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#* The eyes that let you know that I am loved — (( daze answers )) *
chaosluvers · 2 years
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Daze’s Tag Dump
* The fact that there is no more tomorrow in our yesterday that was today — (( daze x muse name )) *
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mingtinys · 21 days
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" i am so proud of you "
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pairing : hansol chwe x gn!reader
"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"
warnings : language
word count : 0.6 k
a/n : got a little carried away with this one , something about writing for vernon is just so fun
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"I was thinking, why don't we go out tomorrow to that restaurant you really like? To celebrate and all."
"I'd really like that." You call back, glancing over at your boyfriend who is still busy washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Though he isn't looking directly at you, you can just make out the excited look in his eyes and the toothy grin gracing his lips. He's been like that since you told him about your promotion at work. Honestly, you didn't expect him to make such a fuss over it. It was a relatively small promotion, just a raise and a slightly higher title. But that sunny expression on his face could make someone think you'd hit CEO status.
"I'll make reservations after I finish up here." His words are barely audible over the running water. You're about to thank him when your phone buzzes to life beside you.
Incoming call from Boo Seungkwan.
Seungkwan? You think, narrowing your eyes at the screen. Why on earth could he be calling you and not Hansol?
"Hello?"
"Y/N!" His excited voice comes through the speaker. "You're not busy right?"
"Not really, no. Why, what's up?"
"I— well we all wanted to call and congratulate you on your promotion!" A chorus of voices flood your phone and you take it you're on speaker with the rest of the members.
"That's very sweet of you all, thank you." It's nice, having so many people in your corner cheering you on. "But how'd you know? I only just found out about it a couple hours ago."
"You're joking right?" It sounds like Chan. "Hansol won't shut up about it in the group chat."
"He talks about me?" You ask no one in particular
"Yeah, like an annoying amount." That's definitely Mingyu.
There's a short altercation on the other side of the call, probably Seungkwan trying to wrestle his phone back from various members. But you don't pay much mind, the warm feeling in your chest taking over all other senses. You let your gaze drift back to Hansol, who is now on his laptop, nodding along to whatever song is currently playing in his head.
"Just, give it here—! Sorry about that," Seungkwan's voice jolts you from a daze. "Anyways, we just wanted to give you our compliments. We'll let you get back to your night."
Good, because tears are already welling up at your lashes and you're not sure how much longer you can hold back the stitch in your throat. "I appreciate it, tell everyone I said thank you."
You hang up before Seungkwan can respond and promptly make your way to the kitchen. Hansol's nose is still buried in his laptop, eyes squinted as his fingers peck at the keys. "Okay," He says upon the realization of your presence. He hits the enter key rather dramatically. "Reservations are made and you're . . ." His words teeter off when he looks up, met with your tear-filled gaze.
He takes a beat. Brows furrowed and head cocked to the side. "–You're crying. Shit, wait— why are you crying?" Hansol panics. He rushes to you, taking your face between his warm hands. Holding you the way one would hold fine China. Carefully, his thumb comes to swipe a stray tear from your cheek.
"You tell your members about me?" You sniffle. Hansol's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes like a fish before he conjures up an answer. "Was I not supposed to?"
The pure concerned cluelessness in his voice makes you giggle and he seems to relax when he realizes he's not in trouble. "I just didn't know you bragged about me like that, it's sweet."
"I am so proud of you,"  Hansol speaks with unashamed sincerity. "Why wouldn't I brag about your accomplishments?"
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taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat
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kissatoru · 7 months
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★ ₊˚ PUNISHMENT
content. bratty sub!satoru, afab!satoru, amab!reader, dom!reader, dom/sub dynamics, restraints, pussyjob, that good old praise-degradation combo, thigh-fucking, pet names (doll, darling, sweetheart), fingering, squirting, oral (f! receiving), overstimuation
wc. 2.4k
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satoru loves punishments.
overstimulation, edging, spanking... they all wear the same thin veil of the word ‘punishment’ but to satoru they are anything but. he knows that he shouldn’t be trying to get punished on purpose, but who can blame him when your punishments are always so sweet? you always give him what he wants in the end, which is what you both want, really. that’s why he’s never worried when you threaten to ‘teach him a lesson’ or other such things, because the truth is they never taught him anything except that he loves punishments.
well, until now, that is.
because now he’s on his back, wrists secured to the headboard by handcuffs and legs bent all the way up his torso. his head thrashes in different directions, unable to decide whether to look down at the cock sliding between his folds, hoping that he might be able to will it inside of him with his quivering lip and puppy dog eyes or sheer force of will, or squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the sight of you being so close yet so purposely far from where you wants you.
“ohh my god, please,” satoru whines, yanking on the cuffs and trying to move his hips up. “please, just– fuck, just put it in!”
you scoff and dig your nails into the pale flesh of his thighs. “don’t forget what got you here in the first place, slut,” you snarl. “you’re only getting as much as i want you to get and nothing more.”
satoru flops his head back, milky white hair sticking in sweat-slick swirls on his forehead. “i know, i’m sorry! i really am, okay?” he mumbles, kneading his pink lips together to fight back a moan, or maybe a sob. “i promise i won’t do it again, just–” a sharp inhale, followed by a soft keen. “just please put it in. i need it... so bad.”
“you should have thought about that before letting that fan flirt with you,” you say, almost laughing. “honestly, you’re so fucking shameless sometimes, ‘toru. you think i don’t know you do that shit on purpose? you really think i believe you when you say you won’t do it again?”
he smirks, as if your questions are a challenge, and opens his mouth to answer — he really doesn’t know when to quit, you think, or maybe he does, and he just enjoys pushing you that bit further anyway — but you let go of one of his legs and seal his lips shut behind your palm before he can speak.
“i know you don’t. i know you just think i’ll play along with your little games as long as you keep giving me the same boring apology and a few pretty crocodile tears.” you lean in close to him, at the same time, pushing your hips forward and grazing satoru’s clit, making him moan into your hand. “but i’m not in the mood to play anymore, satoru.” you watch as his expression morphs from dazed to alert, how it falters and his eyes tremble like ripples through water at your dark tone. “i want to make you mean your promises and sorry’s,” you say quietly, your hand sliding down his jaw to rest around his neck as a warning, “i want to give you something to really cry about.”
and then you’re shutting the gap between you with a hard kiss, full of tongue and desperation, so passionate and addictive that it’s nothing short of evil how you break it in mere seconds, leaving behind a breathless, pouty satoru. you just smile at him and drive your hips slowly forward, the movement smooth and easy with satoru’s slick.
you set a pace that’s just enough to tilt him in the general direction of pleasure, but never quite bring him there. the head of your cock bumps against the underside of satoru’s clit on almost every thrust and all he can do is cry out, his back arching weakly and his arms pulling taut in the air against the handcuffs that bind him, at the fleeting spark of euphoria that zaps through him. it’s good yet not nearly enough to get him any closer to cumming, and bucking his hips up in search of that spark is not only useless, but surely pathetic, if the way your cruel gaze glints is any indication.
his thighs can only twitch in your grasp like a scared animal; inward, outward, like they can’t decide whether they want to close or spread wider for you. you don’t really give him a choice though; you just bend both of those long legs of his further back, so he’s gently angled toward the ceiling, and each tantalising slide of your cock through his rosy, wet lips causes the head to catch against his entrance. a few times, it even nudges inside for a single blissful second, and satoru chokes, but never manages to let out anything more before that second is over and that brief feeling of his walls stretching around you vanishes, like a too-good-to-be-true mirage in a neverending desert.
satoru’s mind and body go numb with the endlessness of it all. he begs and wails for a while, but those moments of fruitless pleading have long passed. now, he is all quiet pants and throaty moans that grow louder with every small wave of flickering ecstasy. damp stains paint the pillows a darker shade on either side of satoru’s face, where he’s been tucking away his drool and tear-soaked face. he feels like a toy, an object for your pleasure, and he’d love it if it wasn’t for the fact that he isn’t getting anything from it.
suddenly, you grab his knees and hoist them over your shoulder, which abruptly snaps your pliant boyfriend out of his trance. his head turns to look at you, the haze clearing up, now replaced with hope and an eager desire twinkling in his owlish blue eyes.
“don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” you say, smirking and patting the side of his ass. “squeeze your thighs together, alright? nice and tight.”
and despite everything, despite all you’ve put him through already, satoru still manages to find the courage, the audacity to grin right then, toothy and daring and insufferable. “and if i do, will you finally put that cock to some use and fuck–”
you pinch his clit and immediately, his words melt into nonsense and his thighs clamp shut around your hand.
“there you go.” you hum and push your cock through a small gap between his full thighs, which is easy enough with how drenched both you and him are. “good boy. keep them together f’me, just like that, that’s perfect.”
satoru lets out a breathy whimper as you start to fuck his thighs. he grows delirious with every thrust, the way your length rubs across his swollen clit ever so slightly. he’s so pent up at this point that it might be enough to make him cum, he thinks, but as you keep going, increasing your pace and the grip around his legs, he only ever gets as far as halfway. he’s wet and hot and shaking but by the time you’re cumming, satoru is closer to tears than he is to an orgasm.
your hands tighten around satoru’s legs for a moment, as your high seizes your body and the last of your cum sputters across his belly, before finally loosening and letting go. his legs drop and fall open, giving you a perfect view of satoru’s messy pussy and the little puddle on the sheets under it. beneath your heavy gaze, it seems to pulse and blush, and satoru’s legs attempt to shut and hide it, but with a single push they’re falling back down and staying there, likely too weak to try again. it almost makes you hard again.
“should’ve been inside,” satoru grumbles.
you roll your eyes. “could have, ‘toru. not should, could,” you correct. “i could have fucked you and came inside, had you not been such a fucking brat.” you emphasise your words with a light, playful flick to his inner thigh.
satoru ignores you and pouts, not meeting your eyes. “you’re mean,” he says under his breath, but the blush spilling from his cheeks to his neck says that he might not be complaining.
you chuckle and lean over him, running your hands up his thighs. “only when you’re bad, darling,” you whisper, trailing kisses up his ribs and nuzzling the soft skin. for a moment, you don’t say anything else. just lay there, listening to satoru’s still rabbit-fast heartbeat.
“though i suppose,” you say, one hand sliding up to his chest, “you’ve been quite good at taking your punishment...”
electricity runs down to satoru’s core and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t dare to say anything, in case you change your mind.
you sit up, and your eyes are on him as you drag your fingers through the ropes of cum painted on his abdomen, collecting it and leaving satoru’s muscles trembling in suspense. he watches you pull away your fingers while your other hand tugs on his folds. the cool air on his warm cunt makes it twitch. you languidly wipe your cum on it and spread it, down to his hole. the movement and its implications are enough to have satoru’s breathing stutter and his legs jump.
his head tosses back when you finally slip a finger inside him. you start pumping quickly after and he moans in time with your steady pace. a second digit soon joins the first, and satoru begins to aid your motions with his own, rolling his hips down, gasping, desperate, frantic.
