#rip rhythm & hues

[marissaofunderground]

tbh looking at every media ever someone behind the scenes has hurt ppl no matter what…..so….while I get not wanting to support a certain show because there is proof the creator has hurt a couple people, I also wanna point out…….

Pixar Animation Studios: Sexist history full of perverts in charge with no respect for women and treating female artists and employees like sex toys. Testimony:

How do you feel about Pixar classics now? As much as I still enjoy Toy Story I can’t deny I feel a little bad taste in the back of my throat knowing the creator is a pig. Makes it just a little more difficult watching those movies now….same with any other films, Pixar or Disney, that he was involved in….

Stuff Joss Whedon worked on, from Buffy to the first two Avengers movies. There’s lots of reports on this. Needless to say, I’m glad Marvel fired him.

She Who Must Not Be Named, the creator of the biggest franchise of a generation and the very destructor of said franchise. Like many, I’ve cut that book franchise out of my life entirely and refuse to ever engage with it again.

Phil Lord and Chris Miller pixel-fucked Sony Pictures Animation over the making of Across the Spider-Verse. You’d think they’d have a better understanding of how animated films are made, but their actions behind the scenes of this movie say otherwise.

Related to that, almost all animation studios screw over their workers, (including indie studios, yes, Spindlehorse is sadly one of them), who are overworked and underpaid. When the Animation Guild’s contract runs out next year, expect an animator’s strike that’s been long overdue.

And even more related to that, VFX artists are also screwed over by EVERYONE. They’re even the coiners of the term “pixel-fucking” that I used describing the treatment of the artists behind Spider-Verse. Marvel Studios is one of the worst offenders of this, especially when directors do not understand how to do VFX. And because VFX artists aren’t unionized (which they should be), they are often underpaid and overworked, and it is one of the most thankless jobs in Hollywood. I could write a whole essay on how the VFX industry is treated alone. It’s BAD.

And of course, anything under big corporations, who don’t give two shits about their workers and have no qualms replacing them with AI. Why do you think the SAG-AFTRA strike is going on right now? And none of them will budge.

Independent or not….no media is free from abuse or bad behavior. Almost seems like you gotta be awful to be successful. That’s sad, really…

But of course, many of these examples are related to either capitalism and executive meddling, the sexist culture we live in, and the abusive culture we live in.

[popamolly]

‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder

author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!

In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.

Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.

Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.

In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.

As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.

That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.

“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”

“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”

“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.

You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”

“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.

“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”

With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”

You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”

“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”

What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”

Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.

“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”

“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”

It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.

“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”

“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”

“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.

“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”

“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”

“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”

“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”

“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”

“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”

Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’

Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?

“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”

And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.

You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.

“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”

“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”

The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.

Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.

“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”

The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.

“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”

“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.

“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.

“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.

The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”

“600!” Another shouts.

“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”

Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”

“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.

“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”

Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”

“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”

“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.

The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”

Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

← Smutlet Masterlist

18+ Panty Dropping

Stark parties were always extravagant affairs. Black ties and cocktail dresses. Everyone was decked out to the nines. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off your sultry dress. The way it clung to your curves, accentuating every dip and swell. The shiny red material sparkled as you moved, swinging your hips to the beat of the tune that was playing. You had begged him to join you, fingers hooked into his belt loops as you urged him forwards. But Bucky was a soldier, trained to resist temptation. So, with determination, you stepped onto the dance floor, a solitary figure bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights.

“You go ahead, I'll watch.”

Bucky’s gaze traced the delicate line of your collarbones, the gentle curve of your waist. The crimson hue of the dress set his loins on fire, igniting a longing he hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just the color, it was the way it whispered secrets against your skin. You were a vision. And oh, how you moved. Fluid, like water coursing through a hidden stream. As the music swirled around you, you moved with grace, lost in the rhythm. The halter neck of the dress revealed just enough - the elegant slope of your shoulders, the arch of your back, the skin of your thighs.

Bucky clenched his fists, torn between the desire to join you versus the desire to carry you out of the building over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets, to hide his agitation. The last thing he needed was for Steve or Sam to come over and fuss over him. But the action didn’t bring about the result he expected. There was something unexpected as he slipped his hand into the concealed compartment of his pants. Bucky’s fingers closed around the silky material and he pulled out a lacy black thong. 

He stroked his thumb over the skimpy piece of lingerie, noting that it felt slightly damp. In a swift movement, he closed the item into his fist and brought it up to his nose, taking a whiff of your unique scent. Bucky felt a heat rise inside him and he felt his cock twitch dangerously. How dare you tease him?

You could feel his eyes on you. Almost like a sixth sense. You knew he had discovered the little gift you had left him. He beckoned you with the smallest gesture. You smiled, sauntering over.

“What do you think you're doing? Anyone could have seen this! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Bucky hissed in your ear, your underwear now in his metal fist. Never had he met another person who knew how to push his buttons. Your pokes and prods were so aptly timed and precisely calculated. When he was feeling sad, mad, excited or turned on. It was you - you held all the answers he had been seeking. The warmth of companionship, the thrill of surrender to his carnal urges. Wherever you led, he would follow.

“Where you going, Doll? Do you have any idea what you do to me? Dressed in this scrap of a dress? Is this turning you on? Teasing me with this? Getting me hard? Denying me the pleasure of ripping these off your pretty little pussy?”

A plant. Multiple large pots filled with bamboo shoots. Dense enough to hide two people. That is where he found himself. His hands all over you, on your waist, behind your neck, under the hem of your short skirt, between your soaked and uncovered folds. The candles that adorned the walls flickered and threatened to reveal your hideaway.

“Your cunt feels so good. Dripping for me already, Doll? And I haven't even let you get a taste of my cock yet. Want me to rub your clit, darling?”

Your whines were getting louder and louder. They had the potential to attract attention, despite the thumping music. Bucky spun you around, clamping a vibranium hand over your sinful mouth, keeping his flesh one nestled comfortably over your sensitive nub.

“My my, such a needy little thing, aren't we? Trying to get me all worked up by leaving your panties in my pocket? Well, darling, it worked. I'm going to fuck you right here, behind this plant. And unless you want to get caught, you're going to take it without making a sound. Got that, Doll?”

Bucky unzipped his pants. The fear of being seen suppressed by the flame of desire that engulfed him. He didn't hesitate in thrusting into you, reveling in the way your walls hugged him in the perfect way. He could hear his name tumbling from your lips, the sound vibrating through the metal. It didn't take long for him to spill his hot seed into your clenching cunt, as it begged for its own release. Bucky pulled out his cock as soon as he was done, pressing your thighs together as you moaned with frustration at being denied your climax.

“Now, now, darling. What did I say about making noise, huh? You don't get to cum until I say you do. Getting me all good and riled up at this stupid party. You'll have to suffer the consequences.”

You held out your hand for him to return your panties. But instead you were met with a devilish grin as Bucky stuffed them back into his pocket.

“No, Doll. These are mine. You’re coming home with me and I had better not see any mess spilling down your legs, or you'll be sorry you ever gave me these.”

[cheollipop]

Hiiiiii<3333 Im here for the hard hours

Lately I've been thinking abt breeding kink with mingi. Like picture tighing him up to the head board and riding him during one of your risky days. And you just keep going and going just being relentless at some point he knows he's going to burst so he's BEGGING you not to make him cum. like full crying and whining his normally deep voice cracking and breaking because you did stop and his big huge cock is just throbbing inside you amd he's frustrated but then again he actually asked (begged) you to stop so he's the only one to blame here ORRRR worse (= better hehe) you do force him to cum inside you and it's just a mess. So much cum and tears 🥵🥵🥵

I'm totally normal about this man........ don't even need therapy or anything 🙃🙃

I'm so sorry for getting to this so late :( I ran out of steam but now I'm feeling better and ready to write the subbiest, whiniest mingi for you my love. no dubcon in this! happy reading~~

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

in the solace of your bedroom, the moonlight illuminating through the chiffon curtains to cast blueish hues over slick skin, the bed creaked under your added weight as you grazed your knuckles over mingi's heaving chest, a pretty shade of pink tinting the smooth skin. your eyes fluttered shut, and you allowed the breathy, high-pitched whines, the muttered mixture of pleads and curses, to envelop your every sense.

the rapid rhythm of skin-on-skin reverberated in the dark room, working your hips over mingi with tandem, his cock sheathed deep within you as you rocked back and forth, pulling off halfway before slamming back down. pleasure shot up your spine as his twitching cockhead grazed over your g-spot with every grind, your walls squeezing around him to elicit needy moans from plush lips.

"y/n, please, I can't-" you rolled your thumb over one of his nipples, interrupting his whining with a muted 'ah'. "I-I'm not gonna last."

you smiled at the concern painting his face, your hips slowing down their ruthless pace so you could lower yourself over him, adhering your chest to his and gazing into his eyes while your hips drew languid circles.

"you want me to stop?" you emphasized your pout, drawing your eyebrows in while you stared at the man under you.

large hands grabbed onto the silk ribbon tying them to the bedhead, tugging uselessly, "I don't, I really don't. just- it's dangerous, sweetheart."

you rolled your hips forward again, slipping an inch off of his cock before sliding it back inside your tight heat, "thought you wanted a baby," you pursed your lips further. one hand slid down his torso to where his cock disappeared inside you, gliding up your mound to your lower belly and pressing the heel of your palm into the soft skin, pushing against the bulging tip of his cock, twitching underneath your flesh.

his head rolled back against the pillow, a deep groan ripping through his chest as you moved your palm over the hard outline of his cock. "I do- fuck, but are we ready?"

you leaned over him, breathing over his chin while looking up, eyes glazed over with burning want. "yeah, baby, 'want you to fill me up all the way," you placed a tender kiss over his jawline, "over and over again until I'm all swollen for you."

you could feel his throbbing length inside you, the twitch of his thighs under you alerting you of his turbulent arousal. "(y/n)-"

"want them to have your eyes," one hand cupped his face, smoothing a thumb over his left eyebrow, "and your nose," you pecked the tip of his nose, "and your laugh," a fleeting kiss over the plush of his lips, you moved back to eye his dazed expression before going back in for more.

the warmth of your cunt surrounding him, the insistent squeeze around his girth, your mouth moving over his, tongue swiping over his bottom lip—mingi's world, his thoughts, feelings, senses, they all reduced to you. your heat, your skin, your touch, your voice. he tugged against the silk ribbon once, twice, before giving up, digging his feet into the mattress under him to buck his hips upwards and into you. desperate thrusts into your soaked cunt paired with a blend of airy moans and throaty grunts echoed between the four walls, your downstairs neighbours catching the melody slipping through the cracked-open window.

the familiar twitch of his cock between your walls and the pretty flush painting his chest were enough warning of his approaching orgasm, your hips lifting off him and his length slapping against his lower belly. he was left impetuously thrusting into open air, a noise of confusion escaping his parted lips.

"please, (y/n), I'm so close," he whined, trembling under you as his high dwindled down, cold air brushing over his slicked-up cock. "let me stuff you full, baby. make you nice and pregnant for me, yeah? you want that, right?"

a wave of arousal rushed through you and straight down to your core, your pussy gushing until it dripped down the sides of your thighs. "but I thought you weren't ready," you pouted in dejection.

"I am! fuck- I promise, I am! 'want our kids to be just like you—kind, beautiful, understanding," his hips jolted upwards inadvertently, the deep baritone of his voice rising a few octaves, occasionally breaking as he whined under you. "if it's with you, I'm ready for anything."

a shared exhale mingled in the small gap between your faces as you slid down mingi's length again, your eyes fluttering shut at the brush of his cockhead against your g-spot. you pried them open again, not wanting to miss the change in mingi's expression—from desperation, to relief, to the rawest forms of lust. you pawed at his wrists, pulling at the ribbon tying them firmly until it slipped off. with his hands now free, he reached down to grab at your hips before the blood could make it to his appendages. your thoughts faded into nothing, deaf to anything but the sound of skin slapping on skin combined with mingi's soft moans, his deep groans dropping to mere whimpers of need.

constant shots of pleasure seared up your spine, your clit rubbing harshly over mingi's pelvis while he fucked into you, your vision going black as you came on his cock with a strangled cry, your walls clamping around him as he continued to chase his orgasm despite your pained mewls.

it took a few more frantic thrusts before mingi's nails pressed thin crescents into your skin, his hips stuttering as hot ropes of cum shot between your pulsing walls, holding you down on his cock while he unloaded all he had deep inside you. and all he had was a lot, his seed seeping past your stretched hole from the sheer amount he was feeding into your womb.

