#to see something shiny and was like .. thats not right

[triannel]

HI!!! I adore how you write bill, an my own birthday is tomorrow an im ✨Terrified✨✨,, n was wondering ifff. You could do a sorta angst-fluff where its the readers birthday, but every single one of his birthdays has been awful. And like, now that bills here with the reader he feels like maybe he wont have to Just survive his birthday? That even with his god awful family, it might be ok. Like yeah the meds help, but it doesnt fix anything if the people youre with are why youre fucked yknow? IDK and maybe bill decides to take it upon himself to remove the readers family😋 cant be a neglected middle child w all the responsibilities of the eldest if youre an orphan/J AN I DONT MIND HOW CLOSE YOU STAY TO THIS I LOVE YOUR WRITING ANYWAYS!!

(,,,o n also the reader maybe be a grungey scene kid kinda guy? Lots of piercings, an is more feminine than his parents think he should be, especially as a trans guy, So thats smth. Love bones n bugs and shinies an is like if a dog n crow were a guy,, n supr srry if this is a bad req!! Im jus excited cus i love bill, and im also stressy out cus of my burthdayy >_<“) SO NO PRESSURE TO RESPOND ESPECIALLY IF THIS IS TOO LONG OR ANYTHIMG!!!/gen

-🌙

Hello and Happy Birthday 🌙 anon! I've managed to whip this up and I hope it gives you at least some sort of comfort for today. I really do hope you're situation gets better soon, take care of yourself and have a great day! (Also, don't worry, I never really do mind long asks.)

BirthDate

Oneshot | Bill Cipher x Reader | Fluff/Comfort?

Warnings: Mention of Death, Implied Abuse, Implied Trauma, Implied Bad Birthdays, Bill Cipher lol

Quickly stepping upstairs, you lock yourself in your bedroom, blocking all the noise emenating from downstairs. Exhaling, you drop to your bed, letting yourself relax into comfort of the soft mattress and fluffy pillows.

Only needing rest by this point, you close your eyes. Wanting nothing more than to leave this place behind.

"WHOA, DIDN'T EXPECT TO SEE YOU SO EARLY!" A voice suddenly spoke, booming loudly for you to hear.

Ah yes, there he is. You can't exactly say he's your best pal, but right this moment, you truly do feel more at ease with him than being back there.

"It's honestly been a long day so..." You shrugged for a moment before continuing, "Does it bother you?" You ask, giving a lighthearted smile.

"NOT AT ALL, I WOULDN'T BLAME ANYONE BY WANTING TO MEET YOURS TRULY," he spoke, blinking slowly in a dramatic way to show off his 'impressive looks'.

You chuckle slightly, shaking your head, "I mean, I don't think I'm exactly the one to choose to be here..." speaking your thought aloud just to perhaps tease him a little as you glance at him for a moment before slightly chuckling once more.

You never really did know how you even get to meet him to be honest, he somewhat always manages to show up in your dreams, so overtime you guessed that he might be the one approaching you...That, or it might be because of something else entirely.

For a moment, you thought you saw him become nervous for a second, but maybe it didn't happen at all as you only saw it for less than a second.

"WELL, JUST WANTED TO CHECK HOW YOU'RE DEALING WITH KNOWING YOU'RE ONE YEAR CLOSER TO YOUR DEATH," he flatly said, in a weird, eerie way. He always did love being weird so this type of behaviour wouldn't be uncommon by this point.

"Right... Well, what's the agenda for this time then? Or are you busy?" You ask, avoiding your 'birthday' in question. You'd much rather not talk about your birthday at all to be honest. Not a single one ever went well...

Adjusting his bowtie, he started to speak, "WELL..."

Snapping his fingers, your surroundings completely change.

The rest of your 'dream' went on a relatively good note. Having a cup of tea, playing chess, you both did the usual activities you both would do when meeting in your subconscious mind. But the only thing is that, he seemed to be more...well a bit more charming and noticeably, but only slightly more open to your suggestions on what else to spend time on.

He'd usually take the wheel and drag you through any activity he wants, but this time though, this time he was a bit more...considerate.

Now playing a board game with him, you take the dice and roll it. Getting one, Bill chuckles slightly at your misfortune for a second before taking the dice from you.

He might be treating you like this because it's your birthday, but you'd doubt it... Well at least for now-

"EY, IT'S YOUR TURN TOOTS," he snapped his finger a few times in front of your face.

Chuckling, you mutter an apology before taking the dice. Rolling it in your hands, you then let it go. As the dice lands on the floor, it lands on a six, letting you be the winner for the match.

"Yess, I won!" You raise your arms, smiling back at him.

"CHECK AGAIN." Bill spoke, pointing at your piece. Looking down at the board, you see a newly added tile in front of your piece, moving the finish line out of reach. You raise your eyebrow, giving him the side eye.

"WHAT? I DON'T MAKE THE RULES," he raised his shoulders, smiling mischievously with his eye.

Shaking your head, you chuckled at his silly banter while giving him the dice for his turn.

It's unexpected but, this dorito triangle man truly has made a significance on making your birthday much more bearable. Be it his choice to do it or not, you're honestly just glad to at least have some semblance of joy sprout on this day.

I haven't been able to post for a week because unfortunately I became rlly busy at the moment and it isn't helping that I do tend to procrastinate at times. I'll post more regularly later, but for now at least, I'll post this here. Once again, happy birthday 🌙 anon!

[alexisnotstraight]

i love that when i used to be a woman (before coming out as trans) i used to thirst 24/7 over women and would only thirst a small amount of time over men. but now after coming out i thirst 24/7 about men and rarely thirst over women. its like i was meant to be gay no matter what

[loki-ioki]

finding terapagos was easier than they thought

[strwberri-milk]

Can you do how the lad boys would react if they found the reader crying?

for rafayel i wanted to do like?? its his first time seeing you cry!! whereas the others are more general just bc i think like. hes a little more playful at the beginning of a relationship but grows more serious over time!! so thats why hes a little more playful only at the begining uwu

Zayne hears you crying before he sees you. You're in the bedroom, trying to calm yourself down before he comes home because you know that his days are long and you didn't want to make it even worse. He isn't sure what would be best for you, slowly putting his things away as he gives you a bit more time to settle.

It feels like hours to him but in reality it's only a minute before he comes to you, pulling you into his arms. He doesn't say anything to you but you know he's doing his best to comfort you. You're not expected to say anything to him really - he's more than happy to just hold you as you cry into his chest. If you do want to tell him about your feelings he'll listen to everything you have to say, offering solutions because he is a solution oriented person.

You'd end up exhausting yourself, falling asleep as he cradles you. When you wake up you find out he was able to get someone to swap shifts with him in the morning, giving him a bit more time until he has to go into work. You start to apologise but he just shuts you down, telling you that he wants to comfort you and your tears are a very valid reason for him to stay home from work, even if just for a bit.

Xavier's immediately pulling you into his arms and asking you what's wrong. It doesn't matter if he was holding something - that's not something he's worried about when you have tears running down your cheeks. He keeps you securely in his grasp, pulling you onto his lap and sitting down on a couch.

You're gasping for breath as you cry to him, barely able to speak but he somehow understands what you're saying regardless. You feel his hand rest on your head, gently comforting you. He tells you that he's here for you and he wants you to feel better however it is that he can support you. You bury yourself into him as you nod, not knowing what you want right now other than the comfort of his body against yours.

He's good at distracting you from your negative emotions. You're kept busy by him asking if you want to eat something or giving you his hands to fidget with. He's got a lot of snacks in the fridge from easy eating after long days. Even if you don't really want to eat he just wants to put your mind on something, gently pressing a morsel to your lips just to give you something to do.

He'll hold you until you're feeling better, consoling you and promising you that he's here for you no matter what.

Rafayel freaks out a little bit when he realises you're actually crying. He might have thought it was a joke or nothing too serious but when you look at him, eyes shiny with tears he's immediately holding you, brushing your tears away as he coos at you sweetly. He's telling you not to cry, that if you cry then he'll want to cry too but that just makes you more upset, pushing at him a little because you don't want to deal with him right now.

He immediately catches on and loosens his grip on you just slightly. You catch his gaze and realise it's softened up, his hands coming to brush your hair away from your forehead as best he can as he apologises for messing with you. You let him pull you into his chest as he starts muttering against your scalp, warning you that if you're sad it really does make him sad and he wants to see you smile, no matter what it takes.

He peppers you in kisses and coaxes you to tell him what's wrong. He'll offer you both some emotional support and a solution if he can find you one. If he can't then he'll just hold you until your tears finally stop, humming softly under his breath as you ground yourself in his presence.

Sylus' first response is to find out who made you cry and teach them a lesson. He's almost on auto pilot, about the leave the room when he suddenly remembers that you're sitting there crying. He picks you up and takes you back to bed, laying with you as he lets you cry it out in peace. He doesn't say much to you until your tears subside but the whole time he's got his hand on your hip, pulling you against his chest as he keeps his chin on your head.

Once you feel well enough to speak again he'll ask for details, wanting to make sure that if he has to enact justice on your behalf that he does it swiftly and accurately. Or torturously slow dependent on how distraught you are.