“slow down, baby,” you coo, but satoru doesn’t listen, too lost in the throes of his pleasure, and only bucks his hips more violently. your other hand grabs and presses it into the mattress, but when that doesn’t stop him, you pull your fingers out entirely.
“nooo, no, no,” satoru cries. “i was close, please, hurry! put them back in, please–”
“just because i’m being nice, doesn’t mean you can ignore me,” you interrupt. “it would be a shame if after all this, you didn’t get to cum, don’t you think, ‘toru?”
the realisation seems to materialise in his eyes and he rushes to nod his head.
you hum. “then be good and listen.” and with that, your fingers are sliding back into him. he keens when you move them, trembling from head to toe with the effort of staying still. it’s slow, at first, but increasing in pace. it doesn’t take long at all for satoru to return to where he was, that teetering edge, the one weakness, the one thing that can break the strongest sorcerer in the world.
his pale skin and even paler hair both shimmer with sweat like moonlight while his feathery white lashes sit on his flushed cheeks like freshly fallen snow. lips the same shade as his cheeks part around melodic notes that flow as if in an endless song.
“so pretty,” you whisper in awe, but satoru doesn’t process the praise, too focused on wanting to cum.
“i’m close, i’m close! please, don’t stop, please!” he begs, his voice all high and strained. he’s always been loud in bed, but he’s most vocal in moments like this one, where he’s finally given what he’s been starved of and wanting since the beginning.
you smile and curl your fingers, bullying that tender spot inside him with short, harsh rubs, in rapid succession of every pump. the cuffs jingle and clink. your arched fingertips squelch in his pussy while your thumb massages his clit. one, two, a few more harsh circles later and he’s squirting all over your hand. his body tenses like a bow string and shakes with the force of his orgasm. a few last spurts of fluid gush out his pussy before he finally collapses on the bed, panting and boneless.
while he floats down from his high, you keep yourself occupied with his pussy, sliding your drenched fingers in and out of his abused hole and watching how it clenches around the digits, like it’s still hungry for more.
the heel of satoru’s foot finds your chest, digging into it, albeit not very strongly. “ngh, st– stop... s’too much,” he mumbles.
“yeah but you like it when it’s too much, don’t you?” you tease, pressing down on that puffy bump inside him and making his weak leg spasm in the air for a moment before falling on top of your shoulder.
a sinister idea flares up in your mind.
you raise him up by his knees and throw his legs over your shoulders, his body almost vertical.
satoru blinks and frowns at you sluggishly. “what are you–”
he gasps, so suddenly that you’d think he had the wind knocked out of him — because your lips are latching onto him and your tongue is lapping up all of his and what’s left of your juices. his ankles lock around the back of your head and his moans wobble like they can barely make it out of his chest in one piece.
“ahh, fuck, wait, wait– please, it’s– ahh, stop, stop, i can’t–”
when you don’t hear the word, the one that would actually stop all this, should he really want it, you continue to eat him out like a man starved. you weave your tongue through his folds, over his throbbing clit, dipping into his still-oozing hole. satoru ruts against your mouth as best he can in this position, completely betraying his own pleas. he doesn’t even realise he’s crying from the pleasure-pain until your voice is vibrating through him — a slurred, “eyes on me, doll,” — and all he sees when he opens his eyes is a wavering blur and a silhouette that sharpens and reveals more of your features the more he blinks.
he cums almost instantly after your dark gaze comes into focus, slightly less violently than before, but still enough that he goes limp and completely motionless, save for the involuntary spasms that pass through him every so often. you set him down tenderly. his chest rises and falls and as you’re unlocking the cuffs around his wrists, he’s smiling to himself with all the energy he has left, because despite how hard you try to change it, to ‘teach him a lesson’...
satoru still loves his punishments.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
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Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.
His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.
It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.
He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.
She sounds… happy.
“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”
Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.
“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.
“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.
He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.
“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”
The message ends.
In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.
See you tonight.
He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.
-
He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.
He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.
The gates spread, at the end.
There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.
But he knows.
He knows.
-
“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.
It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.
He’s never going to know.
“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”
Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”
“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.
Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”
He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.
It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.
“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.
“Don’t,” Steve says.
He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.
They’re all just pretending.
-
He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.
He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.
Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.
And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?
But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—
A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.
Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”
“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.
He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”
It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.
“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”
Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.
“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”
Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.
“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”
Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.
“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”
Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.
Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.
He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.
This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.
Why?
A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.
Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.
Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.
“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”
“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”
Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.
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theemporium · 10 months
Note
i’m so happy you’re in a mauraders mood bc so am i and your content is fulfilling all of my needs ty ty!!!
with that, thoughts on james getting hurt at quidditch and reader comes in to check on him? drugged up jamie confesses love to reader?? something?! idk this is is why you’re the writer and not me lol
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
It was a nasty fall.
You knew quidditch could be quite a rough sport and you knew every player got hurt at some point. Thankfully, most of the injuries that came out of the games could be easily healed and the players would be back in class the next day, resting up before their next game. It was very rare for anything worse than some bedrest and easy days to be prescribed to an injured quidditch player. 
But that didn’t settle the pit of worry in your stomach when you watched James fall. Between the speed and angle he fell at, and the fact the game had to halt for thirty minutes before they could move him off the pitch, it didn’t help that none of you were allowed to see him until a whole two hours after his accident. 
However, the second you received permission from McGonagall, you had quickly joined the others in rushing down to the infirmary wing to see how James was doing. What you weren’t expecting was to find a very loopy James in place of the boy you knew. 
“HEY, IT’S MY FRIENDS!” 
A slightly irritated Madam Pomfrey tried hushing the boy but it was useless as he tried to sit up in his bed by himself—an act that was difficult with the sling confining his right arm—as you all surrounded the bed he was situated in. 
“How you feeling, mate? You took quite the tumble out there,” Sirius asked, watching with some amusement as the bespectacled boy grinned lazily at the group. 
“I feel fine—great, even!” James insisted, letting out a giggle. “I feel fucking fantastic, Pads! You should try some of this stuff!”
Sirius snorted. “Maybe next time.” 
“You too, Moony,” James continued as his eyes searched over the group. “And you, Evans. And don’t think you can hide from me, Mary! And—oh.”
His loud and eccentric movements came to a halt as his eyes fell on you, his lips parting. The only sign you had that he was still alive was the slow blinks as he stared at you, his cheeks flushed and your concern peaked at the idea of him suddenly gaining a fever.
“James?” you called out, your brows furrowed together when he didn’t answer. “Are you feeling okay? Do we need to get Madam Pomfrey again?” 
“Moony,” James finally whispered, still staring at you like he was lost in a daze. 
“Yeah, bud?” Remus was soon by his side, frowning a little in concern as the boy reached out to grip his arm. 
“I can see an angel,” James whispered and Sirius had to cover his mouth to muffle his laughs. “Can you see her?” 
“Uh, what?” Remus muttered in confusion.
“An angel!” he insisted as he pointed in your direction. “Look at her! She is gorgeous, Moony! One of the prettiest fucking girls I’ve ever seen!” 
Your cheeks burned as you pressed your lips together to try and contain your grin. 
“That’s not an angel, Prongs,” Remus told him, now quite amused as he gently patted his friend on the back. “She’s your friend.” 
James whirled his head around. “I’m friends with an angel?” 
“I—” Remus sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, buddy, you are.” 
“Woah,” James murmured as he turned to look back at you. “You make my chest feel funny.” 
You frowned a little. “Funny? Maybe we should—” 
“Like my heart is going boom-da-boom really fast,” James continued, nodding his head. “I like that it does that for you.” 
“Oh,” was all you could say. 
“Who would have thought it would take a bunch of painkillers for Prongs to finally admit how he feels?” Sirius commented from the other side of his bed, grinning widely as his friend stared lovingly at you. 
“Shut up, Sirius,” you murmured, slightly shy.
“He’s in love with you, sweetheart,” Sirius told you in a know-it-all voice.
“No, he doesn’t, he just—”
“Yes, I am,” James interrupted, nodding his head in confirmation. “Like, love love. The good kinda love. The one where I get to kiss you and stuff.”
You tried to tamper down the butterflies in your stomach. “Kiss me and stuff?” 
“All the stuff,” James murmured, yawning slightly as the painkillers started to really kick in. 
“How about you tell me this when you’re not high and we will see where we go,” you muttered, smiling softly as you watched him try to fight the strong urge to sleep. 
“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” James murmured, reaching his hand out to you. 
You took his hand and intertwined your fingers. “Promise. Goodnight, James.” 
“Goodnight, Angel.”
.
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kaicubus · 1 year
Text
Art Block | Xavier T.
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warnings ✩° : smut, thigh riding, making out, being manhandled, non-intercourse sex, light cursing, pretty tame in terms of degradation and praise.
pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader, all characters are of age aka 18+
premise ✩° : as an artist, sometimes stress becomes a blockage to create. some may say artists need a bit of relief from that.
word count ✩° : 2.4k
authors note ✩° : hi hi!! i hope everyone had a safe and happy new years, heres my gift to you bc i know all of you THIRST over this man just like i do, so heres to a prosperous, healthy, happy new year!!
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Making art has always been such an easy task for you. It comes as if it were second nature to illustrate vibrant landscapes and realistic portraits. You're a god at your craft, anyone could tell. Just like you, however, your boyfriend Xavier was the same. Though, like any artist, he occasionally got art block and soon became frustrated with his inability to create art like you.
At times, he resented you for it. Skill and talent came so easy to you after all, so it was hard not to scowl when he was lacking and felt inferior. But Xavier loves you regardless. It’s just that sometimes he wanted to closely observe how you managed to pull it off. 
That brings you to now, locked in Xavier’s art shed with no one but him and his black smog surrounding his head, a vivid image of his stress of not producing any art for the past two weeks. Your eyes, glued onto your boyfriend who every now and then would chew on his lip or nails, still failing to even put a splotch of paint on the pristine, white surface in front of him.
You can tell he’s struggling. However, unsure as to what to do to help, you remain quiet. Usually, the answer to Xavier’s small pouts and quiet stares is easy to figure out, let alone fix, but this time, artist to artist, it was a little more complex than that. Still, you wanted to help as much as possible, even if that meant staying with him for a few more hours.
Suddenly, an irritated sigh breaks your thought process and you look up at the source.
“Xavier when are you going to stop sulking and actually do something?” You groan as well.