"ngh- fuck. mingi, it's so much," you breathed out.

the pain from overstimulation dulled when you took in the tears making their way down the sides of mingi's face—pearlescent streaks reflecting the moonlight pouring out of the open blinds. "i-it won't stop coming out, ah- all for you, baby," he rolled his hips to push himself further inside you, his cockhead spasming once as it shot out its last spurt of cum.

you laid there in the aftershocks, your thighs trembling around mingi's hips while your body rocked with every intake of breath, his chest moving steadily under your head. his release trickled out of you in small beads, mingi's cock still plugged inside your used cunt to keep the majority of it inside. gentle fingers squeezed at your hips, sliding upwards to your mid-back and down to soothe your aching muscles.

it was when sleep tugged your eyelids shut that mingi grew restless again, and through the thick haze of fatigue, you noticed his cock chubbing up inside you. your body slowly rolled sideways with mingi's until it made contact with the sheets, warm where he'd been laying. he towered over you, pressing his hips to yours with his glazed-over eyes fixed on your face.

"want you," he whimpered, one hand on your hip while the other cupped your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheekbone.

"mingi-"

"want you so bad, baby," he ground his cock inside you, biting his lip at the squelch of his cum between your walls. you moaned breathily at the feeling, your eyes finding mingi's before he leaned down to place another kiss to your forehead. "wanna see you swollen with my babies," he panted, his thumb finding your swollen clit and drawing slow circles over it. "gotta make sure I fill you up properly."

[sunkendreams]

reflections.

➾ pairing ; david x fem!reader.

in which david decides to have his way — in front of a mirror. of course, the main attraction is you.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.8K.

WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), mirror sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mild bloodplay (he’s a vampire), biting, hair-pulling, groping, teasing, dirty talk, pet names (use of kitten and sweetheart), rough sex, bruising/marking, choking, david is an asshole (but he’s hot), naked female, clothed male, fingering (f!receiving), finger-sucking, breastplay, begging, multiple positions, mind reading, making out, possessive & obsessive behavior from david

AUTHOR’S NOTE: so this was a request but I deleted it by accident (mega sorry !!) whoever sent this in, thank you for your service because this was ridiculously hot and so fun to write! thank you all for your love and support, i promise that I will try to post more often! still working on requests! ❤️

A soft, simpering moan reverberated throughout your cavernous alcove, hands balled up into tight, clenched fists as you tugged at your sheets. Even as you slept, someone toyed with your mind — David had quite the habit for making you see whatever he wanted in your dreams. They were never terrifying or intended to frighten you, but oh, were they cruel.

When you ripped yourself out of your blissful slumber, your flesh was crawling with a misty perspiration, from the intensity and the subject matter. It was something salacious — David fucking you into oblivion, your mind consumed whole by those golden-orange eyes.

You felt dirty for dreaming of such a thing, but in the presence of mind-reading vampires, especially ones that could manipulate your thoughts, it was bound to happen. David enjoyed using that sway on you in the name of playfulness, but he used it to torment you, too.

Tangled within a snare of sheets, you sat up, adjusting your nightshirt. David had a penchant for making you wear things that belonged to him, covering you in his scent. It was a tattered black t-shirt that hadn’t seen daylight in many years, you suspected.

The cavern was unnaturally silent, lacking the rancor and energy that the boys brought to it. It was just you, alone within your nest, distraught by your dreams.

David’s hold upon you was nothing short of supernatural, and the bond that you shared only strengthened his unorthodox abilities. His voice rang throughout your mind, crisp and clear as if he were merely standing a few feet away. You pictured his sardonic laughter and his charismatic sneer.

Glistening rays of moonlight pooled through the gap in the top of the cave, indicating that it was dusk. You assumed that they all must’ve been at the boardwalk, indulging in their vices and feeding frenzy.

With your humanity still intact, your circadian rhythm was quite different from that of your vampiric compatriots, but you were still learning to be on their time — David, in particular. You began to fix your bed, untangling yourself from the snare of sheets. Faint noises echoed throughout the cavern, the only ambiance you had.

A brief clatter caused you to jump, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. You were more tense than usual, still feeling very disoriented and dazed from your onslaught of dreams. Sometimes, you hated them — hated that David tormented you in such a way.

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, resulting in a warm wave of arousal that pooled between your thighs. You pinched at the bridge of your nose, half-tempted to lay down and let your hand do all of the work in an attempt to chase some sort of release.

Before you could even consider it fully, a bout of alluring laughter resonated from the darkness above, an expanse of cavernous abyss untouched by light. The shadows were alive, stirring with a familiar presence as sanguine-orange hues observed you with a cruelty to them; a cruelty you knew.

“Poor thing,” David crooned, haughtily perched in the rocks above your nest, watching you with a visceral interest. You looked so pretty — all pent-up and disheveled, bearing his scent upon your supple flesh. It was how he liked you. “Bad dreams?”

You scoffed, attempting to feign disdain, but the veil was thin — you were flustered and hot, arms loosely folding within your lap. “How long have you been up there?” You asked, throat becoming thick. You knew that David must’ve gotten his fill of watching you thrash about, your mind swarming with him.

David’s dark, enticing chuckle resonated throughout the alcove. You could envision his smug, arrogant expression — a face you’d grown to love, unfortunately for you. “Long enough,” He mused, clicking his tongue. “Long enough to smell you.” His teasing tone only made you embarrassed.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You grumbled, but realization struck you — he was here with you, alone. He’d let the boys go out without their leader, unchaperoned and off the leash. That was extremely unusual for David, and it made you wonder.

“Is that why you keep coming back, kitten?” David mused, leaning forward until he broke through the shadows, glowering down at you with an incendiary expression. That playful mockery still remained, but the wave of desire festering inside of him began to overpower anything else.

You held your tongue, gazing up at him with a wistful sense of longing. Despite David’s crueler proclivities and cocksure attitude, you did love him — he was yours, after all. Those piercing, icy eyes of his raked over you, jaw tensing and unclenching.

“Please come down,” Desperation crept into your voice, shameless and unadulterated as you pressed your thighs together, attempting to fight away your arousal. Your fingers idly toyed with the hem of your shirt, hoping that he would comply with your request. “I—I need you.”

David smirked, a fire swirling within his eyes as he cocked his head to one side. “Is that so, sweetheart?” He hummed, slinking down from his perch as he stood in front of you, reaching out to grab your jaw with his gloved digits. He traced his thumb over your lower lip.

“Yes,” You squeaked, keening into his embrace. He looked so intimidating and imposing like this — dressed in dark colors, eclipsing all flickers of candlelight as his shadow fell over you. It enveloped you, kept you anchored. “David, please. I want you.”

“I know you do,” He uttered. “You belong to me.” His voice — it was enchanting, like a siren’s song, tempting you into deeper waters. David began to lean forward, inhaling your scent as he brazenly nipped at your jaw. “Wet from the thought of me, aren’t you?”

Your head bobbed up and down several times over in a fervent nod, feeling him come closer, mouth hovering above yours. Saliva coalesced within your mouth, lips practically clamoring for him, and he let you. You kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.

His hand grabbed at the nape of your neck, hard enough to bruise as he pulled you forward, all teeth and tongue, domineering as ever. David’s throat burst with a snarl, chest rumbling as he bit at your lower lip. The whimpering sound that emerged from you only poured fuel onto the fire, igniting lust and desire.

In a frenzy, you grabbed at his coat, hands pushing themselves against his chest. You were itching for a release, for some sliver of friction or attention. David started this mess — you wanted him to finish it.

The sound of his sneering laughter as he grinned into your mouth made you tense up, watching as he drew away just enough to see you. “My mess?” He clicked his tongue, teeth catching around his glove as he pried it off, hand immediately snaking toward the juncture between your legs, underneath your underwear.

As soon as those thick digits slid against your slick cunt, you knew that you were in for it. Your heart began to beat erratically, wrought with excitement as you let out a hapless moan. “David, I— Please!” Those simpering pleas of yours were met with an enticing grin as he dragged his teeth along your neck.

“This is your mess,” David corrected, shamelessly bullying his way into your thoughts. There was plenty for him to peruse through — your sheepish fantasies, memories, and embarrassment. He savored it all, licking his lips like a cat who’d caught the canary. “Why should I clean up after you?”

Humanity was a blessing — yours, at least.

David could’ve licked your sweet skin and tasted your excitement, delighted by the little hitch in your throat and the way you squirmed. There was something intoxicating about you, about your fragility and ability to be molded, to be manipulated — to become his.

Your lips parted, eyes wide and doe-like as you ground your hips into his fingers. He couldn’t help but laugh, pushing you down onto the mattress as he loomed above, thumb flicking your clit with a feather-light sensation. It was just enough to keep you wanting more of it, chasing after it.

“Please!” You didn’t care if it seemed pathetic — you only wanted him. “Please, David! I—I’ll do anything, I just need you!” His countenance was characteristically smug and bemused, cerulean hues dancing with a fervor that made you shudder with delight.

“You’ll do anything,” David parroted, gaze flickering toward the large, tarnished mirror that sat across from your bed. The only image present was you, splayed out for him — his mind began to churn with an idea. “I think you’ll like this.”

With inhuman strength, David plucked you up as if you weighed nothing, turning you around to face the mirror, keeping your back pinned against his chest. It was just your reflection — disheveled, pupils dilated with lust, shirt rucked up around your hips.

He squeezed your throat with one hand, the other languidly dancing across your cunt, digits toying with your clit. “David,” You whined, feeling him recoil, only to remove your panties altogether with a simple snap of his wrist, tearing the fabric asunder. “W—What are you doing?” You slurred, shivering when his teeth snagged your earlobe.

“Making sure that you see yourself, kitten.” David purred, biting down on the sensitive flesh of your ear, breath ghosting along the cartilage. “You look perfect like this,” His murmured, voice dropping to a husky octave as he finally began to sink his fingers into you. “I want you to watch.”

A wave of pressure assaulted your lower jaw as David turned your face towards the mirror, and you wanted to shy away from it all. It was awkward and unusual, but there was something wildly attractive about it at the same time. You could feel his thumb circle your clit, fingers seeking your entrance.

His stubbled jaw scraped across your silky flesh, causing you to shudder in excitement. Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. The mirror was glaring, a few feet across from you — even with him touching you, you were in ecstasy.

“David,” You sighed, throat bobbing underneath his palm as he applied a barrage of pressure, fingers beginning to find a rather brutal rhythm. He pistoned them in and out of your tight cunt, thumb occasionally flicking over your clit for added pleasure. You rocked against him, his physique cold beneath his clothing, akin to a marble statue — hard and unyielding. “Feels so good.”

The soft lull of his dark laughter made you shiver, hips jolting and keening into the sensation of his fingers. He showered you in vigorous kisses, mouth roaming across the expanse of your neck and shoulder. David began to bite at your flesh, soothing it over with the chill of his tongue.

Your hand grasped at his forearm, using it as a crutch as he continued to finger-fuck you, pace having increased to something vigorous. The white-hot intensity only served to make your legs buckle, liquid heat oozing between your legs. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you.

“Good girl,” David murmured, visage buried against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. You whimpered, cunt tight and hot around his fingers. You were a mess — his little human, his thrall. “Such a desperate little thing.”

He squeezed at your jaw, harshly angling your mouth toward his, lips colliding in a blaze of teeth and tongue. Those sharp fangs momentarily caught your lower lip, withdrawing a pearl of crimson. David eagerly lapped at your cruor with a lustful expression, eyes unnaturally bright.

Between the sensation of his digits pistoning in and out of your cunt and his tongue invading your maw, you very nearly collapsed. That familiar ringing of his laughter reverberated throughout your mind, causing you to moan into another heated kiss.

David’s hand wandered from your throat to your chest, pinching at one of your nipples. It was cruel, with enough force to make you writhe as he groped at the swell of your breast. He contorted you, bent you however and wherever he pleased. Your reflection in the mirror was one of complete and utter submission.

He began to curl his fingers, forcing his way inside of your cunt once more. Molten heat oozed around his digits, which he seemed eager to taste, once he’d had his fun with you. David playfully nipped at your jaw, palm kneading into your chest as he kept you pinned to his chest; nowhere to go.

A hapless, wanton moan escaped you, causing you to careen backward, snug against him. David growled, erection digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience — you, on the other hand, not so much.

“You want the others to hear you?” David inquired, voice sharp and commanding, making you tremble beneath his grasp. Those glistening fangs of his tauntingly scraped across your flesh again, cerulean hues replaced with orange-red irises.

You immediately shook your head, wondering if the boys were back — you were too absorbed within your own satisfaction to notice. A pang of embarrassment washed through you, causing your flesh to become blistering hot.