If you don't want him to do anything and just want him to stay with you he's more than happy to do so. He'll cuddle you up let you bury your face into him, telling you to comfort yourself using him as much as you need to. He just wants you to be happy and safe after all, so if his presence does that for you he's more than happy to stay.

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him

Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.

How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.

Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.

Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.

Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.

“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk.  I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time. 

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all? 

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone. 

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning. 

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble. 

She’d found her next project. 

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees. 

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone. 

How could he forget? 

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones. 

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves. 

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too. 

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself,  looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with. 

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished. 

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more. 

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him. 

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!” 

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.  

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again. 

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch. 

It would wait for another time. 

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting. 

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall. 

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses. 

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch. 

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again. 

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal. 

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her. 

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely,  amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle.  He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath. 

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again,  smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath. 

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber.  He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws. 

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her. 

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone. 

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body. 

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest. 

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over. 

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently.  “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left. 

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him. 

Good gods, she even tastes sweet. 

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath. 

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see. 

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze.  Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps. 

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal. 

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more. 

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue,  the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry. 

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her. 

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this. 

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation. 

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option,  but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside. 

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase. 

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight. 

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer.  Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath. 

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance. 

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance.  He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt. 

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace. 

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery. 

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.”  he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it. 

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,”  she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more. 

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices.  He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls. 

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end. 

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below. 

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down. 

His, his, his. 

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair.  Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her. 

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days. 

[seancekitsch]

How about something with Vox and an assistant reader? I'm so excited your writing for Hazbin!

hehehe you have received: smut with fem reader

“I mean, do I have to hypnotize anyone if the marketing team is good? Darling, fire them all. Especially the ones I own. Make them squirm,” Vox talks, at you, not to you while you plug in the information on your V-Pad. 

“Just squirm or flounder too?” you ask, not looking up at him either. 

“Is that a fucking fish pun?” he turns on you, pushing his chair back from his desk. 

“A synonym, Sir.”

You tap the screen a few times, filling his request and adding a bit of your own to it. 

“Done. No severance package.”

You meet his gaze, smile toothy and wide. 

“Devious bitch,” he muses, smiling just as wide, “Come to Daddy.”

You set the tablet down at the table near the door, smoothing out your skirt as you start to strut across the office, essentially modeling the outfit Vox had gotten designed for you. But before you can make it even a quarter of the way, Vox stops you with a look.

Right, how could you forget? You kick off your stilettos, a flash of the red bottoms against the navy carpet and you sink to your hands and knees; slowly, seductively crawling towards the overlord at his desk. 

His screen glitches briefly, electrical current sparkling along the edges of him. He watches you fixated like a predator stalking his prey, yet you flourish under his scrutiny, proud and confident as your nails dig into the carpet and you make your way to the spot at his feet. Vox pats his lap, a silent invitation. There is no seat for you in this office, and thats on purpose. Vox always wants you on his lap, draped over him, straddling him, perched like a shiny trophy. Today you choose to straddle him, hiking up your skirt as you settle in facing him.

“Any panties?” He asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No point when I work for you,” you tease, settling yourself flush against him, bare against his lap. He’s already hard, because of course he is. When is Vox not hard if you’re in the room? It strokes your ego, the power you have over the overlord, the control you have over a powerful man.

“Seriously, where would I be without you?” he purrs, leaning in close and grabbing fistfuls of your ass.

“Hmm, probably struggling to keep your schedule?” you muse, nails raking down the front of his suit jacket.

Without warning, he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his hips like second nature at this point before he throws you unceremoniously down onto his desk, muscle memory stopping the back of your head from connecting to his keyboard. You’d learned that the hard way when this all started.

“Certainly wouldn’t be making a mess of my office,” he muses, his claws tracing down your front, teasing your cleavage and down your navel.

You reach for his belt buckle, making quick work of it.

“For the third time this week,” you say, always teasing him. Always pushing your boss’ buttons.

Vox hastily pushes your hands away, tugging his dress shirt out of his pants and undoing them enough to slide them down, his boxers coming with them. You gaze down at his cock, while fucking has become routine you’re always somewhat in awe of the size of him.

He’s quick to push your skirt up, bunching it around your waist without any care for the fabric. He’ll probably just buy you another one, so arch your back into his movements, letting him pull you into position while slots himself right where he needs to be. His eyes meet yours, screen bright and blinding. Sharp teeth in two identical smiles, and he pushes in.

You struggle to keep your eyes on his as you moan around the stretch, no matter how many times this happens it always catches your breath in your throat.

“Fffffuck yes,” Vox practically growls, voice modulator losing control as he bottoms out with your bodies fully connecting. He wastes no time setting a pace, hips snapping against yours, slightly upwards, hitting a truly amazing spot within you. You see stars, disoriented and already high on him him him.

Vox runs his claws along your hips, electrical currents running along your skin just strong enough to make your body twitch beneath him. His hands trail under your legs, hoisting them up against his chest to control you that much more as he leans over you.

“All mine, fuck, all mine,” Vox pants, speeding up his thrusts, rocking you further into the desk as his claws dig into your thighs to keep you flush against him. He grinds his pelvis into yours each time he bottoms out, sweet friction punctuated by featherlight sparks of electricity radiating from skin on skin. You nod eagerly, gritting your teeth, but that isn’t good enough for the CEO above you.

“Fuckin— say it! Say you’re mine,” he begs, his voice urgent and desperate.

“I’m— I’m—“

A moan cuts off anything you have to say, electrical pulses going straight to your cunt and frying your brain in the process.

“Gonna short circuit for me?” he teases now, and fuck he’s so confident. You’d like for once to have him writhing the way he does you. But your brain does indeed short circuit before you can dwell on that too much, your orgasm having snuck up on you, white hot intensity behind your eyes. You wail underneath him, your hands reaching out for his and prying his claws from your thighs. Instantly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving you stability as he fucks you through your orgasm. Vox groans as he spills into you only moments later, practically collapsing on top of you.

He stays there, with you folded in half, his length softening inside you, your fingers still tangled together.

“Can you say it now?” he asks, the edge of his screen resting against your shirt as it dims.

“I’m yours,” you confirm, “you needy prick.”

Vox laughs, loud and barking, and finally pushes himself off you. He’s incredibly gentle to pull out, to slowly unfold limbs and help you to sit up, letting you lean onto him.

“You know, I should really report you to HR for name calling,” Vox finally says, winking as he does.

It’s your turn to laugh, scoffing as you weakly slap at his chest.

“Right, and if you get me demoted I promise you that Peppermint couldn’t give you pussy half as good as this.”

Vox kisses you hard on the mouth, static crackling as screen touches lips.

Voxtech doesn’t even have an HR department.

[lizardboiii]

Breaking up ┃One Piece Pt. 1

Scenario: Having a huge fight with your bf which ultimately leads one of you to saying something you regret.

"I wish I never met you."

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro x Fem!reader

cw: 18+, SFW, Angst, Hurt/No comfort, vulgar language

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Monkey D. Luffy

“You never even treat me like we're together!”

You were at your breaking point, figuratively and literally. In the last three months that you and Luffy had been together, not once did he change the way he acted towards you. It felt as if you were still just Luffy’s nakama. Well today that was all going to change. You had a plan.

It took some convincing, but you finally managed to get Nami and Ussop to help you set up a romantic dinner in the Sunny’s crow’s nest. Two of Luffy’s favorite things, food and you. It was perfect.

With preparations taken care of, you waited patiently for Luffy to arrive. Your aforementioned captain was currently exploring the island you were stopped at. But with the sun starting to set, he'd be back for dinner any minute now.

So you waited. 

And waited. 

And waited….

You waited till the candles were near burnt out. Waited till the food went ice cold. Waited till your eyes stung from holding back tears.

Monkey D. Luffy had stood you up.

Your own boyfriend. 

Slamming the napkin delicately placed across your lap onto the table, you pushed yourself to your feet. Humiliation creeped its way up your neck. Never in your life have you ever felt so worthless. 

Holding back hiccups, you dragged yourself out of the crow’s nest and away from the undisturbed meal. What was Nami going to think? All that preparation for nothing. You clenched your hands into tight fists. The next time you see Luffy you swear you were going to-

“y/n!”

You spun on your heel to face the familiar voice. Luffy’s face smiled brightly at you, blinding you more than the moonlight. It was almost enough for you to forgive him. Almost.

“Wait up!”

Scoffing, you glared at his cheery form before turning away from him. All you wanted was a shower, not excuses. 

Luffy caught up with your silently seething form with ease, spinning around you like top. He pranced around as if he were a crow and you his shiny treasure. Your name falling from his lips like a mantra.

Try as you might, eventually you gave into his pestering, voice sharp as nails, “What do you want, Luffy?”

Luffy’s grin widened despite your tone, “Sorry I couldn't make it, y/n. There was a festival in town, you should have come. There was an all you can eat buffet, Tra-guy and Jaggy were there too!” He scratched his chin, “Maybe next time you can invite everyone else so we can all eat together again!”

Your eye twitched, “Why would I invite the whole crew to our date?”

“Date?”

You stopped in your tracks, “Yes, date. You know the ones you're supposed to take your girlfriend out on? That kind?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head at your reply. 