Your boyfriend’s brows arch downwards, softly adjacent to his slightly cracked, wet lips parted to reveal the tips of his top teeth. His expression of dazed shock makes you laugh. “I’m sorry, was there something you had in mind of me doing to get rid of this art block? Perhaps, I don’t know, not verbally assaulting me every few seconds?” He cracks a lighthearted grin.
“Oh come on,” You lean on your open palm and smile, “No art is bad art, unless you know, it’s traced...or completely ripped off...or it’s corporate art.”
“Y/n.”
“Sorry, sorry. But whatever you do is going to be great, so just create already! I’m this close to getting some food and coming back, I feel like it’s going to be a while which I’m ready to stand by for.”
With a swift hand, Xavier runs his fingers through his hair and ties his loose, long locks into a messy ponytail. Watching him is somewhat mesmerizing, maybe because his hair is so soft and so long, effortlessly healthy, and his fingers are so slender and...before you know it his hair is already put up. Xavier presses his lips together and raises his brows, letting out a soft breath of air.
“You know,” Xavier starts, leaning back on his palms and looking towards your direction, “It’s hard to focus when you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” You reply, cluelessly, “What am I doing? I’m just watching.”
“Yeah. Watching.” He clears his throat free from built up stress and gives you a small grin, “Why don’t you come over here instead of looking like a creep?” It’s a joke, but part of it was true since your posture was similar to a crunched up creep, hugging your knees to your chest on a bar stool, surrealistically misplaced in the middle of the entire shed just watching your boyfriend struggle to meet his paintbrush to the canvas.
“Well I don’t want to mess you up. I’ll stay right here.”You point down.
Xavier sighs and shakes his head, turning now to face you completely, “Y/n I’ll focus better if you come and sit by me. Maybe then we can get out of here. I mean, you’re welcome to leave if you really want to. It might take a while.”
“No no, I want to stay. Maybe you just need some motivation? A muse? Some music to inspire you? I always listen to music when I draw, and it works.”
Your smile makes his eyebrows twitch into a thoughtful expression. Instead of taking your advice of music or having a muse, he gets another idea and puts his paintbrush down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just needs the motivation.
“You know what would actually help me?” Xavier nibbles on his bottom lip slightly and looks down, “If you…”
You watch as Xavier taps the tops of his thighs and looks at you with a muffled grin.
“Sit here?” He says finally, a hidden excitement changes his face and causes him to look away for a split second, then back with a more calm aura. He’s trying so badly to contain himself, but you know him too well to carelessly glaze over it, so you decide to tease him a bit.
“Why? Is this motivation for you? Or do you just want to procrastinate?” You smile and stand up from your stool, making your way over to your boyfriend slowly.
“I just thought,” he chuckles breathlessly, “Maybe having you here will turn the gears in my head or something.” His half minded suggestion makes your chest flutter.
“Oh yeah? Really. Is that it?” You sit down on top of Xavier’s lap and wrap your legs perfectly around his waist, “I wouldn’t mind if it were for something else.”
“Not necessarily...”
“Hm?” you hum warmly and gently touch the back of his neck, sending an unexpected shiver down Xavier’s spine, “Not necessarily?”
There was always a feeling of bubbling confidence inside you whenever you knew there was something Xavier wanted. Maybe it’s the specific glint in his big, hazel eyes as he looks up into yours that sends your senses fuzzy and hinders your thought process, but in the next moment you know, your lips are on his and his hands find their rightful place, hugging your hips and digging into your thighs.
With a snug fit, squeezing both legs around his singular one, you situate yourself to where the middle of your legs is properly sat on his thigh. The position is almost natural by the way you seemingly snap onto him as if you were a rubber band reverting back to its meant to be place. Xavier grins a bit into your pliant mouth, making his way onto your tongue with short and abrupt licks.
Desperate to please him and find release yourself, your body starts moving on its own, hips rutting against the roughness of his jeans. Pressing the growing heat surging between your legs onto Xavier’s cold thigh sends an mellow shiver in your system, allowing you to go faster to warm your seat for all the comfort you can get.
Much to his pleasure, Xavier’s mouth stretches out into a thin and permissive smile, unable to hide his satisfaction any longer. Soon enough, mumbles of praise fall just beneath his breath in drawn out, low whispers.
“That’s it,” Xavier says deeply, tickling the raised hair on your neck, “Keep going.”
Following his words, you stuff your face deeper into the fabric of his hoodie and tangle your fingers in the strings, knotting your joints into the ropes for any sort of stability. Your desperation only makes him smile more, biting his tongue in secret as he looks around, happy and content with how he’s able to make such a mess out of you by just getting off on his thigh. Let alone his own words and guidance.
Xavier lowers his big hands to cusp the very edge of your ass, giving it a tight squeeze to earn another breathless moan from you. As if your senses are heightened to their max potential, every feather like touch drives you crazier by the second.
Attempting to catch your breath, you sink your teeth into your boyfriend’s hoodie, using the softness as a means to suppress your mewls of arousal as best as you can. But as he continues to massage your hips and manually move you back and forth on his leg, the effort quickly becomes useless.
“W-Wait a second, Xav—IER!” You're cut off by a blunt force nearly punching your gut, rendering you speechless and sending your hips stuttering. Almost as if he knows, Xavier grins and continues to grind your hips down on a newfound sensitive spot, eager to abuse it more.
“Does that feel good?” Xavier questions, pressing his mouth against the side of your face, “There? Right here?”
You want to speak, but the feeling that rolls inside of your body, moving your muscles to keep rubbing yourself on him doesn't allow you too. Instead, you try again to slow down, this time hoping to go unnoticed by Xavier as you hide your advances with deeper strokes. It doesn't go unnoticed though.
“Huh? No, no, Y/n why are you slowing down?” He leans down and runs the tips of his teeth along the outer shell of your ear once he feels your momentum slow. “You tired?” Xavier chuckles deeply, his condescending tone only making you more weak and immobile.
“X-Xavier it’s too much,” you whimper and grip onto his arm, “I can’t.”
“Can’t? You're really that sensitive you need a break? Come on, I know you can do better than that.”
You shudder in response and find your pace again, faster and longer, continuing to knead yourself against the fabric of his pants. Just as you think there might be a chance you'll get a break, Xavier suddenly picks up his leg and starts bouncing it up and down, moving his head down to see your flushed expression.
Just as he’d imagined, your lips are well parted and your face, well reddened from all the embarrassment and teasing he’s putting you through. For a second, you glance up and meet his gaze, only able to make out his smug yet curious face before you slam your face back into his shoulder and let out a loud moan of ecstasy in response to his bouncing.
“A-Ah, yeah. Does it feel good this way? Better?” Xavier’s breath tickles your ear, reminding you just how close he is.
If this was his way of torturing you, he was sure milking every opportunity of making your life hell. It was working. And he loved it. You pick your head up groggily from his chest and lock eyes with your almost sadistic looking boyfriend and exhale hesitantly, unable to breathe smoothly.
“M-Mhm...It feels so good, Xavier...please don’t s-stop!” You grit your teeth as soon as he hears the words and grips onto your hips roughly, “Hngh!”
”Don’t stop?” Xavier coos, “I’m barely doing anything. I can do more if you really want, if it’ll help you get off faster.”
You didn’t need anything else, you just needed a bit more time. But you didn’t want to just tell him that and feed into his slowly growing hungered desires. The look in his eyes as they burned into your being was hard enough to deal with as it is, what more could he do? Much more, actually. But you two are on a time crunch, as a reminder of your surroundings and the start of the whole thing, Xavier’s paintbrush falls off its uneven platform and startles both you and him.
“Fuck.” Your boyfriend curses quietly, “I can’t focus on that right now.” Knowing you're so close to release makes his patience run thin, and just as you can’t wait for much longer, he can’t either.
Suddenly, Xavier jerks his hips up, catching you off guard and making you cry out instantly, unprepared to counter the pressure pushing up onto your sore cunt. His moment of vigorous movement causes you to fall onto his chest and hold onto Xavier’s arms.
“AHN!” Your head instinctively gets thrown back from all the built up pleasure and finally, you feel your entire body tremble with an immense jittering feeling. Xavier only helps you ride out your orgasm and holds you in place, making small ruts against himself with your spastic thighs gripping around him tighter.
“S-Shit. Oh my God—” He hugs you close and locks his lips over yours, biting down on your bottom lip just enough to secure you in place and refusing to let go. Even though his shed is in the forest away from most people, there’s something inside of him, something possessive, that only wants all the noises you make to be heard by him and him only.
You whine into his mouth and buck against him again and again, making sure to make your orgasm count. Little whimpers fill his throat and he only hums back with a shit eating grin on his face.
When he finally pulls away from you, he watches as a string of saliva breaks and falls against your lips, but you're too tired to wipe your mouth. Xavier opens his mouth and lets out a soft breath of a mixture of pity and laughter seeing you so fucked out and blissfully numb.
“That was so fucking cute, holy shit.” He gives you a toothy grin and swipes his thumb over your swollen and wet lips, moving his attention to your wide and teary eyes once they're dry and still just as soft as they were before when his lips were on yours.
“Ah, hah, ha...” Your relaxation comes out in the form of several pants. As your chest heaves, Xavier just stares at you, softly reassuring you as he combs his fingers through your shirt and up your back.
His soft touches are more than enough to comfort you, but he continues, “So so so good for me...” He glances down at you and grins, “Yeah, good girl.”
Xavier pulls away, looking at your red and sweaty face as well as your equally drenched thighs, grinning at how much your body irks forward and lurches back to the slightest movement of his arms snaking around your sides. The sight of your lips, wet with drool and your eyes, soaked in a slight film of tears pleases him, playing a grin upon his own lips. Before you could question what he was thinking, Xavier’s eyes flicker from your face down to your lower half, your position, your fluttering feeling on his leg. Something about it all made it able for the gears in Xavier’s tortured artist mind to finally spin.
You looked stunning, the perfect picture, and just what he needed to see in order to finally step out of his artist block. If he said otherwise, he’d be lying through his teeth.
Just as he rubs your back fondly, tenderly, and warmly, Xavier kisses your shoulder and drags the tip of his finger along the arch of your back. “Don’t move, I have an idea for a painting.”
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myseungsunglove · 4 months
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Say that again | Bc
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Pairing: Bang Chan x reader
Warnings: fluff, almost smut but mostly just alluding to it.
Word Count: approx. 800
𖠫Summary: After watching Chan’s episode with the Felix and him playing with the twin girls, your mind is sent reeling by thoughts you’d never really entertained before. You voice those thoughts to Chan and find yourself quite surprised by his response.