David chuckled, pinching at your nipple again, which only served to make you yelp. “I think you do, kitten.” He purred, his tone alluring and husky, ghosting above the shell of your ear. “Should I ask Dwayne if he’d like to join?” You knew that he was somewhat serious.

“N—No! I just want you, David,” You mewled, gasping when his thumb rolled over your clit, having abandoned it for so long. “Please!” Admittedly, the thought of having one of them partake alongside David was tantalizing, but you felt too flustered to go through with it.

“You’re not a very good liar.” David chided, moving inwards for another kiss before he twisted you back in the direction of the mirror. He was hellbent on making you watch, grin akin to that of a ravenous wolf as he withdrew his digits from your cunt. “Open.”

His command was met with an instantaneous response as your lips parted, breath hitching within your throat as David moved to place his fingers upon your tongue. He made sure that you were watching, gaze hawkish and calculating as you sucked on his digits.

You could taste yourself, thighs quivering from your denied orgasm. David always built you up, only to rip it away at the very end, but he had other intentions. He pressed his digits toward the back of your throat, nearly laughing when you sputtered and gagged.

“Good,” He hummed, slipping one hand toward his pants to free his cock, grinding himself against you a time or two, allowing you to feel. “Keep watching, kitten. We’re almost there.” David growled, biting at your neck again with a blatant roughness.

The position remained the same, your back caged in against his chest as he guided himself toward your entrance, replacing his fingers with his cock. David was rarely gentle with you, preferring to unleash his desire and aggression — and you were beyond satisfied with that.

There was love and possessiveness interlaced in his ministrations, even if he didn’t fully realize it. David bullied his way in between your thighs, cock slipping into your tight cunt with a sudden amount of force. His hand returned to your throat as the other palm began grabbing at your thigh as he hitched it up.

Candlelight flickered throughout the alcove, dancing across your physique, basking you in an orange glow. The mirror glared back at you, allowing you to see what David had intended for the entirety of your time together.

His cock slipped in and out of your cunt with ease, rutting into you with a force that was nothing short of brutal and unyielding. David’s breath fanned across the crook of your neck, fangs continuing to linger there as he intermingled rough kisses and bites across your flesh. If blood emerged, he lapped it up like a starving animal.

“David,” You whined, locked within his vice-like grip. His leather-clad arms bracketed you against him, not allowing for much space whatsoever. Molten heat oozed freely from between your legs as you coated his cock in your arousal. “P—Please don’t stop!”

With a low, rumbling grunt, he shoved his hips forward once again, pushing his way into you. His cock was buried deep within your cunt, and David developed a rhythm of almost pulling out before fucking his way back into you. His fingertips prodded and kneaded all around your body, leaving bruises in tender places.

The glassy glare of the mirror only revealed your reflection — disheveled, reduced to a quivering, moaning mess as David had his way with you. Your eyes flickered toward the slate of glass, and the sight of you was messy, at best. David didn’t think so, but you did.

Your thoughts were practically screaming, aching for him in every way imaginable. David had difficulty keeping himself out, lips parting as he sucked another messy hickey into your neck. Your cunt clenched around his cock when he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a chuckle from him.

A canvas — that’s what you’d become. Your flesh served as a supple expanse for David to mark and toy with, savoring the way you submitted to him so very easily. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, coupled with the sting of sex and arousal.

“I want to kiss you,” You moaned, hoping that he would comply with your request. The way in which he fucked you now, all contorted and unable to see him, made you incredibly frustrated. David knew this, able to smell your mounting agitation. “Please.”

Under certain circumstances, David would’ve denied you and simply put you on all fours to prove a point, but some sliver of him wanted to see your face when he fucked you. Wordlessly, he pulled himself out, seconds apart as he pushed you down onto the bed, making sure you were on your back this time.

“I suppose you’ve earned it,” David hummed, his stare igniting with a newfound wave of lust as he surveyed your naked frame. He pushed his way in between your legs, crawling on top of you like a dark shadow. His cock prodded at your slick cunt, forcing its way back inside as he resumed his rough pace. “Go on, kitten.”

His voice was intoxicating — always spoken through the alluring roll of his tongue, emerging from between pearlescent teeth. David snickered when you clamored forward, hands tugging him down, mouth desperately latching onto his as you kissed him.

David snarled into your mouth, chest bubbling with a series of grunts as he fucked into you, rutting away at your tight cunt. He felt your knees squeeze at his clothed hips, fingers reaching for his platinum-blonde tresses. As soon as you pulled, his lips twitched into a smirk.

It was all teeth and tongue and unrequited want, with David pounding himself into you until he couldn’t go any further. His cock throbbed inside of you, eased by your slick as he bit at your lower lip.

One hand gripped at your thigh, hard enough to leave behind imprints as the other tangled around your throat yet again. The mirror showed a rather lascivious scene, of you being ravaged and fucked by some unforeseen force. To the untrained eye, it would’ve looked unnatural or downright terrifying.

“Getting close?” David uttered, watching as you nodded several times over. The pleasure from his fingers before had collided into the sensations you felt presently. His laughter was wolfish, accompanied by the faint curl of his lips as he pushed his hips forward.

“David!” You moaned, watching as he bent his head toward your chest, ravaging your collarbone in a series of rough kisses. Fangs nicked your supple flesh, visage buried beside your heart, beating just above your breast. With a brusque tug of his hair, you rolled your body into him, yearning for the friction.

Your vampiric paramour never relented, mouth tangling around one of your breasts as he bit at your nipple. A shrill whimper escaped you, hands clawing at his spiked tresses, clamoring for the nape of his neck. With another snap of his hips, your body became awash with pleasure.

An idle, satisfied hum escaped his lips, which continued to nibble and suck at your breasts. “That’s it,” David purred, a growl ripping through his throat as he fucked into you again. “Cum for me, kitten.” It wasn’t a statement — it was a command, one that you obeyed without effort.

It was supernatural, the power he exuded over you — and you were powerless to resist, slipping underneath the thrall of his spell. Your back arched into him, cunt clenching around his cock as you faded away into the white-hot abyss of your orgasm.

Carnal delight swirled through you, molten heat coalescing between your thighs as David rut into you, fucking you through it before he came inside of you. He didn’t need to breathe or compose himself — not like you did, trembling in the aftermath of your release.

David withdrew from you, watching as you sheepishly reached for your shirt. He stepped forward, cupping your jaw within his palm, able to feel the scorching heat of your flesh against his icy fingertips.

“Will you stay this time?” You murmured, keening into his embrace as his thumb traced across your lower lip. David often disappeared afterwards, whether it was to feed or do something else entirely. He occasionally sat in a velvet chair to placate you, but he was having a change of heart.

“Is that what you want?” David inquired, and once you nodded, he didn’t say anything else, wordlessly sitting on the edge of the mattress as you laid down. He wasn’t exactly the pillow-talk sort, but this would do — it was the closest he’d ever been.

You moved until he was within arm’s reach, feeling his leather-clad digits trace the curve of your jaw. Even if David’s callousness and cruelty was always predominant, you were fortunate to see him like this — somewhat docile and protective.

When David glanced toward the mirror, the only thing he saw was you — and that was how he wanted it to be. Just you and him, for all eternity.

[doumadono]

Hard-earned - Douma x Reader

Warnings: pure smut w/o plot, dirty talking, modern AU

Synopsis: you and Douma are enjoying a pleasant time in the shower

MASTERLIST

Your mind was clouded with desire, and you felt an intense need for pleasure. Your body quivered with anticipation, urging you to break the rules you had set for yourself. The sensation of Douma eating your ass had stirred up a hunger within you, and you found yourself craving his cock inside you even more. The thought of him pounding your ass made your pussy clench with desire, and you couldn't help but bite your lip in response.

Douma loomed over you, his muscles glistening with water, and his erect member aimed right at you. His eyes, with their rainbow-like hues, burned into your soul as he stared down at you. “Why do you doll yourself up when you know you're going to be violated?” He mocked, running his hand through his damp hair.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped.

He had traced his finger along your sensitive folds, not quite penetrating nor touching your clit. Despite the light touch, it was enough to short-circuit your brain at this point.

"Fuck, Douma," you gasped, gazing up at him, "Please. Please, don't tease me."

He grinned, then raised an eyebrow.

As he touched your lips with a single finger, you let out a gasp. He pressed down gently, parting your lips and slipping the digit inside, teasing the sensitive walls within.

"Wouldn't you like me to warm you up first? The shower might not be enough to ensure everything is properly slippery,” Douma teased again, grinning widely.

You nibbled on your lip while Douma teased your craving pussy with his fingers, causing your eyes to flutter in pleasure. His words were a blur in your mind as you were consumed by the intense arousal. With your mind clouded by pleasure, you turned over to present your ass to him, crossing your arms before your head and resting on the rim of the tub. "Fuck me," you begged, "Fuck me, Douma. Please. Fuck me hard."

To you, the moment between the words leaving your mouth and Douma's hands grabbing your ass felt like an eternity. You moaned when the tip of his hard cock brushed against your slippery lips.

You imagined the mischievous grin on Douma's face just before your mind went blank from the sensation of his sizable manhood stretching and filling you entirely, balls slapping against your clit. “How does it feel to be my property? Tell me you love it, Y/N.”

"Oh, fuck! Yes! I love it, Douma!" You gasped, your entire body quivering at the near-overwhelming sensation of Douma filling your so completely, "Yes, fuck! Fuck me, Douma!"

You whimpered as he withdrew the full length of his dick, leaving only the tip inside your wet cunt, then growled as he thrust it back inside you, though not as hard or as deep as before.

After a few hesitant thrusts, Douma finally found a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through your body. Each thrust stretched you further and made your mind foggy with desire. As he picked up the pace, the sound of his balls slapping against you echoed in the room. Every drop of water that hit your skin felt like it was sizzling with heat, adding to the intensity of the moment. “Let me fuck you like the whore we both know you are,” Douma whispered, running his fingertips up and down the curve of your spine.

"Fuck," you hissed, another orgasm building inside your already. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck me harder. So…"

Fortunately, Douma's firm grip on your hips kept you standing. He continued to push his massive, hard member inside you as your pussy clenched around him, each thrust extending your climax. Your heart raced, thudding against your chest, and your vision blurred with colors as you squeezed your eyes shut.

As your orgasm ripped through you, your final word transformed into a raspy, animalistic moan. Your legs quivered, your heart racing, nearly causing you to collapse to the ground.

Smack. Smack.

As the sudden sting hit your ass, you gasped, feeling the sensation twist the flavor of your orgasm and making it even more intoxicating.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, yes!”

As Douma thrust his hips against yours, your legs trembled with each movement. He emphasized every few strokes with a resounding smack, alternating your cheeks.

You were almost drooling from Douma's attention to your body, feeling certain that your arousal had left you soaking wet. The sensation of having your ass smacked alone was enough to turn you on, but the fact that Douma was doing it without being asked, purely because he wanted to and could, made it even hotter.

You cursed inwardly, thinking, If he keeps this up, I'm going to end up as a mindless sex toy. But at the moment, that didn't seem like such a bad fate, as long as you got to drift off in his embrace afterwards.

You became completely disoriented as Douma kept on fucking you. The intense pleasure consumed your whole being, focusing entirely on your hips where Douma gripped and spanked your buttocks, while his cock moved in and out of you like a well-oiled machine.

Did I cum again? Did I ever stop coming in the first place? You had no clue, and you didn't care. 

As Douma continued to thrust his cock in and out of your tight, needy hole, pounding the back of your pussy in just the right way to make stars burst to life before your eyes with every thrust, you started to slip.

As you tried to maintain your position, a whimper escaped your lips. However, with the water, steam, and the sensation of Douma's cock inside you, it became impossible to concentrate on anything else. Your arms slipped from their perch on the rim of the tub, unable to hold on any longer. "Oh, fuck!" You let out a deep, throaty moan as you slid out of your position and pressed your back against Douma. 

He buried his cock completely inside you and pressed his hips against your ass. The sensation was so intense that you couldn't help but moan. "Y/N?" Douma asked, "You alright?"

"Just…" You swallowed the lump in your throat before continuing to speak, "Just keep fucking me. I want to feel you explode inside of me, baby."

Douma paused for a moment, but soon resumed moving his hips. As he thrusted, you let out a moan of pleasure, but he struggled to find the same rhythm as before -the angle wasn't quite right to penetrate your thigh cunt properly.

When he withdrew, you let out a sad whimper.

"I'll be right back," he uttered, "I have an idea."