“But I have multiple girlfriends?” “WHAT?”

“Ya! You, Robin, Nami,” Luffy used his fingers to count, “Oh, and Vivi!”

You face palmed, “Not “girl” friends, Luffy. A “girlfriend”. Someone who’s more,” You reached for Luffy’s hand, “Special.”

“But all my friends are special,” Luffy pouted, gingerly returning your touch.

Laughing, you shook your head, “I know. But…It's a different type of special. It's when you wanna hold their hand, and you wanna be near them no matter what,” You met his confused gaze, “It's someone you love.”

“Then why would I wanna do that with you?”

“Huh?”

It felt like your body hit a brick wall. Every word ripped from your throat. He was joking right? It was a sick joke but a joke no less. 

“I don’t think I love you.”

You blinked in confusion before choking out a response, “T-Thats okay. Sometimes it takes a while to realize you love someone. It's not immediate.”

Luffy hummed, “I'm not sure I even want a “girlfriend”, y/n.”

A nervous laughter erupted from your throat, “Luffy, what are you talking about?” It felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.

“I like how my friends are now. I don't need a “girlfriend”. I have my Nakama. I have you.”

The world suddenly stopped spinning, and only for a moment the ocean quieted and the breeze hushed. Then, as if nothing happened, the world began to turn as normal, leaving behind your hollowed out body.

"...what?"

Cheeky smiled, Luffy repeated his words as if it was only the news, "I don't need a "girlfriend" I have a crew!"

The empty feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly filled with rage. First, he stood you up. Now? Now, he wants to pretend you guys aren't even dating!?

“Luffy, we're dating! What are you talking about? I asked you out almost three months ago!” You snapped, “Why did you even say yes to me if you didn't want a "girlfriend"?” 

“I don't know,” He cocked his head to the side, “I just thought you wanted to be closer friends.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “What?”

Luffy shifted in his sandals, clearly uncomfortable, “I thought you wanted to be my “girl” friend, not my “girlfriend”.”

“Are you joking?” Your skin felt red hot as if your whole being was ablaze, “You thought I wanted to be your “girl” friend!? Did it ever once occur to you that friends don't hold each other’s hands!?”

Luffy quickly retracted his hand from your grip, scratching his head in thought, “Not really.”

“Oh my god,” You couldn't tell if you were laughing or crying at this point, “This whole time you never thought we were together? Ever?!”

“I guess we are a bit closer than everyone else,” Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought.

“A bit?” You ran your fingers through your hair, “We spend every waking moment together! I've confided in you, you've confided with me. You know things about me no one else does!”

To his credit, Luffy looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, y/n. I guess…I just never noticed how you really felt.”

You rolled your tear filled eyes, “Obviously.”

“I can try if you want-”

“Forget it, Luffy,” You held your hands up in defeat, “Just forget it. Whatever you thought was going on here is over.”

Luffy grabbed your arm, “What! I don't want that!”

“You don't seem to want a lot of things,” You shrugged his grip off, “Including me.”

“y/n.”

You wiped your face clear of tears.

“We're done, Lu.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Roronoa Zoro

"Do I need to be a sword just to get a minute of your attention!?"

Three hundred seventy-six, three hundred seventy-seven, three hundred seventy-eight-

“Are you still counting?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, mom.”

Zoro ignored your annoyed response, preferring to continue his push ups below you. Huffing, you rested your chin on your hand. He had been going at this for hours now. You were starting to feel nauseous as your form jostled every time Zoro went up and down with you on his back.

“How much longer?”

Zoro grunted, “When I reach two thousand.”

“Two thousand!?”

Your sudden shout made Zoro shoot up quickly, knocking you off balance. Your criss-crossed form easily flew from Zoro’s back to the ground below. You fell hard, slamming your shoulder into the wood floor. 

Hissing, you rubbed your now sore arm, “What the hell, Zoro!?”

“Shit.”

The moss head was quick to his feet, offering you a hand, “Dammit, you should've been more careful.”

You snatched his extended hand and scoffed, “I wasn't the one who moved so suddenly.”

Pulling you to your feet, Zoro continued to hold your hand, “I wasn't the one complaining so loudly.”

“I can’t help it. We’ve been here all day,” You played with his larger fingers, “Plus, you promised you'd explore the island with me today.”

You could hear Zoro grumble under his breath before sighing loudly, “Training is more important right now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What, why?"

Your thoughts raced around in your head to find a reason for Zoro's sudden uptightness. You were quick to settle on striking golden eyes and a small dagger. Dracule Mihawk. He and Zoro had put on quite the show only weeks ago.

Rubbing Zoro's palm, you quirked a brow, "Are you still hung up about that Mihawk guy beating you?”

“I'm not hung up.”

You flinched at Zoro’s tone, “You clearly are.”

Quickly dropping your hand, Zoro turned away from you, “Listen it doesn't even matter what you think. You wouldn't understand. You're not a swordsman.”

“I'm not a swordsman but I'm definitely your girlfriend,” you snapped at his back.

“Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you can control my training.”

“Just because you're a swordsman doesn't mean you can just dismiss me.”

The room filled with a silence thick enough to cut with a sword. You thought you might drown on land. Staring into Zoro's rigid back, you tried to manifest any form of response from him.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, Zoro rolled his shoulders and turned to face you. Your breath caught in your throat at his expression. It was dark, almost...menacing. It was a gaze he normally reserved scum marines and enemy pirates alike, but never for you.

“You're the one who's dismissing me!”

A forced laugh erupted from your mouth, “How am I dismissing you, moss head?” You crossed the space between the two of you, “By telling you to take one measly break?”

Zoro’s eyes bore into your own as if trying to find his next words. Grabbing your hand, he placed it on his bare chest, “Do you see this?”

You tensed at the feeling of the scar tissue, Mihawk.

“This...this scar is why I have to be stronger. For the crew. For Luffy,” Zoro squeezed your hand, “For you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Zoro, I didn't-”

“Maybe we should break up.”

You paused, mouth stuck open in shock, “...what?”

It felt like you had swallowed glass, pins and needles running down your esophagus into your stomach. But the glass still wasn't enough to fill the large pit beginning to form.

Gently, Zoro pushed your hand away from him, “This relationship,” he took a deep breath, “Might be too much of a distraction.”

You never really understood when people said it felt like their heart was being ripped out of their chest. But now? It felt like your whole chest cavity had been removed. 

Slowly, hot tears began to cascad down your rosied cheeks, “You think I'm a distraction?”

Zoro paused, his internal conflicted evident on his face, “...yes.”

You clenched your teeth together tightly, “Screw you, Zoro! I can barely get you to pay attention to me when someone even mentions the word “sword” but I'm the distraction?!” You jammed a finger into his chest, avoiding his scar, “If you needed an excuse to break up with me so badly you could've at least chosen a good one!”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Zoro favored staring at the ground, “But if I want to be the greatest swordsman I can't be with you.” His hand captured the one buried in his chest, "Not yet at least."

You ripped your hand away from him, "If not now, then never." Your eyes searched Zoro's, looking for any sign of regret, "Choose, Zoro."

"Its over, y/n," Massive arms pulled you into a warm hug, "I'm sorry."

Clutching onto him, you sobbed silently. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just have both?

"I love you."

“Fuck you.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Requests Open!

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Smooches

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: written in honor of the fabulous and fantastic @romanarose birthday today!!! 🎂 I would not be writing Pedro fics if it were not for their fantastic stories that got me hooked so everyone PLEASE wish our lord and Savior the bestest birthdays of all!

- - - -

Joel knew pregnancy brain was out of wack when you started slamming the table with a fork and knife at 5pm like a senior citizen demanding dinner.

"I aint got anything you aren't gonna throw up later. We're going out," he states with hands planted on his hips.

"Ooh yay!" You wiggle out of your chair and grab your purse. "Jone's steakhouse?"

"If that's what you want."

"But you have to ALSO want it. Or it feels like you don't want it and makes me feel like I'm dragging--"

"JUST. get in the car, sweetie," he grits with a fake smile, opening the door.

-

Dinner was good. Steak was solid. You complained it wasn't salty enough even after you dumped the entire shaker onto each slice. But now that both your bellies are full and satisfied, with you rubbing your exceptionally swollen one happily, the drive home was finally peaceful.

Until you kept smacking your lips. The quiet air was filled with schmockschmockschmock sounds from your beautiful but ever so annoying mouth.

Joel clears his throat but keeps his eyes forward and mouth shut. Just gotta get you into bed and it's a sold evening.

He hears you digging in your purse, scavaging deeply for--

"Oh no. Nononononono!" You shriek, hands splitting the seam of the bag open to dump out all its contents on your lap.

"What, what's wrong?"

After clearly seeing all pockets were empty, you shout, "Oh my god noooo! Oh god please don't be happening."

"What you forget your phone? Wallet?" He asks worriedly.

Instead of just outright answering him (because thats just ridiculous) you start panting heavily and tearing up. "I cant live. I need it Joel."

"Need--need what baby? Just tell me, I'll make it right."

But you're too hysterical and hyperventilating  at his brain dead question to give him the answer.

Roll with the punches, Miller. Stay calm. Resolve.

