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s0ft-karina · 27 days

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i’m giving birthday sex tonight and i’m so excited HAHA. gonna be a fun night ✨✨

#dear diary post ✨#hmu if you want birthday sex HAHAHA #jk #but imagine 🤪

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emmyrosee · 8 months

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“Pssst…”

“Choke.”

“Wanna makeout?”

Instantly, as if on a cue, Hajime’s face blisters into a flush, eyes widening and brows angry as he whips his head to face you.

You’re smiling, and he hates it, and you’re wearing his shirt that completely drowns your frame, hands and knees on the mattress just inches away, and he’s convinced he could live an extra 15 years if you hadn’t stumbled into his life.

But you did stumble into his life. Yay him.

His pencil taps rapidly against his desk, his studying having been completely hijacked by your straightforward flirts. Inviting you to do homework with him never really ended well, and how he hasn’t learned this lesson yet, is a mystery to you both.

“I’m busy.”

You huff and shift to sit on the bed as the gods intended, “you can take three minutes to makeout with me.”

“When was the last time we made out less than ten minutes?” He asks, and he wishes he hadn’t by the way your cocky grin splays over your face.

“Cant help that you’re into me,” you croon. He groans as he tosses his hand up to his face, scrubbing gently to revitalize himself. He’s quickly snapped out of it when he feels your feet wrap around the base of his desk chair and pull him closer to the bed.

This, has him chuckling from disbelief, moving his hands from his face and letting his eyes flick towards your feet. “Be so for real right now,” he says, snickering.

You bite your tongue between your teeth, but before you can do anything else, you scream as he makes a dash at you, barely letting you kick in defense before he pins you down to the bed, his broad chest doing most of the caging while his fingers spider up your sides and his lips sponge kisses on your neck and ears.

“You’re so annoying,” he growls, the vibrations of the rasp tickling your neck. His fingers still and instantly, your arms shift to toss around his neck, looking up at him longingly.

You lift a hand up to card his hair away from his face, “hi.”

“Hey baby.”

With that, he leans down to kiss you, knee planting on the bed to keep him stable and allow him to deepen the kiss. You mewl happily, letting your fingers push his head impossibly closer to you.

You taste sweet, like the bowl of fruit you’ve been stealing from him for the past hour, and you’re so warm from being swaddled in his blankets that he feels calm just by being close to you.

Then again, you always have that affect on him.

With a slight bite of your lips, he slowly starts to pull back, planting little pecks to soothe the bites. You giggle happily and reach up eagerly for each one.

“Haji?”

“What?”

Biting your lip cheekily, he hardens his gaze and reinforces his grip slightly, ready to restart a tickle attack if needed.

“Got you to makeout with me.”

You smirk and lick his nose with the tip of your tongue, making him reel back slightly with a scrunch of his face. He looks at you blankly, while you laugh and play with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck.

“How do you always manage to get your damn way?” He mumbles, leaning down to press another kiss on your lips. Under him, you giggle and chase his lips, clearly eager that now you’ve gotten him to kiss you once, he’s keen to give you more.

Like he always does.

Like he always will.

“Cant help that you’re into me.”

“I really am. Asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

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qingxin-dream · 9 months

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“In Spite of Thorns”

summary | all you needed was a bit more color in your life. something to make life seem not so dull. little did you know the wallflower of a florist next door found himself in a similar dilemma. (art credits: @/MNCE_o on twitter)

warnings | profanity, pining, reader is a horrible flirt, reader gets a tattoo, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, semi-public sex, reader receives oral, face fucking, edging/orgasm denial, mention of cervix-kissing, breeding

genre | florist!kuni au, fluff, slow burn, smut with plot

word count | 5.2k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

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There was a little flower shop next to your regular morning coffee joint that always caught your eye.

On your way to work, you’d often sit outside the tiny cafe downtown and admire the lovely bouquets sitting pretty in the windowsill next door. You imagined a sweet old lady running such an adorable business, the type to water her flowers early in the morning and know every person who walks through her door.

Much to your surprise, there was only one person attending to the shop—it was a young man with short indigo hair that framed his face and trailed down the back of his neck in soft wisps. You noticed he kept to himself with a stoic expression most of the time. You caught him once switching the flowers on display, it was the only time his face revealed a glimpse of emotion—something deeper and more meaningful than silent indifference.

The city was a place often devoid of the beauty and tranquility nature can offer. It was easy to get lost in the hum-drum of daily life and the grind of your 9-to-5 job, overwhelmed by a concrete cage of skyscrapers. It was frankly depressing when you had those rare moments of self-realization.

So, in an attempt to get a breath of fresh air one morning, you decide to visit the flower shop just a block from your work. The bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter, suddenly surrounded by a sea of beautiful flower arrangements kept in pristine condition. In the back stood the young owner, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence as he focused on his next bouquet behind the counter.

You couldn’t believe the level of detail and craftsmanship in each display, traveling slowly through the store in wonder. Perhaps it is what kept people coming back to this place despite his cold demeanor. He is an artist, there’s no doubt about it.

