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#I love it this is so god damn juicy
completeoveranalysis · 7 months
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[4]
My favourite teleporting effect is when they just bleed into reality like this, like a water droplet that gathers up and falls and splashes away to reveal a character that definitely wasn’t in this dimension before. It’s so pretty every time. 10/10 better than yonic murder portals. 
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OH THE INSTANT PAIN
“Sakura” clearly not remembering a single thing that happened and instantly being excited that they can hold hands - HAVING NO IDEA THAT THE LAST TIME LAVA LAMP TRIED TO HOLD HER HAND HE HESITATED AND DOOMED HER TO DEATH IN THE PROCESS. 
AND YOU CAN SEE IT HITS HIM SO HARD IN THE SIX YEAR OLD FEELS.
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IT IS, IN FACT, THE ONLY THING HE CAN SEE.
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♪ :)
OK
so i have been obsessed w this song for a while bc the lyrics are so good. problem is, the title’s in morse code and it’s a cover (the original is so cheesy it’s actually kinda bad But whatever). also all the lyrics are good so how do i choose just one aah
Forunately! I do know the name in the alphabet so wooo
“DANCEMETOTHEENDOFLOVE” by ERASED
“Dance me through the panic/‘til I’m gathered safely in/Lift me like an olive branch/and be my homeward dove/Dance me to the end of love”
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flowrmoth · 2 months
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...and then what happened?
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DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE
Synopsis: your date last night with another girl got real juicy and ellie couldn't help but ask about it...
AN: okay so... this is my first drabble/oneshot so i'm sorry if it sucks. also idk where this idea came from, i just love the idea of ellie being a flustered mess bcus of you hihi (also english is my second language so yeah)
wc: 1.9k
warnings: mdni!!! sexual themes, not really smut, pining, lowkey loser!ellie/perv!ellie?, ellies just obsessed with u ok?, reader being oblivious, no mentions of Y/N or readers looks! (the photos are just for the aesthetic),
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"So yeah, in conclusion, I totally beat Jesses ass. He doesn't know shit about pool." you laughed, getting comfortable on Ellies couch.
It was a relaxing Sunday night. You decided to spend the warm evening hanging out with Ellie, one of your closest friends. You definitely needed a breather after a long week of work. Ellie had informed you that she coped some weed from her dealer, so of course, you said yes to a smoke sesh.
You came prepared, nights like these at her place always meant that you would probably end up sleeping over and watching cheesy movies while covered in buttery popcorn and chocolate.
Now, you were sprawled out on her worn out, brown couch in your pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Ellies outfit and position mimicking yours, her long legs stretched out in front of her, eyes glued to the insanely boring Sci-Fi movie she picked out and a joint in hand. You were recalling the events of last Friday when you went out with Dina and Jesse and when you finally beat Jesse at pool.
"Damn, can't believe you beat the master himself. He won't ever live that down." Ellie chuckled, taking a drag from the newly lit spliff she rolled before you came over. She looked over at you with tired eyes and smiled. Fuck, she was never getting over this crush. To be honest, Ellie couldn't fucking stop thinking about you. Every day, every second, you were the only thing on her mind. But of course, she was too afraid to do anything about it, too scared that she would fuck everything up and lose you if she confessed. So she decided to remain quiet and enjoy you from afar, basking in your beauty ever time you would sleep in her bed or smoke her weed.
"Duh, I'm a hundred times better than him." you said with a smirk, looking over at Ellie and taking the joint from her slender fingers.
Fuck.
She just remembered. You had a date last night. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You've been raving about this girl, Sarah or whatever the hell her name was, for weeks. Some girl that was coming to your work and finally asked you out last week. Ellie broke a sweat. She had to know what happened.
Did you kiss?
Did you fuck?
God, she'd hoped not.
"Hey, um, how was your date last night? With Sarah?" she asked sheepishly, trying not to sound to dry and nervously fiddling with her ear. She looked over at you and your eyes widened.
"Oh my god! I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Her name's Sophia, Ellie, you know this." you jumped in your seat from excitement and turned your body to face Ellie. "Yeah, yeah, Sophia. Whatever. How was it?" Ellie rolled her eyes, not really caring for the girl.
You sat criss-cross from her, beaming with happiness. You couldn't wait to tell Ellie about the night. "Okay, so, you know that new restaurant?" you ranted with a big smile, retelling Ellie all about the dinner you had, the drinks you ordered and the pretty flowers your date had brought you, but all Ellie could think about was if you went home with the girl. She focused on the TV while you talked, looking over at you with brief glances, too afraid you might notice the disappointment and jealousy twinkling in her eyes or the way her fingers were gripping the joint so tightly she thought it might rip in half.
That girl hadn't even bought you the right damn flowers, or ordered the right drink. She didn't fucking know anything about you. Ellie knew that your favorite flowers weren't roses, far from it, and who the hell orders tequila for a first date? You were clearly a 'daises and whiskey' kinda girl. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
After the part about the dinner and what not, you finally got to the part about going to Sophias apartment, which Ellie had secretly hoped had not happened. Ellie felt her heart drop and a cold sweat ran from her head right to her stomach. Fuck.
"Then, she asked me if I wanted to smoke, so of course I agreed immediately. I was nervous anyways because she was so hot, you know? Figured it would calm me down." you talked, moving your hands excitedly while Ellie was just nodding along, trying to match your energy as best as she could. She cringed at the word 'hot'.
"Wait, I'm gonna re-enact exactly what happened, 'cus damn, she knew what she was doing!" you laughed, definitely enjoying the replay of last night. Ellies mouth was dry. What the fuck do you mean re-enact what happened?
"And then, she sat on the couch and was all like 'Come here'." you made sure to put on a seductive voice and manspread a bit, while motioning your finger, trying to act out the scene as you remembered. At this point, Ellie was fucked. She prayed the story would be over soon so she could stop imagining you with someone that's not her.
Someone else's hands touching you, caressing you, tracing their fingers around every damn curve of your body that she so badly wanted to feel. It was too much for her.
"Yeah?" Ellie whispered, throwing a questioning look your way. Her hands were getting clammy and the joint was starting to die out.
"Yeah, and then..." you eye her up and down "I kind of like, straddled her. Like this." you chuckled, enjoying the recreation of previous events.
Slowly, you got up from your criss-cross position and started moving towards Ellies side of the couch. Your stare was a dangerous one, one that Ellie has never seen before. Her breath hitched and she swallowed thickly. She could feel the hairs on her neck standing up. Her bangs sticking to her slightly damp forehead.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You were definitely too high, because what the hell is happening?
Your hazy, drunken stare set onto her panicked one. Your hands made their way to Ellies shoulders, gripping them for support. One of your legs swung over Ellies and settled at the side of her thighs, straddling them.
"Then," you took the joint from her shaky fingers and brought it up to your lips, taking a long drag "she did something like this." with a whisper, your hand cupped Ellies cheeks and squeezed them lightly so her lips would part. As you got closer to her face, you blew the thick smoke into her mouth. Ellies eyes immediately darted to your lips and her own got dry with nervousness. She puffed out the rest of the smoke.
Her words were caught in her throat, but she had to say something. Anything. Just to make you stay in this position longer.
"And, um... And then what?" Great fucking question, Ellie. Her voice came out small and hushed. She swore she tried not to sound too tense, but with your fucking perfect thighs sitting on her own, your perfect face so close to hers, your perfect perfume, that she would sometimes steal to from your purse and quickly spray on her wrist, was invading her space completely. She was awestruck, but still tried to play it cool like this wasn't the best thing that has happened to her. Her hands automatically moved to your plush thighs, giving them a light squeeze.
You let out a laugh and whispered, putting out the spliff in the ashtray next to you "And then, um, I don't know. She did this thing, on my neck, that felt so good, but I don't know how to do it." this was actually one of your first sexual/romantic experiences with someone, so it was still new and you still didn't really know what you were doing. You just thought you were sharing a great experience with a great friend.
"Y-yeah? What thing?" Ellie tried to egg you on with a nervous chuckle. This was too good to be true for it to be over so soon. She didn't dare move her hand from your legs, not even an inch. She could bet that her face looked like a fucking tomato right now from how hard she was blushing, but she didn't care when the prettiest girl she had ever seen was in her fucking lap.