"Okay it's OK probably just sitting on the ground at the restaurant. I'm turning around, okay baby? Please calm down, we're gonna get it back."

Joel explains to the host that you just saw 15 minutes ago that his wife (he gestures to his obviously pregnant and agitated , volcanic explosion of a meltdown wife who's having a panic attack) forgot something and would like to check the table again to find it.

The host rushes the two of you back to the table to avoid mount doom from exploding.

But after thoroughly searching for something that only YOU know what is missing, absolutely nothing comes up around the table that doesn't belong to said restaurant and table.

"What did you lose?" He finally asks hesitantly. It MIGHT help to know. "Phone? Wallet?"

You take a deep breath, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blown warm and shiny with tears as the world crashes around you at the devestating realization that its GONE gone:

"My LIP MOISTURIZER!"

You slug your shoulders and tilt your head back to wail in the middle of this albeit emptying restaurant while Joel and everyone pauses to quietly stares at you.

Joel's expression with an edge of disbelief and exhaustion.

He takes you by the hand as you still cry, thanks the host with a wave and gets your fat ass in the truck.

"We got more at home... right?"

"Joel!!" You snap. "If I HAD another one, I'D BE USING IT! I wasn't finished with the last one! Everything will be wrong if I open a new one when I still has the other one every day for 6 months!"

"You've had this one chapstick since I got you pregnant?"

"LIP. MOISTURIZER." You throw yourself back into the comfy seat. "You only like kissing me when it's moist and pleasant and NOW you won't like me--"

"Babe I never even knew you had stuff on--"

"WELL NOW YOU WILL because it won't be on and everything is RUINED! I have to over compensate for your dry peely nasty crunchy flaky dead lips, but now you won't love me and our baby because I won't have silky smooth moist plushy baby girl lips and then my husband won't have juicy sucker's to suck on when we make out and get his fat cock sucked by my once pillowy beautiful lush lippy lips...!" and then you start sobbing again.

He shakes his head. "Listen, how about I get you some more first thing tomorrow morning--"

"Tonight!"

"Right, tonight. That's what I said." He gulps hard. "And uh, you'll be... coming with me?"

You slowly turn your head and narrow your eyes. He does now see the clock is 8pm, sharply past your self imposed bed time.

"I meant you'll be coming with me... as I drop you off at the house. Then I'll go back out."

You nod as if saying 'that's more like it,' before folding your arms over your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and internally rolls them as hard as possible.

-

The closest 24/7 general store was 10 minutes thankfully. He grabbed a handful of different flavor chapsticks and dumps them on your lap--

"Joel what the FUCK are these."

"Chap--!"

"I WANTED LIP. MOISTURIZER! NIVEA! EOS! VASELINE! NOT THIS CHEAP SHIT."

He growls--not this shit again. He has flashbacks of the taco yackies incident roll through his mind. "YOU ASKED FOR CHAPSTICK! I GOT EXACTLY THAT!"

"Chapstick is a BRAND name. This stuff makes my lips burn and feels even drier. Joel do you SEE my lips!" You point both fingers directly at your mouth and purse out. "DRY. AS. FUCK. these are NOT dick sucking lips.  They will start fucking peeling soon.  and then I don't know if I will be able to kiss my own baby's noggin when she's first born less she be DISGUSTED--"

Hes back in the car before you were even done yelling.

Back at the store. Staring at the wall of different lip care options. This is 10x worse than the tampon and pad aisle. THAT one he's a pro in. Pussy King expert for all its needs. Even shows other women that come back exactly where and what they're looking for. But this shit??

There's so many flavors. Why does the flavor matter? Cherry red, cherry blossom, cherry berry--what the fuck is the difference? One says lip moisturizer, the same one next to it says lip care, then lip cream, lip balm, lip lush, lip lotion... fuck.

He does the sensible thing: pulls one of every single item into his arms, struggling but managing to hold haphazardly close to his chest (the man doesn't get a basket for shit because he only comes on for the exact ONE thing he knows he's getting). When he hobbles to the tired cashier, he leans forwards and dumps it all the counter with a sad smile. A smile of which drops quickly when the total comes to exceed $85.

-

9:14pm. Could be worse. You're eating a bag of extra salted chips--which he suspects is only going to make the lip situation worse but whatever. One by one, he basketball chucks them into your lap. You inspect each one, scoffing at all the useless flavor ones that just don't work, until finally holding up the vanilla honey extra moistening stick. You rip it from the package, pop the lid off and slather that shit on with a orgasmic groan, rolling your eyes back as it glides over and over your lips repeatedly. You smack them to spread evenly, all shiny and pretty before nodding approval.

Joel sighs and tosses himself on the couch, head first into your lap. You rub his hair and continue watching the TV, gnawing at the chips carefully so as not to ruin your fresh lips, as he falls asleep and snores deeply.

It lasts for a minute before both you and he feel something small against his temple stir in your belly.

He sits up like rocket, and the two of you stare at one another in shock. You both slowly look down at the belly, hands crept over its rounded expanse, and wait.

Then--an almost inperceivable yet delicate tiny kick. The first one.

Neither of you have words as excitement floods your faces.

"See. Even the BABY needs the best kissy lips."

He grabs your face with both hands and smashes his lips onto yours like he's gonna suck your soul away.

When he finally pulls off with a big grin (and you thrown back against the couch with a delirious expression getting oxygen back to your brain while your pussy drips fresh juices onto the couch), he smacks his lips tastily and enjoying the soft, silky, honey sweetness of your lips.

"Oh fuck, that is good."

You grip his shirt and force him back down to make out with you again, falling sideways on the couch as you both hungrily grope each others' bodies.

-

The next day you find your brand new lip moisturizer missing. It's set in the bathroom vanity, somewhere you did NOT left it. When popping it open, it has suspicious short little whisker hairs stuck to it. You frown but plant it back where you find it, run behind the door, and wait. About 2 minutes later, Joel comes in, searches behind him around the room before sneaking the little stick off the counter and hustling to the bed. He lies on his back, pops it open, and greedily smears it all over, humming contently and whispering "mmm yeaaaahhhh" before smacking his lips and pursing them out.

You fall over giggling in the bathroom at his new found guilty pleasure.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is That?: Alpine

Summary: Y/N goes back to work, and comes across a curious creature on her way home.

Bucky Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Thank you for today, Y/N," her manager smiled, as Y/N packed up the last of her belongings.

"That's alright," Y/N replied, setting her bag on her shoulder.

Just as her manager was going to say something else, the phone started to ring in its cradle. "I'll see you Thursday," her manager waved and picked up the phone.

Y/N left the shop and made her way down the street. She had always been a fast walker (thanks to the height of Bucky, she always had to run to catch him up). She weaved her way in and out of pedestrians.

Considering she was small as well, it also made it easier to avoid people and their bags.

As she stood at the crossing, waiting for the signal to cross. She spotted a little girl standing next to her, staring up at her with large eyes. "Hello."

The little girl's mother looked downtown her daughter then at Y/N. "I'm sorry, it's not often she stares at people like this."

Y/N shakes her head. "No, she's OK. There must be something about me she is curious about," she tells her, making sure she had her balance and crouched down in front of the little girl. "Are you alright?"

All of a sudden, the little girl had gone very shiny as she grabbed a hold of her mother's coat and looked down at her shoes.

The two women chuckled as Y/N stood back up.

"What's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at the engagement ring.

"Thats my engagement ring," Y/N told the little girl. "My husband gave me this, and he told me he wants to spend the rest of his life with me."

"The rest of your life with one person?" The little girl looked up at her.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, and I told him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and we got married."

Y/N was nearly home, as it had just started raining, when the sounds of meowing stopped her in her tracks.

She looked around and caught sight of a box moving in a nearby alleyway. "What on Earth?" She made her way down the alleyway to the upturned box and revealed a very young cat.

She didn't know what kind of despicable person would drop a cat so young to find for itself in the freezing cold rain. She could only hope it hadn't been sitting outside all that long, as its fur was nearly pristine white, but it was so skinny.

"Hello," she cooed, crouching down, holding her hand out to the kitten. The creature took a few cautious steps forward, taking many sniffs of Y/N's fingers. The cat must have thought she was trustworthy enough and pushed her head underneath Y/N's fingers.

Y/N cooed over the little kitten, making a fuss over the cat before eventually being able to scoop her up into her arms. The kitten made a little bit of a protest, only to be soothed by cuddles.

"Right," she says to the kitten. "Let's go home."

Usually, Bucky would be waiting for her in their apartment, but he had been pulled away for an important mission with Sam and wouldn't be come until the early hours of the morning.

Well, that is what she was expecting.

She was in the middle of giving the kitten a soap bath when a key was put into the lock, and the door opened.

"Doll?" Bucky called, not seeing his wife sat on the sofa watching her TV shows. "Doll, where are you?"

"James?" Y/N looked over her shoulder to where she could see her husband setting his heavy gear down. She looked between her husband and the kitten and then back at Bucky. "What are you doing home, I thought you wouldn't get back until the early hours."

Bucky walked around the corner and into the kitchen and finally saw what his wife was doing. "Doll?" She replied with a hum. "What is that?"

"What's what?" She sometimes played dumb, just to wind him up a little.