You gasped when Douma smacked your ass.

As the minutes passed without Douma touching you, you got impatient. You pushed yourself up to peer out of the shower and blinked when you saw Douma kneeling next to it. He had spread out towels on top of each other and placed them on both floor mats. You couldn't help but notice that he looked a bit drier than he should have been.

Douma caught your gaze and grinned, holding out a hand to you.

You allowed Douma to assist you in getting out of the shower and onto the towels, which were damp but fluffy and warm. Looking up at Douma, you were a bit perplexed, not wanting to end the moment just because you couldn't support yourself any longer. Suddenly, your eyes widened as Douma positioned himself over you and you gasped as his cockhead pressed against your dripping lips.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, shivering with anticipation, "Yes. Fuck, yes!"

As Douma knelt over you, with his elbows on either side of your head, you let out a moan as he started to move his hips, his hard cock sliding between your lips and into your needy hole, stretching you out with every in. “You're going to be my fuckdoll, an inanimate avaricious hole for me to cram with my cock, my sweet, little lotus.”

You wrapped your arms and legs around Douma almost without thinking about it, pulling him closer, wanting him - needing him - completely inside you, making you feel so wonderfully full.

As you used your heels to push his hips deeper, a grin spread across his face. He gently brushed away the damp strands of hair that clung to your face before leaning in to give you a passionate kiss as he filled you up entirely.

You let out a gasp as Douma's lips met yours. Seizing the moment, he slipped his tongue into your mouth and sucked on your bottom lip. All the while, he remained completely inside you, his balls resting against your buttocks. The sensation was intense and electric, sending shivers down your spine. "Fuck me," you begged against his lips between kisses, "Fuck me, please. I need your cum inside me."

As Douma grinned against your lips, you gasped at the sensation of his hips moving and his cock withdrawing. With only the tip remaining between your lips, he then slammed his hips back against yours.

As you gazed up at the ceiling, a moan escaped your lips, and your body arched with pleasure. It was a position that would have been impossible with anyone else; it allowed Douma to penetrate you deeply and hit all the right spots. He continued to pound into you, increasing in speed and intensity until your mind could only focus on the pleasure he brought you. The feeling was overwhelming, and you nearly forgot to breathe several times.

You were completely consumed by the connection between you and Douma, and you could hardly tell when his thrusts grew more frantic. Your body responded in anticipation, and a growl escaped your throat as your pussy tightened around him.

“Yes. Fuck, please. Fucking cum inside me. I need your cum. Cum, Douma. Fucking cum inside me, please.” You weren't sure if the words had just echoed in your mind or if you had actually screamed them loud enough for his followers to hear over the sound of the shower. 

Then Douma seated himself fully inside you, and it happened.

As Douma's member stretched you, you could feel every pulse as he climaxed hard. With each eruption of his warm seed filling your pussy, waves of pleasure and comfort washed over you. As he continued to pulse inside you, you found yourself reaching another orgasm, your walls clenching and spasming around his shaft, milking him of his hot cum.

“My cum. Mine. I fucking earned it,” you whimpered, your face flushed as you gazed up at his rainbow eyes. “I love you, Douma.”

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

pairing: steddie x fem!reader

warnings: cnc, predator/prey dynamic, blood mention (i think that’s it, please lmk if not.)

Your lungs were burning. Sucking in cold air hard enough that your chest felt it may burst at the seams. Your legs were equally aflame as they carried you through the wooded area of Lover’s Lake fast as they dared. You could feel their eyes on you; predators slowly biding their time. And it sent a thrill through you. You didn’t dare stop, even when you could hear their cat calls, their taunts, carried on the chilly wind.

You knew they’d catch you soon. They wanted you to have your bit of fun, to play out your fantasy as the helpless little rabbit.

You run for another five minutes, finally having to stop, you lean back against a particularly gnarled tree trunk, sucking in air into your oxygen starved lungs. Your body is covered in a sheen of cold sweat, clothes clinging to you as you try to reign control of the rapid thumping in your chest.

A snap of twigs to your left catches your attention, head whipping round. You’re greeted by the Cheshire Cat grin of Eddie, all teeth and so very smug. His hands are behind his back as he leisurely closes the distance between you. “Gotcha.”

“Not yet.” You snip, turning on your heel to begin the pursuit again but you’re met with something solid, something warm. And you bounce half a step back only to be met by Steve Harrington’s questioning brow. With the trained quickness of a learned athlete, he grabs a hold of your upper arm, bringing you to his chest.

“You were saying?”

You put a fight. A damn good fight. Both Steve and Eddie are impressed at how you’re able to land some solid hits, even drawing blood. Scraped fingernails claw against Eddie’s cheek, crimson blooming, dripping down to his lips. He holds your gaze as he licks them clean, securing handcuffs to your wrists.

“I know we said we’d bring her back to the van, but…”

“Here?” Steve looks around. But you all are quite alone, save for the things that go bump in the night.

“Here,” Eddie affirms. “You wanna be treated like an animal, sweetheart? Then we’ll fuck you like one.” His and Steve’s hands tear your clothes, groping appreciatively, the sound of ripping fabric permeating the air. They make quick work of it, leaving you in tatters. The swell of your breasts heave and you try to cross your legs to hide yourself from their hungry gaze.

Steve clicks his tongue, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “Gone all shy now, huh?”

They show you no mercy. Eddie ruts into you from the back, hand wrapped around your throat as he slams into you over and over, slick coating your thighs. You choke on your moans; his pierced cock finding that spot inside of you that turns you into nothing but a mindless hole.

Through your blurred vision you see Steve, tight acid-wash jeans pushed down as he fists his cock. His lips are parted, a rosy hue to his cheeks. Eddie bends you, until you’re face to face with Harrington’s third eye. You’re nearly salivating as a few pearls of pre-cum seep from his slit.

“Suck.” Steve’s hand finds your hair, grabbing a fist full of it. Fingers twining through it tightly. He shoves his way into the warmth that is your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You moan around the thick flesh.

“Fuck, Stevie, I can feel you through her throat.” Eddie groans, his pace stuttering to a near crawl. His ring hand squeezes and you find yourself choking once more, causing all three of you to moan out into the night. Drool begins to dribble and pool and drip from your mouth, tracking down your chest. And soon enough, Steve is fucking into your mouth, a crude, wet, ‘guck, guck, guck’ coming from you.

Eddie smacks your ass once, than twice. You tighten around his dick. “You little pain slut. Like it when we mark you up, babe?” You mewl in response. Your body is enraptured, caught in the purgatory of pain and pleasure. The two men find a rhythm; in and out, in and out. “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” The metal head declares, and he does. Hard. His spend shooting into you, hot and thick. You scream around Steve’s cock as Eddie’s orgasm triggers your own. He grips you roughly, hands on hips, fingers digging into you hard enough to bruise.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie had his hands on you and Steve with his in your hair, you would have collapsed. Your legs feeling like absolute jelly.

Steve rips you off his cock as Eddie takes a step back to admire his work, watching a mixture of his and your release trickles down your thighs. But you only have a moment to centre yourself before Steve is lifting you into his arms, hoisting you against the nearest tree trunk. You squeal, still so sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He almost folds you in half; the tops of your thighs squishing into your breasts. He lines himself up with your sopping entrance and plunges into you with a squelch.

Your eyes roll back as you scream to the high heavens for relief, but no one is listening.

You don’t even recognize the man in front of you as he picks up a punishing pace. He bites at your neck, the swells of your breasts, claiming you in the most animalistic fashion imaginable. His eyes are black, taken over by the feral need to come.

And all you can do is take it.

He comes in you with a guttural growl. So deep and so hot, you’re trying to push him away but he holds you fast, dumping his body weight against you. “Shh, baby, shh. I know it hurts. Take it all.”

Silence. All expect the panting breaths between the three of you. Steve holds you close for a moment longer, peppering much softer kisses all over your face and neck as he extracts him self, trying to distract you from the discomfort.

Eddie was by your side in an instant having already righted himself. He undid the cuffs, stuffing them haphazardly into a back pocket. He circles an arm around your waist as he awkwardly shimmies off his leather jacket to put over your shoulders. He presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering what a good girl you are for them.

The next thing you know, Steve has you in his arms in a bridal carry. Too dazed to speak, let alone walk, you snuggle against his chest, grateful for the warmth he and Eddie’s jacket provide. Cocooned by their scent, you find the heaviness of slumber rearing its ugly head.

And as the sun begins to creep its way into the night sky, making way for dawn, you vaguely wonder at the back of your head, how you got so lucky. Your two protectors keeping a watchful eye as sleep takes you into its depths.

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

west coast . . . jean x reader

everyone talks about bassist jean, but what if he played the drums...?

cw: fluff, band au, jean being too damn hot

by @cinnamon-girl-writes !

beads of sweat trickled down jean's forehead. he took a moment to wipe his face clean, lifting the hem of his ripped tee to do so. when he did, he earned a roar of cheers and screams from the audience. though he wasn't the lead singer like eren or a famed guitarist like connie, jean probably had the largest fanbase out of the entire band. always a tease, he lifted his arm to rake his fingers through his hair, causing his muscles to flex and a trail of dark hair to peak out from underneath his shirt. this gig was almost over, and the band only had one song left to play. one more song before he got to see you, jean thought to himself. he loved touring with the band, but he wouldn't give up his time with you for anything.

getting a nod from eren, he started the beginning of the song. soon the bassist joined in, then the guitar solo, and finally the lead vocals. this song was one of jean's favorites to perform; the way each part of the song smoothed together so flawlessly never failed to send shivers up his spine. the gold hue of the stage lights burned at his vision as he kept going, trying to keep a constant rhythm in his head. 1, 2, 3, 4. The final verse came, and he exited the song out with a drum solo. the crowd tonight was wild, maybe the loudest they'd ever seen. after giving their final bows and throwing a few t-shirts in the audience, the band made their way off the stage.

jean was greeted by a few people as he skipped down the stairs: his producer hange, his label, and a few fans that had managed to get a VIP pass to meet the band. after a few hugs and selfies were exchanged, jean finally got to escape all the noise of the stadium and make his way back to his dressing room.

it was eerily silent when he entered. he flicked on the fluorescent overhead lighting and grabbed a clean rag from the counter, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow.

he sat down in the brown leather chair in the corner, opening up his phone to check his messages. after a few minutes of scrolling, he heard a knock at his door. he got up and swung it open to reveal you in the doorway, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"great concert, baby!" you cheered. you were wearing a baby pink sundress, one that he himself had oicked out for you one day at the mall. you held a bouquet of yellow tulips in your arms tied together with twine and blue ribbon.

jean felt his face heat up. when was the last time someone got him flowers? as far as he could remember, never. he had bought flowers for girls countless times, but he had never thought he'd recieve them himself.

you paused, feeling unsure at his reaction. "do you not like them?" you questioned anxiously.

he shook his head, pulling you towards him and taking the flowers form out of your hands. "no, baby, i absolutely love them. it's just . . . i've never had someone get me flowers before. i don't know how to react, really." he laughed quietly. "but it means a lot to me."

you smiled again, wider and calmer this time. "well, i'm glad you like them," you leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. "because you deserve all the flowers in the world."

feeling his face heat up again, jean pulled you in tightly, tucking your face in the crook of his neck. he smelled like cinnamon and hard work and familiarity. 

jean took a deep breath, shutting the door with one foot while he stroked his hand along your back. sure, his life was hectic and loud, but these quiet moments with you made all of the noise worth it.

:♪*:·’ﾟ♭.:*·♪’ﾟ。.*#:·’ﾟ.:*♪:·’.:♪*:·’ﾟ♭.:*·♪’ﾟ。.*#:·’ﾟ..:♪*:·’ﾟ♭.:*·♪’ﾟ。.*#:·’ﾟ.:*♪

a/n: thank you SO MUCH for reading 🤍🤍🤍 i'm thinking about making this a mini series-- who should i do next??

[leakyweep]

Meg I would go to the ends of this EARTH to write you a young Shanks fic <3 @downforsanji

Warnings: First time (both Shanks and reader), Afab reader, Shanks is 20, penetration, condom lol, dick riding, not proofread MINORS DNI

Songs to listen to to enhance the mood; "Morning Sex" by Ralph Castelli, "Maniac" by L.Dre, Nessence.

Shanks placed his hand on the plush, soft skin of your thigh, squeezing softly as he placed his knee between your legs on the bed. You both were inexperienced teens; and at 19 after being apart of one of the most vicious pirate groups at the time, you didn't have much time for things like this, neither did Shanks.