The sound of wrinkling plastic interrupted the young man’s work as you approached the register, setting down a small arrangement of daises in front of him. He grunted, giving you a slightly annoyed glare, quickly ringing up your purchase.

“It’s $10, even,” he says blandly, already looking back at his little flower project on the workbench impatiently.

You oblige without a word, awkwardly glancing around and silently noting his name badge which read ‘Kuni.’

“Your receipt,” he snatches the small paper and hands it to you.

“Thanks, Kuni. Have a good one,” you attempt to break the ice, but the young man has already turned his back to you to continue putting together his next artwork. A bit dejected, you leave with the daisies in hand. Maybe that was stupid.

You kept the tiny bouquet of daisies on your desk at work. Just having a bit of greenery was enough to lift your spirits when the day would take a turn for the worse. They were so delicate and cute, it had you tempted to visit the flower shop again. It was on the way to work anyway, why not?

At least, that was your excuse. I mean, you couldn’t deny that the young florist was easy on the eyes, despite his thorns.

Slowly but surely, you developed a new morning routine. You had become a familiar face to Kuni, the grumpy and closed-off flower shop owner. Around 7:30am, you’d walk into his humble store with a coffee in hand from the cafe next door, greeting him with a small “good morning.” You’d often casually wander around the store, asking about flower species or meanings to his arrangements.

It took awhile before Kuni was willing to indulge much in conversation. Typical responses came in the form of an eye roll, a scoff, or quips about having something better to do under his breath. Though, if you asked the right question, Kuni would occasionally come around the counter to help.

You swear it was like watching a flower bloom in real time with the way Kuni’s entire expression melted softly when he spoke about his arrangements. What once was but a shy sprout became a beautiful swirl of petals, full of life.

Kuni would reach beside you, awkwardly brushing his arm or his chest against you on accident. He would take the bouquet you were curious about and present it to you with subdued pride, caressing the blossoms. Colors, shapes, lengths, petals, ribbons—everything had significance and Kuni loved to teach you the nuances of his passion.

The days were beginning to feel like they pass by quicker. You woke up with a new reason to roll out of bed, lured by the taste of your usual miel coffee and the sweet aroma of flowers.

The chimes of the doorbell eventually had Kuni slightly jumping out of skin when you strolled through, a faint flush of color on his cheeks. His gaze would follow you intently from the corner of his eye, a small smile adorning his lips.

As an artist, he possessed an incredible attention to detail, picking up on your name that was scribbled on the side of your coffee cup; or how you carefully waded through the rows and rows endless flowers with curiosity crinkled on your cute brows. He discovered that your favorite color is blue. You like cream but not sugar. You love rainy days. You avert your eyes before saying hi.

Kuni soon found himself keeping note of these little details in his small notepad, though you simply thought he was scribbling business to-do’s.

Every other week or so, you’d need a new set of flowers for your desk and Kuni was content to offer his personal favorites. He quite enjoyed these mornings with you, as other customers typically visited around lunch or after 5pm to gift flowers to their spouses or loved ones. He’d never openly admit how you managed to melt his cold exterior and warm his heart as time passed.

You learned more about each other as the seasons changed and naturally became good friends. You were more than a regular to him. He found himself interested in hearing you talk about your day. Tell him about that terrible work meeting or the prank your coworker pulled on your boss. Who are your friends? Do you have a pet at home? Anyone significant in your life?

Kuni wanted to know everything about you.

There came one day that you approached him with a mischievous smirk on your face. He eyed you suspiciously, taking off his gloves and folding his arms over his apron. You had trouble written all over your face.

“Morning, Kuni,” you approached the counter immediately, interlacing your fingers together around your coffee cup.

Something is definitely up with you. He raises an eyebrow, finding your unusual mood to be amusing. “I have a feeling you have something to say.”

“Indeed I do,” you couldn’t help yourself, grinning widely with excitement brimming in your eyes. You looked like you were going to burst from laughter. “I need your expert opinion.”

On cue, he rolls his eyes at your adorable antics. “Well? Out with it.”

“I want a tattoo,” you confess, the enthusiasm you were feeling a moment ago now shifting into embarrassment for some reason. You had worked up the courage all night to ask for Kuni’s advice, imagining a hundred different ways it could possibly go. It was too late to take it back now.

“A tattoo? You’d be the last person I’d expect to want something like that,” Kuni deadpans with a hint of confusion and condescension. “Why do you need my opinion? I think you look just fine without one.”

It’s not that he disliked tattoos. The florist simply appreciated your natural beauty, and didn’t want you to regret permanently marking your body. It seems you weren’t entirely as incorruptible as he initially thought.

“I just want to try something new,” you sigh, pursing your lips to express your dissatisfaction. You held your breath, tapping on the side of your coffee cup before adding, “I’m plain. And boring. I don’t even have a piercing.”

Kuni frowned. He had no idea where this self-loathing behavior was coming from, but he was determined to snuff out any reservations you had about yourself. “You’re pretty just the way you are, (Y/N).”

You refuse to accept that answer, shaking your head. “C‘mon, you don’t think I’d look cute with a small tattoo? Something tasteful. Not even a flower tattoo?”