"Don't play this game with me, doll," Bucky walked over to her, so he was nearly plastered to her side. He lifted a vibranium finger. "This creature in your hands."

She stopped her scrubbing and looked down at the kitten. "I found her."

"You found her?"

"Mmhm."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at his wife. "And where did you find this cat?"

Y/N turned her head to look at him. "In a cardboard box, in an alleyway, block from here."

Bucky looked from his wife to the young cat in her hands and then back at his wife again. "Are you sure this isn't someone's pet?" In response to this, Y/N rinsed off the soap from the kitten and lifted her to show Bucky. Despite the kitten's white coat, the poor thing was practically skin and bones. "Bloody hell," this was something he had picked up from the war.

"We have to keep her, James."

Bucky sighed looking between his wife and the cat. He could see by the look in his wife's eyes and the way the cat is currently licking her hand - they had already bonded, and there was no separating them.

"Alright, doll. I'll go get some food and some dishes for..." he trailed off, waiting for his wife to fill in the gap for the kitten's name.

"Why would you guess I have..." she was now the one to trail off as Bucky was looking at her expectantly. "Alpine."

Bucky blinked a few times. "After the Alpine Ridge, I fell from?"

"No! First of all, I didn't not know that is where you fell. And secondly, the box I found her had a silhouette of a mountain range on it, and I remembered Steve talking about a mission you once went to during the war. He never told me it was the one you fell from."

Bucky nodded. "OK, doll. I shall go get Miss Alpine some wet food, immediately," he presses a kiss to her cheek and makes his way to leave their apartment. "And what have I told you about calling me James?"

"I shall call you James as much as you call me doll."

[alottiegoingon]

hc!lottie spoiling her gf &lt;3

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: how i imagine you and lottie in a relationship with her spoiling you all the time

all characters are aged up and in college!!

warnings: pretty much just fluff, daddy issues if you squint, established relationship, characters are aged up, nsfw content (mdni), fingering and oral (lottie receiving)

at first, the idea of letting lottie buy you stuff was absurd. yes she was your girlfriend but why would you let her spend her money on you?? didn't she have other things to spend with? (no)

it first started when you two had just started dating. on the very first day, she met you outside the uni so you could walk inside together and she had a small bag on her hands

you look up at her feeling embarassed cause you didn't buy her anything and didn't even know that you were supposed to

"dont worry baby, its just a little something that reminded me of you while i was going home yesterday!!" she has the cutest smile ever and kisses you on the cheek before giving you your gift

she didnt buy it while walking home. she has been looking desperately for it ever since you guys started to hang out as friends and paid a ridiculous amount of money for it

you open it up to find the collector's edition of one of your favorite books, little women. you know how expensive it was, you had been wanting that special edition book for ages ever since you first read it when you were thirteen

lottie was nervous while waiting for you to open with her arms practically glued to her body and rocking her body slowly from one side to another. then she sees the surprise and happiness expression on your face and immediately relaxes. shes smiling from ear to ear and looking at you like a puppy with shiny eyes, come on :((

lets be honest, lottie was not a popular girl like jackie!! everyone knew that her parents had money but that girl was just an awkward lesbian girl failure with daddy issues and didnt know any better than showing her love without buying things until you showed up

it was saturday and you two were just hanging out in the mall one day and she noticed how your eyes were sparkling while staring at a cute dress from a very expensive clothing brand. you were scared to even look at the price tag. you didnt say a word cause you knew that lottie would buy it for you in a blink of an eye but she noticed it

lottie would always pay attention to you and read you like a book, she knew you too well

"thats such a pretty dress, look y/n!" she says excitedly while dragging you by the hand into the store "i need to try it on!"

you sighed in relief knowing that it wasn't for you this time

you watch lottie try the dress in fitting room and you can feel yourself drooling at how stunning she looked (so real of you)

"you look so hot, lott..." you say and the next thing you remember is burying lottie's panties onto her mouth and pinning lottie against the mirror

she was very tall so it wasnt very hard for you to get on your knees and shove yourself right between her legs. you held her thighs by placing your arms under them and were eating her out like a starved woman

lottie's head would have gone through the other side of the glass if it was possible due to how hard she was leaning her head backwards. she had her hands tightened to your hair and the dirtiest and whiniest muffled sounds would come out of her mouth, especially when you inserted two fingers at once inside of her very easily

in less than five minutes you were wiping your mouth with your forearm while lottie was still recovering from her orgasm. her chest was rising as fast as it was falling down and her legs were so sensitive that she needed help to stand up for a few minutes

safe to say that shoving her own panties in her mouth wasn't a very safe option. the message was very clear when you left the fitting room and a bunch of mid aged women that looked like had enough money to buy an entire town were looking at you with death stares

surprisingly (or not), lottie ended up not buying the dress. you two would never come back to that store ever again!!!

the next day you wake up to find a package from that same fancy store on your front door with a note saying "sorry for not being there to see your beautiful smile, i had to buy it online :( hope you like the dress, angel."

and then you remembered that you and lottie had the same body type. oh she was smart.

god, you were already scared for her bank account when your birthday month comes up.

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[4pfsukuna]

Hunch Punch T. Fushiguro

Sneak peak of the Enemies to lovers series and inspired by that tik tok trending sound “come here bae come sit next to me, DAMN YOU ON THE EDGE OF THE BED YOU BOUT TO FALL OFF”

Toji had promised Shiu that he’d be on his best behavior and that he wouldnt bother you. He promised no more witty remarks, no shit talking, no more of him being— him. All because little megumi loved spending time with you and avoiding Toji meant every extension of him unfortunately for little megs too. And the little brat had his death stare down to perfection it was why he had two killer dogs.

You weren't oblivious at all to Tojis stares though, specifically to the way his eyes would roam your curves or even your ass when he thought you werent looking. the floor to ceiling window of the one way hotel window had perfectly outlined his wide muscular frame and the minute you turn around his eyes avert from your frame sk quickly you almost thought you imagined it.

Lets see how well tamed he actually is?

“Hows megs?”you ask and his brows furrow for a second and he almost ask whos that because his only thoughts was that thin tiny piece of fabric that was backless showing your spine tattoo, tiny enough for you to bend over and fry his brain and thin enough to where he could see your nipples— were those nipple piercings?

Oh fuck.

“Good. Hes soo goo—“ and he stops himself in his tracks no he wasnt. “No. hes… he misses you” he shakes his head running a hand through his jet black silky hair before dragging a hand down his face.

You pout sitting down on the bed the scent of your perfume overwhelming and he has to bite his tongue to hold back one of his sly comments thats just on the tip of his lips. He clears his throat at the way you lean forward your breast pressing further into the fabric and he feels his hand grip the soft sheets tighter.

“You okay Toji?” You ask softly but your voice sounds like a goddamn siren calling out her prey he’d never heard that tone and the way you said his name has his knuckles aching from the grip.

“Your ears are red” you giggle and this man was so down bad for you so when your hand reaches out to trail from the top of the shell of his ear to the bottom he shivers grabbing your hand in a tight grip.

When his eyes look over at you your licking your lips the shiny gloss never moving from your pink thick lips.

“Are you?” His voice rasp you acted like you hated him any other time but right now it felt like he was being seduced and damn did he want to fold… and then fold you. There was only one way youd act like this.

“What were you drinking?” He ask arching a brow before you giggle again pulling your hand from his wrist.

“I had two shots… Don Julio act a foolio.” You smile and he sees the way your tongue runs over your sharp teeth. Not enough to have you drunk or even tipsy but enough for him to move further from you on the bed to the edge.

“Mmcht why you all the way over there” you suck your teeth, But its the low lided look in your eyes that has him stuck. You had mentioned something before about scorpios having a certain look they give you that locks you in a trance and he thought it was some stupid zodiac thing until he fealt nearly paralized.

“You on the edge of the bed you ‘bout to fall off” you smirk watching the wheels in his head completely stop turning and fall off track his pupils blown wide as you crawl over to him straddling his lap.

Oh, fuck megumi! the little brat hated him anyways the minute your hand touches his chest, behaving so you could come back over for megumi was over. And fuck Shiu too.

“Having fun mama?” He ask spreading his legs wider, hands coming to stabilize you quickly by your hips but fingers tips grazing the top of your ass. He doesn’t even flinch when you pull the gun from his hip dismantling all 6 pieces. The bullets clinking as they fall onto the hardwood floor.

“Keep letting your hands wander might find something else” he leans forward slightly until your hand presses into his throat making the air thicken more. His eyes wander down between the two of you drinking in every inch of you perched perfectly in his lap and he really wasn’t sure who trapped who.

“I thought you Told Shiu you were going To behave?” You tease this time using your opposite hand to caress his face slowly pulling it up to you.

“Sweetheart, this is me behaving” he chuckles his hand reciprocating yours on your neck pulling you down so his lips are against your ear your eyes fluttering shut.

“If i wasnt…” his thumb presses gently against your pressure point in your neck “id have you ride my tongue until the only thing you can remember is my fucking name.”

And your spun around so your back is up against his firm chest, buldge noticeable against your ass legs dangling on the outside of his. His hand holds your neck in place to make sure youre watching him in the reflection in the window.

