the crab pow.

-

🏰 cursinguponcastles reblogged 🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

hi everyone, sorry for the silence! My family has been loudly debating what to do about the freezing country, I think i touched something weird and my feet have stopped working for me, so it's hard to get to my writing desk. whoops! it's been a struggle to get words written down. Don't worry, though! I've got a chapter for everyone! This time, things get INTENSE. That internal organs being not internal warning was for a reason!

🏰 cursinguponcastles

CHANGE, THIS WAS SO GOOD!! I'm really sorry you're close to being frozen, but I could see how it affected how you wrote Dembélé struggling to get away! It felt too real, haha!!

I'll miss your fics! I, well, hopefully, will see you in a few months!!

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[spanktony]

REASSURE ME - rosita espinosa

summary: when maggie gets to touchy, you make sure you reassure your girlfriend in the best way possible.

words: 1k+

warnings: 18+, g!p reader, smut, oral, fingering, p in v, slightly jealous rosita

notes: took too long to post this sorry guys 😢

navigation. request.

"Where are you going?" Rosita asks, watching you put your belt on. "Maggie's been begging me to help her fix our crops," you reply, adjusting the buckle. "It's like she doesn't understand she left Hilltop to relax and get away from work."

Rosita chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, you've always been the reliable one when it comes to lending a hand. Just make sure you don't overexert yourself, we don't want you burning out like last time."

She gives you a knowing look, remembering the time you pushed yourself too hard and ended up sick for a week.

You hold up your hands in surrender, "Of course, my love." You reassure Rosita, kissing her on the forehead. "I'll be back home in an hour."

Although an hour and a half passes, you're not home. Rosita decides to leave the house and check up on you and Maggie, with water in her hand, worried about your well-being.

She hopes that you haven't overexert yourself again and that everything is okay.

Only to find you both laughing and enjoying each other's company. Rosita can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering if you prioritize Maggie's company over hers.

Maggie squeezes your bicep, and you lift up your shirt, revealing your toned abs and jokingly flexing.

Rosita's jealousy raises as she watching the stupid smile on your face due to Maggie's reaction. She tries her best to hide her emotions, but deep down, she feels betrayed and insecure.

She wonders if there is something more than just friendship between you and Maggie, like lingering feelings that have yet to be explored.

Rosita walks up to you, and Maggie walks away to grab a nearby bucket. "Hey, love." You smile, wrapping your arm around Rosita's waist. "What's on your mind?"

Rosita hesitates for a moment but then takes a deep breath before speaking up. "I didn't know showing off your body was part of fixing crops."

She glances over at Maggie, who is now bending over to pick up the bucket to fill it with water. "It just seems like you're more interested in impressing her than actually helping out."

Your eyebrows furrow, and you release your grip on Rosita's waist. "I...I..." You let out a chuckle, a bit surprised by Rosita's comment, and lost for words.

Rosita rolls her eyes, slapping the water bottle against your chest. "Just forget it."

You take a step back, watching your girlfriend walk away with a slight frown on your face.

Hours pass, and Rosita is awoken by the bathroom door creaking open. She groggily sits up in bed, seeing you get dressed in your boxers and sports bra in the dimly lit room.

You crawl toward her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. As much as she tries to fight it, she can't help but melt into your touch.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you," you whisper softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I make it up to you?"

Rosita looks into your eyes, her frown slowly fading away. You place a kiss on her lips, feeling her reciprocate it with a soft sigh. Without breaking the kiss, you push away the covers, resting between her legs and deepening the kiss with a small groan.

Your hands explore every inch of her body, tracing the curves and contours that you have come to know so well. The curves that you love due to the fact they mold perfectly in your palms.

Rosita had a habit of just wearing one of your oversized t-shirts to bed, and tonight was no exception. You lift up your shirt, revealing her bare skin underneath, causing a shiver of anticipation to run through both of you.

The cool air kisses her exposed flesh, heightening the sensations of hands and their exploration.

Parting your lips from the kiss, you lean in to whisper in her ear, "You look absolutely irresistible in my shirt."

Her cheeks flush with a rosy hue as she gazes up at you, a playful spark dancing in her eyes. The soft fabric clings to her curves, accentuating her every contour and making her even more alluring in your eyes.

You kiss her stomach, tracing a path with your lips that sends shivers down her spine. She arches her back, a soft moan escaping her lips, as your kisses continue lower.

Her breath quickens and her hands grip the sheets, her body yearning for more of your touch. You hold apart her thighs, teasing her ever so slightly before finally giving in to her desires.

Rosita lets out a low whine, your tongue dancing sensually against her most sensitive spot. The taste of her arousal drives you wild, fueling your want to please her even more.

You continue to explore her with your mouth, your fingers join in the dance, and if you weren't so focused on the sight in front of you, you'd see your girlfriend trying her best to stay quiet.

Her lip tucked between her teeth, head thrown back, and knuckles white.

Rosita's hips start to move involuntarily, grinding against your face as she loses herself in the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

"Baby, fuck!" she gasps, gripping your hair tightly as her climax approaches. Her walls tighten around your fingers, and her moans become uncontrollable, "I'm cumming.."

She lets out a primal scream, her body shaking in euphoria, and you revel in the satisfaction of knowing you've brought her to the brink and beyond.

Rosita lets out another gasping moan, feeling you sink into her without warning. Her eyes widen in surprise, but her body arches with pleasure appreciating the pleasant surprise.

"You're so pretty, baby. How could I ever want someone else?" You whisper, your thumb tracing delicate circles on her flushed cheek. Rosita's breath hitches as she locks eyes with you, feeling close to the edge already.

Her lips part, but no words escape, only small whines of pleasure as she desperately tries to hold back her release. You lean in closer, your voice husky with desire. "Let go, Rosita," you murmur, your words dripping with need.

The sound of her whimpering only grow louder as she finally surrenders herself to you and the amazing pleasure you bring her and only her.