“I mean—it’s hard to imagine you with any tattoos,” he replied before finally relenting his distaste with a noncommittal shrug. “But I suppose, if anything, a flower could only make your skin lovelier.”

His mind was already turning its gears, wondering what spurred this sudden desire to change. He lamented the idea of you being unhappy with yourself. If this is what would make you smile again, then Kuni resolved to support you as any friend should.

“Good, because I figured my favorite florist could pick out a flower for me,” your eyes sparkled playfully, waiting for his reaction.

Putting his hand on his forehead, Kuni huffs and slowly runs his palm down his face as if he is annoyed. Truthfully, he was hoping to wipe the warmth that quickly flooded his cheeks completely off. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him a flustered mess over you.

He runs a free hand through his hair, sighing softly. “Why not roses? Everyone does that.”

Your bottom lip poked out in a pout at his answer. This isn’t the response you expected at all. You didn’t understand him sometimes. Groaning, you dramatically tilt your head in momentary frustration and take his hand in yours, pleadingly.

“Really, Kuni? That’s the most cliché shit ever,” you grumble, though it’s more like a whine as you give him puppy eyes. “I’m being serious. What comes to mind when you think of me?”

The question is innocent enough, but feels like a punch to his gut—stealing the breath right from his lungs. If only you knew what you were asking of him.

Every day he imagines you walking through the door of his flower shop, a pretty smile on your face and a cup of black tea in your hand just for him. He would thank you softly and take your cheek in his warm palm, leaning in to kiss you before the store opens. His fingers would trail down your neck, his thumb nudging your head to the side to give him easier access to that sensitive spot on your neck, lips parting and ready to taste the desire on your skin.

He had to stop himself.

“What about… peonies? It blooms beautifully—a huge blossom with a strong, sweet fragrance.” The florist clears his throat after a brief pause, nervously searching your expression. If you were keen, you’d catch the tips of his ears burning bright pink. “An unmistakable flower that can convey so much… in less than a few words.”

Kuni happens to pull a red peony from the flowers he has scattered on his workbench for his upcoming arrangement, hesitating for a second before extending it sheepishly to you. You’re too caught up in the moment to notice how the dainty flower trembles slightly in his fingertips.

It’s perfect. You bring the peony to your nose, eyelashes fluttering up at Kuni appreciatively. He swears his heart skips a beat.

“I love it,” you exhale, offering the peony back to him. You feel invigorated, elated even, to have found a subject for your first tattoo. It had to be something meaningful, and naturally your first thought was Kuni. “Thank you, I promise to stop by to show you when it’s done.”

Before the lovestruck florist could say a word, you were running out the door, bells chiming at your departure. He held the red peony to his nose, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

It had been a few days since you stopped by, which was unusual.

Kuni tried not to dwell on it. You were a busy person and, of course, had your own life outside of him. He shouldn’t be upset that you suddenly ghosted him, yet he can sense a dreadful feeling crawling into his heart.

The doorbell rings, but the young flower shop owner doesn’t bother to see who entered. Of the hundreds of people who have visited his store in the time that you’ve been gone, none of them were you.

He turns to the counter to water a few flowers, his gaze flickering to the customer, and he can’t stop the way his jaw slowly drops. Standing a few feet away at his newest bouquet display is you all dolled up in a pretty little sundress that stops at your mid-thigh and hugs your figure nicely.

Most notably, your dress has an open back which reveals a plethora of peonies inked down the curve of your spine in an elegant and minimalist design. It’s utterly gorgeous.

“H-hey,” Kuni speaks up, sounding lost as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. His expression was beyond adorable, simply starstruck.

You glanced at the florist from over your shoulder, snickering since he accidentally let his guard slip more than usual. You cover your mouth, giggling at him, “Kuni, I think you’re overwatering the flowers.”

“Shit,” he curses to himself, immediately putting down the small water can on the counter with a light splash. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to drain the pot. “Where the hell have you been, by the way?”

“I took some time off work, sorry,” you admit, but really you were more interested in showing off the final product of your new tattoo. You happily twirl around in your tiny sundress and strike a goofy pose, the frilly ends spinning hypnotically around your upper thighs. “So…?”

All of Kuni’s irritation with his embarrassing mishap washes away as he watches you excitedly spin around, flaunting your curves and the work of art now inked on your back. He smirks and mutters quietly, “I think I like peonies a whole lot more now.”

You brush your hair to the side so he can see the full tattoo. “Haha, come look at it then!”

His heart fluttered, quickly taking off his dirty gardener’s gloves to take a closer look. Every step towards you made his mind race and his breath a little shallow, you were stunning if he was being completely honest. He felt even more attracted to you with such an amazing work of art spanning your back, and to top it off—he was your inspiration—just as you were secretly his muse.

Without thinking, the florist’s fingertips lightly brush your spine in silent admiration. You immediately tense and gasp at the unexpected contact.

He snaps out of his thoughts and recoils in horror. “Sorry, sorry. I-I wasn’t… I, uh…”

You laugh and smile in understanding. “It’s fine. You surprised me is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet, he was still compelled to continue tracing the contours of the raven-colored ink over the surface of your soft skin. You said it was fine. You were okay with it. He was overthinking it, right?