“If i wasnt i wouldve ripped this slutty little dress off you and had you pinned to that window fucking so deep inside of you until theres tears” his fingers start to slide under your dress.

“ until youre begging and dont know what youre begging me for: to cum, to go faster to stop or let you breathe” his hands squeezes Around your throat tighter tongue against your ear with a soft groan that you almost miss.

“Until those pretty eyes roll back so far you cant give me the look you’ve been giving me all night” he smirks against your neck pulling your gun and knife both from under your dress dismantling it the same way you did his before returning back to your thighs thumb curling against your black lace thong. He doesnt comment on the wetness just tightens his grip on your neck.

“If youre going to try and kill me be less obvious” he snaps the lace against your clit loving the way you flunch back onto his hard on. He knew you were dangerous but fuck this was the sexiest way anybodys ever tried to kill him. He knew youd never drink on a job nor wear something that revealing but he loved being seduced by you he couldn't lie.

The way you were glairing at him had him smirking because you still looked so fucking sexy and your eyes still had that slightly seductive yet hypnotizing look. 

“Get off me” you hiss though your body shows no fight or signs of wanting to get off him. You werent in distress in the slightest. Not a drop of fear in you when your neck was in the hands of a man who could literally snap it easily if he wanted.

“I can feel how wet you are f’ me mama. You dont want me to ‘get of you’ you want me to get you off” he chuckles cupping your pussy smirking at you through your reflections watching your eyes flutter when his thumb brushes against your clit.

“You comin’ home with me after this… the brat misses you” he purrs in your ear making you nod when he pushes a thick finger inbetween your wet folds soaking his finger up with a squish. 

“Okay baby?” He needs confirmation before loosing his mind in between your legs.

“Not your b-baby” you stutter at the thrust. “But ill come—“ and he thrust further this time cutting your words off.

See megs, you can have your cake and eat it too

“I know you will mama, imma make sure you cum for me” he laughs biting on your neck listening to your soft moan and instantly knowing he’d be down bad for you, how hooked he’d be to hear that sound again.

Shit if he was going to be down bad so were you.

“Let me taste you”

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hello Can you please do spidider verse characters also with a reader with anxiety were the spiders are hanging out with a friend alot and the readers anxiety kinda acts up (idk if thats what you call it.)?

A Quiet Moment In A Sea of Chaos

Spiderverse Characters and how they comfort their partner (Reader) that has an anxiety attack

(Including Eddie/Venom and Spider-Medic!)

A/N: This is all based off of various panic attacks I've suffered through, and different methods I use to help calm myself down from them.

Miguel O'Hara:

• You and Miguel were in the middle of a big company party at Alchemax, full of snobbish jerks who sneered at the dumbest comments and inside jokes.

You stood, holding onto Miguel's thick arm beneath his suit as he put on his best, fakest smile he could manage to plaster on his gorgeously plush lips, his sensitive eyes shielded behind his glasses. Sure he was odd for wearing the dark lenses indoors, but he was rich enough that nobody questioned it. And besides, it really put his whole outfit together.

He exuded physical prowess and success. And usually, just having him near you was enough to make you feel just as confident as he was in these sort of gatherings.

But right now? Right now you were freaking out. You bottled it all up inside, but all you could think about was wanting to shrink down, crawl into Miguel's suit pocket, and hide there for the rest of the night, to escape the stares and snickers of the other snobby party goers that settled into your skin like a horrible mist.

• Miguel took notice, his ear twitching as he heard your heart thud in your chest, so frightened like an animal wanting to escape a cage. He heard your breathing get shallow, weaker.

He excused the two of you from the droll conversation he had been sucked into so he could bring you out onto the balcony, hoping that the cool nighttime summer breeze would help ease your concerns.

He would bring you close, caging your smaller frame against his, crushing you in a tight hug, smothering you in the calming scent of his cologne and the very essence that is him.

Miguel your pet your back softly, whispering sweet things into your ear.

"Mi amor. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. Just breathe." He would say to you.

"Your heart is pounding, sweetheart. I can hear it like a gunshot going off in my ear. I'm going to hold you as long as it takes, okay?"

You would nod, bunching the expensive fabric of his suit in your fingers as he talked you through your waves of anxiety, soothing and kissing away any nervous tears that spilled.

"That's mi vida." He would smile down at you warmly, his glasses automatically tinting so you could see his warm eyes clearly in the lower light out on the balcony.

His full lips quirked up in such a way your heart fluttered in an entirely different manner, the gaze he was giving you so soft and warm that it could break hearts of any caught in it.

It didn't break yours however. All it did was remind you that you were safe in the only shelter you had from the chaotic storm that was your own anxiety; whisking you away to a paradise where your fears could not harm you.

"I'm not going anywhere, love." He would say to you, his voice full of tenderness and love.

"Come on. I'll tell them something came up and we can go home." He would say to you. "If I have to hear one more word from that asshole McLenny, I'm going to hang myself anyways."

When you finally laughed, Miguel grinned.

Pavitr Prabhakar:

• You guys were hanging out in the cafeteria at Spider Society HQ, Hobie regaling you, Pavitr, and Jess with his most recent anarchistic victory over the Osborne of his universe.

You had been picking at the fabric of your suit hard as Hobie talked. You felt their eyes glued to you after a short time, feeling a nasty feeling roiling around in your gut, but you couldn't focus on it. All you could focus on was the floor, so shiny that it reflected the lights and images of your friends and boyfriend with such blinding clarity that it gave you a migraine and made your panic attack rise more violently.

You were so consumed by the feeling gnawing at your gut that you didn't notice when Pavitr told Jess and Hobie that he needed to get you out of there.

Hobie and Jess knew about your anxiety, and Jess, her maternal instincts flaring heavily to life, felt her protective nature surge forward as mama bear ushered Pavitr to get you out of there quicker.

• Pavitr frantically looked for a place to bring you, not stopping until he found an empty office room to sit you down in.

"Hey, hey, lovie." Pavitr cooed at you, kneeling in front of you as he pulled off his mask to meet your gaze.

The lenses of your mask made it difficult for him to see if you were looking at him, so he raised his hands to gently peel yours off your face.

"There's my love." He would smile at you softly upon seeing your face. The face he loved so much.

"Wanna sit in here til everything calms down? I can play a podcast for you on my phone!" He chirps proudly, his eyes sparkling like little gems.

You sniffle and smile, nodding silently in response.

Pavitr would sit lotus style on the floor, pulling you into his lap as he hummed and played the most relevant podcast he could find.

Once it started, he'd place his phone on the floor and rock slowly back and forth, letting you melt into his arms as the voices droned on from the speaker in his phone.

"That's it, lovie. Just breathe for me, huh? Can't have that gorgeous brain of yours pass out on me!"

Peter B Parker:

• You guys were at a party with some other parents. It was a get-together a young couple in your apartment building started for other first-time parents to tots and toddlers.

They decided to hold it at the community center down the street.

The amount of people talking to you in one crowded room, the kids squealing and laughing, toys slamming down, crying, the sounds of the chairs scraping on the floor had your pulse racing like a racehorse.

Peter B would feel it, the hair-raising feeling on the back of his neck as Mayday crashed her stuffed fish into the stuffed bear he had in his hand, babbling and cooing to him as she blew raspberries.

His Spidey senses were tingling hardcore as he picked up on your discomfort, watching how you practically slapped your own face and wiped downwards to ground yourself, to distract yourself from your anxiety as it bubbled up beneath your skin.

But it wasn't enough, there were just too many bodies around you, too many voices, too many noises.

You just.. Couldn't.

• Peter would quickly stand up, cradling Mayday against him as he moved towards you as fast as he could without tripping.

"Hey, honey..." He would say softly to you. "You okay?"

"No. I can't--I can't breathe." You croaked.

Even little Mayday seemed to pick up on your discomfort, as she so innocently held out her stuffed fishy to you, babbling in her baby talk as her big beautiful eyes met yours.

You sniffled and took the toy and held it against you as Peter walked you into the deserted kitchen to get you somewhere calmer. It wasn't much privacy, but it helped put you at ease.

It calmed you enough that you were able to take Mayday in your arms, burying your face in her ever-messy curls, breathing in the lingering scent of the baby shampoo in the bright red strands.

Peter meanwhile, rubbed your back and kissed your temple, Mayday content to snuggle into you and talk in a language only other babies seemed to understand.

Thanks to your lovely husband and darling baby, they were able to bring you out of your little bubble of fear and worry.

Peter looked at you with such a soft and loving gaze you felt your heart swell.

"Hey, that's my favorite human in the whole universe!"

Mayday frowned and stuck her chin out at him, her little lip wobbling in response.

"Okay, okay, one of my favorite humans in the whole universe!" He grinned, giving you both messy kisses on the cheek, rubbing his face into yours as he laughed.

"Why don't we go on home, and watch a nice little movie huh? Just the three of us."

You couldn't help but agree. It sounded like a nice, calm oasis. Perfect.

Hobie Brown:

• You and Hobie were sitting with his band after a successful gig, celebrating in the dressing room of the pub; knocking back some cold brews and eating some cheap takeout. Everyone was laughing and joking, loudly.

Hobie had been watching you out of the corner of his eye, like Peter B, his Spider senses telling him something you weren't voicing as you quietly sat, frosty glass in your hands as you stared into the yellowish, foamy brew.