[nayomi247]

Save a horse, Ride a cowboy𐚁

(My version)

A/N: @heart-of-the-morningstar has inspired me to do my own version of the save a horse ride a cowboy smut that she posted, so this is a full one shot. Make sure you guys go visit @bat-boness and give them love and support. As this fic was based off of their drawings. This also is based off the game Red Dead Redemption 2 because that's the only way I'll be able to format this and make it look good. (TAKES PLACE AROUND THE SAME TIME RDR2 DOES)

Pairing: Cowboy! Outlaw! Lucifer/F!Reader

Contents: Smut, established relationship, p in v sex, bondage, biting, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sub Lucifer, light angst, cowgirl position, spanking, hand jobs, dom and sub undertones, blow jobs, praise kink, Lucifer for once isn't short (only because of his boots lol)

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️: THIS ALSO IS NOT PROOF READ, IT'S SOMETHING I THREW TOGETHER IN THE SPAN OF A FEW HOURS

As always, work under the cut🤞🏻

Your husband, Lucifer, wasn't always the kindest man. Of course he was to you, but others weren't quite as lucky. There'd been multiple times where he'd come home with blood covering his hands and shirt.

Though it wasn't something you liked particularly, you still loved your husband, despite all the wrong he'd done in the world.

So there you sat in your shared kitchen, waiting for him to get home. It was well after the time he normally got back. You assumed the job just took a bit longer to handle.

But as time went on, you started to get more worried. He'd never taken this long before. You stood up from your chair, completely forgetting about the plate infront of you and walked over to the door. There, you slipped on your boots and went to grab the door handle.

As soon as you turned the knob and went to walk out, you immediately stopped. There stood Lucifer, coughing and dusting off his muddy clothes, not even noticing that the door has opened and you were standing there. His eyes finally moved up to meet yours.

He smiled brightly. "Oh, my love-" He started, then confusion took over as you leaped at him, almost pushing him off the porch.

"Where the hell were you!?" You practically cried. He fumbled back, both confusion and worry washed over his face. "Honey, what are you-" He started once again, but you had cut him off. "You know exactly what I'm talking about Lucifer. I waited for hours! I thought you were dead, or stranded somewhere!" Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

Realization finally hit him and he knew he had fucked up. "L-Listen, the job took longer than I was expecting, but I got out fine, see?" He spinned around, showing that he didn't have a single scratch anywhere. "And," He said, reaching into his satchel. "I brought home a lot of money." He smiled, hoping that would be enough for an apology.

You sighed. You were still annoyed, but glad he was okay. "Go inside." You said, stepping to the side to let him in. "Of course my dear." He said with the stupid, but handsome smirk he'd always use when he got his way. As he moved past you, he placed a kiss to your head. You swatted at him and he laughed, walking over to the coat rack.

"Your food is probably cold." You said, picking up the plate and walking over to place it on the stove top. You were one of the few lucky places to get electricity at this point in time. You walk back over to where you had previously sat. He stood by the door, taking off his boots and jacket, now left in black jeans and a red collared over shirt.

He walked over to the table, sitting in his designated spot, across from you. There you sat, looking like your mind was running a mile a minute. Silence filled the room for a few minutes. Lucifer was becoming more nervous with every ticking of the clock. No one spoke, except for him.

"I'm sorry." He said. You looked up to him, for the first time since he sat down. He looked guilty, and you felt a bit bad. You flashed him a small smile, which calmed his nerves a bit. "Go upstairs." You commanded, and he immediately knew what you meant by that.

"S-sweetheart-" He fumbled over his speech, trying to convince you that he didn't deserve this. "Now." You said sternly. He got up from his seat with a nod, then made his way upstairs.

You sat there for a moment longer before you cleaned up and started up the stairs as well. You made your way down the hall to your shared room, the floor boards creaked loudly with every step.

You walked up to the door, stopping for a second before turning the handle and stepping in. You looked over to the bed, and there sat your beautiful husband. He looked like a mess.

You couldn't help but pity him. He smiled nervously at seeing you enter. His thumbs twiddled together to keep himself somewhat calm. "H-Hello, my love." He said. You made your way over to him, placing a hand on each side of him and leaning in for a kiss. He allowed you to do so, groaning a bit at the way your tongues danced together.

You found him following your face, more like chasing your lips once you pulled away. You smiled at him, and he made his best attempt to smile back.

"I assume you know what's going on Luci?" You asked him. He slowly nodded in response. "Good," you continued. "Take everything off, I'll get your rope." You pulled away, walking over to a dresser on the other side of the room. As you rummaged through the drawer, you heard the sound of clothes hit the floor. The thought of how he looked made you sweat.

You turned around, rope in hand. You slowly made your way back over to the bed where he sat again, this time clothesless. Except for the white hat that sat atop his head.

Your gaze made its way to in-between his thighs, there laid his half hard cock. You smiled to yourself and brung the ropes to his now together wrists, then tied them above his head.

"Too tight?" You asked, pulling at the restraints lightly. "No." He said. "It's okay." You pulled yourself back and threw the rope towards the dresser, leaving the mess for later. You leaned into him again, using one hand to cradle his cheek, the other to stroke his hard on.

He moaned into your mouth and bucked his hips up into your hand. You immediately pulled away. He whined at the loss. "You should know better sweetheart." You stated, and he mumbled an apology. You brought yourself down so you sat right infront of his cock. You looked up before taking your tongue and licking from the base to the tip.

He whimpered and tossed his head back. "F-fuck angel.." satisfied with this reaction, you brought yourself down completely onto him, his tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. You set a steady pace as you bobbed your head up and down pulling a variety of sounds from his throat.

You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. He was close. "Shit-! D-don't stop, please, please don't." Right as you felt he was about to release, you pulled off, leaving him a mess and unsatisfied.

He whined like a child and groaned. You grabbed where the rope was connected to the top of the bed and untied it. He thought you were letting him go but boy was he wrong, very wrong.

"Scoot back." You instructed. He reluctantly did what you said, still whining about being denied. Once he was by the headboard, you tied him up once again, but now he was more comfortable.

He sprawled himself out before you, showing every part of his beautiful pale body. You got off the bed and started to take your clothes off as well. Once you were naked, as he was, you got back up onto the bed.

Sat on your knees infront of him and leaned forward, grabbing his hat off his head and placing it on your own. "So pretty." He praised as you brought your hand down to your pussy and slid your fingers in between your wet folds. Lucifer couldn't help but be in a trance at the sight infront of him. You were so beautiful, you could make him cum just by the way you looked at him.