Now that he was leaving you to start his own journey, he felt it was the time to show you how much he cared for you, and how much he wanted you to feel good. However, he had never done this before, and the way his breath hitched as your hand ran over his naked hardness made you smile gently.

"What do you like?" You asked tenderly, pushing some of those crimson locks from his face as his hand squeezed the apex of your thigh. His fingers danced at your waistline, wanting to caress the most intimate parts of your amazing body.

"I-" He looked away, his cheeks deepening to a hue comparable to his soft hair. "I dunno. Never done this before."

You chuckled gently, your puffy lips connecting to the crown of his head as you changed the position, straddling his waist with your legs. Your supple breasts hung before him, drawing him to grab them with desperation and put them in his mouth, sucking gently almost like it was natural to him.

"Mm-" You hummed, a pleasant smile gracing your features, hips grinding against his own hungry gnashing, "Then let's find out together, yeah?"

You grabbed the condom from the bedside table, ripping it open with your teeth as Shanks could only watch in awe, his length bobbing at the sight of you. He sucked his teeth at the pressure of the rubber around his head, squeezing him in the most teasing way it made precum bead at his slit.

You positioned your hips above his length, lining his red mushroom head to your entrance, savoring the way it brushed against your tight walls there. Slowly, you sat down on his cock, both of your moans delectable at the way you both felt. Inch by inch, your gasps increased, trying to get used to this foreign feeling.

Shanks reveled at the way your pussy felt squeezing his cock, every fat inch of it. You were sitting on him now, bouncing slowly to start a rhythm and lull him into grabbing your ass, guiding your body up and down his cock as he pushed his dick up to meet your pussy perfectly. He couldn't describe the feeling; all those times he had pretended his hand was your cunt was for naught as he felt the real thing, almost coming prematurely at those whimpers of his name. He needed to slow down.

Your pussy was in so much pain; you had never been filled like this. Your fingers were the only thing you had to pleasure yourself, and they were nothing compared to the stretch his cock left in your cunt, the burn becoming a pleasurable feeling after a few moments of bouncing on his length. The way his cock curved perfectly to rest the head against your g-spot, it made you pussy pulse and beg for an orgasm.

"Like that," he moaned, relishing the way your hips slapped against his yearningly. His hands held your weight in those strong palms by your ass, and your legs kneeled on either side of him now, giving him full control. He was lost in the desire, in the pleasure; nothing he had ever done had felt like this.

The sounds coming from your lips, like a prayer to a higher power as you chanted his name, was intoxicating to him. No one had ever wanted him like this-- sweaty and desperate and chasing an orgasm that was a moment away. The way his hands lifted your body up and down on his dick, shaking the fat of your ass as he watched it recoil with a loud groan, was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-Shanks, fuck-" you sighed through hot breaths, leaning down so your chest was flush against his. Your lips danced across his skin under his ear, your voice lowering to a whisper as you said, "I'm glad you t-took my virginity."

Without another breath, he was coming, his dick pulsing inside your walls as his spend pooled at the end of the condom, still pushed deep inside of you as you felt the waves of your orgasm wash over you as well. Those words had turned him on more than he was before, if that was even possible. Those words bounced around in his head, repeating like a tape.

Shanks couldn't believe the euphoria he had experienced; the way your hot, pulsing walls squeezed his length, sucking in his head and trying to collect as much of him as possible- it was addicting to him. He was convinced he had died and gone to heaven as he lay, catching his breath.

The feeling of being so full while reaching your climax was magnificent. Your fingers would never be enough again. You watched his face contort in pleasure as you chased your own orgasm, hips stuttering against his own. Stars danced across your vision, your moans slowly dissipating into soft pants.

After the dazed look left your eyes and Shanks' heavy breathing subsided, you both turned to each other.

"Wanna do it again?" Shanks asked mischievously, a smirk adorning his features with that glint in his eye that told you there was only one answer.

[heeseungsnewwhore]

The Jungwon affliction is hitting a different kind of hard today. I mean not any different for me this is what I feel on a regular basis but today I’m sharing- Continue reading at your own risk 🫶 it’s a little different.

They were innocent pictures.

So innocent.

Just adorable little bed selfies.

Like literally you just saw them, that’s exactly what they are. Except they’re not. Mm-mm. Not for these eyes. Imagine the irrational amount of horny rage lusting through you as you get the notification and now you’re hopping out of your bed.

Racing out of you hotel room and rushing to sneak into his. Quickly and quietly dashing in and carefully shutting his door behind you. You look around to see him still on his back as he raises his head up with curious and confused eyes, simply humming as he looks up at you.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper.

“What?”

“You know what.” You squint at him and he chuckles.

Sitting up in the bed enough to prop back on his elbows. Tossing his bangs out of his face.

This man…

“What are you talking about?”

You don’t say another word to him until you’re crawling into the bed with him, softly cursing him as he only giggles and tries to block you with the blankets. Failing to keep you from nestling between his legs, and at first tickling him. The man wallowing and laughing, begging and swearing up and down through his laughter that he has no idea what you’re blaming him for so you’d let him breathe and simply explain:

“Those hot as fuck pictures you jsut posted. What the fuck?” You ask again and he looks at you with oblivious doe eyes.

“What do you mean, I thought they were cute?” He asks with a pout, before clicking his tongue. “Pervert.”

“Exactly. Think I’m just gonna let you go to bed after that?” You chuckle before leaning your head down to begin pressing kisses to his neck.

He doesn’t protest, not physically but he’s verbally scolding you for thinking such a way. But it’s not long before his words are dying away into moans and whimpers and he’s sprawled on the bed. Completely naked. Bangs clinging to his forehead. His hands gripping the pillow at either side of his head. Chest heaving as he’s not even trying to keep himself quiet.

“I-ughn~…O-oh.. o-oh my…f-fu…fuck~!”

He’s crying out. Your mouth around him and three digits inside of him too much for him to say much else. Or make any other noises.

He’d literally be writhing.

His moans would be a song of their own.

And they’re desperate. Jungwons moans are so needy and desperate, and it just drives you to keep giving him what he wanted.

He loved the edging. The drawn out collaboration of pain and pleasure that was ripping its way through every fiber of his being. The way your mouth hallowed around him and slowly devoured him. The way three fingers were burying themself again and again, curling, rubbing, spreading inside his puffy hole.

This is exactly what you wanted. It wasn’t anything for you to cum just at the sight of him like this. Admiring your pattern of purple hues over perfect skin. The contorted expression of pleasure on his face. The way his back arched and how he cries out like the desperate slut of himself he only shows you. On full display, shameless and letting you do whatever you wanted to him.

All of it was yours.

With every drop of his release that fills your mouth as he’s bucking his hips wildly in a sloppy rhythm. You still yourself some, letting him use your mouth to finish his messy release. A mixture of cum and saliva squelching out past your lips and ending up a mess around your mouth and cheeks until he finally comes down and his hips collapse back into the mattress.

“Th…Th-thank you…” He says in between the cutest little fucked out moans you’ve ever heard. “I-I’m-“

“Not yet~ But not until I’ve made you cum for every one of those ‘cute’ litttle pictures you posted.”

[bloombubs]

Can I request Adrian x reader romantic where reader is sorta embarrassed that, since she’s in her late 20s, she never had a bf before Adrian or ever had sex or did any sort of self pleasure (because shes afraid if she sticks anything up her, you know, she’ll end up sticking into something she’s not supposed to and hurting herself real bad or end up ripping something up in the and dying lol)

hi, thank you for requesting, i hope this is okay!!

notes: 1kish words, obviously sexual themes, comforting and worried adrian.

Y/N lay beneath Adrian on the couch, a deepening red hue spreading across her cheeks. The room's tension became palpable, her hands fiddling with the fabric of the couch cushions. In the background, a movie played, its words lost on her as her heart raced in her chest. Adrian gazed down at her, his brows furrowed, and then carefully pulled himself away, giving her space.

One moment, their lips were locked in a passionate kiss, synchronized and punctuated by tiny pants. Adrian's rough hands caressed her sides, slipping beneath fabric to brush against Y/N's soft skin. She melted like putty beneath his touch, a warmth coursing through her body. The next moment, fear seized her as his hand ventured into her panties, his fingers brushing against her slit, her yelp breaking the rhythm.

Adrian never had that kind of reaction before based on the tone of his girlfriend’s voice. Confusion etched across his features, he pushed the frame of his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His eyes flickered around the random objects in his apartment, searching for answers that eluded him. Fingers nervously tapped on his thigh against the fabric of his jeans, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“I'm sorry,” she squeaked, propping herself up on her elbows. Adrian shifted his attention to her, noticing her mortified expression. He felt a pang of guilt—had he caused her distress?

“What–I'm sorry too,”  he stammered, unsure of what exactly warranted an apology. The air hung heavy with tension, making him want to reach out to comfort his girlfriend, but afraid that any touch might worsen the situation. Adrian didn’t want to ruin his relationship with Y/N, he was in too deep with her occupying his thoughts most of the day, he didn’t want to mess anything up. 

Y/N groaned, tilting her head back on the pillow. She had always been too embarrassed to voice her fears, but Adrian was her first boyfriend, and communication was crucial. “You don't need to apologize, Adrian,” she started, attempting to maintain eye contact but failing. Every word teetered on the edge of her tongue, swallowed by fear and the uncertainty of acceptance.

The words stumbled out of her mouth, “We–we should talk,” followed by a wince, apprehensive about how it might sound to Adrian. Leaning back, she reached for his bicep, her hand squeezing in an attempt to convey comfort and signal that this wasn't a prelude to a breakup speech.

Adrian felt a mixture of concern and confusion. She seemed embarrassed, yet he couldn't pinpoint any particular incident that warranted such a reaction. He chose silence, an unusual choice for him, afraid that any words might inadvertently worsen the situation. His eyes widened as he observed her, flickering around her face in an attempt to decipher her body language and cues—an art he felt he was gradually mastering with Y/N.

“You’re my first boyfriend,” her confession hung in the air, a piece of information Adrian was already aware of. In all fairness, Y/N was also his first official girlfriend. While Adrian had been on a few dates and experienced some fleeting, lucky moments, none had stuck around like Y/N. “And I’m a virgin.” The statement had her whole body flushing, embarrassment sinking in.

The girl glanced away, rubbing the back of her neck, not quite sure if she could ever prep those words that would tumble out of Adrian’s mouth.

“Okay,” was the only thing he said. Y/N's eyes flickered over to see him looking at her intently, as if he wanted her to continue, as if she needed to provide a reason for the serious tone of the conversation.

A silent beat passed between them. It was slightly awkward.

Y/N cleared her throat, attempting to find more words to ease the tension. “And I’m a bit nervous to do anything sexual like that. It’s stupid–um, y’know, I–I’m sorry, I’m–” She stumbled over her words even more, feeling like she was digging herself into a deeper hole, one that she would prefer to be buried in sooner than later if this conversation took a downhill turn. The vulnerability in the air made her hesitate, unsure of how Adrian would react to this unexpected disclosure.

“There’s nothing wrong with you being a virgin, Y/N,” he interrupted her stumbling, hoping his words would provide some comfort. “I was a virgin until like… three years ago,” he added with a casual shrug. The reasoning behind why they were both virgins until their late twenties differed—she had heard stories about his youth from Chris, which she figured were slightly exaggerated but likely contained some truth. 

“Right… but I’m scared about… all of it. Well, maybe just the beginning–but what if I need to go to the hospital and–” she started, her eyes flickering between him and her hands, hoping he would grasp the essence of her fears. A lump formed in her throat; she recognized this fear as irrational—logically, people had sex, and most didn’t face serious consequences. But what if she did? The thoughts spiraled into a never-ending rabbit hole. 

Adrian noticed her growing anxiety and reached out to her, gently caressing her thigh, his thumb stroking against her skin. “Hey, hey, it’s all okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s really scary for you. I–I don’t know how to make it less scary for you, but I can promise you I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do—you just have to tell me,” he offered, his tone soft and reassuring. Adrian wanted to emphasize that he was there to support her, and their relationship could progress at a pace she was comfortable with.

Her eyes widened at his unexpectedly comforting statement. She nodded, and his hand reached to cup her cheek. “I like you a lot—and whenever you want to do anything, just tell me. And I promise, like a pinky promise, I’ll make sure it’s your best first time.” His tone was soft, his words an attempt to provide genuine comfort.

“We can even have sex in the car right near the hospital, if you want,” he offered, now rambling a bit, trying to emphasize his point. “I promised you when we began dating I’d always protect you and never hurt you—so, this is all you, Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his suggestion of having sex right outside the hospital, chewing on her bottom lip. His words were endearing, offering a mix of reassurance and humor. Relief coursed through her, knowing that he wouldn’t tease her for her fear. 