You were busy tuning the world out, shutting everything down as sweat trickled down your back and all you could hear was the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you; the edges of your vision started to blur as tunnel vision began to set in.

You didn't even notice when Hobie excused himself from the celebrations to gently tug you to your feet, holding your hand firmly in his as he walked you out into the alley behind the pub, the cool evening mist settling on your skin as you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

• Hobie turned you around, bringing you to his chest as he leaned down, his mouth at the shell of your ear.

"Ey, luv. It's alright. Just breathe." He would say.

"I'm here, it's all right. Just breathe slowly, count your breaths, count your heart. Or better yet, count how many times you hear a car honk from some tosspot who don't know what they're doin', eh?"

He smiled when, even in your stupor, a thin laugh snaked out of you.

"That's it, baby. Want more jokes? I got plenty."

"Yes... please. Something to..."

"Ay, ay. Say no more. So, listen to this, right? A pastor and a cop walk into a pub..."

He would continue spitting out horrible joke after joke, even the raunchy ones that made you choke on your own spit. He would keep going until your body was shaking not from your anxiety attack, but your effort to contain your laughter.

When you finally admitted you were ready to go inside again, he smiled happily.

"Kay, luv. Let's continue on with our after-party, huh?"

Eddie/Venom:

• You guys were out at a new club that opened, it took a bit of coaxing on both Eddie and Venom's behalf to get you to leave your apartment and venture out into the night life, but they did it.

However, when they met up with Anne and her boyfriend, you felt the air shift. Being around Eddie's ex just felt so awkward and had your baby hairs standing up as your fingers nervously drummed on your thigh.

Yes, Anne and Eddie were on good terms, but ugh! Why couldn't your brain just shut up for five seconds? Anne didn't hate you, she genuinely enjoyed your company and was happy that Eddie and Venom found someone who could handle them both.

Hell, you'd go so far as to claim Anne probably considered you a friend.

Maybe it was being around her, or the fact your social anxiety couldn't handle the bass of the music, the crowds of dancing and weaving people combined with the loud atmosphere... But you buried your face in your arms as you leaned against the wall, your back to the throng of the crowd.

You could feel eyes on your back, you swore you could hear people talk about you, which only compounded the feelings that settled a heavy weight in your chest as you felt tears start to break free from the dam you tried to erect.

You jumped when you felt a hand slide to the small of your back, and turned to see Eddie, his thick eyebrows curved upwards in concern. You felt his hand slip under your back, and that's when you realized he'd grown claws, his grip was cooler as it touched your sweaty skin.

It was Venom, he was trying to comfort you too. In fact, he could feel something was wrong with you the whole night, straining his alien senses and tuning them to your body from within Eddie. He knew the moment you'd slipped away that something was wrong, and like a bloodhound, he helped Eddie sniff you out in the bustling crowd.

"Babe, you okay? Wanna go home?" Eddie would ask, leaning in to your ear as Venom stroked the skin of your back.

When you silently nodded, feeling a small sob bubble up from you, Eddie whipped out his phone, sending a frantic text to Anne about your condition.

'What are you waiting for? Go home! Seriously! Panic attacks are no joke, Eddie! Shoo!' Anne responded.

Eddie chuckled and shook his head, carefully picking the least crowded places to weave into to get you out of the club faster.

• Once outside, Eddie would sit you down on his bike, rubbing your shoulders in soothing motions as he leaned in, his mouth by your ear, talking you through your panic attack.

"Hey, babe... Do you want Vee to bond with you for a bit? To help even things out? I know you said you don't want to use him like a crutch, but he wants to help. He feels bad for helping talk you into this and not stop it sooner." He whispered.

You consent, and Eddie touches your hand, enough skin contact to let Venom covertly slink onto you, fusing beneath the pores in your skin to flow through your body.

Venom immediately sets himself to work, trying to even out the chemicals your brain was pumping out and filtering them with better ones, slowing your heart and breathing to better levels.

You knew Venom, doing this for you, would probably need to consume more chocolate or... well. Some criminal's brain to help him recover from this endeavor, later.

"Don't worry, little one." Venom's voice would purr inside your head. "It's a task I do gladly. And besides, at least you don't call me a parasite."

You giggle around a sniffle as your crying stops, and Eddie smiles at you.

"Let me guess--Vee is bitching because I call him a parasite, huh?" He snorts.

You nod and he laughs again, rubbing your arms once more. "C'mon babe, let's go. Wanna take the scenic route?"

Your watery smile makes his heart leap, and when you nod, he secures your helmet on you, buckling the chin straps before planting his on his head.

"Hmph. You don't need a helmet when you have me." Venom grunted.

When your arms slip around his waist, he feels the tension leave his body. Having Venom separate from him filled him with a sense of his own anxiety, or maybe his empathy was causing yours to bleed into him.

As the bike started up, you hear Venom's voice in your head again:

"Don't worry, little one. We will always be here for you."

(Bonus:)

Peter A Parker (Spider-Medic):

• It all started when you were in one of the exercise rooms in HQ, working on your forms and techniques as Peter A taught you how to fight like a soldier, like he was taught before he was shipped out to Vietnam, while Miguel practiced nearby, giving you pointers over his shoulder as he beat up the punching bag in front of him.

You weren't sure how it happened, maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your system, or maybe it was the atmosphere around you, the sound of grunting, of weights dropping to the floor, the paf! Paf! Paf! of Miguel hitting his bag, or the overall stress of the last few missions finally collapsing onto your shoulders; but you fell to your knees, clutching your chest as you feel like your lungs were about to give out on you, a cold sweat beading on your brow.

Miguel could hear it, but he knew it wasn't his place to rush to your aid, instead he allowed Peter to do it. You were far closer and more comfortable with Peter, so you would be more likely to calm down with him instead of Miguel.

He was your boyfriend after all.

Peter had brought you into one of the closets where the spare weights were located, quickly sitting you down on the floor and kneeling in front of you, two of his fingers at the jumping vein in your neck, tracking your pulse.

• Being a veteran who saw hell on the battlefield, Peter was no stranger to panic attacks and anxiety thanks to his PTSD from his time in the trenches as a medic. So when his partner experienced them he came in clutch.

Peter would look at you, lowering his voice as he said soft, sweet things to you.

"Slow your breathing, sweetheart. Can you do that for me? Count down from ten. Then, I want you to count from fifteen to twenty-five. That's it. That's it, honey."

When that didn't work, he would bring you in close, resting his forehead against yours.

"Want me to tell you a story?"

He knew you liked hearing about his time as a medic, about the places he'd been. And he knew that you knew it was therapeutic for him to do it. He knew that you liked helping him.

You would nod, and he would cup his hands around your ears to ease the sounds from the outside world, speaking in a voice only you could hear.

When your heart and breathing finally got down to a level he deemed safe, he would kiss your cheek and whisper, "Come on. Let's get you to medical. You can take a nap in one of the suites to help relax."

"Can you stay with me?"

"Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you alone after this?"

[prettyboykatsuki]

are you awake yet

is it time to talk about boot humping bakugo

safe with you | k. bakugou

✮ cw ; afab + gn!reader, boot-humping but loving akjdkjd, mutual masturbation, facials, the title sir, sub!reader, soft dom!bkg , praise and adoration bc its bkg <3 18+

✮ wc ; 1.5k (??)

✮ a/n ; i am awake sorry this came at 3am though ajhjdjk. also they have a very established switch for switch dynamic. writing my yearly dom bkg content lmao

also this is not the most original concept but its my iteration so i hope thats alright

It's not even that he's being particularly demeaning to you. You'd have to initiate it, because Bakugou always has been a simple person during sex. He's always busy but he's home today after early dismissal. Has on those thick, black boots with hefty rugged soles.

He's cleaned them off after coming from his job. So clean the light of your living room is bouncing off the bronzey metal.

And you're sitting on the floor of your living room. You come crawling towards him mostly to rest your head on his lap or just give him a nudge. You notice he looks good. He always does. Has the most handsome face even when it's twisted into a scowl - at home it's relaxed. The soft curve of his jaw, the pull of his lips - all flat nose bridge and pretty, straight lashes.

Clean, shiny boots. His costume is still on. Mask is pulled up and pushing his hair back. He hasn't even taken off his gloves today, not yet. His arms are muscular stretched over his head in exhaustion. enough to see his midriff coming through. Wispy blonde hairs in a trail above the low hand of his pants.

You rest your chin on his knee and he looks at you fondly. Lovingly. even though he usually looks so mean there's a warm, watery look to his eyes as he reaches his hands out towards you. He rubs your cheek with his gloves on. Pets your head so tenderly it makes you feel like you'll melt into the floor.

"Hey," He hums, a small smile on his lips. so full of mirth you can't breathe "Miss me so much?"

"Stupid question."

"I'm rubbin' off on you more and more everyday," He says. You laugh because it's true.

"You look really good right now," You offer bluntly. His face splits into a grin. A smirk, really - the kind where it barely flashes his teeth. In another life he has canines, fangs sharp enough to rip through you.

"That right?"