You pulled your fingers away. They were now covered in your slick. You took those fingers, and placed them in Lucifer's mouth to suck, which he gratefully did. He moaned at the taste of you, wanting nothing more than to eat you out till you couldn't think straight.

Keeping your fingers in his mouth, you crawled your way up so you hovered right above his hips. Without a second thought, you slammed down onto him. He cried out, biting down on your fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned too, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Good boy.." you whispered, bringing your free hand to run your hand down his chest. "You look so pretty like this." His cheeks flushed and you smiled warmly at him.

He bucked his hips up, and in response, you brought your hand down to his thigh, hard. This resulted in him crying out. You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, refusing to move.

He began to plead with you. He already was denied before, he couldn't handle this too. "Please baby," he whined "Please please please, I promise I'll be good. I'm so so sorry angel. Please fuck me."

Seeing him such a pleading mess infront of you turned you on more than anything could. You did as he asked and slowly sat up, feeling him drag inside you before slamming down again. This continued, moans and other sounds coming from you both. You quickly began to speed up.

"Yes yes yes yes, don't stop." He cried, "W-wanna touch you." Sweat dripped down his features as he tried everything he could to get loose.

You yourself also felt that coil starting to tighten, your pace brutal and quick. You had to bring a hand to your head to make sure the hat stayed on. "S-shit Luci, gonna.. cum." You said, tossing your head back in pleasure. "So, close.." You both said, each orgasm hitting at the same time. Your body shook and he rutted into you, a deep groan coming from his chest as hot ropes of his cum painted your insides.

You collapsed onto him, still having tiny spurts from the after-effects. His gasps as well as your pants could be heard. After about a minute or so, you sat up and smiled weakly at him. He did the same. You leaned down and grabbed him by his face.

"Promise me that you'll never keep me waiting like that again, okay?" You said sternly. He loved when you were dominant. "Yes darling." He whispered and you placed a peck to his lips before grabbing his wrists and untying him.

His arms shot out towards you, and pulled you down onto his chest, the hat falling off in the process. He peppered your face with kisses, holding you so tight that you couldn't get up even if you wanted too.

You giggled and laid your head on his chest, his cock still embedded inside you. He flipped the pair of you over so he was now laying on you. He buried his face in your boobs with a giddy grin on his face.

"I love you so much my darling." He mumbled from your chest. You smiled and kissed his head, your hand rubbing his back.

"I love you too, cowboy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This definitely isn't my best work, but I used past tense, which I normally don't use. I hope it still sounded decent regardless of how unput together it was. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I have another fic in the works that'll hopefully be out within the next week. Love you guys🫶🏻

Here's the original drawings

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hello again! I'm just here to send u another request :P

Could I get Raiden, Focalors, Venti, and the Abyss Princess Lumine for the same request I had for critically injured reader?

Thank you!!

🍌anon

hi tysm for the request! i don't write for lumine unfortunately, she's marked as discontinued on my list since i felt it was difficult to write for someone who is meant to be diverse for each player. so sorry and i hope it doesn't stop you from requesting in the future :D <3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, self blaming behaviors, mentions of falling from great heights, lots of talk of reader being injured/in hospital, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Raiden:

Raiden was always a little cold, a little distant and standoffish. She didn’t mean any harm by it, she was simply busy and didn’t have a lot of free time for you, even if she wished she had. Staring at you now, her trembling hands holding you tight as she tries to find the source of the bleeding, trying to stop it, trying to do anything. In this moment, Raiden feels the crushing weight of her actions, feels the suffocating pressure of not having loved you enough.

If you died in this moment, protecting her from some daring individuals in Inazuma despite the fact she could easily have protected herself, Raiden would never forgive herself. She’s grateful that you don’t die, nearly bleeding out and being in a medically induced coma aren’t great, but you aren’t dead. It’s in this moment that Raiden is grateful for her immortality, for she can sit eternally by your bedside, waiting for you to wake up.

It nearly makes Raiden sick to see you laid out on a bed like that, far too many machines making noises, more bandages than skin visible. It’s enough to have her flinching, unsure that this was even you anymore. But her heart knows it’s you, and it aches at the sight of the damage it has caused. Raiden finds herself thankful that she isn’t required to sleep, eat, or do any other basic necessities, it gives her more time to sit at your bedside, talking to you and waiting for you to wake up, if you ever do that is. She knows it isn’t enough to make up for all the time she’s thrown away, but as she sits there, staring at her hands in her lap, too nervous to touch you in case she causes more damage, she can’t help but feel like it’s at least a step in the right direction.

Furina:

Furina wasn’t a neglectful lover by any means, and after losing her divinity, she had even more time to spend with you. Except she didn’t, why she did her best to put on a brave, happy face, she was depressed. She needed time to heal and found herself accidentally shutting you out of that healing process. Furina was grateful for your loyalty though, staying around and making sure she continued to care for herself.

That was exactly what led to the accident though. While cooking food for the two of you in her kitchen, something went wrong with the stove, causing a small explosion in the kitchen and setting fire to everything in sight it could reach. Furina was able to get you both out of there, but she hadn’t been able to stop the explosion, leaving you in a critical state.

Standing just outside your room, watching as the Melusines change your bandages and mutter amongst themselves about your condition, Furina can only blame herself. If she hadn’t been so depressed, if she had done the cooking for once, if she- if she just- her thoughts become muddled with more self-loathing and blame, her gaze unfocused until a Melusine approaches. The small creatures had tried to coax her into the room numerous times, telling her that it was ok to sit beside your bed and that you couldn’t feel any pain right now. Furina politely refused every time. She didn’t feel she deserved to sit or even stand near you. She didn’t think she even deserved to stand outside your room, but she couldn’t stand to be apart from you until she knew you were ok. 

Venti: 

Gliding from the mountaintop was supposed to be a fun little date between the two of you. The gentle breeze coaxing you from the cliffside down to the sprawling fields below, it was supposed to be fun. Venti even went out and bought you both new gliders, ones that matched. It was cute and fun, up until yours broke. He wasn’t sure how, but one of the wings managed to disconnect from the other, leaving you wobbling before the winds turned against you, tipping you over and sending you plummeting.

