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#it kicks my goddamn teeth in
a-slut-for-smut · 8 months
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was feeling pretty ill today (headache, body aches) and very complain-y to himbo and he ordered delivery to me from my favorite fried chicken place for lunch AND left work early to come home and give me a massage 🥹🥹
sometimes i wonder what i did to to deserve him because i suckkkkk
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I just know the music in season 2 is gonna be so so good. I’m trying to manifest SOS by Abba and Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane being somewhere in there, but I’ll be happy with whatever they pick!
I NEED ABBA IN SEASON 2. IT IS NOT A WANT, IT IS A NEED.
Tell me what you're most excited to see in season 2!!!
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So were any of you gonna tell me about Essence of Blade Biting because I am So Normal About It
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.
It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.
Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.
You'll survive.
Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.
Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.
God you hate laundry day.
At least it looks empty.
Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.
Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.
God fucking damnit.
And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.
Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.
And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."
"Ah think so too."
You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.
A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.
Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.
Flatlining right now would be great.
"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"
Who? Oh no.
How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.
Someone kill you now.
"Johnny."
His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.
"Get the detergent."
"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.
You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.
Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.
They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.
You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.
As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.
"Lass! Ah think these're yers."
What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.
Undergarments. Why the hell is he-
You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.
The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."
He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."
How mortifying.
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bindeds · 2 months
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[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.
#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,
a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO
masterlist. request something :>
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“Sir, someone is here to see you.”
Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.
“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”
“Someone else, sir.”
“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming. 
The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.
You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.
“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?” 
“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.
“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks. 
“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”
.
On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—
“Charlie?” 
“Dad!”
When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.
“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”
“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.
“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”
“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone. 
“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you. 
Something in his room buzzed intermittently. 
Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.
Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.
“Ohhh no.”
.
“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”
“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.
“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?” 
“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”
Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.
“Ow, what—”
“Go.”
“Babe, what’s—”
“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.
“Honey?” 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”
He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.
“Hey!”
Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.
“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?” 
“Oh, that’s not—”
“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”
“Luci.”
“What?” His head snapped in your direction.
A silent gasp escaped you. 
His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain. 
Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”
“We’re just friends.”
“I know that but—”
“It’s an expression.”
Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.
You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.
“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.
Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.
“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”
“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”
All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.
.
The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable. 
Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.
He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you. 
You bit your lip.
“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.
“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”
“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”
“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”
“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”
“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”
“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”
“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”
“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms. 
Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you. 
“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.
You grinned back. “Okay.”
You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek. 
Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside. 
Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.
“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.
“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended. 
“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.
You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.
“I’m gonna sit back …”
You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into. 
He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high. 
“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.
“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.
You bit your lip. “Well?”
Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree. 
He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint. 
He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.
He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards. 
The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second. 
He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further. 
“Whoops,” he grinned. 
Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you. 
“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”
Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”
“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car. 
Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them. 
You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of. 
He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.
A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips. 
His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.
His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.
“Luci … fuck …”
“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”
Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.
Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.
It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name. 
His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal. 
Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.
“Luci, please …”
“Please what, honey?”
“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.
“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”
A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.
You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you. 
“You want it all, princess?”
“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.
 “Are you sure?”
“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”
He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.
Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head. 
Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you. 
“Are you okay?” He asked. 
You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—” 
“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”
“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone. 
Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”
He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”
It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed. 
He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.
“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”
You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”
“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”
With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace. 
A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you. 
His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less. 
“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”
“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”
His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend. 
Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away. 
“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.
He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.
“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed. 
When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat. 
“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”
You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders. 
 “You?” Was all you could manage. 
“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”
You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.
“In me, Luci!”
He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed. 
“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered. 
“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.
“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”
“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”
“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand. 
“Yeah …”
“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”
“As you wish.”
You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him. 
“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.
Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.
Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.
“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”
You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke. 
A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass. 
Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.
You winced as you bent to take it.
Brat >:)
you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]
you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]
HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]
i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]
because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]
bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]
You chuckled as you swiped the notification.
You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now
Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS
Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al
Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH
You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo
Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole
You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH
Vox : ( typing … )
Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—
“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.
Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.
“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”
“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.
You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat. 
You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.
He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.
You laughed. Hard.
“What—what’s happening why’re you—”
“The clothes, baby!” 
“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”
“I mean …” you smirked. 
“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking. 
“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”
“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket. 
He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.
“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”
“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“
“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”
“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.
Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened. 
“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”
You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth. 
He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours. 
“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”
“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. 
“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”
“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”
“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”
“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said. 
And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.
I know you love me because we love like its fate.
.
You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them. 
“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends. 
You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.
“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.
“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind. 
“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”
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mybrainproblems · 2 years
Text
oh my god the urge to retweet every asshole tweeting about how resi isn't like the video games or is "too woke" and add the "i am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me" to it
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dreamtofus · 3 months
Text
don’t let me freeze
Summary: Daryl fucks you in his jacket in the freezing cold.
Word count: 712
Author’s note: this is my favorite thing I’ve written so far LOL also female reader
masterlist
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The breeze runs through your hair while the leaves crunch beneath the soles of your loosely laced Converse. It’s chilly but your sweater keeps you somewhat satisfied. The breeze doesn’t seem to bother the sturdy man alongside you, who is only wearing his leather jacket with a long sleeve under it.
You glance over at him, meeting his eyes. Dusk is starting to set and your feet ache after the long exploration, nowhere near home.
“I think we should settle down here,” You suggest to the archer, bringing some attention to the quickly setting sun.
“Yer.. Guess so.”
The two of you start collecting twigs and dry brush to start a fire. Once lined with a circle of rough rocks, Daryl gets started on making a fire.
Once it finally lights, the two of you huddle together next to it. You allow yourself to lean into him, enjoying his body warmth.
“Do you ever think about what it was like before… y’know? The way we adapted to this… lifestyle.” You genuinely ask, stirring up conversation.
His hands wrap around your waist and pull you in, “Naw, cus then I wouldn’t have found you… Besides, I was built for this.”
His response makes you giggle as your noses gently brush each other. You wrap your arms around his broad neck and gently press a kiss to his lips. He tastes like ash and candy cigarettes. His hands trail up under your sweater, raising soft goosebumps.
Your hips gently sway atop his knee as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Your hands anchor in his hair, pulling gently at the roots.