✎A/N✎: I am not responsible for my sleepy thoughts. The thoughts that prevail and demand to be written BEFORE the damn stories I already have outlined. I guess be thankful you’re getting anything at all at this point. *laughs nervously* Also, domestic Chan makes me so weak and thus this fic was born. Not super edited because I sleepies.
◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈
「© December 28, 2023 by myseungsungheart」
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“Babe? Did you hear me?”
Chan’s voice shakes you from your thoughts. You’d entirely lost track of the conversation. Mainly because your mind was wondering to places you really never had let it before. The two of you had just watched Felix and Chan’s episode with the twins. Watching Chan with those precious little girls had really stirred something in you that you genuinely thought you didn’t want.
“Hmm?” the sound leaves you as your eyes meet his and he smiles softly at your dazed look.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Chan asks, a hint of concern in his voice as he reaches out and brushes his hand lightly against your jaw, this thumb caressing your cheek with care as he holds your gaze.
You find that words don’t immediately spring forth, so instead you lean forward and press your lips against Chan’s. He melts into the kiss, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him on the couch, your mouths moving slowly together as the graze of his touch causes goosebumps to break out on your skin.
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” he chuckles against your lips, pulling away reluctantly and looking into your eyes again.
You sigh. It’s deep and meaningful. Chan can tell whatever you aren’t saying is weighing heavy on your mind.
“That bad, huh?” he asks hesitantly, letting go of your face to grab your hand instead, interlacing your fingers together. “Whatever it is, I’m always here, baby,” he assures you.
You close your eyes briefly, stealing up all the courage you can muster for the next sentence you’re about to utter. It really could change everything and your heart flutters at the thought. Your husband is a busy man, with producing music and working with the boys non stop. Is this really something he’d want? You haven’t talked about it in so long because you really thought you didn’t want this. Now, you are questioning everything you once thought.
“I think I want to you try to have a baby,” you say and it comes out all in a rush as if the sentence was just once giant word strung together.
“What was that?” Chan asks, his brows knitting together in confusion as he chuckles quietly at you.
“I want to have a baby,” you say, this time more slowly and with more certainty. “I know we haven’t talked about it in a long time because I thought I didn’t want that, but…”
Your words are cut off by Chan’s lips crashing into yours, the kiss raw and hungry, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes you back against the couch and hovers over you. He pulls away breathless, his chest heaving, his eyes full of love and hope. Not the reaction you anticipated.
“God,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “Please,” he continues, the trail of kisses moving along your jaw to your neck. “Say that again,” he all but begs as his lips hurriedly kiss up along the column of your neck and back to your mouth.
You reach out for his face then, holding it mere centimeters away from yours and speak again.
“Let’s have a baby,” you whisper.
“I thought you didn’t want,” he starts but you cut him off.
“I thought I didn’t too, but really I just thought I’d make a horrible mom. Didn’t want to end up like mine, you know?”
He watches you carefully, brows knit together again as he stays hovered over your body. He’s shaking his head, but you power through.
“But watching you with those girls made me realize I could do absolutely anything with you by my side. You’d be such a great dad and god i want that for a kid. I want someone to feel so lucky knowing you’re their dad. I want our kid to know that,” you finish, your eyes darting back and forth between his.
“You’re wrong about one thing,” he counters, kissing your lips gently before speaking again. “You’re already great at loving people. You love me for god knows why. You love those seven crazy men I call my members and take care of them. You would make a great mom, of that much I have never had any doubt.”
You pull his lips to yours once more, your fingers running into the hair at the back of his head and hold him to you. You’re crying and you’re not sure when that started.
“Please,” you beg as Chan’s hips settle between yours, his desire for you evident as he presses in closer to you. “Chan,” you can’t stop the breathy moan that escapes you.
“I’d take on the world with you, do anything for you,” he says, pulling away from your lips long enough to look into your eyes. “Including starting a family,” he adds, his hips rolling into you and causing your back to arch up off the couch. “How about we see if we can’t make that happen, hmmm?” he says against your mouth, his hands now freely roaming your body.
“Yes,” you agree, your head spinning. “I love you,” you remind him as his hands move to remove your clothes and make your’s and his dream a reality.
“I love you more,” he assures you, before kissing you deeply once more and giving you everything you’ve hoped for and more.
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ofdreamsnwishes · 1 month
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“You are staring.” Barista!Jaemin whispered in your ear, making you jump and spill the hot coffee on yourself. Swearing under your breath you quickly move to the sink, running some cold water on your hand to, hopefully, avoid getting a serious burn.
The boy snickers behind you, trying to apologize and offering to help, but you know it’s not really genuine, Jaemin is just trying to mess with you, as if annoying the hell out of you was the best part of his day.
“I understand you are the owner’s son and you’re not really obliged to work, but at least try to uphold your parent’s café reputation.” You whisper-yells at him, glaring into his soul, hoping that for once, looks could actually kill.
“Oh I am. I’m making sure that our employees are not slacking off, you know, staring at our costumers with heart eyes…” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. Shit, he knows.
“I wasn’t staring AT the costumers, my gaze just happened to be there.” You defend yourself, too prideful to admit that you were, in fact, staring.
You were trying to convince yourself too, because really, you shouldn’t. Not at Mark of all people. Not at the guy that was currently there waiting for your pretty coworker to arrive.
“Bullshit.’ He deadpans. It was infuriating how he always seemed to look past your excuses. ‘Maybe we should ask Hina and see what she thin-”
A hand flies over Jaemin’s mouth, your panicked eyes meeting his.
“Do. Not.’ A warning. Too bad Jaemin loved the bickering so, of course, he had to poke his tongue out, slightly licking your hand. Pulling away, you shoot him disgusted look. ‘You!”
An awkward cough startled you two out of your argument, Mark standing near the cashier, shy smile and a gentle voice to accompany.
“Sorry to interrupt… But, could you give this to Hina when she comes by? Something came up and I need to leave.” He has a small paper bag on his hands, what you could assume was some kind of jewelry based on the logo. Your heart drops. Right, Hina.
Before you can answer though, Jaemin is quick to talk, swiveling past you and putting on his best customer service smile.
“I’m sorry, we are not allowed to accept gifts from customers.’ It’s a lie. ‘The owners are very strict about it.” Another lie, Jaemin’s parents were sweethearts.
The older boy’s eyes widen, a blush dusting the tips of his ears. “Oh…! Sorry, I didn’t know about that…” He scratched the back of his head, excusing himself and leaving shortly after, a dejected look on his eyes.
It’s silent after that, Jaemin taking the order of the next customer in line and you busy yourself with tidying up the counter.
“What do you even see on him?” The boy beside you asks, once he took all of the costumers orders, putting a hand on your shoulder and moving you aside so he could help with the beverages.
“For starters he is the opposite of you.” You grumble and he lets out a dramatic gasp.
“So you’re telling me I’m not your type?”
You pause, looking at him, syrup bottle midway in the air. Honestly, what went on inside of his head sometimes? You? Liking him? That’s the first thing be asks?
“No?” You give him a side eye.
“Damn… Too bad, you’re exactly my type.”
“…”
“…”
“What?”
Jaemin winked at you, finishing up the beverage he was doing and taking the one you were doing, calling the names on the cups. He acted as if he didn’t just drop this bomb on you.
“Jaemin, what-”
“The customers are waiting, come on, finish their orders first.” He singsongs, not looking in your direction, hands busy cutting a cake slice.
Hesitantly, you turn away, almost dazed as you work on the next order in line. Maybe if you looked a bit closer you might’ve seen the red dusting his cheeks, the back of his neck and tip of his ears. He slipped up.
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sarahscribbles · 6 months
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Aftercare I guess? Idk I wrote this in 30 minutes so yeah lol
W/C: 650
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You’re still panting when Loki slides his cock out of your sensitive cunt. Panting and dazed and exhausted. 
So exhausted. 
He hadn’t been gentle tonight - you had begged him not to be gentle - and now you’re beginning to wonder if you’ll ever walk normally again. It’s been a while since you’ve done a scene this intense, and you feel completely boneless against the sheets. 
Boneless and shaky, but sated. 
Loki had opted for rope tonight and now that the adrenaline is fading from your blood, you’re very aware of how it’s digging into your wrists and ankles. Before you can make even a sound of complaint, though, that familiar shimmer of green dissolves it in the space it takes your heart to beat. 
Instantly, your entire body relaxes. 
“Come here, my darling,” Loki murmurs softly, moving quickly to remove the ball gag that he had secured behind your head. 
It’s messy and you briefly cringe, but much like the ropes, the remnants of your saliva vanish into the air. Slowly, you roll your aching jaw in search of relief, but it’s stiff and still noticeably uncomfortable. 
You stare daggers at the gag that Loki has tossed to the floor. 
His arms are around you quickly, tugging you into his chest and reclining you both back into a nest of pillows. You settle gratefully into his arms and listen to his heart thumping solidly in your ear, still racing ever so slightly from his orgasm. 
“Talk to me, dove,” he whispers into your hair. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head. 
“Hi,” you croak out and nuzzle further into his chest. 
Loki’s hold on you tightens. “Are you alright?” 
You’ve always been alright, every single time, but he always asks. 
“Mmm. Never better,” you hum, feeling the exhaustion of your session bleed into your bones. “Jaw hurts, though.” 
Loki’s fingers are quickly beneath your chin, tilting your head up to allow those pretty green eyes to appraise you. His hand cups your cheek and you feel a soothing warmth that starts on one side of your face and spreads to the other. Just like that, the ache from the gag is gone. 
Loki’s eyes trail down your body until they reach your wrists. He pauses, then wordlessly takes them one by one into his hands, repeating the same action until the ache from the ropes feels like a distant memory. Still, though, he rubs his hand soothingly over one wrist, as though he’s fearful his magic didn’t do enough to comfort you. 
Selfishly, you let him because his touch feels too good and too familiar. You’d drown in it if you could. 
“You were wonderful tonight, my love,” Loki says softly, tucking your head beneath his chin. “You never fail to make me proud. My best girl.” 
You press your lips to his chest. “The ropes were fun.” 
He hums in agreement. “They were, and you handled them so well even when they hurt.” He lifts your wrist to his lips. 
Burrowed against his side, he doesn’t see you roll your eyes. “They weren’t that sore.” 
“My little masochist,” he teases. “Regardless, if they ever hurt, if anything I do to you ever hurts, promise me you will use your safeword.” 
“You know I will, Loki,” you assure him. 
“Good girl. I am so very proud of you, my darling. What did I do so right to deserve you?” he wonders aloud, making your heart swell. 
Exhaustion claims you before you can answer. You try to fight it but the warmth of Loki’s embrace coupled with the comfort of his bed has you fading out like a candle in the wind. The last thing you remember before sleep fully claims you is the heavy duvet being placed over your shoulders and warm lips against your temple. 
You’ve never felt so loved.