He could only react so fast, hastily trying to unclip his own glider so that he could go after you. Venti hadn’t even thought about using the power of the wind, he was panicking, wasn’t thinking straight. He couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that you were actually falling. The sickening crunch was enough to snap him out of his panic, allowing him to finally unsecure his own wings and drop down. He didn’t take any damage though, landing safely thanks to the wind.

Rushing you to Mondstat felt longer than it took, it really had only been a few minutes, but it felt like hours. You were laid on a cot in the Cathedral, all the sisters rushing about trying to help you. Several of your bones had been broken and Sister Barbara was doing her best to heal them. Grand Master Jean even came to help, taking shifts with her sister to give the younger girl some rest. It seemed as though all of Mondstat came to your aid, with the Librarian and Alchemist of the Knights working together to find some sort of healing potion. Everyone was doing something, except Venti. He sat on the roof of the building, crying and cursing his own name. He prayed that Celestia would take his remaining divinity, that they would cut him off and grant him humanity, grant him death. Venti was to blame for this, it had been his idea, he hadn’t reacted fast enough to catch you with the wind. He was sure you were going to hate him after this. 

[loveundrwrld]

omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

hallo! Could I request Comfort prompt 11 for Bruce Wayne? Your writing always makes me smile.(except when it supposed to make me sad, but I like that too)

Thank you!! Posted from mobile, so sorry for any mistakes!

Warnings: None; this is pure fluff

The office was empty and quiet, and had been for a while. You waved your hand periodically to trigger the motion sensor of the fluorescent lights when they winked out on you. It was late, and you had already been there far longer than you meant to be. You sighed, weary, leaning back against your desk and propping your chin up on your hand. Your eyes were beginning to cross; you felt like you'd read the presentation slides a hundred times, but they didn't feel finished.

You groaned as the lights winked off again, but before you could move, they suddenly flickered back to life. You frowned, and then--

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

You screeched at the sound of Bruce's voice, whirling around in your office chair. He bit the inside of his cheek and raised a penitent hand, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. You huffed in annoyance, pressing your palm over your pounding heart as you settled back down in your chair.

"Don't...Do that."

"I'm sorry," Bruce apologized, walking closer.

"And I know exactly what time it is, thank you."

"What's got you here so late?"

"Proofing the slides for tomorrow."

"Still?"

"I don't think they're ready."

Bruce sighed softly, pulling a chair from another desk up beside yours.

"Here. I'll trade you."

Your brow furrowed in confusion before you broke into a smile at the sight of a bag of takeout.

"Oh, Brucey," You cooed, "You do like me."

He snorted, reaching out and picking up the laptop.

"I'll give these a look while you eat."

You leaned over, pecking his cheek before opening the bag--the hot aluminum dish, wrapped hunk of bread, and a smaller dish with a side salad. Your stomach growled as the scent filled your nose. You popped open the lid, stabbing your little plastic fork into the piping hot baked ziti. You pushed it around a little to let the heat out before glancing guardedly toward Bruce. He had a solid poker face: eyes darting from side to side as he read, brow drawn slightly, lips pursed...Until they moved:

"...Stop staring and eat your dinner."

"I can eat and stare."

"You can, but you aren't."

"The pasta's hot. I'm letting it cool."

Bruce cut you an unimpressed glance, but his lips twitched with a smile.

"Anything?" You asked, nodding toward the laptop.

"I've had time to read one slide. One."

"And?"

"It was perfect." He nodded toward the dish again. "Eat."

You took an obliging bite, groaning softly at the taste.

"There's water in the bag, too."

"I freaking love you," You mumbled around the mouthful, fishing into the plastic bag for the cold bottle. Bruce huffed a soft laugh through his nose, murmuring, "Love you, too, honey."

"How'd you know I'd still be here?"

"Lucky guess. You get singleminded when you're worried about work."

"I think singleminded is a bit strong."

"You're in the office at 11:30 on a Tuesday night, proofing slides that I'm positive are perfect. That is the definition of singleminded."

"I'm committed to my job, I like my job."

"I'm not knocking it, honey," Bruce soothed, smoothing his hand over your knee. "I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself as well as you take care of your work."

"Mm, but if I take care of myself, what'll you do all day?"

Bruce laughed, raising his hand and gently tweaking your nose.

"I'd have time to learn to play polo."

"You want to play polo?"

"Alfred suggested it." He chucked you gently under the chin before beginning to turn back to your laptop.

You leaned in before he could get too far, pecking his lips gently. Bruce smiled, chasing your lips for one more kiss before refocusing. You watched the mask of concentration fall over his face again, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Eat."

"You're so cute when you concentrate."

"I am not cute."

"Bruce Wayne is a cutie patootie."

"If you call me cute one more time, I will put typos in these slides."

[pupyuj]

thinking about extrenely dubcon g!p stalker wonyoung (who so happens to be your blockmate) breaking into your house late at night and yes😁

i held off on posting this for the longest time bcs tbh, i never rlly knew where i stood with noncon/dubcon even though i say in my pinned that i do write about it??? yea IK weird but it's been quite some time since i finished this and i can now actually write these kinds of things without flinching so! ANYWAY, i like it when you guys make wony a pathetic loser it's so fun... except that she's a bit creepy here but whatever.

[cw: g!p, stralker!wony, perv!wony, dubcon/noncon (it really was teetering the line...), breeding]

FUCK . okay so wony being so obsessively in love with you since the day you sat beside her in your first day of classes, but can't bring herself to talk to you bcs you just radiated pure sunshine energy that it blinds her too much so she settles with following you around, stalking you irl and online??? when she's sitting beside you, she's sneaking pics of what's hiding underneath your skirt... and you're always talking to people so you don't really notice your pretty seatmate lowering her phone and snapping a couple pics of your panties... she uses those pics to get off for sure.. she moans your name so loudly while stroking her cock, wishing that she had the courage to just fucking grab you, bend you over your desk, and pound your pretty pussy in front of the entire class... but poor wony has to be satisfied with just looking at you from a distance. a very, very close distance...