You work on removing his jacket, laying it to the side. He starts to peel your sweater off, and your shirt is next to follow. The cold bite of the night gnaws at your bare skin. You shudder, pressing yourself closer to him in search of warmth.
After he undoes your jeans, you kick them off along with your shoes. His rough denim jeans rub against your bare thighs, which are laced with tiny bumps and bruises. Daryl picks up his leather jacket which was thrown to the side, and threads your arms through the thick sleeves.
The jacket is big and bulky, but it provides some shelter from the wind. You smile at him before meeting his mouth. Your nipples poke through your lightly lined lacy bra. He pulls away just to admire you in his jacket. His hands rest on your hips.
“Shoulda done this sooner huh? When it wasn’t cold?” He chuckles and brushes his fingers over your breasts.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” You roll your eyes and scoff in response, pushing his hand off you.
He unfastens his belt and lowers his jeans slightly, revealing himself. He pulls your panties to the side and you line yourself up, taking the plunge.
He swiftly bottoms you out, making you both gasp in response. Your jaw clenches as you adapt to the feeling. His hands trail underneath your (well, his) jacket, making circles on your hip.
You slowly start to rock yourself back and forth, then work yourself up to a light bounce. His hand stops making circles, flattening itself against your back for support, while the other hand reaches between the two of you to graze your clit.
Light moans escape from his gritted teeth, “Goddamn girl…”
“Fuck Daryl! You’re so fucking good”
Delicate slapping and heated breaths fill the forest air as you feel that knot forming.
You huff into his ear, “Fuck I-I’m…”
He shushes you with an open kiss while you finally reach that high, blinded by an array of feelings.
He helps you pump your hips a few more times and finally releases inside you.
You playfully slap his arm and glare at him. After he buckles his belt, he slips your panties back into place.
“God you’re fucking awful,” You groan as you start to lay on your side.
He lays down next to you and pulls you closer into you, “That’s not what yer were saying five minutes ago.”
You giggle before nuzzling into his chest, ignoring your bunched-up sweater and jeans in the corner.
“Love ya girl,” He grumbles.
The comforting warmth puts you to sleep before you can reply.
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your girl is going crazy and insane
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batfamluvr · 3 months
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Valentine's Day with the Batboys
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CW❣️: riding, semi-public sex, unconventional aftercare, overstimulation, cunnilingus, bath sex??, mirror sex (if you squint, writer was rushing and it's obvious who they don't read enough of or just don't particularly like.
Dick Grayson had been fucking you well into the night, inside some abandoned building on his patrol. Your body was pressed into the chilly brick wall and his sweaty chest was pressed against your back." Fuuuck," he breathed out and continued his bruising pace.
His thrusts were frenzied and desperate now. Dick's bottom lip had retreated in between his teeth and he was purring into your ear." Perfect," he rasped," pussy." His black and blue gloved hands kneaded every piece of meat and muscle on your body.
"Good girl," he breathed out, trying to retain some sanity." Takin' me so well. So slick and wet." With that, he pulled out at the very last second and came onto your ass cheeks with quivering, tensing thighs and choked groans.
Dick had slid down the wall, huffing and groaning." Happy Valentine's, sweetie," he said, pulling a single vibrantly red rose from his suit pocket and handing it you.
Jason Todd's head was thrown back and his mouth was open in a silent moan as you rode him silly in the bathtub of the hotel he'd rented for you two. Rose petals and vanilla bubbles stuck to the small of your back." Goddamn," he groaned and smacked your ass. The sting was delicious.
" so addictive," he grunts, hands sliding up to cup and play with your tits. A sweet whine flows out of your mouth as his soapy hands circle your nipples, leaving them hardening in the cool air." You're enough to drive a man wild."
Jason almost felt toyed with after a few minutes." Sorry, babe, water sex is not what they make it out be," he coos tauntingly and plows into you. The back of your head was smacking against the mirror. He had you in missionary on the counter. He was trying to cushion the impact of your head, but your gummy walls were cradling his cock perfectly and his focus was having a hard time splitting.
With each thrust, roses and bubbles would hit the floor from where he'd dragged you out of the tub, needing more contact and pleasure. The water made it all feel dry and strenuous. His hand stroked your cheek, eyes soft and juxtaposing his sharp pace. Each snap of his hips had you seeing stars.
He'd ended up coming with his cock down your throat, getting himself a mini-blowjob in the process. Of course he finished you off with his tongue since his cock was down for the count and he's a gentleman.
"Happy Valentine's to us and us only, my love," he purred and drug his finger down your slit, over the overstimulated and throbbing clit he'd sucked dry.
Damian Wayne gazed at your cunt as it stretched over his cock. It was Valentine's Day and he spoiled you rotten. Streamers and balloons were thrown everywhere; half eaten steak and half-drank expensive wine laid on the nightstand of his room.
You'd convinced Damian to let you ride him, to finally be spoiled for once. He sucked in a sharp breath, toned stomach rippling." Beautiful," he stated in a hushed tone. If you didn't know Damian any better, his version of sex-talk would've gone over your head. But it didn't. You blushed and ran a hand through his straight, black locks.
The only sign that he was even alive was his mouth, which was parted into a silent groan. Your thighs locked into a squatting position and you began to bounce on his cock. Damiann grasped your thighs as his back arched up into you." Beloved," he rasped out.
The sheets were sliding off the corners of the bed; the roses and streamers on the mattress were swiftly getting kicked off. Damian had a grip on the ends of your hair, controlling your pace." Harder," he commanded, regaining some dominance." Do I look like I'm made of glass?" A sharp, cracking sound split the grunts and moans. He'd smacked your ass." 'M not. And I don't scare easily so break me, if you can," he scoffed.
It had been at least ten minutes and Damian hadn't cum. Damn him and his stamina. You had cum twice; your thighs were aching and your cunt was pulsing and leaking onto his pelvis. If it weren't for you being the one to convince him to be ridden, you'd have gotten off long ago.
"Dami," you moaned out, hands on his toned chest. He'd lost it; the sultry, almost pornographic spill of his name from your mouth was enough to jerk his hips and have him shoot his seed into you." Shit," he breathed out, hands falling from your hips to your thighs and caressing the aching muscles as he tries to catch his breath.
You stifled chortles at his cussing, since it was so rare. Neither one of you panicked, both so caught in the bliss, and the subconscious knowledge of knowing you were on the pill." I hope I made this V-Day memorable, Dami," you puffed tiredly.