"Something likes this..." you bow your head to meet your lips with Ellies neck. Your mouth hadn't even grazed her pulse point, but you could already feel it quickening. You press your lips to her sweet spot, just for a moment, before opening your mouth and sucking in her skin lightly. Her skin tasted so sweet, so soft, with a hint of her signature wood-y perfume and natural scent.
Ellie rolled her eyes so hard she thought she was seeing heaven. She was trying so hard not to let out a stifled moan that was threatening to escape her throat. That will definitely leave a hickey. You let her neck go, kissing the newly bruised spot once or twice, now moving your mouth to her jaw and peppering kisses along the way. Your hand eventually found its way to the back of Ellies head, tangling your fingers in her auburn locks.
Ellie couldn't help but squeeze your thighs, giving you encouragement to continue, her long fingers digging into your soft flesh. She tried so hard to not slide her hands up your thighs and under your pajama shorts. She felt every fucking inch of you underneath her. Your legs squeezing hers, your chests so unbelievably close, one of your hands resting on her shoulder while the other one was working its way through her messy hair. She was so aware of your pelvis pressing into hers, she prayed that you couldn't feel her every goddamn pulse.
You finished off your performance with a quick, delicate kiss at the corner of her lips as you slid away your hands from her body, leaving her all sweaty and worked up. You climbed off of her and went back to your side of the couch, completely unaware of the fucking effect you have on Ellie.
Ellie almost whimpered when she felt your heat leave her, suddenly feeling cold and empty without your body on hers. Like a missing puzzle piece. She shifted upwards and cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears with her shaky palms, rubbing them on her grey shorts. She didn't dare look at you, fearing that you would see her wide eyes and red cheeks.
"Sorry, I hope that wasn't that bad." you glance at Ellie and say with an unknowing smile, acting like nothing happened. Like the greatest thing that Ellie has ever witnessed didn't just occur. You returned to your phone, probably texting the girl whose kisses you just acted out.
Ellie felt sick. Sick with want and sick with the fact that that wasn't real. What just happened wasn't real, but holy fuck, did she enjoy it.
"Yeah, no, that was, uh, good. Wow. Can't believe s-she did all that." she tried to stutter out with closed eyes and clenched fists, getting up from the couch.
"Right? I know!" you returned. "I'm just gonna go to- Yeah, be right back." Ellie said quickly while making her way to the bathroom, almost tripping on her own feet in the process.
She swiftly got in and went straight to the sink. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, not the mention the beads of sweat on her forehead and the damp spot that formed beneath her black boxers. Fuck, she was so embarrassed that only a fucking kiss on the neck got her so worked up. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water, looking at herself in the mirror.
Fuck, Ellie was so in love with you.
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toraochi · 7 months
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MORE BREEDING KINK!!! MORE
william afton and henry emily having a breeding kink with their s/o - nsfw headcannon. I'm back ig
warning: breeding, swearing, name callings and minors dni
notes: thank you for liking my content!! you asked and I shall delivered, encore !!!
William Afton
he was crazy, crazy stuffing you full of his semen inside you. heck even thinking about it makes him go feral all of the sudden.
as much as he enjoys killing kids while stuffing them in a suit, he likes to also stuff kids inside you too.
he can't stop thinking about creaming in your little pussy that he loves so damn much, god he couldn't resist
this man is a creep. would literally hump dry ur panties because he can't cum inside you rn.
after he came home to you, he immediately slammed your body into the wall and started snaking his hands into your thighs, wanting that stupid fucking panties be off and have his way to you.
mating press. no buts. he will fold you in two as keep pounding in your sweet pussy because he loves how his cock is just fits perfectly.
he also likes to cum inside, he ain't like the mess after all
"You take me so well, I'll make you a bitch in no time."
Henry Emily
this guy. this guy is a busy man.
but you know one thing he won't be forgetting is how your cunt hugs his member so perfectly.
he found out that he had a breeding kink after you ride him and you refuse to let him pull out.
gosh seeing his cock creamed while still inside you still reminds him of this day.
he was hard, so fucking hard in his pants .
he called for you, leaving the animatronic that he was trying to fix in the past 4 hours in his basement, your twins are probably sleeping now
you came for his call, just for him to grope your sweet juicy breast, still producing milk until this day.
he started pinching your nipples as little dribble of milk spurs out. he wants to lick it.
he didn't even touch you yet you're so wet. he proceed to grind on your ass, wanting to have a release after a long day's work
his cock just melts inside your sweet velvet cunt as he whines on how he is gonna add another angel to the family
"let me make you pregnant mama, let me breed you and stuff you with my cum oh god-"
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Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh
Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)
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Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG
Word count: 3.7 k
Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.
A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕
"I'm tired of using those things."
Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 
You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.
You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.
And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 
Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?
"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.
"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.
You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean…?"
The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.
"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"
Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.
"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 
"They are." 
The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 
And Simon never said he didn't want children.
It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 
He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.
Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…
It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 
And it did. It more than just did.
He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.
Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.
You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 
It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.
But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.
He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 
That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 
Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 
But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.
Until this night…
This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 
You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.
And this time, he won't even let you play.
"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 
As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 
He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 
Serves the damn thing right…
You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.
You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.
The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.
His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.
And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.
You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.
The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.
"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.
"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.
You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 
He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 
You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 
"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 
"Hell yeah."
The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 
You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.
A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.
His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.
And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 
His little helper, indeed…
"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"
His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.
He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…
"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."
He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.
"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."
Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.
"I'll manage," you whisper.
"I know you will."
The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.
He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.
"Wait–"
"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.
"The–the boys?"
He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 
Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?
"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."
This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.
"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.
"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."
The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 
"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"
He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.
"Right back at ya, darling."
"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.
"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 
"Love… fuckin' hell."
He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 
But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.
"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."
Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 
The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.
A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.
"Luv. You trust me?"
You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 
"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.
Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.
"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"
"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."
He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.
Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 
You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.
"Faster, Simon, please…" 
"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "
And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 
"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.
"Yes–give it to me, please–"
Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…
You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 
Simon–fuck…
There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 
Fuck–!
…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.
"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 
He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.
And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 
It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.
If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.
He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.
"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.
"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."
He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.
"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."
His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.
"Got a fair point there, love."
Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.
"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.
"That was the best."
He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.
"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."
"You think that did it..?"
He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.
"No half-assing with my sweetheart."
One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.
"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.
"I wouldn't say no to that."
You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.
And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."
Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.
And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"
After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...
There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.
"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.
"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.
"What if ice cream won't help?"
"I'll bring you chocolate."
You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 
"You're really not afraid…?"
"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."
"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."
"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.
"Simon... What made you change your mind?"
He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.
"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."
You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.
"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.
"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.
"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.
"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."
He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."
You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 
There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.
3K notes · View notes
kleewie · 5 months
Text
i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!
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the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
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childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
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bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
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ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
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bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
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author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
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rewh0re · 11 months
Text
─CUPID HIT ME WITH PRECISION ; ITOSHI RIN
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-PURE FLUFF, 1.7k, enemies to lovers (more like harmless rivalry turned love), silly confessions, i ACTUALLY poured my whole being into this omg. I did proofread but if any mistake skipped my eye, forgive me:)
Rin liking you? Yea sure. As if you'd believe that.
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Itoshi Rin was the absolute bane of your existence.
He was like some nasty weed growing in your otherwise perfect garden making the whole place just not very perfect.
Your friends would look at you, all bewildered and stunned as to how can someone despise the very lovable, the very endearing, the very handsome Itoshi Rin. All he actually ever did was mind his own damn business, didn't poke his nose into anyone's affair and just liked to keep to himself.
But you, you knew him. You knew him and his tendencies to criticise every living being on the planet for even breathing. His perfect facade lasted only so long until you actually talked to him. That is why most people liked him so, because he never actually talked to them.
You were assigned a project with him where you had to interview a certain group of people, and you could bet on your whole life that you had never come across someone as non cooperative as Rin. He kept flaking off due to "football practices." And he argued whenever he got the chance. He argued over the colours, the font, the whole project in general.
When the project was done and dusted and you thought 'oh, good riddance' he barged in again pointing out the little knick knacks about you.
He had friends, few in number but just as annoying by association or otherwise because why else would Isagi and Bachira just barge into your class during lunch and tell you that Itoshi Rin liked you.