“Isn’t that against the law? Public sex?” She teased.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,”

[soft-mafia]

Taking Care of His Injuries

Warning: fem y/n, oc insert, dry humping, grinding, breast sucking, mild blood, mild injuries

Idea inspired by @cafeguaba-blog !! I took a smutty turn with this bc I’m just such a simp.

.

.

.

Y/n squinted as she dabbed the cotton ball onto the small cut under Hisoka’s eye, her brows furrowed intently. His large hands were at her hips, his veins were naturally prominent, small hues of blue lines decorating his paper pale skin. She was sitting on his lap, he was a large enough man to where she could use his thighs as a stool while working on his predicaments.

The magician smiled slyly at her, tired eyes narrowed. Their faces were inches apart, she could see the texture in his skin, the creases, imperfections and all. Her doe eyes flickered up to meet his, “Stop staring at me like that..” she mumbled and cleaned up the rest of the cut, digging into the first aid kid again. “Hm? How am I supposed to stare?” Hisoka replied, his smile didn’t fade.

“I- I don’t know just close your eyes.” She huffed and started on the gash in his side, “I.. I have to stitch you up.. it’s gonna hurt.” She let out a shaky sigh, looking at the medical thread and the needle in her hands. “Mm. It’s a mediocre pain.” Hisoka said as his way of reassuring her nerves. Y/n took a deep breath and began to thread the needle through Hisoka’s skin. Her hands were shaky and a creeping anxiety began to linger. “You’re doing fine, my dear.” Hisoka whispered, feeling the nerves pricking at her aura.

A soft, quiet groan escaped Hisoka’s throat, he leaned his head back against the headboard and sat through the process. Although, Y/n had stopped mid stitch, his wound half open.

She laid the tools to the side and lowered her head, “I can’t do it.” She whispered. Hisoka’s brow raised upwards, he looked down at her with a mixture of both concern and confusion, “Hm?”

“You can call her.. that girl that usually does your stitches- I can’t.. nen stitches would be better than this.” Hisoka could tell in her voice, it was raspy, timid and shaky. The fear of not being good enough, it was one of her biggest weaknesses. “Mm. Jealousy.” Hisoka chuckled, “Envy is sexy on you baby, but sometimes I do pity you.” The hands on her hips moved up to her waist. Y/n frowned at Hisoka, lifting her head up to look him in the eye to find that his smile still stayed and his expression was soft.

He leaned in and connected their lips, groaning softly into her mouth the way she liked.

Y/n scooted upwards on his lap, her eyes were parted briefly in thought but they were closed as she deepened her kiss with him. “Mm..” Hisoka hummed, thumbs rubbing up and down her waist. “Grind on me, baby..” Hisoka whispered, “I want you to feel our connection.”

Y/n’s eyes widened at him, their noses were pressed together, “Huh? What about your stitches?”

“They can wait..” Hisoka licked his upper lip, “Let me show you my love.” He held her hips, making her rub back and forth over his clothed crotch. She could feel a hard mass under her, nestling between her legs.

His long cock was hard in his pants as she could feel when he moved her. Y/n started to create her own rhythm, rolling her hips onto that bulge, feeling it throb and subtly jolt in his pants. “Ooh. You got me all excited.” He rasped, “Mm.. do you feel my package?” Hisoka held her hips firmly again, bouncing her on his lap, getting her clothed cunt to squish against his bulge, “Do you feel my love for you?”

Y/n whimpered, holding onto Hisoka’s wrist as he moved her as he pleased on his cock, still moving her hips on him to help with the pleasure, “H-Hiso..” the only thing she was wearing was the black lace panties he had bought for her, along with a black tank top. Hisoka moved his hands away from her hips, and with a grunt he ripped her top in half, exposing her bare chest.

“Such big titties.” He growled through a grin, his hands were on her hips again, making her bounce on him as he leaned in and latched onto a nipple.

Y/n’s eyes went wide, gasping and whimpering, trembling at the tingly sensation of having her tits nursed on by Hisoka.

He groaned and panted, like an animal as he sucked and kissed her nipple, his tongue licked around the plump areolae before he popped it back in his mouth again. “Hahh.. mmm..” Y/n whimpered, back arching instinctively, looking down at him with bedroom eyes.

“Everybody has their strengths..” Hisoka whispered on her nipple, kissing the little bud to punctuate his words, “It’s what makes them desirable and unique.” He moved to her other breast, playing with the nipple with his fingers for a moment, then lowering his hand back to her hip before sucking the breast into his mouth. “Mm.” He sucked and licked, causing Y/n to jolt and gasp. “Hospice may not be your speciality but you’re a strong girl.” Hisoka kissed the middle of her collarbone, then rose up, leaving her nipples hard and puffy. He towered over her, a cunning look in his eyes while presenting predatorily, “And you belong to me.” He stated, “You are mine.”

Y/n whimpered and shuffled her pussy on the fabric of her panties faster, feeling close to release. Hisoka’s grunts and pants became more deeper and louder, his hips bucking up into her, “There’s no need for jealousy, my darling. No need for tears.” He said breathily as he tilted his head back, hissing in ecstasy, “You’re my doll, my toy..” he groaned, “The ache in my sweet tooth.” He laughed drunkenly.

Y/n bounced quicker, panting and laying her body against his chest, “A-Ahh! Hhh.. aahhh!” A tiny orgasm, but she came in her panties, huffing and whimpering as she settled down. “Ohhh baby..” Hisoka growled, laying back against the headboard after release, “Ahhhh..” his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “I hope that quelled your doubts, dear.” Hisoka added, his hands moved back and rested on her butt, “Mm. Now, continue.”

Y/n looked at Hisoka, her glossy eyes were still full of uncertainty, but when he opened his eyes to look at her again, his gaze was enough reassurance. She nodded and picked up where she left off on the stitching, surprisingly none of it came undone when she was grinding on him. After a few minutes she tied it off, then put some gauze over the stitched wound. “Ok..” she sighed, “Is that it?”

Hisoka looked down at her and nodded, “Mhm.”

“This is your lesson to leave Zoldyck butlers alone.” Y/n griped at him, packing up all of the tools into the first aid kit, setting them to the side. “Well, you know I like a little fun.” Hisoka chuckled, “And they all seem to target me anyway.. and I’ve done nothing at all.”

Y/n raised a brow at him, to which he just laughed.

[lancermylove]

Chapter 7 (N.SFW)

➣ Pairing: Demon brothers, Royals, Solomon with fem!Reader. ➣ Warning: N.SFW ➣ Word Count: 2,369 ➣ Chapters [SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] ➣ Chapters [N.SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

➣ A/N: I tried something different for this chapter, so brace yourself for a dramatic event. 🤭 Hope you guys like it!

———————————————

The sun had just begun to ascend over the horizon, casting a gentle orange hue on the frosted terrain. The ambient temperature left you with a palpable chill that even your thick coat, scarf, gloves, and hat could not be fully mitigated. Despite the bitter cold, you felt stimulated and refreshed as you inhaled the crisp air and basked in the sun's warmth. However, a sudden, startling slam of the cabin's main door violently interrupted your tranquil moment.

"You are insufferable, Lucifer!" Satan bellowed at the top of his voice as he stomped away in a fit of rage, oblivious to your presence. While this was a common occurrence, you were on a vacation, a time meant for peace and relaxation, but their constant altercations disrupted everyone's peace.

While you didn't want to blame Satan entirely, considering Lucifer was only following Barbatos's request, it was understandable that the first brother would eventually lose his patience with Satan's ceaseless pranks. Fearing that Satan might spiral out of control, you trailed him into the forest, hoping to pacify him before he lost complete control of his temper.

"Satan, wait!" You shouted in vain.

Satan's mental control began to steadily erode as the blind, unyielding fury consumed his heart and soul. It was as if he had fallen into a trance, oblivious to the world around him. As his grip on reality slipped away and the beast within him gained control, his sense of self and self-awareness steadily faded.

"Wait, this is," you mumbled under your breath as you noticed a familiar location. As realization slowly dawned on you, your quiet muttering transformed into panicked shouts of warning, "Satan, stop! There is a frozen lake in front of you."

But Satan's rage-fueled consciousness had already clouded his senses, blocking out all input from his surroundings. He walked blindly forward, oblivious to the impending danger that lay before him. With a sense of urgency, you raced forward to prevent him from inadvertently injuring himself, but it was already too late. He lost his balance and slid across the lake toward the center.

The glassy surface of the lake crackled eerily and spread outward like a massive spiderweb, and in an instant, a hole appeared under Satan's feet. Shards of ice danced and sparkled in the air as the Avatar of Wrath plunged through the surface into the frigid waters, sending a rippling effect through the lake.

Satan's breath ripped away as his limbs tensed and muscles ached with every desperate, futile movement. The veins, arteries, and capillaries of his body constricted in a frantic bid to keep his precious warmth from dissipating. He desperately grasped for the edges of the ice sheet with numb claws but to no avail. The ice sheet shifted and crumbled, leaving him to the mercy of the water's cruel embrace.

As you stared at him in horror, your chest raised and fell in an erratic rhythm. A barrage of emotions, both physical and mental, washed through you, leaving you momentarily stunned. With each passing second, your lungs felt heavier and stiffer. You had to help him, even if it meant putting yourself at risk. But as soon as you approached the edge of the lake, determined to help him, he quickly stopped you.

"No! Don't...Don't come any closer! It's too dangerous," Satan rasped, his breaths punctuated by a hacking cough. The Avatar of Wrath feared at the thought of you falling in and experiencing the same misery he was enduring. As you heard his words, a rush of tears threatened to fall from your burning eyes. Even in his anguished state, he was thinking about your safety and well-being over his.

A sudden crunching of snow caught your attention. With a sense of anxiousness, you turned to find Lucifer running towards the shore of the lake, his crimson orbs as wide as can be. For the first time, a foreign emotion consumed the Avatar of Pride's mind, an emotion he had not felt - not during the Great Celestial War, not after he faced defeat, not when he was falling from the heavens, and not even when he found himself surrounded by demons. Fear. Fear of losing a part of him.

Lucifer quickly removed his high-collared, fur-lined black coat and tossed it in your direction. With a keen eye, he assessed the condition of the ice sheet, stepping cautiously in a calculated method. Each stride he took was measured, prompt, and thoroughly planned. Upon reaching Satan's location, the Avatar of Pride extended his hand out to his younger brother, hoping Satan would relinquish his stubbornness and accept his help.

Without hesitation, the Avatar of Wrath firmly gripped his gloved hand, and with one swift motion, Lucifer freed Satan from the clutches of the icy depths. However, the sudden movement brought too much pressure on the ice sheet, and a low, rumbling sound filled the air. Realizing their perilous position, Lucifer employed his strength to toss Satan to shore, prioritizing his safety. The first brother changed into his demon form and raced against the collapsing ice sheet. At the last moment, a gust of momentum from his wings allowed him to reach the sanctuary of solid ground. All the while, you witnessed the miraculous escape with bated breath.

A wave of relief washed over you as Lucifer reached the shore. Turning your attention back to Satan, you greeted him with a warm embrace and wrapped Lucifer's coat around his shivering body. In response, the Avatar of Wrath leaned his weight against you and whispered weakly yet reassuringly, "I am alright, (y/n)."

The first brother's expression softened when he heard Satan's statement, yet his mood remained somber. Despite his relief, Lucifer's composure held a pronounced unease, as if he was still grappling with the events that had transpired. He was always in control of his thoughts, yet the harrowing image of Satan's struggle haunted his mind. Without meeting your gaze, Lucifer departed, not wanting to risk provoking Satan by his presence.

Satan stood in his bathroom, covered only by a towel around his hips, while you helped dry his hair. His body continued to tremble from the effects of the traumatic incident, and his skin remained cold to the touch. Fearing that he might be developing hypothermia, you took his hand and gently led him to his bed. "Let's get you warmed up."

The two of you lay beneath the comforting warmth of the blanket, your bodies pressed closely against one another. Your lips meshed, their heat combining into an enthralling rush of intensity and fervor. You were entirely focused on your desire to erase any memories of the day's stresses from Satan's mind, even if it was temporary. As your tongues intertwined, your fingers brushed his length, sending a wave of arousal coursing through his body.

With every passing moment, your touch grew insistent, becoming more frequent and swift. Satan allowed himself to fall back into the clutches of pleasure, relinquishing the memories of the day's events. The touch of your hand stirred up a wave of delectable pleasure within him, and he could no longer hold back his voice. Eagerly, you lapsed every rapturous moan that poured out of his lips.