Tim Drake (don't read much of him, sorry) had you on your back, arching up into his mouth. The night of love and passion had started slow---kisses, hickies, and sweet nothings. You'd always believed that Tim enjoyed the foreplay more than the actual sex.
With time, you were able to move the night into something more...erotic. Now your hands were carding through the raven waves as his tongue lapped greedily at your weeping cunt. Pornographic mewls and whines flowed from your lips like a ballad, seducing Tim. His hips were thrusting down into the bed; he was trying to sync his tongue and his hips.
"Yes," you moaned," right there." Tim's tongue fucked in and out of you, two fingers curled in your cunt. The soft scratch of his nails on your pillowy walls was heavenly. It felt as if the bed would levitate you straight to Aphrodite's feet.
Gazing down at him, you could see the ethereality of his features. They were soft, delicate; his pupils were blown and clashing with his electric blue eyes. His plump and supple tongue was shimmering with your body's gratitude before and after he brought you to a planet-imploding orgasm.
Your eyes screwed shut and your back hunched and thighs quivered. Tim's hands clasped around your waist, calming you, bringing you down gracefully. The position you two held looked renaissance painting worthy.
Soon, your thighs relaxed and you slumped on the mattress. With a yawn, you said," so tired, Timmy." His electric eyes flickered to your glowing face." But you haven't eaten your chocolates yet."
Bruce had you on your back, legs pressed to your shoulders as he pounded into you. It was one of his favorite positions when he was feeling passionate. He liked to see your cheeks redden and lips wet and plump from all the kissing. He thought you looked divine like this---a light sheen of sweat coating your face, limps slobbery and plump, eyes glossy and fucked out.
"Bruce," you whined sultrily. He'd already brought you to three celestial shifting orgasms." Please." The makings of a grin crawled up his face and his two of his thumb snaked into your mouth." Again, sweet one," he commanded. You moaned, skin searing with enough lust and desire to make Venus blush.
A light, nearly invisible blush spread over Bruce's cheeks. For a second, the only noises heard were the erotic and lustful sounds of his hips smashing against your used and slimy cunt. His hands were pressed on the backs of your knees, subtly pushing them up farther.
Soon, he came with a shout, falling against your chest and panting. He promptly pulled the condom off and tossed it in the trashcan beside his nightstand. Your arms wrapped around his sweaty and blistering body." Are you okay?" He asked as softly as he could, trying terribly to keep the Batman out of his voice. He rang for Alfred to start a bath and order-in.
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stevenose · 9 months
Text
casanova (18+)
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day 3/31 of the august writing challenge [link]
today’s word: voicemail
contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; steve leaving a very inappropriate voicemail while drunk; drunk!reader
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You stumble into your apartment with a giggle, reaching around with a drunken hand for a light. In the soft glow of it, you can see you have a voicemail on your recorder. You kick off your shoes and shimmy over. Falling on the couch, exhausted, you press play.
You have one new message and zero old messages. Thursday, August 3rd at 11:35 pm.
“Hi,” a breathless voice comes. It’s Steve. Your brows furrow. You were just with him all night - why on earth did he call you?
“I’m at the bar right now,” he slurs into the phone. “Well, y’know that. You’re here, too. Hi!” he shouts, and you vaguely remember it now, how he’d been waving at you from the corner while you sucked down a cocktail. You’d waved back.
“But I wan’ed t’give you a call,” he says, voice low, suddenly serious. “‘Cause ‘m so fuckin’ shy ‘round you when you’re lookin’ like that.”
In your drunk confusion, you have no idea what he means. It was business as usual all night as far as you were concerned.
“Blue’s your color. Y’know that? Makes y’look so delicious. Every - every guy in here’s fuckin’ starin’ at ya, honey, makes me see red. Makes me wanna…. Don’t even know where to start, sweetheart. Saw yer underwear when you were gettin’ in Nancy’s car. Could use to see ‘em again. You wear silk all the time?”
Your face feels hot, heart pounding rapidly between your ribs.
“‘nd your ass look- looks so goddamn good in tight shit,” he continues, his voice getting lower and more grumbly. “Would y’let me fuck it? Taste you? I know you’re tight ‘n hot. Shit. Should grind my fat cock ‘gainst you, show you what you’re missin’.”
Your hands are playing with your underwear now, in no way guilty for it. He should’ve said something. You’d have let him fuck you in the bar bathroom, make you a mess before shoving you back outside with your friends like nothing ever happened. This voicemail can be your dirty secret, too. You wonder if Steve will ever even remember it.
“Shit.” He sounds pained now, breathing in sharply through his teeth. “Some dumb fuck is tryin’ to grind on you.” He moves away from the receiver and you can only barely make out, “Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”
You’re properly touching yourself now, legs spread on your couch as you keep listening.
“Whatever,” he goes on. “Just gotta work on you a little bit, huh. Y’know I can rile you up, don’t you? You’ve heard about me, right? All I wanna do is get your lipstick sm-smugged on my lips ‘n my cock inside of ya. Wanna watch ya cum, drives me fuckin’ crazy. Fuck, he’s touchin’ you, I gotta go -“
And then the message cuts off.
You remember now that Steve had stomped over and grabbed you from a man that was unsuccessfully trying to court you, his big hand dragging you away by the wrist. Pulling you over to the jukebox and pulling his wallet out sloppily, one dollar bills raining down on the ground as he gruffly asked you to help him pick a song.
You laugh loudly. You’re about to call him, hand reaching for the receiver, when a call comes through and makes you jump. You’re panicked, hoping Nancy made it home okay as you pick it up. “Hello?”
“Do NOT listen to your voicemail!”
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wynnyfryd · 8 months
Text
the kind of charm we need
written for @steddiemicrofic september prompt ‘charm’ + 548 words | rated T | pre-relationship, fluff, flirting, boys being dumb
🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄
“‘Not the kind of charm we need,’” Steve mutters derisively to himself for the tenth time that day as they pull up to the cemetery curb.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin sighs, “your time and talents are sooo wasted on us, Steve, we get it.”
Max glares at him from the rearview like she agrees with Dustin, then shoves out of the backseat and slams the door shut behind her without a word.
Shit.
Steve watches her climb the hill, guilt rolling through his guts. Fuckin’ Nancy. There are bigger problems here.