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lipglossanon · 6 days
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Shimmer
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Leon S. Kennedy x Fox Fem!reader <one shot>
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, very little world building, smut a plenty 😆, Leon POV, hybrid reader, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex, creampies
not proofread ✌️ just a smutty hybrid au
title from Shimmer by Fuel
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Leon couldn’t believe his eyes. You wind around the trunk of a tree, bright eyes locked on him as a little smile hovers on your lips like a secret. He swallows, tracking your movement, tenebrous colored tail flickering in and out of the tree line. He didn’t know he’d see a pretty little fox this far out. 
Leon planned for his four day weekend to be a relaxing hike in the local mountains, camping for a night (maybe two), and then heading back home to veg out in front of the tv before the next work week starts. He’s been out here in the forest for a few hours now and finally found a place to bed down for the night when you appear. A gray fox isn’t as common as the red, but he’s heard people in town talk about the few that have been spotted out here in Arklay. 
Leon doesn’t consider himself a hardcore outdoorsman, but he at least knows enough about the local wildlife. The closer you get to his little campsite the more enraptured he becomes; you’re absolutely captivating. His fire crackles and keeps him warm despite the chill permeating the night air; he’s afraid to move once you take a graceful seat on the opposite side of his fire pit, flames highlighting the hollows of your face. 
“Hi,” you smile, sharp little fangs glinting at him. 
“H-hi,” he croaks, throat dry so he tries to clear it.
“Camping, hmm?” Your gaze lazily drifts to his tent and satchel before landing back on him. 
“Yeah, needed a break,” he shrugs, hands clasping together to give them something to do, “you live near here?”
“Now why would I tell a stranger where I live?” You laugh, a throaty sound that makes Leon’s blood run hot. 
A flush overtakes his cheeks, “Sorry, I-I’m just making small talk.”
You laugh again, tail shifting to drape across your lap, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”
“Leon. What’s yours?”
He listens as you answer but his eyes can’t stop darting between your perked ears and soft tail. 
“Do you want to pet me?” You grin, tail swishing back to your side. 
“What—no, I mean, maybe,” Leon’s sweating bullets, mesmerized by you but also terrified you might rip his throat out with your sharp little teeth.
Smiling even broader, you stand up and make your way to him, folding down into a crouch in front of him. This close up, Leon quickly takes in your facial features before noticing the small black collar wrapped around your neck; his eyes trace down the modest sundress to your bare legs and feet. 
“Aren’t you cold?” He murmurs, blue eyes roving back up to your curious gaze. 
“No,” you smile, “but I’ll be sure to let you know if I am.”
Leon blushes and you look delighted, kneeling closer to peer up at him. 
“You’re pretty far out for camping, little Leon,” you fingers graze over his jeans, sharp nails making his pulse race, “aren’t you scared you’ll run into some big scary animal?”
Swallowing, he shakes his head no, “I-I brought bear mace and I’m sticking to the game warden trails.”
He watches your head tilt as one of your ears flick back, listening to the dark forest behind you. 
“Hmmm, you should be safe enough then,” your smile returns and Leon feels your tail brush across his arm, “want to see how soft it is?”
With hands steadier than his heart, Leon carefully strokes over the soft fur. It’s more silver than grey with a streak of black that ends at tip of your tail. Some white highlights catch his eye as his hand softly glides down the length. 
“It’s lovely,” he murmurs, dazed eyes coming back up to lock on your bright ones. 
“Thank you, Leon,” you purr, flicking your tail away behind you, ears perking forward, “you’re no slouch yourself.”
You let your nails brush across his sandy blonde fringe before pulling away. Leon doesn’t know what it is but he’s so drawn to you that his defenses are completely down. So he makes no move to stop you when you drag those sharp claw tips across his scalp and down his neck. 
A low groan slips from his mouth and he jerks away, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. You laugh and inch closer, hands moving down to skate up his jean clad thighs before resting on his chest.  
“Little Leon,” you coo, “are you feeling flushed? You look red.”
“I’m,” he coughs, trying to cover up his nerves, “maybe I’m just too close to the fire.”
“Do you need help to your tent?” You hold his gaze, your little grin showing off an incisor, “don’t want you to pass out.”
Your fingers drum across his pecs and he has the intrusive thought of you ripping into his shirt to tease his nipples. Biting back another groan, he nods jerkily. 
“I should probably lay down,” he clumsily stands, watching as you easily stand next to him, hands hovering over his shoulders. 
“I’ll help,” you take his arm and guide him the few feet away over to his accommodations for the night.
Pulling back the flap, you help Leon ease down onto his knees so he can kick off his boots before placing them inside next to the opening. Before he can thank you, you crawl in next to him, tail brushing across him as you splay out on his sleeping bag. 
“Comfy,” you pat the space next to you, “come lay down, Leon.”
His cock twitches in interest and he quickly zips the tent closed; the light glow of the fire can still be seen through the mesh. Moving over to you, he copies you, lying on his side with his head propped against his arm.
“Figured you might like some company tonight,” your eyes drop down to his mouth, “don’t want you to feel scared.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulse thundering in his neck as you shift closer, legs tangling with his. 
“Maybe,” you murmur, lips ghosting across his, “you should get comfortable for bed.”
Without any other prompting, he quickly shucks off his jeans and socks before taking his shirt off just leaving him in his briefs. His cock sits half hard against his thigh and he watches as your greedy eyes take him all in.
“Mmm, not bad,” you grin at him, tail waving back and forth behind you. 
He settles back where he was and you move into his space, lips kissing across his jaw before pressing softly against his own mouth. With a groan, Leon lets your hot tongue lick into his mouth, hips rolling forward until you finally push him on his back and lay atop him. You break the kiss once to stare down in his face while you rock your wet little cunt against his bulge before lapping at his parted lips. 
Kissing you messily, Leon can’t stop from moaning and groping your ass through your sundress. The hard press of your nipples against his chest makes him grind against the apex of your thighs even rougher. Pulling away, you raise up into a sitting position over his lap. Your sharp nails tease across his pink nipples and his whole body jolts like he got an electric shock. 
“Oh, Leon,” you grin. 
He feels powerless while your fingers pinch and tug his stiff buds until he’s mewling and rocking up into your ass. Hands grabbing onto your thighs, he presses your dress up until he can see your bare cunt coated in clear slick that makes his mouth water. 
“Sit on my face,” he pants, “fuck, sit that fucking chubby pussy on my face, please.”
“What a dirty boy,” you lean forward and bite his nipple. 
Leon keens in his throat, a sharp high noise he’s never made in his life. Fuck, he thinks he might cum from just you abusing his nipples. His eyes flutter as your wet little mouth decides to suckle and tease his swollen buds; your sharp teeth scraping across them has his cock weeping precum, staining his briefs. 
“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep that up,” he finally gets out, hands tangling in his own hair, “fuck, please baby, sit on my face.”
“I guess since you’re being so good,” you sigh, sitting up to pull your dress up and off, nude body coming into view for the first time. 
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, eyes sweeping down your body. 
Your ears twitch and you smile, “You’re so sweet, Leon. Now sit back so I can ride your face.”
“Please,” he whines, helping you crawl up his body.
As you move, Leon shimmies his briefs down and off his legs. Your knees then rest on either side of his head and you gently sit your fat dripping cunt down onto his face. With a moan, Leon’s lapping and sucking up all of the slick coating your pussy lips, tongue running up and down your slit. Settling more of your weight down, you relax against him and he humps the air, cock drooling everywhere as he licks your pussy. 
“So good, Leon,” grinding your cunt down on his mouth, he flattens his tongue letting you rut against the slick muscle. 
He moans, hands cupping your ass to keep you from moving off of his face. Even if he suffocated, Leon would die a happy man. Chillbumps race down his body when your tail brushes over his chest and stomach. The soft fur of your tail eventually drapes itself over his stiff and leaking cock making him lap eagerly into your cunt, tongue fluttering against your pussy walls. 
“Right there,” you purr, nails carding through his hair and scratching at his scalp, “suck on my clit and I’ll cum all over your pretty mouth, Leon.”
More precum leaks from his slit, cock so swollen it aches. His eyes shut in an effort to control himself, control his thoughts before he cums all over himself like some virgin. You rock and grind down on his tongue, low moans filling the tent as he laps along your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Keening, you press your bodyweight down, making sure he stays suckling your swollen bud until your orgasm finally overtakes you. 
Leon moans just as loudly as you do, drinking up your slick like he’s a man dying of thirst. You undulate in place until the overwhelming feeling of his mouth has you shifting back down into his lap with a pleased little hum. 
“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps, eyes blown out as he takes in your relaxed posture.
“Glad to know,” you tease, running your hands down his pecs and across his puffy nipples. 
He lets out a low hiss but doesn’t stop your touches. Your soft hands drift down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock before sweeping down his thighs. 
“Finally,” you sigh, one hand slowly stroking his dick while the other cups his balls, “a nice fat cock.”
Said cock jerks and leaks even more into your palm, balls throbbing as Leon watches you play with his dick. 
“Fuck,” he whimpers, slowly rocking his hips up, “you like it?”
“Mm hmm,” you purr, “I’ve had lots of men over the years, but you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”
A spark of jealousy lights in his chest but it’s washed away by the twist of your wrist around his tip making him lose all train of thought. 
“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” you whisper, eyes flashing, like it’s a secret— Leon supposes it might honestly be, “someone to mate.”
His cock kicks, a glob of precum dripping over your fingers where they’re wrapped around his length. You use the sticky wetness to glide your hand more easily up and down his dick, slowly jacking him off. He groans, hips pumping but you only loosen your grip with a sly little grin. 
“Please,” he murmurs, “it hurts.”
“Does it?” You pout, hand softly massaging his sac before tracing the seam down to his taint, “poor little Leon wants to cum?”
“Uh huh,” he drops his head back with a broken moan, “please, w’nna cum for you.”
“Oh?” 
The way your voice piques with interest has his gaze lasered back in on your face. Your attention is focused on his cock but he sees the want sitting as heavily on you as he feels.
“Since you’re being so sweet,” your eyes flick to his and you hold the connection as you rub his cock over your slippery clit, mouth dropping open to pant. 
“God, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands grabbing your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones, “please, please.”
You press his cock against his stomach and glide your soaked cunt up and down—the world's most torturous pussy job he thinks dazedly. His tip leaks so much there’s a small sticky puddle of precum forming on his stomach as your slick coated pussy lips part around his cock, hole dripping and rubbing against him. 
“You’re going to stretch me open so much,” you coo sweetly, tail swishing excitedly behind you, “hope you don’t cum too soon.”