"ITOSHI RIN LIKES WHO!?" your best friend quite literally dropped the wrap she was eating as the earth breaking, ground shattering news reached her ears.
Suddenly, your whole class stared at the source of the brand new, very juicy information in silence before breaking into whispers of shock and excitement.
You stared at the two peas for brains with your face twisted in disbelief because no, Rin is not physically or mentally capable of liking anybody. You out of all people? No chance.
"He likes you, y/n! You need to date him!" Isagi shook your frozen self as if trying to bring you back to earth.
"Ok first of all, calm down, everyone is staring and I don't like the whispers which are very audible by the way," you raised your voice towards the end of the sentence as you looked at the people in your class. They went back to their work in an instant.
"Second, good joke lol," you patted Isagi’s shoulder and resumed eating your lunch.
"It's not a joke, he likes you," Bachira announces, face pink with excitement,a wide grin on his face.
Before you could respond with probably something witty or disdainful about Rin, the bell rang and the boys scampered off to their class.
However much you wanted your life to be normal after that, it wasn't. There were whispers in the halls and they followed you everywhere you went. Whoever said that rumours spread like wildfire, was right. Especially in a high school where gossip hungry teenagers exist.
You passed by Rin several times after that, each time he'd look like he wanted to talk to you but said absolutely nothing. You did have maybe a few eye contacts and maybe just maybe you wondered what it would be like to date Rin, to hold his hand in yours and share kisses only to break out in hushed giggles afterwards. But you shook the thoughts away before they took over you completely.
"Can I talk to you?" You screamed as you felt a presence behind you. Slamming your locker shut, you turned around and hit the perpetrator who scared the actual living shit out of you.
"Don't scream, are you crazy?" Rin rubbed his shoulder which probably had become a little sore due to the impact of the hit.
"You snuck up on me!" You jabbed his chest.
"You hit me!" He rolled his eyes. God he was infuriating.
"You-" you started but were rudely interrupted instead.
"Yeah I know I'm annoying. You've mentioned. Now, back to my question. Can we talk?"
You stared at the towering boy suspiciously, "about what?"
"Follow me," with that he began walking, hands in his pocket and grandeur exuding from his stature.
"Hey!" He never answered your call leaving you no scope but to follow the boy in lead.
He had long legs which meant you were quite some paces behind him screaming at him to walk slower, garnering stares and laughs from certain students. He never listened. He kept going until you reached your school field. As academic classes were going to start, it was fairly empty, leaving behind a few pigeons and crows. The field was lined with some flowering trees, petals from which were scattered on the ground. Rin leaned on one of the barks and looked at you, in all your panting state, with his lazy eyes.
And then something happened. Such a once in a blue moon occurrence it was that you couldn't quite process it. You could swear you saw his lips turn upwards to form what was maybe a smile and you heard what could be the word cute. You probably were hallucinating from the speedwalking you had to go through to catch up with him.
"What did you just call me?" You asked for confirmation.
"I called you cute," he confirmed.
You didn't quite know how to reciprocate to that. It was new, it was rare but somehow, it was welcomed.
"So, I'm pretty sure that those idiots told you something about me? You know, with all the rumours?" And suddenly you noticed his hands. His fingers fidgeting with each other, his eyes cast upon the ground.
"Which idiots?" He spared you a momentary glance which said not to play with him right now. You smiled at his slight annoyance. A win is a win.
"Bachira and Isagi. They told you I liked you," he sighed as he rubbed his hand across his face and looked away.
"Yeah they did and I didn't believe them," you simply shrugged.
"Look, I'm not very experienced in the matter of love and relationships. I've never really felt any kind of strong feeling for anyone, especially love. It's very foreign to me," he gulped, eyes still on the ground.
"I know I was mean to you but I didn't know how else to approach you because honestly, I suck at small talk or deep talk or any kind of talk at all. I'm sorry I was not the kindest to you, I'm sorry I didn't show you that I hold feelings for you which at this point might be a little more than a crush. I'm sorry you had to hear this from those two absolutely stupid idiots before hearing it from me. Yeah, y/n, I like you. Quite a bit actually," he finished and by now your jaw was on the ground because why was Rin being a normal actually nice human being? You don't know how long you stood like that with your mouth open and eyes wide but somewhere a crow cawed and you returned back to the land of living.
"That was an apology," you stated.
"Kind of. Yeah, I guess," he folded his arms now and looked at you. There was pink on his cheeks.
"And definitely a confession," he pointed out, rubbing his neck.
"And definitely a confession," you hated yourself for the butterflies that fluttered inside you at the thought.
"Since when are you so....I don't know, not awful?" You spoke in a haze. You've gotten confessions, but one from who you thought was your archnemesis was bound to leave you kind of speechless.
He scrunched his eyebrows, lips forming a pout, "I'm not awful."
"No, now that I think of it, you're not really," you let out a soft giggle.
Rin might have been the bane of your existence at some point but somewhere along the path, you had stopped associating him with weeds and somehow associated him with flowers blooming in the gardens. He had pointed out your little knick knacks but he had also stood up for you once when you got into an argument with a batchmate. He had shared homework with you, taking out time to explain each problem to you when you specifically asked him not to, even when you were clearly suffering and desperately needed it. He had once put a bandaid on your knee muttering how careless you are. Rin was insufferable once but at some point you couldn't really go without initiating any type of contact with the boy. Rin was insufferable but he had never, ever crossed the line.
"So? Do I get an answer today or will you make me wait?" Under all his facade of being unbothered, he was so nervous. So damn nervous.
"You're not too bad," you smiled at him, poking your cheek with your tongue.
"Is that a yes or a no," he came close to you, grabbing you by the hand. He looked at your intertwined hands and then in your eyes.
"You never asked me a yes or a no question Rin," you maintained your smile as you stared at him.
"Go out with me? Yes or no," All his nervousness left his body somehow, as he became more confident and direct. It was torture enough to have hid the fact from you for so long. He wanted an answer.
You kissed his cheek softly, letting your lips hover over them as you pecked him again before you started walking away, grinning at him widely. Your hands were behind you as you feigned your innocence.
"We'll be so late for class and it will all be your fault, Itoshi Rin," Oh he got the answer alright.
"That's a yes or a no, l/n?" He screamed at your scampering figure as he hid his laughter behind a smile.
You turned around, cupping your mouth as you yelled at him, "pick me up this Saturday at 5 and you'll get your answer Itoshi."
With that you ran off leaving a quite jumpy and excited Itoshi Rin behind. Oh, he could not wait for Saturday.
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ifangirlalot · 6 months
Note
could you write a fingering smutfic w reader x mike or richie?? I love your fics 😭‼️
˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐒 ˎˊ˗ | starring mike wheeler & richie tozier
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: fingering, lewd language, no p in v this time
You guys do know it's okay to request for more than one character, right? I'm more than happy to do more than one :p
Also, sorry to disappoint, but requests are off until further notice, I have like 20 something in my inbox that I need to get...... :')
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
┊ ˚➶ 。Mike Wheeler ˚ ☁️
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Mike Wheeler was most certainly not a "ladies' man". Mike Wheeler was a nerd. He spent most of his time playing nerdy fantasy RPG games in his basement with his friends. He didn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman.
Or at least, he didn't think he did.
But from the way [Name] was currently writhing underneath the tips of his fingers, the way her plump pink lips were opened into an 'o' shape, the lewd, pornographic moans slipping through as she screamed at him for more, he was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he was better at it than he gave himself credit for.
[Name]'s fingers closed around his wrist as his two digits continued to piston in and out of her wet, gummy opening. "Oh god- oh god, Michael, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!" she begged, panting heavily for a few moments before elicting another loud moan.
Mike's teeth sank into his lower lip as he slowly circled her clit with his thumb. He watched with fascination as she parted her legs even further apart, chewing on her own lip as she looked between her legs, watching his fingers appear and disappear from her pussy opening.
"Cumming soon." [Name] announced, tilting her head back against the pillow.
With new motivation, Mike pulled his fingers out slightly and jammed them back in at a new speed. He could hear the wet pap sound his fingers made every time they thrusted into her sweet, wet hole. She was so wet he could see the moisture glistening beneath the dim lighting in his basement.
And then she came. With a series of throaty moans, high pitched gasping, and loud whimpers, [Name] spilled her orgasmic liquids all over his fingers. He could feel the bulge in his pants throbbing as he watched the thick, cream colored liquid drip down his wrist.