Like, for example, the metalhead fugitive having a nervous breakdown in a boathouse.
“Oh, my god,” Lucas says from the backseat as the walkie crackles to life, Eddie’s quivering voice calling out for ‘Dustin? Anybody? Hello??’
He passes the walkie up to the front with a look like he’s debating whether or not to just smash the thing to pieces on the asphalt instead. “Can you maybe use your charm on Eddie before I murder him?”
“He’s in distress!” Dustin cries.
“He’s on my last nerve!”
“Seriously, anybody?? Please!”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, give me that.” Steve yanks the walkie out of Lucas’ hand, hauls himself out of the car — leans in to tell the two shitheads to stay put and shut up before he closes the door.
He leans against the driver’s side, head throbbing, body sore. Can’t tell if he’s too young or too old for this shit. He pushes the talk button with a begrudgingly slow press.
“Steve Harrington’s babysitting and distraction service, how may I help you? Over.”
“Stevie!” Eddie whoops, sounding genuinely thrilled to hear Steve’s voice. Steve knows he’s just excited to hear anyone’s voice, but. Hm. “Goddamn am I glad to- wait, where’s Henderson? Sinclair? Are they—?”
“They’re fine,” Steve assures before the creep of hysteria he hears can fully take hold. He kicks his heel against the front tire. “They’re waiting in the car. I’ve been instructed to, like, charm you into calming down, or whatever.”
“Charm me?” Eddie’s voice lilts with interest. Steve can almost see the smile, the way he licks across his front teeth.
“Just a— well, not a joke, but, like…” Steve trails off, gives up trying to explain. Nance has this way of making comments that cling like cactus spines. “Never mind.”
“No, no,” Eddie says. “Go on. I’m ready to be charmed.”
And maybe it’s the way Eddie says charmed like a snake scenting the air, or maybe it’s the stress of the day; maybe he’s finally having his own little mental breakdown as a treat, because for some insane reason he leans into whatever this is, pitches his voice all low and slippery and asks, “What are you wearing?”
Silence for a moment, and then Eddie cackles, the noise so loud it overwhelms the little speaker in the walkie, bursts of laughter breaking through the static noise. Steve finds himself laughing, too, a slow thing that builds and builds, swells inside him like blown glass until he’s warm and bright all over.
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes when he finally calms. “You’re— you’re ridiculous. Shit, man, I really needed that, you have no idea.”
Steve smiles to himself. Bites the inside of his cheek. Not the kind of charm we need.
No, but someone might.
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note: i am aware that this is canon adjacent (which is to say that i meant for it to take place in canon but i didn’t feel like rewatching the scene for total accuracy so like, canon can bite me it’s close enough)
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munson-blurbs · 7 months
Note
Hi <3 for your trope-or-treat, how about dum-dum and butterfinger with Eddie, aka my favorite dum-dum
Idiots in love/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson
A little offended that I'm not your favorite dum-dum, but it's fine.
Warnings: fluff, a bit of suggestive language
WC: 728
Divider credit to @saradika
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Eddie can’t stop staring. 
It’s not on purpose; really, it’s all Mrs. Byrd’s fault. She had insisted on handing out candy after a pop quiz, calling it a ‘treat after a trick.’ You could’ve picked one of the fun-size chocolate bars like Eddie had, but no. 
You’d chosen a lollipop. 
The same goddamn lollipop that you’re currently twirling around your mouth, occasionally pulling from between your lips with a soft pop. You’re talking with Lucas, nodding sympathetically while he laments about having to take his sister trick-or-treating tonight. 
“What about you?” Lucas asks, taking a bite of his turkey sandwich. “Any fun Halloween plans?”
You shrug. “Eddie and I are gonna watch some scary movies once he’s done at the party.” Tina’s annual Halloween party is the perfect place for him to sell, but he never sticks around to hang out with people. 
“Really setting the mood,” Jeff teases Eddie, earning him an elbow to the ribs. 
You’re used to their jokes—calling you and Eddie ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’ saying that you two bicker like an old married couple, humming Here Comes the Bride whenever you walk into Hellfire. But it wears on you, especially given your ridiculous crush on him. 
You can’t stop thinking about Jeff’s off-handed comment, even when Eddie breezes through your doorway. He’s got a VHS copy of The Amityville Horror in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. 
“You ready to hang out with Jody?” He punctuates his statement with his signature devil horns gesture, tossing a bag of Gummi bears in your direction before popping the movie in the TV. As the opening credits begin, he flops onto the couch and, incidentally, your lap.
“Get up!” you grunt, laughing as you try to push him off of you. “You’re squishing me!”
Eddie pouts and remains in place. “But how else am I gonna protect you from the Satanic influences?” He drops his register an octave to match his Dungeon Master voice.
“You are the Satanic influence!”
“Fair enough.” But, still, he doesn’t move; instead, he looks up at you and wistfully remarks, “you still look beautiful when you’re upside down.”
You wrinkle your nose, feeling your body heat up at his unexpected compliment. “Did you drink at Tina’s party?”
“Not a drop.” 
Given the lack of alcohol on his breath, you’re obliged to believe him. “Then stop being an idiot.”
“I’m…I’m not.” Confusion creases his brows, and he finally sits up. He situates himself next to you, bringing your legs over his thighs and forcing himself to look into your eyes. “Okay, I’m gonna do this, and I’m sorry if it fucks everything up, but…I have, like, this big, stupid crush on you? And I don’t know what to do about it except tell you, because I feel like I get weird around you, a-and I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you. Because it’s the opposite, y’know, like I really like you–”
“Eddie.” You interrupt him gently, allowing yourself to play with a lock of his hair. “Eddie, I like you, too. I didn’t think you felt the same way.”
He exhales, visibly relieved that his confession didn’t end in humiliation. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or anything, but Jeff told me that if I didn’t tell you soon, he was gonna kick my ass.” He chuckles, shaking his head, curls dancing in front of his face. “Can I kiss you? I-Is that okay?”
You answer for him, gathering all of your courage to press your lips to his. He adjusts you so you’re straddling his waist, His hand is on the back of your head, bringing you impossibly close to deepen the kiss.“Shit,” he mutters, abruptly pulling away, “I promised myself I’d take you on a date before we, y’know, do stuff.” His cheeks go red, his cheek pinched between his teeth. 
You glance over at the movie playing on the TV, then back to him. “Does this count as a date?”