Before Leon can even argue, you tilt his cock up and sink your pussy down on him; he knows he’s gripping you too hard, but he can’t let go when your hot little cunt’s sucking him in so agonizingly slow. 
He’s babbling too, but fuck if he knows what he’s saying; whatever it is, you don’t mind since you’re giving him that same throaty laugh from earlier that makes him wanna spill deep in your greedy hole.
It feels like a lifetime before you start to bounce on his lap, pussy squelching deliciously, making his mouth flood with saliva knowing what you taste like. The pace picks up and before he can blink, you’re riding him rough and fast, pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice. 
“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, hands going to your hips ready to pull you up and off so he can spill all over your pussy.
He feels like a fucking teenager, not able to hold back on cumming inside your pussy like he’s never fucked a woman before. Hybrid pussy must be something else, he thinks dizzily, cock throbbing as your slippery walls pulse and throb around his thick length. 
“Cum inside,” you moan, nails digging into his forearms so harshly blood runs down his arms. 
The pinprick of pain makes him buck up harder into your spasming hole. His brain fizzes in arousal, dick buried balls deep in your soaked cunt. 
“Can’t,” he gasps, “fuck, what if you get pregnant?”
His cock thickens at the thought, balls tight against his body, at the hint of knocking you up. You laugh, that throaty sound that makes Leon throb, and you grind harder down on his lap. 
“Then mate me, little Leon, spill your seed deep inside and give me kits,” your lips spread in a smile so wide your fangs show, “breed my pussy like your cock’s begging you to.”
“Oh god,” he whines, “I-I can’t,” but he doesn’t stop himself from fucking into your pussy harder and deeper, balls aching to shoot his load.  
“Aww you can’t?” You mock, guiding his hands up to grab your breasts, “can’t fill my cunt with your thick cum? Can’t breed a wet pussy that wants it so bad?”
He’s losing the battle. It just feels too good inside your fluttering walls while he rabbits his hips against yours, cock stuffing you on every thrust. He squeezes his hands until your tits spill over his fingers, nipples hard against his palms. 
“Make me a mommy, Leon,” you croon, voice saccharine sweet in his ears and he nods before even realizing what you’ve said. 
“M-mommy?” He slurs out, body flushed and overheated as he fucks up into your cunt. 
You giggle and lean forward, “Mm hmm, you like mommies, Leon?”
He gasps, eyes rolling back as he leaks heavily inside your hole, “Ye-yes. Love mommies.”
“Good boy,” you murmur, dropping a dizzying kiss to his lips and he chases your mouth with a moan. 
“Mommy, want you to be a mommy,” he babbles out, brain complete mush now from the arousal, “want you to be my mommy.”
“Ohh?” You sigh gustily and lean forward more, pressing your breasts into Leon’s face. 
Taking the hint, Leon’s hand shift down to your ass so he can mouth and suck at your tits, licking and suckling your nipples as he thrusts sloppily. 
“Mommy,” he murmurs, tongue lapping at the soft skin of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. 
Whining, his eyes flutter shut. If he breeds your cunt, you’ll leak milk from these gorgeous tits. He moans loudly, the thought turning him on so much he can’t stop sucking your nipples. He pumps his hips up into your soaked cunt, feeling you drip slick down his cock to drip off his balls. 
“So hard, Leon,” he distantly hears your voice, “being such a good boy for me, fucking your mommy so good.”
Mewling against your breasts, he bites the puffy bud in his mouth, tongue lashing against it until you’re squeezing and rocking down on his dick. He could fill you to the brim, bust his load deep in your pussy and keep you on his cock til it takes. Eyes rolling in pleasure, he swaps to your other breast, mouth greedily suckling the hard nipple into his mouth. 
He pulls away, mouth brushing across the stiff peak as he looks up at you, “Mommy, gonna cum for you, gonna cum so hard in your pussy.”
“Good boy,” you smooth back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “if you fill me up you can keep me, a mommy all to yourself.”
His eyes drop to your collar and you grind down hard on his cock making him moan. 
“This is to keep people from getting any ideas,” you smooth your hands down his chest, nails scratching at his abs and making them tense, “you can put your own collar here if you want.”
Leon closes his eyes, trying his best to behave. Having you in a collar he picked out? Coming home to you waiting for him, maybe even splayed out in his bed, wet and wanting his cock. Shuddering, he blindly mouths at your chest nuzzling until he finds your nipple to pull into his mouth with a rough suck. 
“Mommy, ‘m so close,” he groans, “wanna keep you on my cock forever.”
You pull yourself from his lap with a loud wet suctioning noise that makes his balls draw up tight. The words to keep you sitting on his cock die in his mouth as you kneel down at his feet with your back facing him. You dip at the waist to press your chest into the sleeping bag as you arch your ass into the air. Your tail mesmerizes him for a minute before he scrambles up onto his knees behind you. 
“So pretty,” he slowly strokes his hand down your tail and you moan longingly, spreading your knees to present your wet little cunt to him. 
“Breed me, Leon,” you look back at him, ears twitching and teeth biting your bottom lip, “want you to fill me up.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, notching the head of his cock at your opening before slowly sinking inside. 
His hands grip the fat of your ass, eyes unable to pull away as he watches your pussy eagerly suck his cock back into your slick soft heat. The first few thrusts are slow and deep, letting him luxuriate in the feeling of burying his cock in your hot little pussy. 
“Harder,” you whine, hips pushing back, “give it to me, Leon.”
He lets out a pained grunt as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole. Leaning forward, he braces one hand on your shoulder to pin you down as his other grips your hip. The new angle lets him piston his dick deep and hard into your slick greedy hole. Moaning, Leon rabbits his hips faster and faster, balls smacking your clit on every thrust and making you squeeze his dick. 
Moving the hand from your hip, his fingers seek out your slippery swollen clit and rub soft circles across the pudgy bud. 
“So good, such a good boy,” you pant, nails clawing his sleeping bag to shreds, “god, you’re gonna make me squirt.”
The words turn Leon on so much he nearly blacks out. Chills race down his back and he teases your clit from side to side, dipping down to wet his fingers from the slick leaking from your stuffed cunt before pinching your bundle of nerves.
“Your pussy is so perfect,” he gasps, leaning back as he slides the hand from his shoulder down to grab the base of your tail, “gripping me so fucking tight.”
He tugs lightly and you keen, body thrashing wildly as your pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock. 
“Fuck that’s hot,” he groans, chin dropping to his chest to watch him fuck your cunt. 
The more he pets and tugs on your tail, the harder you squeeze down on his dick. Leon’s fingers also never let up on teasing and rubbing your clit while the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and makes you squeal. 
“Leon, ungh— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you slur out, drooling on the slick material of the sleeping bag.
“Please cum for me,” he keeps the same breakneck pace paired with circling your clit and tail, “want that fat pussy creaming my cock, mommy.”
Your body locks up underneath him and Leon feels a gush of slick push his cock out and wet thighs; quickly recovering, he shoves his dick back inside your spasming walls and humps your pussy fast and hard. 
“You fucking squirted,” he whines, “never had a girl squirt on my cock and you fucking—god, I’m cumming, fuck, this chubby fucking pussy is making me cum, oh mommy—”
Leon nearly collapses as he presses himself as tight against your ass as possible, balls drawn up tight and pulsing as he spills deep inside your cunt. Your slick walls milk him for every drop— his dick spurting rope after rope of thick hot cum until it’s dripping from your used hole. 
When he goes to pull out, you whine and press your ass back against him. 
“Stay,” you sigh, “don’t want a mess just yet.”
Shuddering, he groans as your walls flutter and hug his cock. In no time, he’s just as stiff and hard as he was ten minutes ago. 
You moan low in your throat, “You can go again?”
“Yeah,” Leon’s breathless reply surprises himself, cock flexing inside your pussy and making you whine. 
The second time Leon creampies your pussy is rough and nasty. 
Pulling out, he flips you onto your back and slips his cock back inside your cunt. Slick and cum ooze out around his fat cock, but he’s too busy pressing your legs up and over his shoulders to notice.  
Mewling against his messy kisses, you clench and whine from Leon’s rough fucking. At this point, he can’t stop himself from giving it to you hard and fast.
“Gonna fuck your little cunt all night, mommy,” he knows he has no filter at this point, completely pussy drunk, but it doesn’t stop him from talking, “you’re gonna be stuffed to the brim, stuffed full of my cum.”
“Leon,” you moan, nails digging into his back and making him buck harder, dick knocking into your cervix roughly. 
“Yeah? Like that? I’m gonna pound this hot little pussy til you can’t take it anymore. Fuck, ‘m gonna give my mommy what she needs,” he growls out, feeling your heels bounce against his back with his thrusts.
“Want it,” you grin wickedly up at him, “give it to me, Leon. Be a good boy for mommy.”
He’s too wound up from earlier so in no time at all Leon’s cumming inside your pussy for the second time that night. His fingers pinch and rub your slippery clit until you’re clamping down tight on his cock, milking him into overstimulation as he finishes spilling his seed in your sticky walls.
Pulling out with a grunt, Leon collapses next to you with a sigh. Laying there in the quiet, he lets his heart rate drop back to normal before turning to you.
“You really want to get pregnant?”
You smirk and it makes his pulse race. 
“No, that little issue has been fixed,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “but it’s fun to pretend, right?”
Leon’s cock twitches against his thigh and he nods. 
“Yeah,” pink blooms across his cheekbones, “I liked it.”
Curling up into his side, he softly runs a finger across one of your ears. 
“Can I really keep you?” He whispers.
Night sounds slowly seep back into his awareness as a cicada screams nearby. 
“Can you truly keep a wild thing?” You muse humorously, head tilting back so he can see your bright eyes. 
At his contemplative silence, you run your hands through his hair with a half smile, “But I want to go home with you, Leon. If the offer is there.”
“Please,” he blurts out, not caring if he sounds desperate or whipped, “I’d love for you to come home with me.”
Smile softening your features, you brush the fringe from his eyes, “Then, I’m yours.”
Relief and excitement fills his chest and he grins, “Perfect.”
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salsakiyoomi · 1 year
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"why are you here?"
the january cold may have been harsh on suna's skin, but your words were harsher on his heart.
he's standing at the doorstep of your apartment, and in front of an irriated and groggy looking you, who he may have awoken at three am in the middle of the night.
you cross your arms and lean on the doorway frame, waiting for his answer.
he may have expected a bit of a warmer greeting, though he's not sure if his expectations are valid — not anymore, not since you've broken up with him.
"i, uhm," he trails off and pauses, looking around everywhere but at you, "i need somewhere to stay at."
you frown at him, "suna, are you drunk?"
you might as well have taken a knife and stabbed it in his heart when you used his last name as he replies, "no. maybe —  a little bit."
you know he's lying, you've known him for three years to know when he is, and you've known him for three years to know when he's drunk — and the red that taints his cheeks say that he may have had more than his fair share of drinks.