┊ ˚➶ 。Richie Tozier ˚ ☁️
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Richie pretended to be into the movie playing at the Derry theater. He really did. But he just couldn't. The damn thing was so fucking boring. So about twenty minutes in, he walked his fingers between he and [Name]'s seats and to her thighs. She was wearing a sundress tonight. Lucky for him, right?
Keeping his gaze straight ahead so as not to draw attention to himself, he pushed the hem of the dress skirt up slowly with his index finger. He could feel the soft, smooth skin of her thigh beneath his fingertip.
[Name] gasped, quickly pushing his hand away. "Richie, are you crazy?!" she hissed, her face flaming red with embarrassment. "Not here, we're in pub-"
Richie cut her off. "Shhh… Just relax, doll. Lemme work my magic."
Evidentally, she wasn't too objected to him, as she didn't protest again. On the contrary, she cracked her legs open slightly. Richie smirked to himself and slowly pushed his hand up her skirt again.
His fingers reached what he wanted and he let out a low, satisfied hum. "Hm… all wet, doll? Damn girl.. already?" Richie smirked and pushed the girl's panties aside.
As his fingers began working her over slowly, [Name] let out a soft moan and reached between her legs, placing her hand over Richie's above her clothes. Richie inserted two digits into her sweet, juicy cunt and slowly thrusted them, his thumb brushing her clit in quick stroking motions. He wanted so badly to finger fuck the shit out of her, but he didn't want the noise of her sopping cunt to draw attention over, so he kept his thrusts slow and even.
[Name] could barely contain herself as is anyway. She squirmed and whimpered through her clamped shut lips, her hand pushing against Richie's and trying to get his fingers to go in deeper, deeper.
Her sounds were starting to get to him. He could feel his cock stirring to life in his jeans and he groaned quietly, wanting nothing more than to bury inside her pussy to relieve the both of them. But instead, he pummeled his fingers deeper into her cunt and ticked off the minutes until this damn movie was over.
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arminsumi · 9 months
Note
HI JAY can i request accidentally getting armin hard?🤭 straddling him during something odm related for whatever n bro gets bricked up to the high heavens n youre both so shy n flustered BUT YALL GOTTA FUCK ATP
needa feel you
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🔞 minors shoo / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content
note: ooh i love love love this !! fits armin perfectly 🤤
warnings — dirty talk, d!ck visuals, light begging, unprotected sex, creampie, creaming, prec*m, u and him being horny
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you were just demonstrating to him a better hip shifting technique to go faster, and the poor boy blushed up to his ears. searing. hot. red. he started stuttering so badly he felt like he was a boy in the cadets again.
and when armin gets hard? god damn he gets hard. throbbing. hot. his juicy tip presses tight against those already tight white pants, the outline looking so good you wanna tug those pants off and take him into your mouth.
when you smile at him after noticing his hardness, he sputters apologies. " fuck, i'm sorry, haha. i-i don't know what's the matter with me, sorry. uh, sh-shit well don't move like that or you'll make it worse. "
" it's — okay. i don't mind. it's... natural, after all. " you speak slowly, nerves tingly. " wh - y... why don't we take care of it so we can get back to practicing more positions — uh, combat positions, you know. of course. "
his eyes widen, the whites showing around those pretty blue irises. you just completely flustered the poor boy.
but those eyes become lidded when the two of you end up with your bodies intertwined, sweaty and noisy and panting, fucking like two bunnies. it's all because of how you grinded your hips on his pelvis so erotically earlier.
feeling your plush thighs engulf his sides made him beg like a dog: "needa feel you, needa feel you so fucking bad please please please let's just d-do it here." he panted, kissing you like a lust-crazed teenager. as soon as you breathlessly nodded, he unfastened his belt — not bothering with taking off all his gear... that's just too much effort. so you fuck half-clothed, and it drives him wild. he's always eyed out the way the thigh belts squeeze your skin and make plush dents.
he's high on lust, head spinning. min's so dizzy from the feeling of your soft walls clenching tight around him, hugging his pretty, veined cock. you're milking out all his precum, creaming so much that a white wring forms around the base of his cock and he can feel it.
you feel and taste so sweet to him, it's too much. he has to stop thrusting every now and then just to catch his breath. and when he does that, his dumb fat tip digs into your favorite gummy spot, his length unmoving. his happy trail hair subtly grazes against your tummy as he keeps himself as close as possible to your body.
" that's so good — so good — so good so good, you feel so fucking good. s-ooo fucking good, baby ! " he pants, vocals straining and brows kneading together.
his body tenses up, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down the contours of his physique.
" don't stop, please don't you fucking stop, 'min. gonna make me cum. " you speak and shiver when he starts up those sloppy strokes again.
your head goes empty, body goes numb on pleasure; how can it feel this insanely good? min's falling apart under your influence. when he cums, he blurts out some surprising things.
like a chant of " i love you i love you i love you — i fucking love you ! " right as he fills you to the brim with his creamy release.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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https-florals · 1 year
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Hi! Your request are silly open right? If so would you mind writing something along the lines of JJ and the reader have been dating for a bit and JJ keeps like complimenting or praising the reader and the reader can’t help but blush/get turned on and JJ notices she has a praise kink so he teases her with it a little more, especially if n front of their friends until he finally used it like in bed with her?
sweet talk - j.m.
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word count: 2.5k
summary: jj finds out a very valuable piece of information about you.
warnings: SMUTTT under the cut, 18+!! lotta praise, slight dumbification but just a tiny bit, jj being sexy per usual, public fooling around kinda but not really, not canon because i like to pretend the chateau is still with us LMAO
a/n: okay obviously i became OBSESSED with this idea when i first read this ask!! started as a little blurb but grew to this monstrosity lol. thank you for the ask!!! i love you all so so much 🫶🏻
Even though you and JJ have been together for about a month, you’re still pretty shy. You’re still shy in public, shy when he kisses you, even more shy in bed. Your boyfriend would give you the world if he could, do anything to get inside that pretty little head of yours and see what you’re thinking. You’re becoming a little more relaxed around his friends, which he’s grateful for.
Tonight, everyone is sitting around the fire pit outside the Cháteau. It's a pretty summer night, with fireflies darting around and stars peeking through the clouds.
You’re perched on J’s lap, John B and Sarah in a similar position next to you. Kie and Cleo are doing a shotgunning contest, and Pope is actually chill for once, a blunt in his hand.
You’re roasting a marshmallow over the fire, laughing with Sarah about a new sitcom episode, when JJ taps your arm.
“Will you make me a s’more?” he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and you roll your eyes.
“Can’t you make yourself one?” you tease, but still slide a graham cracker out of the box and a mini hershey’s.
“Tastes better when you make it, though.” He’s not wrong, you make a mean s’more. When you go to hand it to him, he just opens his mouth.
Your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops, but your lips still curl into a smile. “Fine.” You adjust so you’re facing him a bit better, and hold the s’more as he takes a bite. JJ’s blues don’t leave yours as he takes a bite, and you kick yourself mentally as he groans out of satisfaction. This shouldn’t be this attractive, after all, it’s a s’more. That's like, the least sexy food ever, you tell yourself. Now a slice of juicy watermelon, you could get behind. But right now, you’re just being ridiculous.
You’re snapped back to reality when he swallows and exhales, hand squeezing your thigh. “Atta girl. Was a damn good s’more.”
Your cheeks go fire hot.
“Dear god, this is not the place for foreplay!” John B groans.
You clap your hand over the lower half of your face as Sarah starts to laugh.
JJ throws a beer can at him. “Man, Sarah's been grinding on you for the past half hour and I haven't said shit. Are you not in like, massive amounts of pain?”
It's John B's turn to blush, and he looks down at the ground quickly when Sarah snorts, pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh.
“Are we being too…” you’re struggling to think of the word as you whisper to your boyfriend- “Pda-ish?” Surely not, because he had a point about John B and Sarah. They’re all over each other all the time, and you should be able to do the same.
“No, no!” JJ’s eyes are wide as if you told him that you were thinking about shaving your eyebrows off. “You’re doing perfect, baby.” His hands rub up the sides of your arms, and you smile, all bashful.
Butterflies fill your stomach at the way he’s looking at you.