“It can if you want it to.” Eddie’s fingers brush against your arm, the slight touch sending shivers throughout your body. “Do you? Want it to count as a date, I mean?
“Yes, please.” 
His lips are back on yours as soon as you finish affirming what he already knew, grateful that he won’t have to hold back any longer.
--
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luveline · 2 years
Note
could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘
love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader
Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.
"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"
She glares at him. She's a mirror.
"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"
She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.
"Baby, stop!" he scolds.
She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.
Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.
Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.
She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.
"Roan," he complains, defeated.
Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.
He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.
He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.
He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.
Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.
You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.
"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."
He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.
He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.
"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.
He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.
Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.
"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."
Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.
"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.
Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).
You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.
"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"
You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."
Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.
"What's her name?" you ask.
"Roan. I'm Eddie."
You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.
When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."
"Hi," she says slowly.
You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."
"Yeah?" he asks warmly.
You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."
He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.
"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.
Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"
He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."
"Like cake and stuff?"
"Loves it."
You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.
He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.
"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."
"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.
"How about Thursday?"
Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.
"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."
You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.
"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.
"No, of course-"
"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"
"Sure, but-"
"Yeah?" you ask.
"I can bring Roan?" he asks.
Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."
He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.
You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.
"Bye," she says sweetly.
You nod at him. He nods back.
"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.
You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.
Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.
"What?" he asks her.
"Chocolate?" she questions.
"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.
-
more eddie and roan
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ecoamerica · 25 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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twola · 5 months
Note
idk if this is too vague, but arthur/f!reader in the classic trope of, oh my god I can't believe we both almost just died sex? did they both almost drown? Was there a fire? did he save her life? who knows! i feel like arthur would sees the woman he loves almost die and immediately fuck about it
Okay this has been in my asks for WAY too long and it’s such a good one and I wanted to do it justice.
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Left Unsaid
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
When he think's he's almost lost you in a run-in with a rival gang, Arthur quickly gets over his nervousness in approaching you.
The bloodcurdling scream jolts him from sleep, making him stumble up from where he was sitting on a rickety chair in the main room of the old cabin. At first, he thinks it's a dream, but when the sound of breaking glass pierces the night, Arthur shoots up; the chair falling to the ground in a clatter as he quickly shakes the vestiges of sleep from his mind.
This abandoned cabin off of Eris Field seemed the perfect place to spend the night instead of making the trek all the way back to Shady Belle tonight - your yawning from behind him on his horse had him chuckling as he made the decision to stay - doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you the bedroom with the old single bed. As much as he’d like to be sharing it with you - he remained externally aloof - proclaiming that he’d sleep on the chair in the main room. He certainly did not dare to ask to share your bed - not now, probably not ever. 
But the rustling and thumping behind the door where you sleep has his heart racing - his hand flies to his revolver as he readies himself to throw his shoulder into the door and shoot whatever it is that is making that noise, but the door bursts open before he gets the chance.
A man stands on the threshold - dirty, and grimy, with a faded gray woolen military uniform and a yellow bandana around his neck.
Of course, goddamn Lemoyne Raiders.
The raider holds up his knife in front of him, and in the din of movement and chaos around them, Arthur can see the liquid sheen over the steel in the man’s hand.
The knife, dripping with blood. The man, seemingly unharmed. The door, slightly ajar, to the bedroom where you slept.
A cold stone settles in Arthur’s gut as he puts the pieces together. In an instant, he snarls, diving toward the man with little regard for his own person, tackling him to the ground and ready to rip him apart with his bare hands for what he’s done to you. As Arthur mounts himself on the man’s chest and begins to strangle him, the movement knocks the oil lantern off the table, crashing to the wooden floor and immediately bursting into flame.
The man’s neck snaps between Arthur’s hands and he immediately leaps up, moving toward the bedroom where you were sleeping.
Another body crashes into him, a Lemoyne Raider dressed like he is straight out of a Civil War battle tackles Arthur to the ground, the two of them tumbling along the floor and breaking through the rickety door to the porch. Arthur rolls backward, unsheathing his hunting knife as he grits his teeth, ready to slice this damn bastard into shreds.
Of course, the wannabe soldier is no match for the hardened outlaw. They sure as hell don’t make them like they used to. Arthur easily dodges a swing of the man’s fist and throws his weight forward. He sinks his knife into the raider’s gut, and immediately shoves him to the ground. He gurgles blood from his mouth as Arthur rushes over him, back toward the house.
The flames burst out the windows as he barrels back toward the door, grabbing at the handle and cursing aloud as it burns him. 
The constriction in his chest has settled into a churning in his gut as he prepared to kick the door in. At this point would he be finding your charred, lifeless body, having bled out on the floor because he couldn’t protect you?
“Arthur-!”
He steps off the porch, not sure if he is lightheaded or hallucinating, but you move toward him, hitching your skirts, blood covering your blouse, your hair wild.
“Jesus-” He crashes into you, having nearly leaped the final few steps, crushing you into his chest, nearly causing you to stumble.
He yanks you back, large hands on your shoulders, and looks you up and down, eyeing the blood patch on your blouse.
“N-not mine.” You breathe, but he does not move his hand from your ribcage. It presses inward, against the wet cotton, splaying across your side as if he did not believe you, checking for where the knife would have marred your flesh.
“Arthur-” You whisper, your hands tight on his biceps, “I’m alright.”
His eyes dart back up to yours, searching, pupils dilated, breathing heavily.
“Ar-”
You’re cut off completely as he pulls you against him and presses his lips desperately against yours, muffling your surprised yelp as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. After a moment of shock, you melt into his embrace, fingers tightening on his shirt sleeves as you open your mouth to him.
He kisses you like you are the air he breathes. Like you are some kind of salvation… like he thought he almost lost something.
Arthur pulls back, breathing heavily, a flush having taken over his face, “Christ-” he goes to unwind his arms from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
It’s his turn to be cut off as your hands immediately travel to the collar of his shirt and you pull him down to your lips to kiss him again, needy as you moan into his mouth.
His arms immediately recircle you, hands moving down from your ribs, down, down to your waist, your hips, your rear. Hooking his arms around the back of your thighs, you’re lifted up, squealing in surprise into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist. 
Continuing to press into each other's mouths, you barely notice him walking the two of you back, further from the flaming cabin, into the woodline, and finally against a tree trunk a safe distance away. He pulls back, panting as you recline against it, his arms tight under your thighs.