omg but like, wony eavesdropping in one of the conversations you have with your friends.. and she finds out that you're a virgin 🤭 but then she gets upset bcs your friends started teasing you about some girl who you were talking to in that way and how you weren't going to be a virgin for very long now... oh god, wony got sooo mad 😤😤 she saw you first!! therefore she deserves to be your first!! she firmly believed that nobody will ever be able to fuck you as good as she can... and she wanted to prove this so naturally, wony breaks inside your house dead in the night... feeling her heart beating so loud not out of anxiety or fear of being caught, but because your scent was everywhere... wony could just lay down in your living for the entire night and just bask in your sweet scent.. but she was here on a mission 👀

wony making her way inside your bedroom with exactly zero noise??? she stares at your face for a while, breathing heavily and her hands already unbuckling her belt and removing her pants dkshscnhsjgh 😵‍💫😵‍💫 wony climbing onto your bed with her cock just . out, stirring you awake... and ofc you were going to freak the fuck out bcs who the hell was in your house?! but wony was quick to cover your mouth with her hand and shush you, "it's me... it's me, (y/n)... it's wonyoung. i won't hurt you... just don't scream." but you were so fucking scared bcs you didn't know her!!

wony keeping her hand on your mouth bcs she knew you wouldn't keep quiet... leaning down to kiss your neck despite your resistance, her moaning at the way your skin tastes on her lips?!! wony finding your sweet spot and making you moan accidentally,, and she's so happy bcs she thinks you're liking it but fuck you were in tears bcs what the hell was she going to do to you??? ☹️ "i couldn't bear the thought of not being your first time... so i'm getting to you before that girl..." she says and finally you realized that that thing that was pressed up against your stomach was her dick... again, you started freaking out—kicking, squirming, scratching at wony's arms and trying to push her away but she was unexpectedly strong :(( "i'm gonna fuck you, (y/n)... i'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna love it.. you're gonna love me." and then she swiftly pulls your shorts n panties off and slams her cock in your cunt :(((

wony's hand in your mouth muffling your pained moans as she thrusted into you :(( "i-i know it hurts but.. ohh, fuck, so g-good... it'll feel better in a bit, i p-promise.. mhm...!" wony starting to quicken her pace and forcing her cock deeper inside you bcs she wanted to feel your cunt envelope her entire length :((( n then you're crying and sobbing bcs it hurt so bad but then... wony starts hitting a few good spots and you find yourself moaning out of pleasure instead of pain... all of this was so wrong.. wony didn't ask for your permission, wasn't being gentle at all, and she was restraining you... but fuck, her cock was such a perfect fit in your tight little pussy and you wanted more...

"see...? it feels nice, r-right? fuck... i'll g-go faster.. wanna ruin you so bad..." wony grips your hip with her one hand and started pounding into you so much harder and faster that you screamed into her palm... wony was starting to get hurt by the way you hit her arm and clawed at her skin so she pinned both of your hands above your head... she doesn't care that people could probably hear you screaming and crying,, your voice was akin to that of an angel, she could listen to you all day!

sobbing while wony was marking you up :(( begging for her to stop bcs it was hurting you,, and you told her she was hurting you but she refused to listen,,, only kissing your tears away and expecting you to take everything like a good girl... so you had to :(( it goes on for a while... her going in and out of you, her groans, your cries being the only thing that was heard throughout the house... you finally coming all over wony's cock and not knowing that you did bcs wony kept fucking into you, faster again bcs she was close too :(((

"g-gonna come inside you... d'you want my cum, (y/n)?? w-want me to... h-haahh... want me to get you pregnant? i want to... i really want to, fuck... you're mine... i need you to be mine..." wony buries her head on your neck, mumbling all this nonsense about giving you her kids... then you're begging her not to fucking do that but she doesn't want her cum to go to waste :(( wony coming inside you with a long, whiny moan which you thought was a bit cute...

feeling wony's warm cum inside you... only pulling out minutes later when she has dumped every fucking seed inside your cunt... putting your hands on her shoulders when she finally let go of your wrists,, god you felt so violated.. but why were you kissing her?? why were you thinking that she was the prettiest thing you have ever seen?? and why, after recovering from everything, were you begging for her to come inside you again?? 😣😣

[bonkhrnyjail]

sweet plum | chapter two

masterlist | pinterest board

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: g (will become explicit in later chapters, minors dni)

summary: this is a flashback! just a little backstory on how you got your nickname :P

a/n: hi :) i'm planning to make a masterlist after i've uploaded all of the chapters i've completed so far but i'm also rusty as fuck on how to use tumblr (haven't posted since like... 2017 except for to read fics). anyways, pls enjoy. <3 p.s. i said it in the last one, but i wrote this almost 10 months ago before starbucks started publically supporting a genocide, fuck starbucks and free palestine.

It was hot as the fiery depths of hell outside. The team had ordered sub sandwiches for lunch, but the thought of hot deli meat and thick slabs of cheese made your stomach turn, tiny beads of sweat forming at your hairline. No thank you.

It was barely a week into the job, and you were still getting acclimated to the social environment. You just really wanted to make the right impression; professional but personable, dedicated but effortless, confident but humble. You couldn’t let yourself relax too much, or chances were your sense of humor would likely bite you in the ass.

You sat with your back flush against a massive, sizzling hot tire attached to a big ol' trailer, you weren’t sure whose. You sat alone, your legs extended, long blades of grass dancing along the curve of your calves, tickling and irritating your delicate skin.

It’s not that you were a complete introvert, you loved company. You chose this career because you loved to work with people, building relationships with your clients was one of the greatest joys of your life, but truthfully, you'd always lived in the balance. Alone time was essential to your wellbeing. Being able to sneak off for ten to fifteen minutes and breathe in the peace and quiet was like a reset to you, allowing you to settle into exactly who you wanted to be when you returned to the world of the living.

You heard the sound of crunching gravel from behind you, heavy boots making an awkward clunking sound as they eased their way toward you. You lifted your crooked head to find a backlit head of wavy brown hair and a quizzical brow staring down at you.

“What are you doing back here all by your lonesome?” Pedro questioned, juttering in and out of his Joel Miller coded Texas twang. 

“Just enjoying the peace and quiet. You were pretty damn chatty this morning,” you teased, but immediately regretted it coming out of your mouth. “Just kidding.” you added, clunky and awkward and clearly trying to cover your ass.

“There’s no such thing as peace and quiet when you work with me!” he jabbed, letting out a deep belly laugh, one that invoked an involuntary giggle from your throat.