"can i come in?" he asks, finally looking at you, you can see the way he slightly shivers with the chill that stings in the air.
you don't know what to say, you don't know if you should let him in — no, you know that you shouldn't let him in and he knows that he shouldn't be asking this question, he knows he shouldn't even be here in the first place, and yet here he stands at the doorstep of your apartment.
you stay silent, for a moment, and then two before you finally answer him, "i guess i can't just leave you at the mercy of the january cold." you say quietly as you step away from the doorway and let him in — it's a snowy and crisp night, and you can't send him out on the streets where the biting winds would get him.
and besides, against your bitter will, you may have missed him.
suna navigates his way around your apartment as though it's his second home, you presume that it is or at least it used to be as you watch him make his way to the couch and slump on it.
"make yourself comfortable, i guess." you mutter under your breath before you disappear into your room.
suna knows that he shouldn't be here, not when he's intoxicated and drunk on martinis, not after he went to the bar to do so just to get his mind off of you, and yet he still found himself circling back to you, first with a phone call, then two, then three, all which you didn't notice until he decided to finally go to your place, his feet dragged him there as though it was second nature and it might as well have been his lucky day when you let him in even though your break up ended with you saying that you didn't want to have anything to do with him.
but suna can't help it, he really can't, he can't get his mind off of you and his heart still longs for you but he thinks he's exaggerating, at least now he does with the alcohol settling in his system, his mind a daze with the only thought on it being you and the fact that he's at your apartment, and his eyelids now feel heavier.
and so when you come back with a pillow and comforter for him, you find him laying on the couch, head facing the ceiling.
a small smiles stretches at your lips as you make your way over to him, "sleepy already? i guess you've had too much to handle." you chide as you begin to cover him with the comforter, his eyes are still open but droopy.
"y/n," he calls out your name and you can't help but pause at it as you answer him, "yes?"
"i love you." he says, it's quiet, a bit intimate and almost innocent as he looks at you, waiting for your answer.
you may have not noticed how eloquent his tone was, how heartfelt his words actually were, or maybe you did, maybe you just chose to ignore it or maybe you just didn't believe him no matter how honest he actually was because you frown at him with a slight pout at your lips.
you say quietly, "you're too drunk, suna."
you tuck him in, your heart beating dully in your chest, maybe you can't hear his heartbeat but you can see the way his eyes dim as his chest throbs at your words.
the january cold may have been harsh but you don't realize how much harsher your words are to him as you speak once more,
"maybe tell me that when you're sober."
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prequel
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Girls Night
--genre + trope: FLUFF!!!, sfw
---pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader
--word count: 0.7k
--summary: you thought that getting ready for girls night would be easy, but peter makes it harder when he's staring at you like that.
--warnings: some smooches, peter would do anything for the reader, mentions of being drunk, so much fluff wow.
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--gif credits: @gatorstillman
You thoroughly believe that girls night is sacred, and should be honored at least twice a month. Every part of girls night, and sometimes morning, is something so special to you. Getting ready for tonight should’ve been uneventful, and pretty straightforward, but this time to yourself is quickly interrupted by Peter’s big brown eyes staring into the side of your face. He’s lying on your shared bed right next to the vanity he bought and put together for you after watching you hunch over on the floor next to a mirror that is half your size. 
You swear that if you looked hard enough into Peter’s eyes, you could see hearts in them. It feels like his eyes haven’t left you ever since you started getting ready. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest, but you do look over occasionally when he seems a little too quiet. “Hi baby,” a dopey smile plastered on his features. 
“Hi, my love,” you chirp back, “what are you doing?”
He shifts to get closer to you, “Just looking at you.”
“Oh okay, baby. Don’t forget to blink,” a teasing smile escapes your lips.
Peter doesn’t even respond back in defense of your comment, he just keeps staring at you. “You’re so beautiful,” was the only thing that left his mouth. 
You’re shocked, and he’s still staring at you as if you’re made out of gold. 
Looking down at the time on your phone, you rush to finish applying your lip gloss before you head to your closet to find something to wear. Peter’s eyes never leave your frame as you frantically move from one side of the room to the other, searching for an outfit. The only sound was the music you put on before you started getting ready, you couldn’t even tell if Peter was even coherent anymore, but you needed to leave in less than ten minutes and Peter was the last thing on your mind. 
As you finally put on an outfit you’re happy with, you take one last glance in the mirror before turning to Peter, “How do I look?” Still unsure of you’re clothes, you pull and pick at the material on you, awaiting his answer. 
Still lying in bed with a hand holding his head up, he says, “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Y/N.”
A sigh of relief leaves your lips before you take a few steps toward his relaxed form on the bed. Sitting down, you pull on some shoes you found next to your vanity, “I’ll be back soon,” you turn to face him, “I love you.”
He takes this opportunity to reach his hand up and pull you into his lips. A deep and warm kiss is shared between the two of you, and Peter has no intention of letting you go. He wishes you didn’t have to go out tonight, even though it’s been planned for weeks. Pulling away breathlessly, you look at Peter’s now sparkly lips, a laugh leaves you as you realize your lip gloss has transferred onto him. 
He doesn’t care, too love-struck to care about what he looks like right now. Bringing your hand up to hold his face, you wipe the sticky product off his lips as you continue to laugh at the situation. He takes the back of your hand and holds your hand there before turning to kiss your palm. “I love you, bug,” he gives your palm one last peck, “have fun and be safe, yeah?”
Standing up, you stand at the foot of the bed, “You know I always am.” 
Peter finally sits up, coming out of his daze to place himself in front of you, “Mhm…”
Leaning down to give him one last kiss you start to make your way to the front door, not before a playful smack is felt on your butt. You smirk before you yell a loud and dragged out ‘bye’, before closing the front door and locking it behind you. 
Peter lays back down, already missing you, a sigh escaping his lips. Not even a minute passes before he can hear the excited squeals of you and your friends meeting each other outside. Smiling to himself, he knows that he’ll have to take care of your drunken state when you come home later tonight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
--author's note: just some more fluff with tasm!peter to end your week <3...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything:). ok, bye ily<3333
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cal-flakes · 10 months
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i absolutely NEED more dealer!rafe i’m obsessed
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╰┈➤ fluff with dealer!rafe
warnings: drug use, swearing, guns.
summary: just dealer!rafe fluff, no plot.
a torrent of loud raps on the door had rafe reaching for his gun as he crept towards it. he stood silent for a minute, attempting to catch a voice over the banging.
“rafey! let me in!” a high pitched giggle called from the other side of the oak door. sighing, he opened the door in a flash, not expecting the girl to fall through it.
“oops!” she exclaimed as she crashed onto the floor beside his feet. “fuck sake..” rafe muttered, scratching his forehead with the tip of the weapon. mouth agape, she pointed at it. “you were going to shoot me?” she wailed, feigning upset.
shaking his head, he set the gun aside. “no, i wasn’t going to shoot you princess..” he mumbled, pulling her to her feet. she stumbled for a second, falling into his chest. a large grin appeared on her face as he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.
“i’ve been calling you! why would you ignore me?” she pouted, looking up at him through mascara coated lashes. he shook his head. “you never called me baby…”
another gasp escaped her as she looked between him and her now cracked phone. “who the hell did i call then?” she questioned herself, wracking her brain for the answer.
as she did so, he caught a familiar glint in her eyes. pulling her closer, he grabbed her face with his free hand, squishing her cheeks together. “who gave you pills y/n?” he sneered, almost not wanting to know the answer.
y/n and rafe were not in an exclusive relationship, but he certainly made it clear she belonged to him. she was his pretty girl, and he was her ‘big, scary boyfriend’, as she’d put it once before. however, with that came a mutual agreement, if she was going to do drugs, they could only be his drugs because rafe cameron barely trusted himself, never mind other people.
“huh? oh, barry gave me them, he said they were yours!” she mumbled, looking around the room in a happy daze. the frustration was clear as rafe clenched his jaw.
cursing under his breath, rafe decided to deal with him tomorrow.
“i don’t shift pills y/n. i shift coke” he spoke, lowering his voice as to not ruin her high. she raised her eyebrows “uh oh!”
pulling away from him, her heels clicked against the floor while she attempted to go into the living room, instead clattering into the wall, knocking a picture off.
“shit” she whispered, leaning down to grab it when rafe threw her over his shoulders before she could cut her fingers on the glass.
“weeeee!” y/n exclaimed, smacking his butt as he headed through the hallway, only for it to be returned, much harder.
he set her down on the couch next to him, pulling her legs over his lap. he’d started untying the straps of the heels when he caught her staring.
“what?” he questioned. “i am so in love with you rafey” y/n slurred, smiling sweetly. “i love you too angel” he smirked, rubbing her aching feet as she sank into the couch.
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raysrays · 3 months
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Kyojuro Rengoku X Wife! Reader OneShot
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Senario: Seeing Kyojuro off before his mission.
Genre: Fluff
TW: none
Y/N perspective
(Please leave me some feedback if you enjoy my writing)
I find myself unable to look away from Kyojuro as he gazes into the distance, lost in thought.
To say I love him would be an understatement of monumental proportions. He's the epitome of sweetness and kindness, a beacon of sunshine in my life.
How did I ever become so fortunate? Once his Tsuguko, now his wife... the wife of the Flame Hashira.
His hair gently sways in the wind, and his eyes seem distant, as if grappling with profound contemplation. What could occupy the mind of a man burdened with such immense responsibilities?
Something seems to break him from his daze as he turns, catching me in the act of staring, a gentle smile forming on his face.
"What are you staring at, sunflower? Admiring my good looks?" His teasing causes me to smile, coloring my cheeks.
"I suppose so," I reply, walking towards him. I gaze him up and down, adjusting his Hiaori to perfection. "Much better." He places his hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair.
"What would I ever do without you, my little flame?"
"I have no idea. Maybe you shouldn’t dwell on it," I tease, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Are you about to leave?" I already know the answer. Seeing him off before a mission is always hard, but that's the burden of his title. When Oyakata-sama says jump, it's the Hashira's duty to ask, "How high?"
I feel his hands move to my cheeks, holding my face in his hands. "Yes, I am," he says, his smile seeming weaker. Since we got married, I can tell Kyojuro doesn't enjoy going off on missions as often or as far away.
He used to love the trips and the chance to see new sights. However, now it seems he'd rather be here more than anywhere else.
I place my hand upon his, still resting on my cheek, keeping eye contact with those beautiful fiery eyes. "Hurry home to me, Kyo."
I feel him pull me into him, resting my head on his chest, where I can smell his uniform, freshly washed the day before. His embrace has always been so comforting, so protective.