“Absolutely perfect,” he repeats, and before you even realize it you’re subconsciously squeezing your thighs together.
As soon as you do it, you hope he doesn’t notice, but his lips curl into a little smirk after the realization hits.
You hop up quickly, and wipe your sticky marshmallow fingers on your shorts. “I'm gonna go get a blanket! I’m a little chilly!” you chirp, and nearly sprint into the house.
Gears are turning in JJ's head. He’s chuckling as he sips his beer, so much to the point that Sarah gives him a weird look.
“What are you cracking up about?” she asks, watching the blond boy grin and shake his head.
“I just learned something very interesting about my girlfriend, Sarah.”
You come out of the house a few minutes later, and Kie has pulled out her ukulele. They’re all singing along to the Bob Marley song she’s playing, and JJ pats his thigh, an invitation for you to come back and sit on his lap. Tentatively, you take your spot, draping the blanket over the both of you. Under the fabric, your fingers shift over the frayed hem of JJ’s cargo shorts. His callused hand curls around yours, and he threads your fingers together.
You relax at his touch, and start to sing along with the rest of your friends. JJ lightly pulls on one of thin braids scattered through your messy hair, each one with a different colored thread running through it- courtesy of Kiara and Sarah. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and you turn your head a bit more toward him and frown. “What?”
“You just sound so pretty.” His voice is low, and it rumbles in your eardrum like thunder. You just know your cheeks are going pink again, and you try to fight the rising need you feel.
“My sweet, pretty girl.”
That’s it. You probably look like a tomato. You chew your bottom lip as you smile, and suppress the urge to kiss him right then and there.
JJ grins, and that’s when it hits you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
“Damn, why are you all red?” Kie laughs as she hits a chord on her uke, and naturally everyone turns to look at you.
“JJ, what are you saying to that poor girl?” Sarah fake pouts and shakes her head at him like she’s scolding a puppy.
You cover your mouth, flushing even more with embarrassment.
“We’ve been goin’ on a little journey of self-discovery over here,” he answers, face all smug as his hand shifts to the top of your thigh under the blanket. His thumb just skims over the crotch of your shorts, so thin that you just know he can feel through them. Feel how wet you’re getting.
Your guess is spot on, cause his eyes widen and he does that thing where he sticks his tongue in his cheek and laughs. “Finding new things out about each other,” he continues, not breaking eyecontact with you.
“Is that a fancy way to say harassing her?” Cleo pipes in, snorting before she says, “You’re a bad, bad man, Maybank.”
He shrugs, all cocky.
Luckily, conversation carries away from the two of you, but his hand is still against your pussy. Thank God for that damn blanket. His fingers are idly running over the fabric, and it’s driving you insane.
“We need to go,” you whisper to him, uncomfortable with the burning between your thighs.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Do we?” You’re usually not the one dragging him away from social functions- that’s more JJ’s style.
You nod fervently, rocking back and forth on his thigh and trying to make it unnoticeable.
“C’mon, sweetheart, you know it’s rude to demand things,” he says back to you lowly, and you’re silently rejoicing that no one is paying attention to the two of you.
You swallow, and take a deep breath. “Please, JJ, can we leave?”
“There you go,” he sighs, and he helps push you up off him.
After a shit ton of teasing from the Pogues, you’re finally able to slip away. You’re barely through the door of your apartment when JJ jumps you, kissing you hard and running his hands up and down your sides, over your ass, and coming to rest just under the waistband of your shorts.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a praise kink?” he asks point-blank, against your lips as you’re fumbling with his belt.
“I don’t,” you gasp out, finally pulling it through the loops and throwing it down.
“Bullshit, baby.” JJ finally gets your shorts down, and his hand just ghosts over your underwear. “Tell me the truth.”
“Fuck, J,” you whine, pushing his shorts down and trying to shove your hand down his underwear, but he jumps back, leaving you devoid of his touch.
You huff like a child preparing to throw a tantrum.
“C’mon. Tell the truth.”
“I didn’t know I had one, JJ,” you cry, just wanting to feel him. You swallow, and follow up with, “Not until you.”
You can basically see his head get bigger as he grins, and finally puts his hands back on you. “All I wanted to know, sweet thing,” he laughs before he kisses you again, tongue slipping between your teeth. He tastes like beer and a little bit of marshmallow, and he smells like bonfire smoke.
He pulls away from you just long enough for you to both throw off your shirts, and then he’s picking you up and carrying you into your bedroom. JJ sets you on the bed all gentle, a startling contrast to the way he’s kissing you and touching you, the way he yanks your panties off and slides a finger between your folds. “Fucking finally,” he groans, nudging himself inbetween your legs. “Wider.”
You fall open for him, and he braces your hip with one hand. “Atta girl,” he says, and he slides two fingers in, slow and steady as he leans over you to trail kisses down your neck. You grind against his palm as he sucks a spot on your neck, your back arching and hips bucking. You watch his hand slide into his boxers, watch the movement of his hand slide over his cock.
JJ notices how enraptured you are, and he removes his fingers from you, a little shocked when you don’t make much of a fuss. “You wanna do something for me, pretty?”
That’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, thighs pressed together as he pulls his dick out, and you’re absolutely bewitched. You sit back on your heels and look up at JJ, a perfect little picture of innocence with your eyes all wide… and then you open your mouth.
It’s fucking pornographic. There’s no way in hell you’re real, JJ thinks, as he curls your hair around his hand and thrusts into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him, and his head falls back. “Good fucking girl.”
He also doesn’t think you’ve ever been this bold for him. But holy shit, he’s not complaining, especially when you gag around the tip of his cock. Your mascara is smudging beneath your eyes, lips swollen and looking so pretty wrapped around him.
You’re squirming, and JJ can feel the vibration of all the little sounds you’re making as you suck him off.
“Go on and touch yourself,” he gasps out as he hits the back of your throat.
However, as soon as you moan around him, JJ knows he won’t last long, and he wants too badly to come inside you to let himself get any closer. He’s pulling out quick, ignoring your cries as he pulls you up and pushes you onto the mattress.
On your knees, you fall facefirst into your pillow. JJ smacks your ass once, and is then manhandling you into another position, like he can’t make up his mind. He spots the mirror propped against the wall in your room, and pushes you back on all fours. When you look up, you can see him behind you. You watch as he pushes into you, watch the way his eyes screw shut in concentration, the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead.
Wriggling, you moan out his name and whine as he sets a steady pace, slow, almost too slow. “JJ…”
“What?”
When you just whimper in response, he shakes his head and stills inside you. “C’mon, darlin’, use your words,” he chides, hands smoothing over your hip.
“Go harder, please,” you’re begging, pushing yourself against him.
“There ya go,” he grunts, speeding up, pushing into you hard and deep. He smacks your ass, once, twice, relishing in the little cry you let out each time. He pulls you up against him, chest to your back, hand against your throat as he makes sure you’re looking in the mirror. Makes sure you’re watching him slide in and out of you. “Look at how good you’re taking me,” he groans, hand moving to your clit when he’s sure you won’t look away. “Go on, keep looking for me. Look at how pretty you look, babydoll. All fucked out, and your mascara is even running,” He laughs, and you clench around him at the sound, the burning in your lower stomach becoming almost unbearable. You shake your head, unable to get any words but JJ knows what you need.
He lets you back down slow, propped up on your elbows as he rams into you. You just know you’re gonna have bruising on your cervix, but that's a problem for later.
His fingers circle your clit purposed and quick, and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. The way he shudders inside you lets you know he’s not too far behind you.
“J, S’close. M’gonna-”
“Hold it,” he says, tone a little mean as he picks up his pace. He wants to fall apart with you.
Just when you think you can’t hold on anymore, can’t reign it in, he twitches hard. “Now, baby. Come on, all over my cock, pretty-” He cuts himself off by his own moan, spewing into you as your cunt spasms around him. “Good girl,” he repeats as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, over and over. “My good fucking girl.”
JJ is still murmuring it when he collapses next to you, kissing your forehead. “So perfect for me,” he says all soft with a smile and another kiss to your temple, a complete contrast to the low growl in his voice moments before. “Gonna clean you up real good,” he chirps before hopping off the bed and into the bathroom. You giggle as you watch him walk away, forever finding your boyfriend’s bare ass a little funny.