Something about him made you let your guard down, whether you wanted to or not. Conversation flowed with barely any effort at all. Your senses of humor fit together so beautifully that the majority of your time together was spent laughing until your cheeks were sore. You’d been able to stifle your embarrassing laugh with a demure giggle up until now, but you knew it wasn’t much longer until your cackle would make its presence known.

“May I sit?” he gazed down at the patch of grass next to you, a perfect amount of space for him to slide down and sit, just close enough that your thighs would touch his. You patted the empty spot and scooted yourself a bit to the left, enough to create a sliver of space between your bodies. He plopped down, a bit harder than you were expecting, and started unwrapping the aggressively large sub from its crinkly brown paper.

“Did you eat? These sandwiches are really fuckin’ delicious,” he garbled as he took a massive bite out of the oozing bread, filled with more meats than you could count on your right hand. The sight made you queasy.

“I don’t know why, but the thought of deli meat in this heat… I would rather die. I don’t doubt it though, they look like an... experience, for sure.” you let out a huff of air, almost a laugh but not quite, and he giggled through the remainders of his last bite.

“Aw come on, you’re not gonna let me eat alone, are you?” he teased, pushing more sandwich out from the bottom of the wrapper like it was a Gogurt. “I look like an idiot trying to fit this thing in my mouth.”

You rustled through your mess of a tote bag, trying to locate the fruit that you hastily grabbed as you were bolting out the door that morning. You really needed to organize that shit.

“Here,” you held it up for him to see, him looking up with his sandwich lodged in his mouth, lips stretched and straining around hard shell of the bread crust. You laugh, hard, and he nearly spits out the hearty chunk he'd violently torn off.

“I won’t let you eat alone," you smiled, wrapping your lips and biting deep into the soft, delicate skin.

“What is that?” Pedro managed, struggling to swallow the remainder amalgamation of meat and cheese filling his cheeks, mayonnaise coating the wiry mustache hairs above his upper lip.

“It’s a sweet plum.”

You turned the fruit to show him the sticker, the words printed boldly with a smiling fruit dancing under them.

“They're my favorite, I buy them by the case because I go through them fast. I could bring you one tomorrow if you want.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a sweet plum,” he remarked, matter-of-factly. “I’m more of a berry guy. But I’d definitely like to try one.”

“Totally. I’ll bring you one tomorrow morning,” you affirmed with a smile.

He smiled back, dimples appearing as a soft ray of sun illuminated his skin. Your eyes got lost for a moment, unable to resist studying him in this light.

He was gorgeous. His eyes were deep and sparkling like an amber geode, nose curved and structured like that of a roman god. The apples of his cheeks were prominent and bouncy, fading into the skin around his eyes, crinkled and folded to perfection, like origami. His facial hair, soft and shaggy, was hugging a strong, structured jaw. For a moment you were completely transfixed, unable to avert your gaze from the human art piece staring back at you, still smiling but with a softened gaze. You were still smiling too, a heat flushing your cheeks and prickling your chest.

You were finally able to break away from the moment, returning your attention to the plum dripping a reddish-purple down your thumb. With nothing to break the silence, you took another bite, this one sending streaks of the juice down your hand and arm.

“Jesus,” you muttered through a laugh, grabbing a napkin from your bag with your free hand to clean up the juicy mess.

Pedro hadn't stopped staring at you, his head cocked slightly to the side and his eyes deep in thought.

“What?” you asked nervously.

“I like that… as a name. Plum.” He said, watching as you attempt to catch all of the trickling drips before they land on your skirt. He grabbed a napkin of his own and dabbed at a drip that nearly made it down to your elbow.

“Like, for a person?” You questioned. 

“No, no, a nickname. It has a good ring to it. Kinda... rolls off the tongue nicely.” He went for another bite of the sandwich, this one smaller and more manageable. “Can I call you that?"

Your heart thumped in your chest as your mouth fell open in surprise. The nickname, it sounded so personal, like something you’d call a partner or a child. Would it be appropriate for him to call you that? In front of other people? You knew he didn’t mean it that way, as if, but you've learned from observation that things can be misconstrued very easily in an environment like this. A part of you wanted to say no, to avoid any possibility of conflict, but the other part knew that he wouldn't let you get into any trouble for something that was his idea. You could sense it, he was a truly good guy, far better than the majority you’d known thus far. It was just a bit of fun, an inside joke between the two of you. No harm, no foul.

“Sure,” you swallowed the last bit of your bite, savoring the rich, sweet flavor on the back of your tongue. “But only if you let me figure out a nickname for you too.”

“Deal," He pulled the wrapping back over his sandwich and folded the excess paper under to the bottom. "You think on that, bring me ideas tomorrow, along with that plum. We should figure one out for Bella too.”

“Certainly,” You nodded, wrapping the remaining half of your plum in the napkin you had folded between your fingers.

Excitement stirred in your tummy. You used your free hand to push yourself up, stabilizing your feet underneath you and coming to a standing position. You reached a hand down to grab Pedro’s and help him up off the plush grass.

"Wanna head back?"

He extended his hand and you yanked hard, a bit harder than you meant to. He stumbled forward into you, but you caught him by the shoulders, the only thing separating your chests was a half of a sub sandwich. You both let out a hearty laugh as you shuffled away from each other, a thick and palpable tension filling the space between you.

“Thanks, plum.”

The words rolled off of his tongue like they were made for his mouth. You bit down on a grin as you followed him back to the crowd, buzzing and floaty and your head mostly empty, save the echo of his voice in your ear.

. . . . . .

The next morning you woke up with a plastered grin, springing out of bed, probably for the first time in your life. It was much earlier than you usually made it out of bed, but your excitement kept you snoozing your alarm like usual. You'd stayed up late that night, creating a small list of nickname ideas for both Bella and Pedro, tucked away in your notes app for later.

You managed to shower, dry and style your hair, do your makeup, and eat breakfast all before nine. Call was at eleven, and you can't remember the last time you had this much morning. You sat on the couch with your shoes on, three plums wrapped up in napkins, peeking out of your bag. A yawn sprawled itself across your face.

You needed caffeine.

“Hey Siri, call Pedro Pascal.” you said without overthinking it.