"I don’t want to leave you," he whispers into my hair.
After a brief moment, I pull away, taking his hands into mine. "I know you don’t, but you must think of all the lives you will save by doing so," I say, trying my best to sound reassuring. "And when you do return, I shall reward you with the best sweet potato dish your heart could ask for!"
That's all I had to say; his eyes lit up, and his smile grew five times larger. "Sweet potatoes are my favorite! Do you really mean it?" His hands gripped mine tightly.
I couldn't stop myself from laughing at his adorable reaction. "Yes, Kyojuro, anything for you."
In just a matter of seconds, I felt myself being pulled into him once more. This time, his lips made their way to mine. It was such a loving and gentle kiss, one that conveyed its own message: I love you.
After sharing that moment together, we both finally pull away. "I shouldn't keep Tengen waiting any longer," he laughs nervously. "I'm sure he's waiting on me now."
"Yes, you should probably get going," I reply. He lets go of my hands and makes his way towards the door. He pauses before exiting, looking back at me.
"Take care, sunflower. For when I return, we shall spend a magical night together!" I feel my face turning red. He seems so pure, but I sense his intentions are probably not.
I smile, waving him off. "I look forward to it."
With that, he takes his leave, and I watch him walk off into the distance for a moment.
The man shines brighter than the sun. He really is perfect.
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annaxbree · 15 days
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talk back (pt 2)
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nate doe x reader
warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol
previous part
"a few people" was their answer when i asked how big of a gathering this would be.
the triplets had just hit another milestone in their career, which called for a celebration.
and while the get-together was limited to close friends, it was still more than a few people.
and, of course, they had invited him to the celebration. why wouldn't they ? nate is their best friend, after all.
despite this fact, i was still surprised to see him walk through the door with that annoying smirk planted on his face.
he looked good, i'd never tell him that though.
his head turned in my direction, but before we could make eye contact i moved my head to face the direction nick was sitting.
"im getting a drink" i whispered, standing up from the couch. nick only nodded, already engrossed in conversation with a friend.
i let out a sigh as i made a beeline towards the table that was littered with drinks, i guess they planned on getting a little drunk tonight.
before i could even pick out what drink i wanted, i felt his breath on my neck.
his hand found its way to the small of my back while he reached around me to grab a cup.
instead of doing so, however, he craned his neck downward to look at me. his face was mere inches away from my own.
"so do you just never know what you want to drink, then, princess?" he asked, his breath tickling my face. "or did you need my help again?"
i watched his lips move while he talked, caught in a daze as i thought about the way they felt against mine.
it took me a minute to snap out of it, but when i finally did i was quick to make a comeback.
" i never asked for your help in the first place" i spoke.
"so you're just standing here looking around for no reason?"
"i got here like four seconds before you did" i deadpanned.
"yeah, it seemed like you were running away from me. you scared of something?"
"yeah, that massive forehead"
before he could say anything back, he was interrupted by the voice of nick.
"of course you two are here together" nick spoke. "the hell is that supposed to mean?" i asked.
"all i'm saying is you two have a tendency to disappear together at parties. what were you two doing in the bathroom together, anyway?"
"oh, i'd actually love to talk about this right now, but i'm pretty sure i hear chris calling me" he spoke as he backed away slowly.
before anyone could stop him, he was already gone.
"do you hear that? i think i hear madi calling me" i spoke, poking my thumb in the opposite direction.
"yeah, nice try"
"are you kidding me? nate just did the exact same thing" i pointed out.
"yeah, well nate doesn't owe me an explanation. you do"
"ok, fine. we just spent time in the bathroom...but nothing happened" i spoke.
"spent time in the bathroom doing what?"
"you know....talking"
"girl, you're not fooling anybody...especially not me"
"we kissed..."
"....for 10 minutes?"
"what, did you time it? "
"no, bitch, it was an educated guess"
"ok... so, we kissed for 10 minutes" i spoke with a shrug.
"and why are you just telling me this now?" he asked.
" 'cause i regret it, and it never should have happened in the first place"
"nick!" madi yelled from across the room, "come over here! matt and chris want pictures!"
while nick walked away from me, nate walked towards me. instead of stopping, however, he grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner wordlessly.
he pushed me against the wall, caging me in with his arms.
"that's funny, didn't seem like you regretted it when you were moaning my name" he rasped.
"what are you talking about?" i asked.
"don't act like you didn't just tell nick you regretted it"
"how do you know i was talking about you"
"who else would you be talking about?"
"well, why would you assume you're the only guy i'm talking to?"
"am i?"
"that really doesn't concern you"
"what if i want it to?"
"what if you shut up and kiss me?"
"you know for someone who claims they don't want me, you're pretty needy"
"if you don't want to kiss me, i'll go find someone who will"
"shut up" he spoke before leaning down and closing the gap between us.
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tag list: taglist: @creamoncreamoncream2 @freshloveforthefit @patscorner @sturniolosmind @sturniolosloves
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mcondance · 4 months
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nite and day. fontaine.
for 👹, as they return to school tomorrow.
the back roads of the glen are quiet this time of night. nobody passes back here but the dope boys and the hos, and even then, ‘taine’s picked a spot for the two of you where you won’t be bothered.
snack wrappers sit on the middle console, hot chips and a half-empty bottle of strawberry lemonade, taine’s malt liquor and a half-smoked joint.
his ever-present music fills the car, soft vibrations have your body rattling softly from your place in his passenger’s seat. a passenger princess is what you are, always riding, never driving, spending his dime like it’s yours– and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
hazy-eyed and chest heavy with the weed swirling through your body, you cast your eyes over fontaine’s pretty ass face; the slope of his nose and curve of his lips are entrancing even in the low light. his dark eyes meet yours with a quickness like always.
“you starin’.” he says, smooth and deep, and yeah, you are.
“i am. that wrong?”
“nah.” he shakes his head, smoke curling out of his mouth. he smiles, laughs a little cause he still can’t believe he cuffed a girl like you, who’ll just stare at him for the fuck of it. passing you the joint, he watches you hit it, and you watch him watch with low eyes, leaned over the center console staring up at him like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. your eyes, he thinks. your fuckin’ eyes.
he’s stuck, watching you inhale and exhale, keeping his eyes on you through the smoke you blow.
“you playin’ with me.” he’s got that thing in his voice, that airy, dazed, fucked thing that has you shifting in your seat and cracking a smile, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head and not denying his accusation. he shifts too, places a hand on your face and brings you over to steal a kiss that you so easily give him.
one kiss is never just one with fontaine, though. deepens quickly, gets nasty and your heads are moving with it, fighting to hold your own as the other does the same. he grunts, moves as close as he can and licks over your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth when you let him in. your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him towards your kiss.
low smacks mix with the music pouring from his radio, little pleasured sounds and hungry groans take their place in the song like they belong there. and if you let fontaine tell it, they do.
“sound so damn pretty,” he mumbles against your lips and you smile against his, leaning back just a little to find his eyes again. he’s in the thick of it already, tipsy with infatuation and you’re getting to his head, like you always do. “what you wanna do?” he asks. he knows your answer already, leaning away from you so you can clamber over his console and settle in his lap while he’s still reaching down to move his seat back.
in his lap, his hands find your waist with ease, handle your body like second nature as you press your lips to his again, hands on either side of his face. you cup his face with the gentleness of a person in love, soft and caressing and he feels the sweetness leak off your hands and seep into his skin. 
the way you feel is anything but sweet, though. he’s hard against your heat and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear you were dripping through your shorts and panties. fontaine’s hands get bolder, sliding down your ass to grab at your pussy, grunting against your lips as he gets a handful of you. again he grabs, and you whine a little, moving up away from his hand at the sensitivity and unwelcome shyness that arises in you.
it doesn’t matter, though, cause you settle back down and he runs his hand down your slit through your clothes, still kissing and licking into each other’s mouths. sure of himself, his other hand takes the first one’s place, inside your clothes this time. 
“taine. .” you sigh, melting into his touch. 
“mhm.” he hums into your neck, kissing your skin once before he trains his eyes down between your legs. 
your body knows his touch. moves against his fingers naturally, sliding your slickness over his hand as he teases your nerves, savoring the feel of you against him. your hands are over his shoulders now, a little leverage to grind your hips on him, breath heavy and desperate with the soft pleasure arising in you.
fontaine knows your tells better than you do. “you want it?” he asks, cause he can tell with the urgency in your motions that all that long ass foreplay shit is for the birds tonight.
you just nod dumbly, leaning back so he can free his dick and you stare with hungry eyes at him, body tingling with the recollection of how he feels shoved up in your guts.
shorts and panties to the side is how he does it, using your drip as lube with one, two, three swipes up and down your cunt. you shiver, eyes joining his on between your legs to find his hand wrapped around his dick.
still high off weed and each other, you connect, softly, and its good.
ready, wet and always ready, he opens you up and he groans at the feel of you enveloping him, at how you clench and kiss his dick with your walls. your sounds seem to complement each other, a whine leaks from your mouth as he sinks in farther, splitting you open like it’s his purpose. mouth slack, you huff out breaths, eyes fluttering as he catches against little electric spots all inside you. 
there’s no static spot, no time in which you two don’t know what’s next. to the backdrop of smoke and fontaine’s smooth music, you fuck in fontaine’s driver’s seat. it’s smooth, the way you rise up and he pulls down and you meet in the middle, and then you’re in the thick of it and the pace is so sweet your mind blanks with it.
the car rocks, the shuffle of clothes and bodies and unabashed moans hit the air and spin and float like flowers through the wind.
hand braced on his chest, you rest your forehead against his, eyes taking in his eyes and his nose and his lips that are opening to feed you the words that you so readily eat up. low and deep, he speaks, his mind crafting the most depraved shit to say.
“you love this shit, don’t you? got me on you and you ain’ even have to try.” he’s lovestruck, would give you the world if you even looked at him like you wanted it. you nod, retching out a moan, dropping down on him harder and rougher. he feels that shit, smiles and places a kiss on your neck before his hands handle your waist again. he has your bounces turning to grinds, and he follows you, hands on your waist to move with you.
like this, it’s good. good like midnight drives and being close with your lover, good like spending his money and getting kissed like even god couldn’t separate you two.
the shit’s perfect, and you feel it, in your rocks against him, in how you move against each other so right. 
smooth is how you fuck each other, rolling your hips against him, letting the atmosphere of it all bring you close to cumming. there’s no rush, no race or urgency to hit your peak, just slow grinds and soft words and fontaine’s hands around your waist, comforting and mind-fucking all at once. inside you, his dick kisses every part of you.
in the driver’s seat of fontaine’s pontiac, you feel as good as you think you could ever feel.
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