JJ comes back with a damp, warm towel and two glasses of sweet tea, and he gives one to you after he helps you move and sit back against the headboard. He pulls the old sex wax tshirt out of his drawer and puts it on you, then nestles himself between your legs to clean you up. You wince as he swipes the towel over your pussy, and he shushes you and puts a hand on the back of your calf, soft and comforting. “Did so good for me, honey,” he says again, kissing your forehead for what seems the hundredth time, and pulls the covers up over you both.
When you curl into him, tiredness hits you like a truck, and it seems to do the same for him as he yawns, and leans over to turn off the lamp.
“JJ?” you ask, quietly.
“Yeah?”
“So maybe you’re right. About me having a praise kink.”
He laughs, and pulls you a bit closer to him. “Yeah, no shit!”
You frown. “What? Was it that bad?”
“Damn, baby, if I woulda known you’d act like that if I talked all sweet to you, I woulda done it a long, long time ago.”
thank you for reading!! likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!
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ipegchangbin · 3 months
Text
— breed minho.
🏷️ sub!boypussy!minho, dom!male!reader. condom breaking (unprotected sex). creampie. breeding kink & pregnancy threats (as a kink).
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playing it safe is always wise. the both of you trust each other with no shadow of a doubt that you’ll have enjoyable and safe sex. the love that you shared would never falter, even in bed.
so, when something goes wrong, it doesn’t turn out horribly for minho.
even putting the condom on your cock seemed to spur your boyfriend on, leaving his cunt soaking wet. perhaps it was the mere sight of your length or the fact that the rubber struggles to fit you every single time. you have to be the one to repeat “i’m fine” every single time you put it on, because shit, the damn thing always looks like it’s suffocating your cock.
it doesn’t take minho much to love you even through the rubber, though. he can still feel every inch of you inside him, feel how your veins pulse against his tight pussy’s walls. you two have always done it this way, safe and secure and deliciously sweet with the lovemaking. minho shies away just thinking about it, but he doesn’t escape your reassuring kisses to ground him back into the action.
thrust. minho’s body moves up with the bed as you push yourself down on his plush walls. thrust. your boyfriend’s eyes roll back as he lets out a pathetic, syrupy whine. thrust. your grunts sound like an angel’s song, a blessing to minho who always craves to listen to your voice since it simultaneously stimulates his ears and his poor little pussy. you thrust and thrust with no intention of stopping.
minho claws at your back, attempting to cage your hips in with his legs. he whines your name like a helpless mantra or a prayer, he isn’t sure and he can’t think. you thrust, you go faster, and minho’s cries escalate in pitch.
snap.
“huh?”
you stop your hips with a sudden pullout, examining the split condom on your swollen cock.
“n-no, put it back—” minho’s protests are cut off by your concerned huff.
“it broke. i’ll get a new one,” you suggest, before your boyfriend’s hands appear on your dick. he aligns it back to his pussy, not caring about the feeling of the ripped rubber on his hands.
“d-don’t care.” he pants and that’s when you notice how watery his eyes are. his pussy is extra wet, hole twitching with an ache to be filled by you again.
his orgasm is as ruined as the broken condom.
in reality, there’s nothing more that he craves than to be bred. he shoots you a knowing gaze with a severely contrasting pout. it’s similar to the look he has when you put the condom on; he’s hungry, yes, but always yearning for what seemed to be more.
and now, he’s pleading to have you raw. you smirk, teasing the boy by ripping the condom fully off your stiff cock.
you craved this moment as much as he did.
“aren’t you a hungry little boy?” your hips seem to move on their own, cock entering minho’s cunt all in one swift push at your last syllable.
“y/n!” minho almost screams. god, he’s so warm, his juicy walls hitting your cock directly. the wetness makes you slide in so easily that you only grow harder, but the velvety soft and tight feeling engulfs you with a warm comfort.
you both moan and pull each other impossibly closer. minho kisses you first, practically forcing his mouth onto you. you can’t help but smile into the kiss before pulling your hips back and slamming back in.
“i-it’s so good,” minho whimpers. “want y/n to…”
“…breed you?”
he whines loudly at that. his hands are firmly cemented on your back, nails leaving catlike scratches on your skin. he wants you, all of you, from your raw cock down to your cum.
“looks like someone’s needy.”
you lift your upper body, straightening your back and holding minho by his thighs. he unfortunately can’t cage you with his arms like this, leaving him cutely helpless. he attempts to hide his face at first before settling on clawing the sheets.
the thrusts that come after the readjusted position are unusually rough and fast. it’s ragged and you could do better but fuck, it feels too good to keep hitting minho’s sweet spots. one of your hands snakes down to his pussy. your thumb finds his clit and presses down, sending a thunderstorm of shocks down minho’s arched back.
it feels like hell for minho’s pussy. you could hear sinful squelches of his insides being corrupted by you over and over. you fill him up and then you don’t, your cock hitting past his sweet spot all up against his limit and it leaves minho wide-eyed in a cute shocked expression you’ve never seen before. it’s hell but it’s heaven, his juices telling you that he wants you and more.
you don’t know what overcomes you the second you open your mouth to speak.
“want me to knock you up so bad?”
he nods. then he whines and drools and whips his head from side to side as he tries to contain himself from an impending orgasm. he wants to make sure that you’ll be true to your word. “wanna get pregnant,” he cries out to you repeatedly.
he’s so fucking into it. he spills a bit of his cream right onto your cock, almost like he’s about to cum. he’s ready to breed. he wants to be bred. he yearns to be bred, especially by you.
it’s not much until a moment passes and you’re riled up yourself, going harder and faster as your thrusts alternate from bullet fast to whole. his cunt seems to cage you in, tightening even more, and the sensations of raw and unbothered touch leaves you both heaving, screaming, and—
“y/n!”
you cum deep inside minho’s pussy. minho creams on your cock.
you both still in place, groaning out your next breaths before pulling each other into a close hug and kiss.
exhausted, you almost collapse on top of minho, but your arms catch you. your boyfriend chuckles lightly but hums after. you look up at him and press a hand down on him abdomen, making him whine and feel the head of your cock pushing against his limit.
“liked that?”
minho smiles. “loved it. we should do that more often.”
he doesn’t mind if you’ll get him knocked up for sure. he trusts you. if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. you both laugh at the sight of the discarded remains of the broken condom in the trash.
at least he’s safe with you.
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holybibly · 4 months
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i know i’ve seen one like this out there but like sports players ateez… just holy 🙃
like can you imagine what it’d be like to be a cheerleader (literally) and then finding out they’ve been perving over you in your uniform and they decide that they have to have you and slowly one by one they add themselves into your little reverse harem … MM!
I LOVE harems, and I have no shame about it. I hate to have to make choices when I can have it all. 
You just piss them off—literally everything about you, from that extra-short puffy skirt and that cute tight top to those damn pom-poms and those stupid ponytails with the pink ribbons on them. You're so cheeky and proud that you don't even look in their direction. 
You don't admire them, and don't drool all over the floor. You don't put your wet knickers in their lockers or send them naked pictures. These facts literally scratch them from the inside out. The burning hatred eats away at their brains. Who do you think you are? They're a bloody star football team—titled, rich, and sexy. And you—you're just a pathetic bouncing girl, and they won't talk about how much they stare at your tits when you do jumping jacks. 
This whole nonsense is Hongjoog's fault. It was his idea to drag you into the shower after the match, and Woosan evil accomplices just added fuel to the fire. But you gave them hell. You nearly ripped out Hongjoong's beautiful cat eyes, you kicked and bit them, making them look like they survived a fight with a wildcat.
God, all that fire in your little body set them off in such a way that from that moment on, well, nothing went as planned. 
You were terribly annoying; that's what Yeosang told himself as he pinned you against the shelves in a corner of the library. He didn't like girls like that—so loud and so rude. That's what he told himself over and over again as he feverishly tore off your shirt and kissed everything he could get his hands on. He just wanted to get a taste of it. Just a taste. He said to himself pushing his fingers into your pussy.
All those little skirts and cute little bows-you're definitely an attention whore. You just begged to be fucked.