Unable to take it anymore, he climbed on top of you and pinned you to the bed. As your breath hitched, Satan seized the opportunity to take the lead. The sudden change in position created friction between your bodies, the intensity of the sensation growing in tandem with your arousal. Inch by inch, he pressed into you, his every movement orchestrated to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

Despite the fervor of the moment, Satan's hip moved slowly yet deliberately, creating a build-up of delicious delight. Your body was overcome by a wave of pleasure with each thrust, the sensation continuously growing stronger and overwhelming. It didn't take long for the pleasure surging through you to reach a crescendo of ecstasy. As your eyes rolled back, every fiber of your body exploded into a chorus of release. With one final thrust, Satan, too, was driven to the limits of his endurance.

You slowly opened your eyes, still wrapped in the comfort of your dreams. Once your eyes adjusted to your surroundings, you noticed that you were snuggled in Satan's bed, surrounded by familiar items and the pleasant scent of his clothing. But he was nowhere in sight.

Curious, you threw back the covers and sat up, taking another second to rub the sleep from your eyes and check the time. It was still early, and Satan should still have been in bed, but where was he?

As you stood up, you looked at Lucifer's bed, which appeared untouched as if he hadn't returned to the room last night. After getting ready, you went downstairs to find Belphie and Levi lounging in the living room. "Morning! Have either one of you seen Satan?"

Both demons smiled warmly at you, but Levi was the first to speak. "No, I haven't seen Satan...or Lucifer."

"Beel wanted an early morning snack, and when we came out of the room, I saw Lucifer sleeping on the couch and put a blanket on him," Belphie added, playing with his bangs. "But I haven't seen Satan."

"Lucifer was sleeping on the couch?" Levi gasped, but you interrupted before he could make any additional remarks.

"He probably doesn't want to risk Satan losing his temper," you giggled, thinking it would be better to keep the lake incident to yourself. "So, where are the others?"

"Diavolo wanted to visit the Christmas market you, Asmo, Satan, and Beel visited a while back," Belphie responded drowsily. "I didn't feel like walking in the cold, so I stayed back. Mammon and Solomon are outside decorating."

"And I didn't want to be around normies," Levi added with a slight frown.

"Oh, let me check on them outside," you chuckled. As you stepped beyond the confines of your cabin's warmth, the frosty winter air greeted you with a kiss of cold. Solomon was busy hanging string lights along the exterior balcony, whereas Mammon was on the roof. Remembering the Avatar of Greed's complaints about being stuck with the difficult tasks, you approached the sorcerer. "Solomon, would you mind switching places with Mammon for a while?"

Solomon met your question with a curious look, but after a moment of consideration, he politely began to step down the ladder without question. Meanwhile, Mammon got excited by your words and grinned widely, "Hell ya! (Y/n), you're the be-"

In his excitement, the second brother forgot he was on a snow-covered roof and pumped his fist in the air. Seeing him teetering on the roof's edge, you yelled in surprise, startling Solomon. With impeccable timing, the sorcerer managed to suspend Mammon in the air with a spell and prevent him from falling head-first onto the icy ground.

"You seem to have quite the poor luck with hanging these lights, Mammon," Solomon chuckled while you pressed your lips in a firm line to prevent yourself from laughing. However, the demon was well aware of your desire to laugh at his expense and shook his head.

"Yeah, Yeah, Mammon is a clown. Laugh, why don't ya," he mumbled, causing you to erupt into laughter while Solomon chuckled. Despite his frustration, the Avatar of Greed watched you laughing heartily, his eyes holding a tender look and his lips twisting into a gentle, amused smile.

The sun had set, heralding the arrival of night, but there was no word of Satan or Lucifer's whereabouts. As the minutes passed, you could not help but grow increasingly anxious, but a soft knock at your door finally drew you from your worries. From the other side, you heard Satan's voice, "I am coming in, (y/n)."

You rushed forward, your concern for him clear in every step, and spoke in a loud, panicked burst voice, "Satan! Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? You shouldn't have stepped out into the cold."

Although he realized you were worried, the Avatar of Wrath found your outburst amusing. To ease your fears, he reached out and tussled your hair in a gentle gesture. "Did you forget I am a demon? I am fine, (y/n). I just needed to be alone and think over a few things. Say, would you like to join me in the backyard?"

"Sure, I guess," you muttered, still upset with him.

As you stepped onto the patio, the evening darkness enveloped you in its frigid embrace. Your breath billowed out from your mouth in icy puffs of white while the chill in the air penetrated your bones, sending chills creeping up your spine. Noticing your discomfort, Satan grasped your hand and led you toward the cozy warmth of the firepit. He sat close to you, his body shielding you from the chill as he handed you a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"(Y/n), thank you for worrying about me and helping me," he whispered sincerely as he stared at the floating marshmallows in his hot cocoa.

"Actually, I want to say sorry," you said quietly. Satan had not expected you to apologize and stared at you curiously, awaiting an explanation. Slowly meeting his gaze, you flashed him a small, guilty smile. "When Beel and I went into the forest to find a Christmas tree, I ran onto the frozen lake. Beel chased after me without realizing he was stepping on an icy lake. And well...he slipped and fell. Those cracks on the ice sheet formed because of us..."

Satan chuckled and gently rested his hand on the forearm. "It's not your fault nor Beel's fault. I should have known better than to let my anger take over me. I...am sorry for not listening to your warnings and worrying you."

Despite knowing your words would not sit well with the Avatar of Wrath, you felt the need to say them aloud. "Satan, I am not the one you should be apologizing to..."

For a moment, his eyes widened, but he wordlessly stared at the searing flames before him. It was difficult to decipher his thoughts, but you dearly hoped your words reached his heart.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

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[jadegretz]

Mysterious Beauty of Cammmy by Jade Gretz

Neon lights bathed the London streets in a sickly glow, casting Cammy's emerald bodysuit in garish hues as she stalked her quarry. An informant had whispered of Shadowloo's latest experiment – a bioweapon disguised as a street fighter. Tonight, retribution was hers.

But tonight, something was different. As Cammy closed in, her heart hammered a discordant rhythm. Shadows seemed to cling to her suit, tendrils of darkness whispering promises of power, urging her to unleash a fury she didn't recognize.

The fight began, a brutal ballet of kicks and strikes. Yet, with each blow, the tendrils pulsed brighter, feeding off the violence, the pain. Her movements, once precise, became infused with an unsettling grace, her strikes imbued with a chilling power that fractured bone and shattered concrete with ease.

Terror flickered in her opponent's eyes, not just from the fight, but from something deeper, something primal. Before she could understand, a surge of power ripped through her, emanating from the suit itself. Her vision warped, the world bleeding into an agonizing tapestry of pain and pleasure.

When the world steadied, she stood over her defeated opponent, her body trembling, a dark aura crackling around her. But the fear in his eyes wasn't directed at her; it was directed at her, at the monstrosity her suit had transformed her into.

Panic clawed at her throat. This wasn't the justice she sought. This was something alien, something hungry. Fear turned to defiance. She ripped at the suit, tearing at the source of the darkness, but it fought back. Tendrils lashed out, binding her wrists, drawing strength from her struggle.

Desperate, she focused on the memory of Bison's defeat, the warmth of camaraderie with Chun-Li and Guile. With a roar that echoed through the alleyway, she ripped the suit clean, severing the connection to the dark energy.

Exhausted, she collapsed, clutching the ragged remains of the suit. The fight was over, but the battle had just begun. The darkness whispered from within, promising power, tempting her with glimpses of ultimate strength.

Day …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[whimp-whamp-whump]

a character stumbling through a hallway, knife in one hand, the other pressed against their blood-stained abdomen

(this trope gets me every time and i can never read enough of it— can’t wait to read your interpretation of it!— if you want to ofc no pressure)

(i'm going to write this w my ocs ... give ygs a taste and maybe write more if you like them enough? also sorry for taking so long with this ask TT i've been thinking abt it since i got it.)

CW for blood mentions.

Footsteps clamber down wooden floors, their rhythm staggering as each step grows more and more arduous, wringing out what little strength remains within him. Slickened fingertips searching for purchase on the chipped frames that line the halls only smear the red liquid onto Eric's paintings, marring the glass encasing in swatches of blood.

A wail from the upstairs runs goosebumps down his neck and arms - the noise arises from directly behind him, inhuman and reverberating throughout his skull until he collapses at an end table.

He presses his forehead against the dark wood of the leg; cool against his skin, easing the throbbing as the pressure worsens. The screaming doesn't stop, and even as he screws his eyes shut, the cries only work to deafen him.

A trembling hand curls over his stomach and latches onto his waist. The movements of his subconscious startle him, but when he checks to ensure it's his own arm around himself, he allows his shoulders to slouch. The tension drops to the floor with a thud, and Adam is able to withdraw his hand from his abdomen.

Blood. There's so much blood. The knife he clutches in his other hand rattles on the floor as his shivers worsen. A frenzied feeling winds up in his stomach, coiling tighter and tighter with adrenaline as the weight of the situation bears down on him, pins him to the floor on his knees - the potency of Eric forces him to repent.

"But I won't," he seethes to the moon out the window, eyes glimmering with an elation he's only ever seen on the painter's worst days. A laugh falls from quivering lips, raspy and strained. It makes him cough and heave; his body rejects the acceptance of his actions.

Clouds pass over the satellite, and it's then his audience is gone. Roars of defiance rip from his throat, raw and angry, as he searches in hysterics for proof: proof he did it. He can't move from his spot, but when his fingertips come back to his stained shirt, he realizes he doesn't need to. Slowly, they work the hem of the cloth from where it's tucked in his pants. It rises, skin of his belly exposed to the open window.

Blood covers his skin as watercolors splash over cardstock, vibrant and red, darkening around the edges where it dries. It clings to the fabric as it coagulates over the surface, sticking to his fingers as they trace over the stains. He laughs again - their path is uninterrupted.

"Nothing." The hem falls from whence it came. His hands drop to his sides, knuckles against the rug and palms turned upward. His eyelids weigh heavily on him now, and he cannot tilt his chin upward to face the moonlight - yet it shines on him, waiting, listening.

"His blood is on my hands . . ."

The knife glints from where it lies on the flooring, wooden handle soaked with carmine hues.

"I killed him."

His eyes flutter shut as he comes to rest his head against the table one more time.

He can't hurt me no more.

(A/N: so idk if u read this but UHHH this features two characters from a work i plan to expand and maybe one day publish? for now they stay in the drafts and i do drabbles for them here and there... but there are references ygs may not understand bc i've legitimately never spoken of them before, and everything i say is intentional. this is not the canon ending to my work lol it's really the opposite, if that word even applies here - let's just say it's drastically different! :D these characters / this story have / has been in the works for going on three years </3 they r my brainchild and they make me so happy (they try to kill each other, but everyone loves tom and jerry couples <3). u can ask me abt them, idm! i might publish more drabbles in the future, too.)

p.s., sorry again for taking so long to get to your ask :( !

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 13 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)

This chapter is rated NSFW — 3072 words. Super sappy sex.

Note: A tad bit shorter of a chapter, but I have some shit brewing. Oh boy. Just you wait. In the meantime, try not to let your teeth rot out of your skull reading this sticky sweet crap. Lmfao.

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Kristen whined, high-pitched and desperate, while her blunt fingernails swam past silken black strands and anchored themselves into her boyfriend's scalp. His lips expertly molded around her aching clit, applying gentle suction, all while the tip of his tongue swiped across the bundle of nerves in perfect rhythm.

"Shane. Oh, fuck."

Two digits flexed inside her, hooking and sliding, pressing the spot that made her see explosions of color on the back of her eyelids as she squinted them shut and rolled her hips to chase the gorgeous pressure.

"Oh, god. You're so…  good at this," she praised even while struggling to stay upright where he'd perched her on the kitchen counter. In the flurry that followed her sappy gesture of affection, she hadn't the mental fortitude to object when Shane hiked her up, lifted the skirt of her sundress, and pulled her panties to the side. Not that she would have wanted to.

He responded to her encouragement with a low groan of his own, the vibration adding an extra spark of pleasure that had the heels of her feet pressing into his back harder than she'd intended. The polyester of his Joja uniform polo felt entirely too unpleasant against her skin, and she despised the clinical blue hue, dredging up mortifying memories just as she was on the cusp of climax.

"Take it off," she suddenly demanded. Shane's eyes flicked up to meet hers, mouth still latched to her cunt as she stared down at him, panting harder than if she'd just run a marathon. "The shirt. Please."