“C-can I ask why, of all people, you wanted me to pick your first tattoo?” Kuni was still trying to make sense of everything in his head. He was secretly terrified that he was projecting his own feelings onto you, and masked it behind a playful smile of disbelief.

“Well,” you brushed your hair back over your shoulders and finally turned to face him. Your sundress was just as cute in the front, Kuni smiles to himself. A faint blush dusts your precious little cheeks. “I think I’ve adopted your affinity for flowers. Saying everything while saying nothing at all... it’s poetic, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to get a tattoo just for me,” Kuni joked to make light of the situation, throwing in a faint grunt of disapproval and an eye roll. He was sure you picked a flower just to appease him since he was originally against the idea.

In reality, he was more than touched by your thoughtfulness.

There was a peculiar glint in your expression that the florist couldn’t quite place. He felt drawn in. You took a petal from the newest bouquet on display between your index and thumb, caressing the soft blossom.

“I mean, your flower arrangements are always so beautiful, and you handle them with so much care,” you trail off, staring at the bouquet with an indiscernible emotion. Then, in a whisper followed by a smile, you continue, “Maybe I was jealous.”

His gut reaction is to chuckle to hide his reddened face. He didn’t know what to think of it. Surely you were joking.

“Jealous, huh?” Kuni repeats with amusement lining the smirk slowly spreading across his face. “That I touch these flowers with more care than… say, touching you? Is that it?”

However, instead of laughing along, you blush a deeper shade of crimson that rivals his own and to boot, you take your lower lip between your teeth. “S-so you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he scoffs, brushing off your reaction as if you didn’t just confess to wanting his touch. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you genuinely had an interest in him. He was in denial, rationalizing every detail in the back of his mind. Where this was going, he had no clue.

As he continued to wage this internal war with himself, attempting to play a kind of 4-D chess to stay a step ahead of you, he neglected the most obvious conclusion. “Y-you really want me to…?”

Poor Kuni had let his mind run in circles this whole time and he was made the fool. You were trying to flirt with him.

You glance to the door of the flower shop, which sported a cute homemade sign that read ‘Come In, We’re Open!’ from the outside. Shifting uncomfortably, you keep your thighs closed tight. That glimmer in your eyes was no longer cloudy but clear as day to the florist—lustful—and he quite liked the way it reflected in your watercolor irises.

A small chuckle escapes your lips, the redness in your cheeks never leaving. You hoped that Kuni could read between the lines. “D-do you take custom orders? Because, I actually, uh, have a special flower I want you to use.”

“Oh?” he knew exactly what you were asking now, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming rate. The tension between your bodies is palpable at this point, as his fingers still hover over your back where he had touched you accidentally. “You know, I’d like to think I’m well-acquainted with many flower species, but… maybe you could enlighten me.”

He wanted you, truly. But part of Kuni had reservations about going this fast.

His attention snapped to you when he felt your fingers on his chest, fiddling with the flower pinned to his apron. Your voice softened and sounded sweet as honey, “You are the florist. I trust that you are a capable man, Kuni.”

“Well, I-I suppose I’d want to give this my utmost attention,” he begins, the back of his fingers graze your cheek down to your jaw, locking eyes with you. This is the stuff fantasies are made of, and here you are batting your pretty eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t mind closing the shop just for you.”

Amid the noise and bustle of the city, the people passing the storefront were none the wiser to the windows of the flower shop, curtains drawn to prevent any prying eyes. The door was locked shut, unusual for this time of day, but no customers would be stopping by any time soon. A sign hung in the window of the door reading ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’

Even the lights were off, bathing the assortment of embellished bouquet displays in darkness. Near the florist’s workbench in the back of the store, a single lamp cast a warm ray over his newest obsession spread nice and ready for him. A pair of electrifying purple eyes drifted down his favorite fascination, admiring his work thus far—a smattering of hickeys trailing down your bare body. Your beautiful skin was his willing canvas.

The weight of Kuni’s gaze had your cunt twitch around nothingness in anticipation. Your only consolation lied behind your eyelids, edging yourself with the sweet delusion of his pulsing cock grazing your clit before guiding it to your desperate hole. Archons, you could almost envision how it would feel for his tip to venture across every ridge of your walls for the first time.

You needed it, craved it. No, you ached for it—as if you were missing a part of your soul that would make you whole.

Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips brushing on your supple thighs. How he had unraveled you out of every layer of clothing yet never set his sights on your pretty pussy was unfathomable. Art cannot be rushed, after all.

Kuni was taking his sweet time to memorialize the texture of your skin on his, to taste and devour you slowly in every possible sense. His imagination was the limit, and for now he was blissfully chasing your sensual little noises like a dream on the clouds of your lips.

His warm, muscular hand traveled across the round curve of your hip, gripping the plump flesh in reverence, and then snaked it up your back. You whimpered into his mouth as his soft tongue teased yours. He smiled, knowing that deep down you were beginning to reach your breaking point.