This part of him, so riddled with confidence, always makes your stomach feel like it's burning. So often Bakugou is rational and relative. A little irritable, a little ridiculous. It's been a long road, and he's finally at that place where the confidence is well-earned. No longer misshapen inferiority tacked together with anger.

But real, unshakeable confidence. He believes you when you tell him that he looks good. He gets a little cocky about it, and it only ever makes him sexier. Only he could ever pull it off. A wave of desire washes over you, a heat. You nod absently, and it's like something switches in him. A tenderness that's sharpened with love, with want.

"You wanna do something about it?" He gathers, maybe from the look in your eyes. You nod and he smiles again, a little fiercer this time around.

"And what's that? Gotta tell me or i won't know for shit."

"On your boots. Wanna—"

"Wanna hump my fucking boots?" And he laughs, breathless, a tent pitching that you can see from where you sit "Really?"

"Uh-huh. Can I?"

"I'd never say no to you, sweetheart." he says, clicking his teeth like it's the most obvious thing in the world "Go ahead. Do it like you fucking mean it."

"Yes, Sir."

A switch flips off in him. You can see it on his face, the realization washing over him. He laughs a little to himself. So it's like that, written all over his face. You rest yourself on his leg, a feeling welling up inside of you that you can't describe.

You scoot a little. Line yourself up along the edge of his boot, your clit touching the roundest part. You're glad you're wearing shorts, even though you're so certain that they're going to be soaked through because the direct contact might too much. You're worked up and wet and aching.

Bakugou is gentle. He's kind, a sort of pride rolling off him in waves as he guides your head to his leg. You press your cheek against his thigh.

"Want somethin' to watch, baby?"

"Yes. Please." You answer back. Small and simple. He laughs a little but abides your request. You watch carefully with your head tilted, as he pulls his cock out from his pants.

Half-hard, thicker than it's long with the tip and aching red that leaves heat crawling up your neck. He reaches forward to you, cupping his palm and giving you a tilted smile. The removal of his gloves is so painfully deliberate. Calloused hands, but beautifully thick fingers. You spit in his palm obediently, staring as it drips down his shaft. He goes slow, palms fisted around the base of his cock as he strokes it.

"Go on," He encourages, tender but teasing "Make yourself feel good."

So you do. It takes a little effort to work up to the right rhythm. You have to hold onto his leg - feel the hardness of as you anchor yourself up enough to roll your hips. It doesn't feel good until it does. Until there's enough pressure on you that you moan out. Your eyes are fluttery as you stare Bakugou.

And he's watching you so intently, fixed on the sight of you underneath him. There's something that always borders on obsessive when you get like this. Makes his chest swell up with pride that you want this, want him enough to hump against the steel toes of his work boots. You look damn good doing it, eyes hazy and shorts slowly riding up - curve of your ass and the bend of your knee making it hard for him to breathe.

The room is so thick with lust you can taste it in the back of your mouth. Bakugou strokes his cock, melting into the couch - head thrown back but always looking at you. He reaches a free hand out to touch you, using his thumb to wipe drool from the corner of your lips.

"So damn messy," He say, tucking his thumb into your mouth "You're gonna ruin my work pants, baby."

"Sorry." You hum. He chuckles.

"Making a mess of my boots too, probably." He hums, low as you suck his thumb "Gonna 'em all shiny, huh?"

A whine escapes your throat, a garbled and desperate sound as something gets all knotted up inside of you. The descent is slow and impatient. Makes your breath hitch hard with such utter need. You can feel it, how good you're feeling. How wet your getting, how even through the material there's more of a slip than it would be. And every time you open your eyes up - Bakugou is staring at you.

Peering at your needy expression with red eyes, thumb over slit and shivering from his sensitivity. It's the sight of you that he's using to get off. He's excited watching you be desperate, watching your expression change into one of utter devastation.

You're his favorite, messy angel. The sweetest thing in the whole world when you're like this. It makes Bakugou want to take care of you. Guide you gently, patiently towards the edge. Pushes all of his pride down and replaces it with devotion hard enough to swallow you - to make the glassy look in your eyes feel so fucking earned.

He does earn it. Earns his titles, always. Like Sir is just as important as Mr. Dynamight. Always earns that sweet fucking face you make when he fucks you into a stupid mess. You're beautiful like that, really. Beautiful when you're ruined, when you give him the wheel to take you where you need to go.

He softens his voice for you, just enough timbre to make your insides hot and sticky. "You wanna cum, don't you? Wanna cum humping my fucking boot."

"Yes, Sir."

"So well-mannered when you want something." He praises, though it sounds a little mean "Look at you. Didn't even get to take my work clothes off."

You want to say sorry. You're too close to think of the fact he's teasing you and that part of you makes him wrought with affection.

You feel hot as you whimper.

"C-can I cum, Sir? P-please, oh, pleaseplease."

"Close your eyes, sweetheart." He says, a tremor in his voice "Let's cum together."

You close your eyes and listen well as you let yourself go. It takes you a minute to get there, but the minute you pulse the first time - you feel something hot spill out against your cheek. You think it gets on your clothes too but you can't really tell. You're too busy cumming with him, all of you unravelling as you pulse and thrash and hold on so tight to Bakugou like your life depends on it.

You cum hard - eyes still closed. You hear Bakugou mumble something above you as you catch your breath. Some plastic crinkling and the feeling of something wet wiping off your cheeks. You wait until he's done to peel your eyes back open.

"Still with me? Feeling okay?" He checks in. You yawn but don't move.

"Yeah. Wanna say here for a bit though."

He laughs, petting your head.

"You look real comfortable."

You laugh with him.

"I am. I kinda see why you do this so much."

A flush spread on his face.

"Shut up."

[psuedosugu]

thinking about suguru with a siren reader…

notes: this has been in my drafts for a hot hot minute and i hope yall see my vision also i made a discord server that you guys should join 😊

- the job of a siren was a simple one. sing your melody, entrance the captain just enough so that they would crash the ship, and done.

you never felt any guilt for what you did. these men were trespassers, after all, littering and casting their nets in your sea. sometimes you wonder how one could be so inconsiderate.

one particular night, the sea swirled around you, your only source of light being the stars twinkling and the fire that had started on the now crashed ship, impaled by a sharp rock. men jumped off of the slowly sinking wreck, soon drowning in the harsh, cold water. you watched from a distance, with a sense of pride in your chest—

and then you spotted something. or someone, for that matter. he was young, couldn’t be older than 20, with long dark hair. you weren’t exactly sure of what about him caught your eye so fast, but you were enthralled.

you swam closer to the burning ship, desperate to get a closer look. he had a look of terror in his eyes, debating on whether to jump or not. as the fire spread more and more, he realized he had no choice, bracing himself and leaping into the dark mass of water.

you freeze, unsure of what to do. you’re supposed to leave him alone, to let him face his watery grave. he brought it onto himself, anyways, and direct interaction with humans is forbidden in the pod, lest you be captured and their cover blown, but….

you sigh, swimming to where the nearly unconscious man bobbed above and below the water and propelling to the nearest land available, a remote island just a few miles away. once you arrive, you plop him exhaustedly onto the sand.

“hello? hellooooo? are you dead? i hope you’re not dead, that means i dragged you out here for nothing. helloooo??” suguru wakes up to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your damp hand lightly slapping him on the cheek.

he’s…..relaxed at first. your voice was like a symphony, a contrast with your harsh words. it made him feel so warm…

and then he remembered. crash. fire. sinking. and the deep, dark cold.

he sits up with such fervor that you flinch, shifting slightly away. “where…what- what happened? they’re- they’re all dead, aren’t they? oh god- oh god, oh god, oh god oh god oh god-“ he mutters under his voice, hyperventilating. you sit there, indifferent to his panic.

“um….are you…okay?” you asked. he darts his eyes towards you. you were beautiful, with looks that were almost hypnotic. hen his eyes darted down to your tail, shiny and greenish. he shifted back, not completely sure if he was hallucinating or not.

“…what- what are you?” he stammered out with wide eyes. you shrug. “you know, i was more expecting a ‘thank you for saving my life,’ but thats a fine enough reaction, i guess,” you said matter-of-factly, with a somewhat amused smirk on your face.

“no- i, i need to get back, i-“ you eye him. “well, there isn’t much land close to over here sooo…id say your chances of being rescued are pretty slim.” you shrug. his eyes are wide, not believing what was happening. this was a dream. this was a dream and he would wake up any minute now, right? but the sand underneath him, and the soft breeze hitting his face felt all too real.

“….well?” you frowned, folding your arms. “you gonna do anything other than looking shellshocked?” humans are boring, you realized. you two sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few more seconds before you turned around to leave. the pod would start looking for you soon, after all, but then—

“wait!” you paused at the mans voice. “don’t go yet.”

“….why?”

he hesitated. “how does that….thing work?” he asked, pointing to your tail. you shrugged in response, “same as a fish, id suppose.”

“what’s your name?”

“[name]. yours?”

“suguru.”

—and then marked the start of a strange routine. you’d sneak out to go visit suguru when you could. he fed on wild fruits and berries, keeping himself alive. sometimes you’d bring him some food yourself.

you liked how he reacted to things. he was unique, a new specimen for you to observe, and as the almost complete isolation started to drive him mad, you turned into the anchor he clung on.