He gazes upon your kiss-swollen lips; your heaving chest as you breathe heavily, your pupils blown wide in arousal. Arthur takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, his hardening cock pressing against your cunt, and your eyes flutter closed as a needy, breathy whine escapes your lips.
“Arthur-”
He does it again, maybe for his sake as much as your own, the blood rushing to his groin and filling his cock properly. He grits his teeth as the rolling becomes rutting, your gasps driving him insane.
Before he gets to the point of no return, he slows his hips and leans over to recapture your lips in another kiss. As he pulls his 
“Thinkin’ you was dead back there-” He pushes his lips to yours again, “Christ- I… I never told you-” 
One of his hands leaves your thighs, but you have no fear he’s going to drop you. He buries it in layers of cotton, pulling at your skirts to move them from his way, reaching your bloomers and pressing against your cunt, watching your face intently as you moan, the cotton separating you quickly dampening against his fingers.
He leans in again and groans against your neck. Grabbing the cotton tightly, he yanks until he feels the seams give way, the tearing sound ringing in his ears as he delves within the ruined fabric to your soaking folds. You jolt against him and whine loudly as he slides his fingers along the seam of your body.
Arthur covers your mouth with his own as he sinks his fingers into you, working you open as you clutch desperately at his shoulders.
After you’ve cried out several times in the night, his hand leaves you and you sigh at the loss, he shushes you gently as he works at the buttons of his trousers, finally freeing his cock from his pants after moments of fiddling. His hand returns to your thigh as he adjusts you in his arms. The head of his cock presses gently against the rim of your cunt.
Your hands move from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumb tracing his lower lip gently before he sucks the tip into his mouth, his eyes trained on yours.
He pulses his hips and his cockhead slips inside you. Your brows crinkle with the first vestiges of the ache of penetration, and he leans forward again to press his lips upon your forehead.
“What did you never tell me?” You whisper as he holds you on the cusp of joining, the precipice of sheathing himself into you.
One of his hands leaves your thigh, though you are completely unafraid of falling with your legs wrapped around him and the strength of his other arm. His fingers brush back a strand of your hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear before his rough and calloused palm rests on your cheek.
“You’d have died and I woulda never told you I’m in love with you.”
Your eyebrows raise in shock as you clutch at him, and while you remain silent, after a moment, you pull him closer with your legs, nudging his back with your ankles, and he slowly slides himself inside you, inch by inch, until your hips touch and you mewl with the stretch. He hums softly before slowly, gently, rocking his hips, starting a slow rhythm as you get used to him.
His powerful arms keep you suspended against the tree trunk with each roll of his hips, each glide of the inches of him in and out of you, well glossed and hot with your slick.
Arthur’s lips press to yours incessantly, muffling your gasps and whines as he presses into you. After one particularly deep thrust, you throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping against the trunk of the tree.
“Careful there, darlin’,” Arthur slows his hips, and tightening his grip on your thighs, he pulls you away from the tree, you yelp and tighten your legs around his hips. He chuckles softly as he walks you, still joined, a few steps from the tree and slowly lowers the both of you to the ground on a patch of grass. Spreading himself out over you, he buries his head against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, his forearms on either side of your shoulders, rocking his hips into yours again.
The staccato whine of the syllables of his name escapes you as you hook your ankles around each other over his back. Carding your hands through his hair, your fingers interweave between his honeyed strands, his hat long gone in your desperation to join yourselves.
He presses himself up above you as his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing loud and heavy as he pounds you into the ground.
“God-” you cry out as your hands grasp his shirt, “Arthur, yes-”
He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, looming over you as he careens toward completion.
You arch your back, your thighs wrapping tighter around him as you begin to babble - “Yes- Arthur… I love you too-”, another gasp as he hits that spot within you, “God - I love you so much-”
That’s it. There it is, stripped bare and bleeding out like an open wound, his heart catching in his chest at your confession, and his amazement leaves him speechless as he thrusts into you once more, holding himself as deep as he can possibly get into you, feeling you pulse and clutch around him, wailing your pleasure into the night. It’s only a moment more before he has the wherewithal to yank himself from you, in the nick of time as he spurts his seed over your cunt, dripping white into the dark curls at the joining of your legs.
He’s gasping, you’re gasping, and he groans as he settles himself to the side of you, barely able to hold himself up with the exertion. Your legs hang open as you pant, flushed from your cheeks down your neck.
One of his large hands spreads out over your chest, against your racing heart, and you turn your head toward him, breathing out through your nose as a smile graces your lips.
“Probably should get outta here before any more stragglers find us.” He says, out of breath as he removes his hand to tuck himself back into his trousers. You nod and sit up, pulling your skirts down over your legs.
“D’ya think…” you trail off as you watch him rebutton his pants before he pushes himself to stand. His hair is ridiculously ruffled from the amount of times you've run your fingers through it.
“Mm?” He holds out his hand to you to help you up. 
You take it, and he pulls you up into his embrace, his hand secure on your lower back.
“Was wondering if we could spend the rest of the night in Rhodes or somewhere instead of heading all the way back to camp…” You ask as you lay a hand on his chest.
He squeezes you closer to him. 
“Sounds mighty nice… certainly wouldn't mind a stay in a hotel room tonight.”
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jenosbigtoe · 5 months
Note
Requesting a haechan shot where he loves to tease and edge until ur like. AT THE BRIMM. He's cheeky everywhere he goes !!
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: lee haechan x reader
warnings: meanie hyuck, jealousy, degradation, fingering, cunnilingus, spanking
you were basically asking for it.
prancing around in front of his horny ass friends wearing nothing but a string bikini top and thong. tits bouncing around and bare ass out on display for everyone to see barely covered by the pathetic excuse of a “swimsuit” you were wearing. it was supposed to be a beach day, not a slut-yourself-out-in-front-of-your-boyfriend’s-friends-to-rile-him-up day.
“baby, you know you piss me off when you do these kinds of things around other people,” he spoke lowly through gritted teeth into your ear. he gave your bare ass a hard pinch for emphasis.
you smacked his hand away. “ugh, you’re too possessive, hyuck. relax.”