Kuni’s voice was smooth and inviting, “Mm, (Y/N), you know why I chose peonies?”

With each vertebrae the pads of his fingers discovered, tracing your tattoo, your spine arched just a little more into his toned chest. The corners of his mouth turn up into an adoring smile, long eyelashes framing the depth of the devotion imprinted in his expression. Your occasional soft gasps of need urged him to capture your lips in a chaste kiss intermittently.

“Your smile… reminds me of yellow peonies. Of new beginnings, every morning,” Kuni chuckles quietly to himself between kisses, intertwining his other hand in your hair. His thumb coaxes your jaw to open for him further, swirling his tongue with yours before rewarding you with the heavenly sensation of his lips once more.

“And in your absence,” he continues, taking your lower lip between his teeth to emphasize the emotions behind his words. “Like a soft pink peony, I realize how much I’m missing without you.”

“Mm, miss you too,” you lean into the florist’s mouth as he tries to pull away, not yet ready to part. He obliged with a smug exhale through his nose, hot breath tickling your lips as he nuzzles you. The atmosphere was thick with temptation, both of you closing your eyes to relish in the tension—such satisfaction feels even better when it’s just out of reach.

“When you walk through that door, you’re more beautiful than the day before… as lovely as a white peony,” Kuni let his hand fall from your hair to your collarbone, reminding you of the love bites he marked you with in a fit of passion earlier.

Licking his lips, the indigo-haired florist embarked to kiss every single inch of your body leading to the delectable curve of your breasts. As he neared your aerola, he couldn’t help but give it an affectionate lick and gentle suck, smirking when your nipple hardened involuntarily.

You whimper again, squeezing your thighs together. However, Kuni had planted himself firmly between your legs where you sat on the counter, purposely pulling back to push the bulge of his erection onto your core to remind you of your place. Don’t you dare keep your petals a secret.

“I bet you didn’t even know,” he almost scoffs, pinching your nipple as punishment and studying the squeeze of your eyelids in desperation. “That many of my arrangements were made in the image of you… with all those hot pink peonies.”

It’s not long before Kuni brings his lips back to your breasts, addicted to the sound of your soft pants. He sneaks his way down your abdomen, dragging his wet tongue along the alluring stretch towards your pelvis in sloppy kisses. As he finds himself kneeled in front of you, suddenly he hooks your knees around his shoulders to pull your pretty flower to his attention, earning a yelp from you.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Before you can react, Kuni is already diving his mouth between your soft thighs. You immediately dig your fingers into his purple locks, grabbing a fistful to temper his enthusiasm. “K-Kuni!”

The florist pauses, lust-riddled eyes flickering seductively up to you with bated breath. The way his eyebrow quirks up at you exudes a new kind of confidence you had never seen on him before, causing your protests to slowly die in your throat. “What? Don’t trust a professional?”

Kuni’s expression is downright carnal, flicking his tongue out at you teasingly. Your grip on his hair loosens, though he catches the pout of your lips. “I-I trust you.”

“Good, baby,” he exhales, wasting no time in closing the gap to your flower. “Because I’m about to show you the meaning of my favorite color peony.”

You attempt to relax as he nudges his nose between your folds, slowly gliding his tongue over your pussy. It’s an experimental first taste of paradise, one that evokes an erotic sigh of pleasure from you. Kuni hums in contentment against your clit, his humid breath tickling every crevice of your delicious cunt.

Circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, Kuni hangs on to every luscious moan and silent plea for more that spills from you. It spurs him to lick your core eagerly, occasionally taking your outer labia between his lips and briefly but gently sucking it in a wet kiss.

“F-fuck,” you mumble in a hot whine, running both of your hands through the florist’s hair to see how his eyebrows knit together prettily. He’s so focused on pleasing you, slurping the intoxicating concoction that is your essence and his saliva dribbling down his chin. It was so tantalizing, it had you bucking your hips into his face.

Kuni abruptly grabbed your sides to steady himself, and grunted lowly in response. He flatly licked your folds, then moving to suckle your clit. Your groans were making him so utterly taken with you, sliding a hand back down in his boxers to smear precum over the throbbing tip of his erection and fist his length.

All he could do is mutter sweet nothings into the wet cavern of your pussy, praising you for tasting so divine and even letting him please you like this. He traces your folds sensually, eventually pushing his tongue deeper into your plush walls. The sensation is more than enough to have you a whimpering mess, tugging Kuni’s head closer and fucking your cunt onto his tongue.

Your thighs tighten around the florist’s head, but he honestly doesn’t mind if he passes out from a lack of oxygen. In fact, Kuni buries his tongue even further into you, if possible, while his nose teases your aching clit. All of it was worth hearing you beg for him to make you cum.

“O-oh my fucking god, mm,” you whisper, voice dripping with desire. “Y-yes, yes, yes… ‘m so close.”

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking and chuckling into your cunt while salacious groans of his own pour from his lips. Without warning, Kuni rips himself away and wipes his face, leveling his cock with your sopping entrance and nestling just the tip in. You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of your climax as it was replaced with the unexpected girth of his length, your hole fluttering instantaneously.