The loss of warmth on her sex was jarring, but it allowed her to scoot her ass further up the counter while he grasped the collar of his shirt, ripped the offending garment over his head, and tossed it haphazardly over one of the kitchen chairs.

"Don't wiggle away from me," Shane rasped, hooking his hands under her knees and pulling her forward to hang off the edge. She squealed and giggled, clasping the old countertop with her good hand while the other flailed to keep her balanced. "I won't let you fall, babe."

Kristen sighed as his tongue slipped through her folds, probing at her entrance before his fingers found their way back where they belonged. His words reverberated between her ears, taking on an entirely new meaning while her thighs clamped around his head.

I won't let you fall…

She trusted him implicitly because he wouldn't let her fall. He'd proven it more times than she could count — despite the demons that plagued him, despite addiction, despite the depression that sometimes threatened to consume him. He'd been there.

"Shane," she gasped, tugging at his hair insistently. "Shane, please… I need you inside me. Now."

The way he handled her — dismantling her legs from his shoulders, rising to capture her by the waist, and lifting her from the counter — was fluid and smooth, like a dance he'd rehearsed a thousand times before showtime. She didn't have to think or speak, only wrap her thighs around his hips and her arms around his neck while he carried her toward the bedroom. Hands roaming one another's bodies, shucking clothing and trailing steaks of fire across flesh, tangled together, crumpling sheets. 

"I'm gonna fuck you 'til you beg me to stop."

His voice was gruff as he ripped open a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled the latex down his cock before Kristen could blink. Scrambling toward him on the mattress, she placed a palm on his chest and pressed until his back made contact with the headboard.

"No, baby. It's my turn to fuck you," she declared, straddling his lap, hovering just above his erect cock as his eyes widened and his hands settled on the curve of her hips. "You've been so good to me. Relax."

She took her time teasing him, pressing feather-light kisses to his forehead and cheeks while swirling the head of his dick through her slickness, suppressing tiny moans when making contact with her clit.

"How's this?" she asked, even as he pulsed in her palm. "Feels good?"

His only reply was a strangled curse before he tangled his fingers in her hair and crashed their lips together. Shane was frenzied, kissing her with more passion than he had thus far, rapid breaths puffing from his nostrils while his tongue swiped against her own and his teeth nipped at her lips. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Kristen fully grasped the base of his cock, guiding it home. Lower and lower, she sank, agonizingly slow, savoring the stretch that bordered on painful.

"You're torturing me," he finally mumbled once he separated from her mouth long enough to speak. Flicking his eyes downward to where their bodies were joined to prove his point, Kristen sat immobile, warming his cock from the inside while an uncharacteristic chill prickled her skin, tiny hairs standing on end in response.

"You call this torture?" she teased, shifting her hips forward and back. She was instantly rewarded with fluttering eyelids and flexing fingers that had roamed to her ass. "Shane," she whispered into the shell of his ear as she wrapped her arms around his chest and settled her chin on his shoulder, "I'm so happy you're finally mine. I'm so happy."

He seemed to draw a breath and hold it as she began to move — slowly upward across his entire length and then just as slowly back down. Something made itself known to her in that singular instant with a man who had promised to be whatever she wanted. She knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he didn't have to be anything other than what he was. Everything felt wholly perfect, and sharing it with Shane added the syrup-coated cherry on top — sweetness and light and everything sappy and beautiful and good. For the first time in her life, she could pinpoint this exact moment as the best. Nothing that had come before it could compare, and she had the rest of her life to try and top it. So, she expressed it the only way she could while overwhelmed by such all-encompassing emotion. Physically.

Having sex and making love were two totally different activities Kristen had thought she'd experienced. She'd had sex — emotionless, mechanical, singularly focused. And she thought she'd also made love. At least, that's what Jason had called it because he refused to refer to the act by anything erotic. They never fucked. They didn't screw. Kristen accepted his version of intercourse as "making love" even when it ended with her unsatisfied, staring at the wall while he snored beside her. More than several times, she thought to herself that she'd rather just have sex if it meant she could also get off, which, in turn, made her feel selfish and ashamed. 

But no. The way she clung to the man in her arms as she set a slow and steady rhythm. The way his humid breaths fanned across her neck and shoulder. The way his deep moans rumbled in his chest and radiated outward to hers, acting as an intangible link between them. The way she pressed crescent grooves into the flesh of his back and the way her heart felt as if it were so swollen it would split in two and the way her eyes pooled with unshed tears and the way and the way and the way…

"Kristen," he croaked, digging his fingers into the meat of her ass as she quickened her pace, grinding her hips while gently sinking her teeth onto his shoulder. "Pretty baby, fuck — if you don't…  Christ! " He shifted his grip to her hips and held firm, stilling her desperate movements as much as he could until her brain caught up with his words. 

"What?" she gasped against his neck between peppered kisses. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, babe. I just — you're gonna make me come too fast if you keep doing that." He cleared his throat, and the vibration tickled her nose and lips. "You weren't kidding when you said it's your turn to fuck me, huh?" A warm chuckle followed, his hands now smoothing up her sides before trailing back down with his fingertips. Kristen blinked, and two fat tears rolled down her burning cheeks.

"I love you."

The words tumbled from her mouth before she registered them as coherent a thought. It was true. Of course, it was. She loved Shane Davis like she loved no other. He was her best friend. He was the person she turned to for most things, including companionship. Even when he spat obscenities at her, flipped her off, and told her she was wasting both of their time by attempting to befriend him, she couldn't get the image of the young boy with piercing green eyes and floppy black hair out of her mind. His face haunted her that entire summer of her childhood, as cute boys do when they embed themselves in the psyches of young girls — her very first crush. So she'd pushed and pursued and insisted, and slowly, so very slowly, she cracked his exoskeleton and burrowed herself deep in the malleable jelly he kept hidden deep inside.

She loved him. It was certain.

But confessions of such magnitude uttered in the throes of passion could be cast in doubt or ruin the mood entirely. Kristen froze, her arms tightening around Shane's torso as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, hoping he hadn't heard it.

"Kristen. I — what?"

The languid tickle of his fingers on her side had ceased, and she could feel his heart pounding against her chest. For a terrifying moment, she was convinced he'd forcefully untangle her from his body and toss her to the floor, and she prayed to a God she wasn't sure existed that she could pluck the words from his brain and stuff them back down her throat until she choked.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin. "I didn't mean to say it like this. You don't have to say it back." And that was true. She expected nothing from him. She never had.

For what felt like millennia, the room fell silent with the exception of Shane's breaths as they expanded and contracted his lungs, his heart thumping like a drum. Kristen had no clue what he must be thinking, but the possibilities zoomed through her mind at warp speed, each more stress-inducing than the last. In the end, however, he didn't say a word.

By the time Kristen realized she was being manipulated into a new position, it was too late. Shane had lifted her from his lap, anchored his legs beneath him, and she slightly bounced when her back hit the mattress. Utterly dazed, she stared up at the ceiling until Shane's face hovered above her, his expression softer and sweeter than she'd ever seen.

Involuntarily, she reached for him with every limb and drew him in, locking her ankles behind his back while his hands sought her wrists and pinned them above her head. He kissed her once as he pushed back inside so effortlessly that it felt like he knew her body better than she did, mapping out every course like he'd traveled them a thousand times.

Feral was the only word Kristen could coin afterward. Grunts and slaps and guttural moans filled her bedroom while Shane fucked her to the edge of a coma. Any concerns he may have had about coming too soon must have been consumed by whatever lust-fueled demon had utilized her confessions of love as a conduit to possess him.

Her first orgasm built and mounted while he fucked her rough and slow, intense eye contact locking her in place when it snapped and spiked her circulatory system with a heavy dose of endorphins. She screamed his name, but he didn't break stride, rocking her body as she rode through it on a speeding bullet. The second was just as intense once he'd flipped and positioned her on her stomach, cheek pressed to the quit, arms limp at her sides. She was fairly certain his grip on her hips as he pounded her from behind was the only thing keeping her from sliding off the edge of the bed and face-planting into the hardwood boards below. She twisted the quilt with her unbandaged hand, her cries muffled by the mattress when it crept up on her and pounced like a wild cat stalking its prey. Faintly, she was aware of his increased moans and faltered rhythm as she felt his cock pulsing inside her, signaling that he'd finally lost the battle to keep her held captive while he transformed her skeleton into moldable clay. 

Breathless and sweaty, Shane flopped down beside her and regarded her with the same soft and sweet expression he'd worn before screwing her senseless. 

"You okay?" he asked, tucking a curly strand that had fallen over her eyes behind her ear. She had the urge to laugh at such a silly question but could only manage a weak nod.

For a moment, she dozed, recovering in the fuzzy hypnagogic waiting room of her consciousness. While floating, she concluded that she absolutely could not fuck this up. The mistakes of her past would remain there, abandoned but not forgotten. She had a story to tell; that much was true. The details were ugly and painful, and as much as she loathed to relive them, she knew she owed it to him. Would he hate her afterward? She hoped not. But, in the meantime, she'd do her best to make him believe the words she'd thrust upon him much sooner than she planned.

Maybe one day, he'd say them back.

❦❧🍓❦❧

She awoke with a start when Shane gently shook her shoulder, and for a second, she wondered if she was late for school.

"Hmm?" she asked, eyes adjusting to the evening gloom that had claimed the bedroom. The setting sun could be seen through the window behind her bed, hues of hot pink and brilliant royal purple streaking the sky.

"Hey, sorry," he replied, looking a bit sheepish that he'd woken her up. "Morris let me take Friday off so I can drive you to Zuzu."

"Good." She reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together, requiring physical contact after such an intense lovemaking session. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." His expression was vacant, and his eyes stared beyond her, even while fixed on her face. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was thinking — obviously deeply mulling over something important — when he spoke again. "I'll move in. If you still want me to."

Kristen flushed, warmth spreading clear to her fingers and toes, but she kept her own expression neutral, waiting. Afraid that if she reacted in any capacity, he'd be spooked and scamper off into the woods like a skittish bunny rabbit. When he didn't say anything further, she chanced a follow-up question.

"Are you sure?"

"No," he replied, capturing a strand of her hair between the fingers of his free hand. "But it's what I want."

She wasn't sure how to respond because she didn't have an argument. Even if she feigned confidence, she knew that the suggestion was something Shane would struggle with, regardless of his decision. The fact that he was being so honest was more than enough.

"You can change your mind," she said, watching as he smoothed her hair through the pads of his index finger and thumb. As much as she cursed the curly bush on her head, seeing someone else admire it made her feel nice.

"I know."

They co-existed in silence for a while, Shane closing his eyes while his fingers continued to twirl, and she watched intently, creating a mental checklist of all the things she'd have to buy, move, and clean to make the farmhouse inhabitable for a little girl. She also prepared herself for the sneaky glances and whispers that would circulate through Pelican Town once its inhabitants caught wind that Marnie's nephew had shacked up with Homer Wynand's granddaughter.

"When are you going to tell Marnie and Jas?" she finally asked, unable to hold back any longer. Excitement had devoured her, even while fighting to keep it at bay until the moment Shane's clothing hung in one of her closets.

"Um, dunno. Maybe this weekend."

He didn't open his eyes when he spoke, and Kristen wondered if she had ever seen him so relaxed. Her instinct was to cuddle closer to his chest, tuck herself below his chin, stay there for the rest of her life. Instead, she craned her neck over her shoulder to check the time on her alarm clock.

"Yeah, I should probably go," he spoke again. When she turned back to face him, he was scrubbing at his eyes with his fists, already moving to sit up. "Told Marnie I'd be around for dinner tonight. She saw me wasted at the Saloon on Friday, so she's been hovering."

"Okay," Kristen replied, joining him as he stood and located his clothing from the haphazard piles littering the floor. She opted for a bathrobe instead, plucking it from the back of her closet door.

The short walk from her bedroom to the kitchen to retrieve his discarded uniform shirt felt hesitant, and she couldn't pinpoint why. Granted, she didn't want Shane to leave. She knew a heavy silence would settle over the house once he was gone. A silence that she would attempt to fill with inane chatter from the television or by cranking the record player as loud as it would go or with the jingle of bells while she played with Moody and his many toys. But she also knew she had to hold the reins loose and allow Shane to meander without too much resistance. Allow him to find the path on his own and follow it back to her. 

"I'll be around in the morning," he said, opening the front door and stepping onto the porch. She followed and drew him in for a parting kiss.

"You better, boyfriend."

He scoffed, but a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned and began his journey back to the ranch. Kristen watched until he disappeared into the pines at the edge of her property, swallowed by the forest.