“you’re literally bare ass naked in front of my friends, how could i not be pissed off?”
he was so sulky for the rest of the day. sitting under the beach umbrella instead of hanging out and glaring at you menacingly with everyone else. you could visibly see the fire in his eyes and the red hot anger radiating off his body. but who cares? today was supposed to be a fun day at the beach!
until you were back in the hotel room, tears rolling down your face as he had you bent over his lap.
he gave your tingling ass cheek another hard slap. “so you wanted to be a fucking slut?”
you were a babbling mess, sniffling and sobbing and wriggling around. “n-no!! i wasn’t.”
he gave you another smack. “pissing me off all goddamn day. acting like a cheap whore.”
he started to pull on your bikini thong, giving you a tight wedgie that rubbed up into your leaking pussy. you cried out at the feeling, cunt spasming and clenching around nothing.
“you fucking like this huh. you like being punished, spanked, called a slut,” his voice was low and dangerous as he wiggled your thong up your cunt, fabric rubbing up on your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your spine.
fat tears rolled down your face and dripped down to ground. you attempted to squirm around and away from his relentless punishment but he suddenly threw you on your back and pinned you beneath his heavy body.
“not so fucking fast slut. i’m far from done with you,” he breathed out before crawling down to face your achy cunt.
“ah, so my slut is turned on by this,” he smirked and stared hungrily at your dripping pussy barely concealed by the piece of string you called a bikini.
you whined and kicked your legs around before he grabbed your thighs and held you down. he dove straight into your drooling pussy, flattening his tongue against your core and sucking at your clit. he moaned at the taste of your sweet cunt on his tongue, sending vibrations through your core. he licked a long stripe up your cunt, gathering up your dripping juices onto his tongue, before shoving his tongue as far into your hole as possible.
you bucked your hips wildly into his face, screaming and sobbing from the feeling. you grabbed at his hair and pulled, causing him to go even harder on you.
“o-oh my, f-fuck!!” you cried. “hyuck, oh my god oh my god!”
he stopped and looked up into your fucked out face. “aw, little slut likes getting her pussy ate huh? such a fucking whore.” your juices and his spit were glistening off his chin. hair wild, pupils blown, he looked like sin.
he shoved his fingers into your dripping cunt, easily sliding in from the way you were drooling and creaming. he started to pump his fingers up into your sweet spot, pounding his fingers knuckles deep into your creamy cunt as he licked and sucked on your clit hard.
you were losing your mind, feeling your pussy clench and spasm around his fingers as you bucked your hips to meet his face. you were a babbling, sobbing, screaming mess, saying incoherent sentences as hyuck ate your pussy like a starved man. “so good oh my god f-fuck so good hyuckk!! more please more more!!”
you were so so close to release, feeling your climax build right before the toppling over the edge. when all of a sudden he ripped his fingers out of your hole and removed his face from your spasming cunt. you whined at the loss of contact, why?
and then he got up from on top of you and walked away, leaving your fucked out, shaking form right where he left you.
“dirty sluts like you don’t get to cum. maybe this will teach you a lesson.”
a/n: i got super carried away and then realized this kinda wasn’t what you asked for… i hope you like it anyways el oh el
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months
Text
🎃 Good enough to Eat
Licking CW: bound reader, abduction, body worship (receiving), teasing, drugging, dub-con, body image issues
The reflection in the mirror glared at their body, turning in circles to fully appreciate how bad they looked in this outfit. It was such a stereotypical thing to do that (Reader) felt ashamed, but that didn't stop them, not when their skin was squishing out over the top of their jeans. Their best friend was waiting in the living room for them to hurry up, but every shirt they put on laid weird on their body, even their favorite band tee. It was just going to be one of those days.
(Reader) left the bathroom mopey, struggling to look happy. Their attempt failed completely when Vince pulled out his phone to take a picture of them.
"Not today V."
"What? Why?! We never get to hang out anymore, and I want some pictures of us." The man whined, jokingly pouting to hide his real disappointment.
"I'm just..." (Reader) tugged on their shirt subconsciously, "not feeling it."
Vince's eyes narrowed, his joking demeanor fading into an empty glare (Reader) had never seen before, worrying them. "I can't do this. I wanted to do this the right way, but you're pissing me off."
Before (Reader) could question their friend he shoved his fingers into their mouth, pressing a bitter tasting pill into their throat and forcing it down. They tried to jump back, but Vince held (Reader's) head, clasping their mouth shut until they swallowed and holding them still until it kicked in. First their muscles grew heavy, then (Reader) couldn't hold their eyes open, collapsing into Vince's arms.
(Reader) woke up hours later, completely naked and hands chained to the ceiling above them, arms twisted in an angle where they couldn't pull up and dangling just high enough for their toes to touch the floor. In the dark of the cellar, Vince stood in front of (Reader) with his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his handsome face.
"Vince? Where am I...?"
"Mmm.. my house." Vince was uncharacteristically upset, his voice cold and eyes weary with frustration.
"Why-?"
"You know, I had this whole date planned out for us. I was finally going to confess to you." He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "But you're so damn insecure, I know if I told you today that I've been in love with you for the past seven years you wouldn't have believed me."
A strange ache stabbed into (Reader's) heart; a conflicting mixture of his congestion causing it to skip a beat and pain from their anxiety. He was right, they didn't deserve his love. Ignoring the fact that he had just kidnapped them, Vince was the most attractive man (Reader) had ever seen off the big screen.
"Vince, I-"
"So, before I officially confess to you, I need you feeling better about yourself, so you accept me." Vince walked over, a sick smile creeping over his features. "You are so fucking beautiful. I've never met anyone as sexy as you."
"Vince, I'm sorry... If you let me go we can pretend like this never happened.."
He cocked his head. "Why would I want to do that? I finally have you all to myself, and you want me to pretend like I've never had the privilege to see you like this?"
(Reader) sniffled, ashamed, both by how exposed they were and by his sweet talking. "Please stop-"
"You don't believe me.. That really hurts my feelings, (Reader). It was bad enough hearing you criticize the person I love all the goddamn time, but even now you're looking at me like I'm a liar." He pressed his nose against their cheek, inhaling their scent. "Which is so unfair, when you look good enough to eat."
His sharp canines bit into (Reader's) neck as his rough hands caressed their body, rubbing their chest and the spot between their shoulder blades. (Reader) cried out, both in surprise and from pain, before squirming in discomfort as he ran his tongue over his teeth marks.