“Aghhh, goddamnit,” he curses under his breath, verging on a growl. You weren’t used to this side of him, but every surprise had you wanting to see more. He slams his hands on the table on either side of you, lavender eyes glued to the hypnotic spasm of your lovely pussy around his cock. “I can’t believe you’re so tight—just for me.”

“Please,” you mewl, legs wrapped his hips to slowly pull the florist closer and bury his cock just an inch further. The hazy glint in your irises said everything. You swallow thickly, “I need you so bad, Kuni.”

He entangled himself in you, inhaling your scent as he held you tightly by the waist and bottomed out inside of your heavenly walls. Oh, you were simply in a state of breathless ecstasy, melting into his arms. The feeling of fullness within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and Kuni’s first real thrust had your legs shaking.

It wasn’t enough. How could he be satisfied without knowing his cock kissed your cervix and bred you nicely?

Nuzzling into your neck, Kuni forced you to the edge of the counter by your ass, giving him better access to relentlessly pound that pretty pussy of yours. You took the hint and laying down on your back submissively, resting your ankles on his shoulders. The florist didn’t dare stop his movements, growing more and more drunk on the mesmerizing sound of your pussy taking him so well.

His hand groped at the bouncing flesh of your breasts. “Archons, (Y/N), why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Kuni’s head leaned onto your left calf, eyes trained only on you in a loving gaze, before turning to kiss your leg as he leisurely fucked you. His hand roamed south of your breasts and planted his thumb on your clit in tight circles, gripping your leg harder against his chest to keep you in place. He wasn’t about to let you squirm away from the pleasure he’s so kindly giving you.

At this point, you were beyond trying to keep your composure. Slutty groans of euphoria filled the humble little shop with every slap of your skin on his. He had you begging, pleading in hot tears for your release. Kuni had repeatedly tempted, teased, and edged you beyond comprehension.

Now here you were yearning for your climax like a whore.

“Ah, fuck, hah… yes, please, please…!” you panted, loving the way Kuni was using you like his perfect little cocksleeve. He looked so sexy with sweat on his brow and his bangs messily sticking to his forehead, the raw girth of his cock stretching you so good with each thrust. Frankly, you were reduced to incoherent babbling—coaxing the peak of both your climaxes. “Mm, so, so good. Gonna… gonna cum, I-I…”

“Mhmm, it’s okay, yeah… ‘m gonna fucking cum all in you,” Kuni frantically nods, sucking in a sharp breath and trembling all over as he cums simultaneously with you. He keeps his cock fully sheathed in your pulsating pussy, a myriad of praises and curses flow freely between the both of you. “Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Nnghh, yes,” you replied with guttural enthusiasm, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your orgasm washes away. “I fucking love you.”

Kuni is barely able to support you in the aftershock of that mind-breaking pleasure, clutching you to his chest and breathing wildly. Whether it was the sex talking or not, he didn’t care. He had you in this moment and would never let go, he vowed.

The florist’s eyes flickered to a bouquet of red peonies sitting on his workbench with a soft smile.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

#posting 2 fics in 2 days bc i’m actually crazy lmao🤪🥰#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fatui #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

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catiuskaa · 4 months

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silly little promises.

SUMMARY: unspoken promises to stay away from your brother’s best friend might work for some, but not when kim seungmin is said man.

WC: 3.1k

CW: mentions of smoking weed, shotgunning, mentions of (fake)enemies to lovers?, slight pain kink?, use of “puppy, darling, beautiful, master”, fingering (f rec.), protected piv sex, (slight meanie?) hard!dom!seungmin, + artistic liberties regarding use of cursive because yes, and I think that’s all, folks!

PAIRING! smoker!seungmin x reader

[☆★🚭★☆]

Kisses in New Year meant nothing.

You wouldn’t have said this a month ago. Not in a chance, considering you and your loving boyfriend were stepping together into 2024.

Or. Well. You were going to.

Because when you turned around to face your boyfriend in midnight, he wasn’t there. You thought he was in his apartment, resting with a cold.

Oh, no.

He was a couple people behind you.

With someone else.

“Well, if it isn’t the queen of the party.” A low voice greeted cheekily.

You shoulders tensed up slowly.

“You shouldn’t smoke, you know.” You snickered, smiling politely at the silhouette that was leaning against the fence in the terrace.

That sentence you said was as empty as words could be.

Years after years, as someone who wasn’t really close to their family, the only moment you saw each of your close relatives was in events, like weddings and funerals. Or, in this case, New Years. Yet, for some reason, Kim Seungmin could —and would— always tag along.

Always next to your brother, Felix and him were attached to the hip. And, despite the fact that you had known him ever since you had memory, you needed that sentence, because it would secure a reaction in him.

He would roll his eyes. Like how he had done just now.

And usually, he would do that and go fetch your brother, dropping the ciggarette in the terrace of his shared appartment, stepping on it, staining the stone just slightly each time.

“Well, my grandmother got to live a hundred years.”

Huh? Your eyebrows shot up, almost innocently.

You fidgeted with your rings, hands gripping the fence in the terrace. As a seven-store building, you thought maybe you could focus on the small-looking mundane views.