And Wooyoung was driven mad by the fact that it was never him who did it. All your smiles, all your sweet words, all your sultry looks - you gave them to everyone, but never to him. And it fucking irritated him. It annoyed him so much that one day he just grabbed you in class, bent you over the table and spanked your juicy, perfect bottom until it was red and covered in his handprints. Of course, he took your knickers with him.
You were such an arrogant, bloody teacher's pet, and God, Seonghwa just wanted to shut your smart mouth with his fat cock, which is pretty much what he did. It was amazing to see you kneeling as he fucked you in the mouth. He was holding your head in place as he slid his big cock over your tongue, pushing it deeper and deeper until the head hit the back of your throat and you were choking on it. God, it was exactly what he'd had in his mind all the time. And he wanted more of it. 
Mean, aren't you? You're so damn mean that everything about you sets Jongho's cold, collected temper on fire. 
Bad girls have to be punished. They're taught to obey by having their cute skirts pulled up and their slutty wet cunt spanked until they learn to behave. And he teaches you that lesson by pinning you to the dressing room bench with one hand while he mercilessly spanks your pussy with the other. He will do this until you're squeal and squirm, begging him to stop, or do you just want more?
"I'm gonna fuck you, baby. You are going to beg for my cock until you start to sob. You know how to beg, don't you, or is that mouth just for cock sucking? If so, you can put that pretty tongue around mine immediately. Mingi used to love to tease you by whispering the dirtiest and most horrible things in your ear during the lessons. You used to blush so beautifully, and he couldn't help but wonder if your pussy was as beautifully pink as your chubby cheeks. 
San didn't love you. Absolutely not. And he told himself that over and over again, as his tongue slowly fucked your sweet cunt and his strong hands held your hips in a dead grip. He was angry, not at all jealous that you were paying attention to some dickhead guy. And he just needed a bit of relaxation before he broke the bastard's jaw, and you were just about perfect for the release. It's not jealousy, San assured himself. His mouth pressed greedily against your damn tasty pussy. Not jealousy at all.
You were so tiny, so fragile. And Yunho just wanted to destroy you. And your bloody temper didn't help. You looked so beautiful as he stretched you with his fingers. You had orgasm after orgasm, so many that the stimulation was painful. Your juices were all over the place, you were squrting so hard that your whole body was shaking from the overwhelming power of the orgasm. Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your eyes rolled back in your head. But that was just training before he fucked you hard, dumb and drooling. And as captain of the cheerleading squad, you knew very well that the only way to get the perfect result was to practice endlessly.
You were on his mind all the time. He thought about you all the time, and it was driving him crazy. Why don't you look at him? Why aren't you crawling at his feet, where your place is? When you could be sucking his dick or moaning his name, why do you spend all your fucking time talking and being rude? Hongjoong couldn't stop asking himself the same questions. You had wrapped him around your finger faster than he was able to comprehend and you had him in a choke hold. He hated you with the same passion as he wanted to fuck you. And God, he was going to do it. Left alone after his next win, he couldn't control himself and as a result you're on all fours with his dick deep inside you. He fucked you mercilessly and hard. Every thrust of his hips was filled with hatred for the stupid feeling of love he felt for you. You were like a drug to him. Hongjoong never wanted to stop experiencing this ecstasy.
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kissitbttr · 3 months
Text
“toji, baby? can you do alena’s hair please?” you call out from the kitchen, fixing simple breakfast for your little family,
he nods at you, giving a short kiss on your cheek as a confirmation before heading towards his little girl’s play pen. his eyes brighten when alena is busying herself with her my little pony plushies, adorable messy hair comes into view making him chuckle,
“hey ya sweetheart, having fun?” toji walks around to face his pretty baby, the sound of her dad’s voice causing her to look up. he swears the moment her big round eyes stare at him, he’s ready to kill anyone who dares to try take his daughter away,
with a toothy smile, she babbles away while clapping her chubby hands. feeling excited to see her dad there, seemingly cannot wait to be picked up by him,
“aren’t you the prettiest girl i have ever seen, hm? aside from mama of course. dunno what she sees in me. she’s a ten and i’m not. i’m happy she chose me, though. such a lucky bastard” toji makes sure to whisper the last word to himself because he doesn’t want his daughter to hear him cuss.
his hands go under her armpits before lifting her up, little legs kicking away in excitement making toji chuckles. “time to do my little alena’s hair!”
he brings her to the baby chair near the dining room, where you can see it too. your eyes look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of him setting your baby down,
“got anything to work on today?”
toji shakes his head, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up to the elbows. “nah. took a day off. i’m letting shiu handling it today”
one of your eyebrows quirks up, turning out to plate the cut up fruits and eggs on the table. “oh yeah? what if there’s something really important come up that you need to—“
“i need my girls more” he cuts you off with a soft voice and a grin, his eyes look up to you and see you mirroring his smile but it’s much more prettier to him. “plus, i’m sure they can handle not having their ceo for today. and tomorrow. maybe”
his fingers move to thread lightly under the strands of alena’s hair as she toys with a little action figure toji had gifted her few days prior. it keeps herself busied while he’s doing her hair,
“how about you, baby? got any meetings or anything?”
you shrug, grabbing a few utensils. “just one with the team to discuss the launch of our newest design. should be quick, though. hopefully. i need to speed up the process and everything because it seems that everyone is fuc—freaking slow.”
he chuckles, tying a band around alena’s mini bun. “i’m sure you can handle it, darling. you’re ruthless like that. one of the reasons why i fell on love with you, is it?”
“would you still, if i had to kill them?”
“absolutely” he answers without hesitation making you laugh,
“god, we are bad parents”
“don’t know what you’re talking about. we’re pretty good at what we’re doing” toji smiles at his baby, who suddenly chucks the toy towards the table. “damn, our baby got strength”
“got that from you, i think” you lean towards the table and snatch a cut up strawberry before plucking it into your mouth,
“nope. that’s from you” he corrects, softly patting alena’s hair that are sticking out. “remember when we had an argument and you almost hit me with—“
“we do not talk about that” you shake your head, not wanting to remember,
“was pretty sexy to me” he replies casually. “i was so turned on by that”
both of you share a laugh, causing alena to look up at both of you at the sound of it.
“so—do i get to see my pretty wife’s latest design or—“ toji trails off, planting a kiss on alena’s chubby cheek before grabbing a handful of berries for himself,
you tilt your head to the side, a small smirk tugs upon your lips and toji immediately catches what that look meant for,
“i see trouble” he eyes you for a second, chewing on the juicy fruit. “is it sexy? god, if it was you can’t keep teasing me, baby. i’d die”
“so dramatic, you won’t die”
“i will for you though” and he means it. “is it dresses? leather involved perhaps?”
shaking your head, you reply “lingeries, babe. night gowns, garters, panties. all that”
and toji suddenly stops moving. breathing even. his eyes widening at the mention of lingeries,
“oh fuck. you are killing me.”
“toji! language!”
but alena just laughs at her silly banter between her parents
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datura-tea · 11 months
Note
Why is there much Ulysses hate? Like I don’t understand if you don’t like him…that’s fine but he’s got a damn fine voice and a cool look, and a lot of people like terrible characters Vuples whose done way worse shit and looks twelve doing it.
hmm i can think of a few reasons...
he's the face of a dlc that introduces a backstory to your blank slate of a player character - a lot of people don't like that apparently, even though to me it's a very very juicy addition to my courier's history hehe
he speaks so densely! so much symbol and metaphor and a lot of things that he says contradict each other. i love it but i'm a creative writing major who loves unreliable narrators :)
let's face it, a lot of gamers just don't engage with the material. they just want to go through with the game with as little friction as possible
he's black and some of the fandom is.... well. racist. and they can't take the idea of an intelligent, well-spoken black man challenging them and their player character, unfortunately
idk what else rn but there are probably more reasons. god knows i get enough weirdos telling me why in my askbox. i just ignore and delete them tho lol so they don't bother me :))
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
Note
nsfw ⬇️!!!
no one:
eren&y/n on the tour bus: https://twitter.com/blckvidz/status/1610833472255401985?s=46&t=UBh3Fl6RQgRJS9W9JhuVVA
…whewwww, god I am so feral!
at this point, imagine being a fly on the wall in their room because 😮‍💨 I have no words…(well maybe a few cause y’all know I gotta elaborate. I swear this pairing does something to me.)