You hoped that Pedro wouldn’t mind you calling him with the promise of caffeine on the other end. You’d seen how much coffee he consumed on set… probably enough to kill a pilgrim. 

“... H-Hello?” a deep, groggy voice rumbled through the little speaker next to your ear.

“Oh god, are you sleeping? Jesus I’m sorry, it’s not that important…”

“It’s alright, I mean, I was sleeping, but I probably shouldn’t be. How are you?” his voice still a low and raspy whisper that gave you goosebumps.

“I’m… I’m good! Good," you tumbled on your words, not expecting his thoughtfulness after a such a rude awakening. "Yeah, the cosmos must have shifted because I woke up… early?”

He let out a soft chuckle. You felt a tiny pang in your chest. Making him laugh always made you feel a bit giddy.

“Anyways, I was going to get some coffee before work. I was just wondering if you might want anything? I was gonna get some from the Starbucks down the street from my place. Do you like Starbucks? I know you’re probably used to something a bit more upscale, I can go somewhere else too-”

“I like Starbucks.” he blurts, cutting off your rambling. You can hear the smile in his voice.

Why were you rambling? You never acted like this around any of your other clients. Maybe it was the pressure of the job, or the fact that you just accidentally woke up the biggest celebrity you’ve ever worked with to ask him if he wanted Starbucks.

You felt careless, a little dumb. A text would have sufficed. But something you couldn’t quite explain, something beyond your consciousness, urged you to call. It felt like possession, only gaining back control of yourself when you heard his low baritone on the other line.

“Oh! Awesome. Cool, cool… what would you want?” you ask, your voice strangely higher in pitch than usual. You cringed after the words left your mouth, still flabbergasted at your unnatural behavior. 

“Iced espresso, 6 shots please.” he croaked, the sound of rustling sheets muffling his voice on the other line.

You paused for a moment, in shock.

“Ha ha ha,” you let out a clearly fake and forced laugh.

He couldn’t be serious?

“What?” you heard on the other line, the sink gently running in the background. “That’s my usual.”

“… you’re joking…” you uttered, genuine concern taking over. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Hey, buddy? I can not be responsible for you going into cardiac arrest. I’m not CPR certified and I can’t have a client’s death on my CV.”

He let out that hearty, booming belly laugh he so often did, the one that echoed off the walls of any room and filled the space with its warmth.

“It’ll be fine,” He cooed, doing his best to ease your concern. “I gotta have my go-go juice.”

You laughed hard, barely able to hold in a snort.

“Fine, ok, 6 shots of espresso over ice. Do you know what Bella likes?”

“Uh... It has vanilla in it…” he trailed off, his words replaced by a symphony of ums and ers, ”I uh…. I don't remember. I’ll call them and call you back.”

“You can just text me you know, it’s no problem,” you offered.

“I hate texting. Talk to you in a bit.”

The call drops. 

You sat in the same spot you were, staring at your phone, waiting for the call to appear. You didn’t check Instagram or TikTok, didn’t pull out a book or put on headphones to listen to music… nothing. You simply sat there, staring at your lock screen as the minutes passed, just waiting.

A jolt shot down your body when the call finally appeared, your ringtone set to the highest volume.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a bit shaky from the jumpscare.

“Hi— You ok?”

He's so thoughtful.

“Yeah! Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting my phone to ring.” you lied, the idiocy of the statement completely oblivious to you in the moment.

“I told you I’d call you back!” he exclaimed, teasingly. “Forgetting about me that fast, huh?”

You let out a schoolgirl giggle, and nearly smacked yourself in the face when you heard the involuntary sound leave your mouth.

“Ok, Bella wants a… hold on, I wrote it down.” he drawled as you heard him searching for the paper. “Medium…. Vanilla Sweet Cream… Cold Brew. Phew. Such complicated names.”

“Remind me to never have you order my drink for me then. You’d probably pass out trying.”

“Go on, lemme try.”

“Grande Iced Blonde Honey Oat Milk Shaken Espresso, light ice, cinnamon on top.” you recited, speeding up your words purposefully, making it sound even more ridiculous.

You heard a soft chuckle, the speaker barely picking up on its volume.

“Damn. Nevermind.”

You laugh alongside him, your stomach balling up into a knot.

“Ok, well, I'm gonna go get your go-go juice, I’ll see you soon.”

“What, you don’t want to chat?” he questioned in a disappointed tone. 

He wants to chat?

“I... well, I suppose I just assumed that you’d have something more… pressing to do.” you spoke in somewhat of a mumble.

“I can do both.” he said, a smile thick and coating his tone.

You put on your headphones and booked it towards the door.

.   .   .   .   .   .

You talked to Pedro throughout your entire commute to work. You both laughed as you ordered his usual, and he tried over and over again to get the name of your drink right while you waited at the counter. You probably looked insane to the people around you, laughing essentially non-stop with your headphones in, the buds unintentionally hidden under your hair.

When you arrived to work, Pedro greeted you from across the lot, the call still going and his phone up to his ear. 

“Should we hang up?” he asked, whispering into the phone so you couldn’t hear his real voice from where you were standing.

You hit the end button without saying anything and started walking towards him with the drink carrier, keys and phone in one hand and your bag in the other. 

“Uh, RUDE,” he shouted toward your direction, hand on one hip and knee popped out to the side. “Do you need some help?”

You let him take your bag as you headed up to the trailer to get started with hair for the day. Pedro plopped himself in the chair as you turned on the brilliant, somewhat blinding lights on the vanity mirror.

“I have a present for you! Other than the coffee,” you said in a lilting, sing-songy voice.

You held the plum in your two hands and presented it to him like something precious and rare.

“I washed it already, but I can wash it again if you want. Do you want it right now?”

He grabbed it out of your hands and took a massive bite. Juice spilled all down the sides of his mouth and into his salt and pepper facial hair. You started cackling at the sight, quickly holding the napkin beneath his chin to keep the little red rivers from dripping onto his clothes.

“Mmmm, I see what you mean,” he managed, his mouth still full of the fruit. “It’s so sweet, but just the tiniest bit tangy, and so juicy."

He went in for another bite, this one somehow bigger than the last.

"It’s really, really good.” he garbled.

“I’m glad you like it,” you replied sweetly. You placed the napkin in his free hand and started to set up the products on the nearby counter.