Maybe like that, he’d go.

But he wasn’t leaving. He dared to get closer, in fact. And that shouldn’t be happening. You bit your lip. You needed to remember the one promise you had intended to keep.

Then your breath hitched, not only because his slender fingers brushed against your cheek, but because you remembered who you had promised that to. To that cheater ex-boyfriend of yours. And, cigarette in between his lips, pink and soft to the eye, Seungmin tucked a stray hair behind your ear, and you grasped the fence with force, your knuckles white.

“I can’t trust a man like that.” Your ex had said long ago, struggling to justify himself as to why you shouldn’t get too close to Seungmin. “He looks at you… differently.”

“You know how she did that? How she got to live up to a hundred?” The man in question asked in a low voice, tempting you to go forward, to break the unspoken promise of you not going close to each other.

“Smoking?” You muttered humourlessly, licking your lips, staring at his.

Seungmin snorted. “Oh, no, puppy.” Your entire body shivered. Blinking, slowly, not daring to believe what was happening before your eyes.

But it was real. And you knew it because Seungmin suddenly grasped your cheeks with one hand.

“Minding her own damn business.” He smirked, blowing the smoke on your face.

You started coughing, and hesitated as if to push him away and leave, slam the door close and celebrate New Year somewhere else instead of a party filled with friends of others.

“But I think,” he smiled slyly, bringing you back from your thoughts as he licked the small piercing in his lip. “I think you should try it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, your mind wandering away. Would the piercing be cold? How would it feel on his lips?

How would it feel against yours?

“S-smoking?” You let out in a huff, feeling heat creep up your body. He nodded.

“But…” doubt tinted his tone, his hand not leaving your chin, the grip uncomfortable at first but now relaxing against your skin.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult to break that old promise.

Not when Kim Seungmin was related. And not when what you had promised meant not getting… acquainted with him.

After all, he had to make you regret it, right?

“Problem is… I only have this one.” He stated, waving the lit cigarette in his hand. “Unless… you don’t mind sharing.”

He had to make you regret that, for once, you had chosen that sad excuse of a man over him.

Your mind started to turn fuzzy, feeling Seungmin’s lean figure slowly cage you against the fence, his free hand sneakily heading to your waist, stroking down ever-so-slowly to your hip.

Biting your lip, you forced yourself to stop looking at his face, and threatened to burn marks on the necklace that creeped from between the top buttons of his black shirt.

Your cheeks heated up again.

“So, what’s it gonna be, huh?” He scoffed funnily, voice tinted with mockery. “Can a goody-two-shoes like you handle—“

But he stopped talking, because you took the cigarette from his hand and inhaled, siren eyes locked on his, who widened at the sight of you, eyebrows shot up, his features masking contentment.

He liked where this was going. He liked that you had broken the promise. He liked it when he heard that you had slapped your ex in front of everyone in the crowd. He liked how, right then and there, you grasped his face, your nails pressing crescent moons on his cheeks. Painful, but oh, so good.

And then, his breath tasted familiar. In the midst of the smoke you were passing to him, the mix of flavours crossing one mouth to another, exhaling and inhaling.

You backed off after, but he let out a soft grunt.

“Let me do that right.” Seungmin gulped messily, eyes red.

As if shotgunning hadn’t been enough, his right hand cradled your face, his left pushing himself tightly against you. His fingers traced the contour of your jaw, your breaths synchronized.

“Do it.” You panted, the effects of the certainly-not-tobacco substance reeling in your body, taking them in, making you light-headed. “Please, Seungmin, I—”

Your lips met in a fiery embrace, a collision of longing and intensity. It didn’t start with a tender exploration, but rather a fervent exchange of passion. Time seemed to stand still as both of you lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss, all teeth and tongues.

“Just shut up.” He whispered against your lips. “God, just— fuck.”

Heated sighs escaped between kisses, and every touch sent shivers down your spine as Seungmin’s hands roamed freely over your body, gropping and touching to his heart’s content. His cold hands passed underneath your shirt and you whimpered.

“Ah! S-shit, Seungmin!” You shivered against him, trying to quiet your gasps.

He smirked, his other hand grabbing your cheeks and his thumb stroking your red, swollen and so fucking kissable lips.

“Wait, puppy.” He took the cigarette from your hand, took a draw and threw it to the ground, stepping on it lazily.

The smoke came out of his mouth slowly. “Now, I want you to listen closely.” He started. Your lack of response triggered a tug to your bra, and he slapped it back without hesitation, only a mean smile on his features. You whined, nuzziling your face on his neck, and he licked his lips, enjoying himself.

“Are you listening?” Seungmin snickered.

“Y-yes!” You muttered on his neck.

His cold hand trailed soothing patterns on your back, making you squirm on his grasp. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by his antics.

“Yes, what?”

Slowly you stepped back to look at him, his eyes dark with lust and red due to the weed.

You smiled inocently. “Yes, sir?”

He blushed, but slowly shook his head.

“It’s master for you, puppy.” He kissed you again, unable to resist it for longer. “Let’s get the hell out of this place.”