cw: dirty (just filthy) talk, !black fem reader, reverse cowgirl, eren and the reader being literal whores, straight porn no plot
“…yeah, slow…just like that, baby. Fuck..” the command coming from none other than your fiancé as his words drew out in a whimper. It couldn’t be helped when you were fucking him so good..watching each inch of his length disappear and get swallowed by the grip of that plump, juicy pussy. Creaminess dripping all down his shaft as you worked yourself on him in a fluid motion; arching your back and bouncing that thick ass all the same…letting you ride him like this was so euphoric. Which was much needed after the wild show he had tonight. He had no use for deep tissue massages or some off the wall cryo-therapy to recover when he could simply lie back and let his baby ride his cock as he blew clouds of smoke into the air. The way you wrapped around him was indescribable..losing his mind each time you took him further until it disappeared. “..you riding this dick so good..I love it. Got me ready to nut in that shit..” letting out in a drowsy and high pitched wail. This had been the occurrence every night on this cross country tour..fucking like absolute animal in ever city. Encouraging him before he went on stage with the nastiest head possible and congratulating him on a job well done by making him empty his balls inside of you. “…pussy so fucking fat..damn, baby..” You two were absolute sluts for one another and without an ounce of shame. It was only by a miracle and birth control that you hadn’t ended up pregnant with little Eren Jr. But for now, you wanted to spend every opportunity you got giving him the best sex you could offer. With a dumbed out expression across your face, mouth agape in a smile, (y/n) kept going; hands pressed to his thighs to maintain your stance. “…you get this pussy so wet, daddy..I can’t stop. I love the way you feel inside me..” and trust, he didn’t want you to! Not to mention you were doing a hell of a job, so much so he didn’t have to lift a finger. Those walls pulsating and throbbing around him, causing his chest to heave. Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life, going dumb on his dick..occasionally reaching back to snake a finger around the thin string of that thong to keep it out of your way. For a moment, it got so wet that it ended up slipping out and you had to grasp his shaft with those long acrylics and put it back in. “Oh shit..” making him chuckle at the fact you were that soaked right now. Crying out with loud whimpers, you’d take him to the hilt; Smacking noises from your stickiness covering his base. “Just keep fucking me, princess..this your dick.” you were everything he needed right now and the only thing he would. He’d let you have it all as long you kept making him feel like this.
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cyverrieee · 5 months
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[1] WITH A COSPLAYER!YUU WHO SADLY ENDED UP IN TWISTED WONDERLAND WHILE IN COSPLAY...
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01 ➳ I might expload if i keep on thinking about this juicy
brainrot eating my brain into BITS anyways..
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ᴏɴᴇ ᴜɴғᴀɪᴛʜғᴜʟ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ! ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡᴏʀsᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏsᴘʟᴀʏ. ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅʟʏ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀs ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇᴅ ᴇʏᴇs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ...
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ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ʀᴏsᴇʜᴇᴀʀᴛs
Now you were suddenly transported into twisted wonderland in your Riddle Rosehearts cosplay. This was supposed to be the day you were going to have a fun convention day with your friends who cosplayed the other Heartslabyul members. Now that you literally get to face the actual Riddle Rosehearts. You were definitely fuming with embarrassment! You laughed uncannily, the other members of Heartslabyul still incoherent shock. Especially Ace
You try to blabber out some excuses WHY you were wearing Riddle's dorm outfit! Riddle was much confused but slightly impressed. The makeup was nice, the styling of the wig was impressive. Especially the details in his atrocious outfit (if you handmade it of course).
God damnit! You were basically dying in embarrassment, you can't possibly say to Riddle that he is a fictional character in a game! No that knowledge is definitely unbearable to someone like him. But you couldn't find anymore words to describe your current predicament; your only chance was to tell.. Half of the truth!
"W-Well.. Your a famous favorite... Character back in my.. World! People loved your personality, they find you.. "
Now how to describe this? How the hell do you say something about it! Riddle was shocked. He wasn't expecting people to like his personality knowing how stern he was before his overblot.. Or even now!
You mostly spend the following hours in your Riddle cosplay, what would make it even funnier is when you and riddle would walk together, you two look the same but the only difference was in height. Obviously you were taller than Riddle. But you really slayed in those heels!
Of course, when you finally took off your Riddle cosplay was when he actually saw you. He felt like he got tricked because aint no wait some of your features just disappeared! (Your makeup skills were too good, professional catfisher!..)
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ʟᴇᴏɴᴀ ᴋɪɴɢsᴄʜᴏʟᴀʀ
Well shit. This is awkward. Its not everyday you face the character you were literally cosplaying as... You found feel a rush of embarrassment go through your head. You were wearing the fairy gala outfit of Leona with a high ponytail (because before being suddenly sucked into Twisted Wonderland. You were sweating in your cosplay and decided to put your wig up in a ponytail because it was thick)
Leona only looked at you and laughed. Okay now, this was more embarrassing than you expected. Your cosplay was a bit incomplete if you could say. You couldn't find any damn white shoes to match the outfit so EARNESTLY and EVEN SO DESPERATELY asked your own mother to borrow her silly heels that she wore on her wedding, but fuck that was like... More than a decade, thats for sure. Somehow it kinda fits you, same shoe size or whatever. It definitely caught Leona's attention knowing how you're almost at his height, yet just kick off a few more centimeters then you'll reach it!
Ruggie feels constipated seeing two Leonas sit in one room. Goddamit! Now he has to grab for two of them! Oh? One of them is real nice for no absolute reason? A nice Leona feels like a nightmare, but he'll take wha he can get. Since you can't get out of your silly cosplay, you were forcibly going around the campus with your fairy gala cosplay. A bit embarrassing but it has a few perks, people who didnt knew it was the fake Leona would have had probably been shaling their boots off. A little threatening to have something wont hurt right? Nahh, they wont know anyways. You were a Ruggie in disguise.
Sometimes, Leona would point details you missed. Like oh! You forgot this or you literally forgot to add that. He just wanted to seen as a perfect piece of art. If your cosplay is 100% handmade, he is secretly impressed by your dedication and motivation. What? This took you 6 months? HALF A YEAR? His respect kinda went up a bit. If you cosplay with your friends and family, maybe tell some stories about you and your friend/cousin/sibling dressing up as Falena and doing the scene from Lion King with your younger sibling/short friend. "Whats the Lion King Scene?" All the braincells probably left out of your brain because oh my fucking god, all you hear in your head is "LONG LIVE THE KING.." and you know.. yeah... You went silent after that, you cannot say that. Moving on!
When Leona saw you out of your cosplay, he was still secretly impressed over your makeup skills; not one for makeup himself but he just finds that you can literally become another person just with makeup impressive but he wont dare say it out loud. Professional catfisher am i right?
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ᴀᴢᴜʟ ᴀsʜᴇɴɢʀᴏᴛᴛᴏ
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Oh you cosplayed Azul? Hes fine on the outside but screaming in the inside. If the world allows you, you might hear him scream.
Jade and Floyd finds you pretty cool. You cosplayed Azul and you looked so silly and cool in it!
If you were a chubby cosplayer, Azul will scream at this point. An actual scream (not because hes scared or anything. Hes having a plentiful of positive emotions rushing through his brain.)
He will check your cosplay too! Checking every detail. Saying this like "impressive" "amazing labor!" He would definitely be shock on how much time it took you , even if his outfit is easily to replicate. Your broke ass decided to take it the hard way andake it by scratch because no money will be wasted generously.
Please show your Azul impression. He actually kinda wants to see it. If you do silly things in your Azul cosplay. He's gonna be slightly embarrassed but at some point, he might get used to it.
DID I HEAR THAT CLEARLY?! YOU MADE A PROP OF AZUL'S GOLDEN CONTRACT?! He looks at it with awe. Even though it just glossy yellow paper with some writings, its still very nice you went this far for something as someone like him.
You two will roam the hallways asking for contracts now! Just kidding (if you want to :3)
When Azul saw you without your cosplay, he still finds you amazing in your skills of makeup and stylization. Not everyone can transform themselves into another person with makeup and a measly brush no?
The professional catfisher strikes again!
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➥ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ? ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ᴏʀ ʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʜᴇ!
! ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ! ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴛ ғᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢʟʏ !
➳ [2] 𝘒𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘮, 𝘝𝘪𝘭, 𝘐𝘥𝘪𝘢, 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴
ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!
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