“Helloooo?” you heard from the other end of the trailer, an english accent lilting off the confined walls of the trailer's interior.

“Heeeey guuuurl,” Pedro sang across the space, responding to Bella. “You gotta try this fruit, it's amazing. Here, have a bite-”

“No no, I brought Bella one too!” you cut Pedro off, quickly grabbing the items from the counter and extending your hands toward them; one with the fruit wrapped in a napkin, cold brew in the other. “Be careful, it’s really juicy.”

“Oh my gosh you are so sweet, thank you!” Bella said as they opened their arms for a hug.

You wrapped your arms around them, squeezing them tight with a little shake. So far you felt the most comfortable around Bella out of the whole cast. Something about their energy was so welcoming, and despite their age you felt like you could probably be friends. Real friends.

They pulled away and took a small bite of the plum; napkin wrapped around it, catching any of the escaping drips. 

“Oh my god, this fruit is incredible. What is this?”

“It’s a sweet plum.” Pedro chimed in, enthused. “Which is also my new nickname for my lovely hairstylist.”

“I brought ideas for nicknames for both of you too,” you beamed through a wide smile.

“That's so cute. I love it,” Bella sat in the chair to the left of Pedro’s, legs folded criss-cross and continuing to munch on the fruit.

The three of you went over your list as you started working on Pedro’s hair for the day. You gave Bella your phone to make any adjustments or additions as you considered the options carefully. After a near half hour of contemplation, interlaced stupid jokes and explosive bouts of laughter, you landed on just “P” for Pedro. 

“I like how punchy it sounds,” he explained. “Like, imagine I walk into a room and just say, 'The name’s P.' That’s powerful man. P for the powerful Pedro Pascal.”

You and Bella cackled at the ridiculous sentiment, but agreed that P was fitting. It was punchy, and utterly ridiculous, just like him.

You were halfway down the list of ideas for Bella when Pedro jumped up straight.

“I HAVE IT! I HAVE IT!” He swiveled around in his chair to face Bella, damn near knocking you off of your feet with him. “Bella and Ellie. Bellie.”

You gasped.

“Oh, yes, yep. That’s the one.” You reached a hand down low, palm up, inviting Pedro to high five it.

Bella loved it too.

As you finished up Pedro’s hair, the three of you talked, joked and laughed, roaring until your stomachs burned. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had been so utterly content. 

Over time, the names settled in effortlessly, like missing puzzle pieces in your speech. They belonged there, special, as your friendship bloomed in the months that followed.

. . . . .

chapter three

[absoluteabsolem]

okay guys i'm having a brainrot on my way to work about goncharov bc of all your sexy meta posts but i haven't seen a single one talking about the flowers in this film so indulge me

so i'm a florist right ? my n°1 passion when i watch a movie or a show is to trashtalk the flowers bc 99,9% of the time they look like shit. like. i made better arrangements during my first year of training. it makes me sad. yes goncharov is a brilliant film in itself but it gets a whole star just for the fucking flowers (i can't find the florist in the end credits if anyone knows pls tell me ??)

like we're talking thierry boutemy in marie-antoinette (2006) levels of artistry. all the arrangements are so BEAUTIFUL and i'm gonna talk about them. it will ofc mostly be about katya lmao bc men yet have to express themselves through delicate floral jewellery (i wish they did though. i am waiting). katya doesn't have that many lines for a main character but her presence and the colours speak for themselves. sorry i'm on mobile i don't have any pictures

alright so of course you have the wedding. everything is so fucking opulent it's a cascade of wealth you have almost no foliage at all except eucalyptus and that shit is expensive. there are more peonies than you could ever count and the roses are soooo beautiful (i think most of them are juliet peach roses but i can't be 100% sure) like. i could smell it from my couch it was as if i was there aaaa the fucking wax flowers and scabiosas i love scabiosas so much !! and the perfect balance between flowers of different sizes !!! it was wonderful i mean you've seen them

but what i love about these arrangements is that they're all in white and yellow. it's an unusual combo for a wedding even if white is a classic wedding colour in western cultures and yellow isn't so weird at the heart of summer. yellow is however also the colour of jealousy and betrayal and idk if you ever noticed but andrey's boutonniere is the ONLY ONE that is just yellow. you don't have the white carnation (associated with love. screaming) on it like everybody else. also note that katya's bouquet is only white which is all about purity elegance etc. i do think however that the colours of andrey and katya's flowers on that day are more about the way goncharov feels about them at that point in the story, rather than their own feelings.

we also see katya wear several decorated combs in her hair throughout the film (idk enough about hair stylism to comment of the haircuts themselves so i'll stick to the flowers). the first we see are pretty simple and not rly noticeable, white and pastel pink, typical discreet but feminine stuff. p much like the rest of her wardrobe up until the boat scene where things get interesting.

this is where katya meets sofia who is wearing that rly fucking gorgeous burgundy (ambition, power and wealth) dress and look i know monica bellucci can wear anything and be beautiful but fucking hell. i mean i'm gay but i briefly questioned myself for a second there. anyway. the boat shenanigans happen and once katya goes back home and pretends she didn't almost get fucking killed, the flowers in her hair are burgundy. i mean i know we have the fruit market a bit later but the comb is what sold me on that ship. i see you katya

when she almost shoots goncharov (if we were rly in love you wouldn't have missed AAAAAAA i'm normal) she has a super pretty mix of blue hydrangea/eucalyptus in her hair. blue is the colour of control and tranquility and i thought it was very sexy of her. she still has them when sofia leaves her and i love how you can see the tears about to fall down her cheeks but she doesn't allow it. things got out of hand but she's not willing to lose control of herself in front of sofia and i think ultimately it's what fucked things up between them but i try not to think about it too hard

what DOES however keep me awake at night is that martin scorsese rly thought it was okay to have red bouquets everywhere made in the exact style of goncharov and katya's wedding in goncharov's home when andrey shows up to kill him. i mean the subtext isn't even subtext at this point it's like saying point break isn't gay but the flowers are the fucking cherry on top. andrey shoots him and he doesn't miss because he loves him and in case you're too dense to understand that here is a decadent display of red and burgundy. it is the colour of love it is the colour of violence and in their case one simply does not go without the other and i am so fucking normal about this