Vince seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from licking (Reader's) neck, because he moved down, chasing the shivers he was sending down their body. His calloused palms gripped (Reader's) flesh, digging his fingers into their soft body selfishly. His hot muscle left wet trails down (Reader's) goosebumps, greedily tasting their body.
He left hickies from his sucking and biting, bruising their nipples from enthusiasm. Every time he latched on it was hard enough to draw blood, but was quick to soothe the stinging with kisses, cleaning the red droplets with his tongue. Vince ignored (Reader's) pleas and whines, enraptured by the taste he had dreamt of for so long.
"You are so beautiful.." He groaned dreamily, pawing at himself through his pants as he planted butterfly kisses down to (Reader's) hip, turned on by their shudders under his feather soft touches. Sliding into his knees, Vince gazed up at (Reader) with lust. "Please say that you believe me now."
"Vince.." (Reader) was torn between their embarrassment and how good they felt.
His lips attached to their sensitive skin right next to their groin, tickling them. The area was so sensitive to the touch that they arched their spine to get their pelvis away from the teasing kisses, but lost their footing, rocking back into Vince's face.
The man continued licking and kissing everywhere but (Reader's) genitalia, encouraged by their responsiveness. He wouldn't gift them release, not until they felt have much he craved their body.
"Do you believe me now?" His heavy panting against their skin was almost as unbearable as his spider light brushing.
Desperate to be let down, (Reader) whined "Yes! I believe you.."
"Does that mean you'll let me be your man?" Another kiss, closer towards their painful arousal. (Reader's) thighs quivered and butterflies erupted in their belly.
"Yes!"
"Because you know that I love you?" The fluid leaking down (Reader's) leg was licked off hungrily.
"God, yes!"
"And you love me too?"
"Yes! I love you, I love you too, Vince!"
As soon as he got his confirmation, (Reader's) legs were draped over his shoulders.
(Reader's) toes curled as Vince's tongue swirled around their most delicate parts, drinking in their essence. His mouth devoured (Reader), crushing his face with their pelvis, pulling them harder into his jaw, hands on their buttocks pushing them in.
"Vince, I'm gonna cum.." (Reader) pathetically whimpered, feeling his tongue fuck them faster.
A wave a shame followed their climax, insecure suddenly over their orgasm. But that brief thought immediately dissipated as Vince didn't stop, taking all of their juices and continuing his assault on their sensitive nerves, pushing them past the point of pleasure. Tears poured from (Reader's) eyes as they tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.
But Vince continued until he came, pulling away to breathe as he moaned out, staining his jeans. His face returned to the kind looking Vince (Reader) knew and adored, smiling up at (Reader) sweetly as though he hadn't just abducted and assaulted (Reader).
"Thank you for accepting my feelings, gorgeous."
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its-your-mind · 2 years
Text
“oh clearly jon feels no emotions and is in complete control of himself at all times. this man is a logic machine.”
did we??? listen to the same podcast?????? this man feels first, thinks later. there is a strong emotion? get ready for jonathan jarchivist sims to act on it with little-to-no second thoughts. rational thinking who. we throw ourselves full force at the first thought that comes into our head. like, we are talking about the man who:
busted into the office of a guy he hadn’t talked to more than twice since he woke up from a six month coma, sincerely offering to gouge out his eyes and run away with him, and was Absolutely Gobsmacked when he was refused
was prefectly ready to let a face-stealing monster live… right up until it reminded him that it had killed his friend without him realizing (that “…what did you say” is one of the lines that gives me GOOSEBUMPS every time)
dove headfirst into a pile of evil sentient worms to grab a tape recorder bc he was so determined to not die as aNOTHER GODDAMN MYSTERY
let his survivor’s guilt from when he was eight drive the major decisions he made for the rest of his life
threw himself into a fear dimension of evil loneliness to save the man he loved (who had refused to speak to him for months) at the probable expense of himself who knows
had so much MALICE in his voice when he killed peter lukas like damn girl you do not get that emotional when you’re just killing someone bc they’re evil or whatever. there was Hatred there. go off queen.
literally was willing to sacrifice an entire WORLD so that no one would ever f e e l what he had to feel when jonah voicesnatched him
LITERALLY speedran a love story in like six weeks in scotland. this man was SO READY to be in love it’s ridiculous. so was martin. I love them sm
heard his predecessor was dead
came to the conclusion that he was next
what should we do with this?
oh I know
stalk every one of my coworkers bc clearly one of them is out to get me
committed himself to living in the archives forever bc he didn’t want to put georgie or “god forbid the admiral” in danger (has his priorities STRAIGHT he does)
oh annabelle caine has martin? and an artifact that completely knocks me on my ass and takes away all my powers? off to hilltop road we go come on basira we have spider ass to kick
threw himself into a coffin to save a woman who LITERALLY was ABOUT TO KILL HIM bc he just wanted to HELP and everyone around him was HURTING SO MUCH
was insulted when a statement giver called the institute stupid and immediately discarded all professionalism and clapped back by calling her wildly successful youtube series dumb
also immediately discarded all professionalism when disgusted by a teeth apple “we do NOT want it.” like damn bro this traumatized doctor brought this bone apple teeth proof in for you and you are too grossed out to grin and bear it
was slightly annoyed by the fact that martin was not the Ideal Assistant. Offhandedly mentioned on an official recording that he wanted an evil flesh witch to slowly kill his literal employee by a series of freak accidents that resulted in the loss of one body part at a time. this man has no chill whatsoever.
took so much satisfaction in killing jonah magnus. like jonah told him not to be dramatic and jon PROMPTLY started monologuing while stabbing douchard directly in the chest.
“I don’t want to die”
“Neither did they.” FUCK YES QUEEN GO OFF GET HIS SMARMY VICTORIAN ASS
sounded so SMUG when he told the eye he was gonna go apologize to his boyfriend. like yeah stupid all-powerful fear god I have a BOYfriend and I LOVE him suck on THAT
remember when he decided to doom his whole world bc he wanted to stop anyone else from feeling like he did? yeah that plan went out the window fuckin imMEDIATely as soon as his beloved martin walked into the room. oh, he’s in the world I’m going to be dooming? well fuck didn’t consider that part. welp guess he’s just gonna have to stab me. and then we will hold each other and declare our love and kiss and hope to still be alive and together somehow as the world collapses around us. our love didn’t save us but it was here and that mattered. okay list cancelled I’m gonna go curl up in a ball for a little bit. ty for your time.
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