You accept his outstreched hand without hesitation, a contact that made you crave whatever he was thinking at that moment.

Your heels were not at all helpful to take you upstairs, but Seungmin’s kind heart was there to smile at you as his hands took place in the curve of your waist to help you get up safetly. The silk of your dress felt soft under his slender fingers, your body warm to the touch. Every step you took made your hair swish in front of him and the strong scent of your shampoo invaded him completely, wanting to sink his face in and fall asleep.

It was the first time you were able to get a propper look of Seungmin’s room in his shared apartment with your brother. You had seen the door left ajar before, but never dared to cross, keeping your promise in mind.

“I don’t mind if you snoop, you know.” He chuckled next to your ear.

A sudden burst of attitude came right through you when you smirked, turning around to face him, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair.

Fuck that promise.

“I don’t need to snoop. I can always come back for that.”

Seungmin couldn’t help but smirk, moving and pushing you against the door, locking it behind you. He pressed his hands against it, on either side of your head, and leaned down slightly, towering you even with your heels on.

You couldn’t help but gulp, and Seungmin was tempted to press his mouth against your neck just to tease you after feeling your pulse hammering against his lips.

He was not going to kiss you.

Seungmin decided that, against his first intentions, watching you fight yourself was the hottest thing he had the pleasure to view that whole night, your cheeks in a deep shade of red, thighs squeezed together.

He didn’t really need to start anything. Only if you chose to, you would kiss him. And, even if you didn’t, you’d surely come back for more anyways.

Few people could resist Seungmin, and you were certainly not part of that group.

Your breathing deepened when he leaned forward, letting his mouth linger near the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

“You never hated me like you pretended, did you, darling?” He was mocking you, and he so knew it. “Keep in mind— I still can make you call me master. Your silly little promises won’t make me stay too far, puppy.”

He was trying to make you beg for it, for him, for anything, anything that Seungmin could do for you to make you feel better, as he kept making the heat that run through your body take control.

But Seungmin needed to get his revenge.

After all, he had been pinning over you for ages now. It was only fair you had to ask for it nicely, right?

“Is this a joke?”

The muttered question grazed past your lips, and it look like it surprised you just as much as it surprised him.

“I don’t joke about consent, dear.” Seungmin’s serious tone mades concentrating a much more difficult task. Not when his messy hair looked so good, and certainly not with those cute flushed cheeks of his.

For a lack of an answer —at this point it wasn’t about if it was better, because the man had almost rendered you speechless— you bit your lip, now soft doe eyes staring at him from below.

“You know what will happen.” His voice was soft and enticing, tempting you to go forward. “You just have to kiss me, hmm?” He snickered, his hum vibrating all through your body.

Seungmin smirked, pressing his body slightly closer, slotting his leg in between yours, setting his thigh just right.

Just a bit more.

“Say that you want it,” he whispered. “Master can fuck you so good once you do it, yeah? Don’t you want that, puppy?”

The sudden tug at the collar of his shirt and the force that you pulled him towards you with almost made Seungmin lose his mind, his thoughts soaked in a puddle of arousal, much like the one you were feeling that kept growing inside you.

Your lips crashed together, giving in to a craving that had been building up for what seemed likeforever. It wasn't just a kiss; it was like a dam breaking, releasing a flood of emotions that had been held back for too damn long.

The urgency was wild, like you couldn't get enough of each other. Seungmin’s mouth moved hungrily, as if trying to make up for all the times he'd missed out on this.

Your hands traveled to the rim of his shirt, but he whined, separating his lips off you. “N-no, wait.” He gasped, running out of air and not giving any fucks about it.

You had ruined him for good.

“Bed. Now.” He panted at you, your eyes as blown out as his. “You’re gonna be the death of me, puppy.”

Seungmin licked the piercing on his lip, as he took off his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading. His breath hitched and he buckled his hips unconciously when you sat on his lap, rolling your hips teasingly.

He tutted at you. With a mean smile, he grabbed you by your waist and softly pushed you against the soft fabric of his bed covers. Standing on his knees, he unbuckled his belt, and you happily oogled at his toned body. He wasn’t shredded, but there was no need when all you wanted to do was mark him up in kisses regardless.

You didn’t realize he had taken all his clothes off, left with his boxer briefs, only noticed it after he let his body slot in between your legs, his forearms at the sides of your face so his weight wouldn’t crush you completely.

“Seungmin…”

He chuckled, your hands touring up his lean chest, reaching the nape of his neck.

“So demanding.” His characteristic teasing tone was back, but completely different at the same time. “Say, if I snuck my hand under that beautiful dress of yours,” he mentioned temptingly, enticingly grinding his hips against yours, “how wet would I find you, puppy?”

So fucking wet. So much, in fact, that you didn’t dare to say. Disgustingly so. You let out a trembling sigh, yearning for the man before you to inch even closer, to eat the space between both of you and make it dissapear.

In a swift motion, Seungmin took your dress off and discarded it, not bothering if it would be easy to find later on. In fact, he thought as his stare ate you alive, that he wouldn’t mind if you never found it again.

He rocked against your centre, just once, ripping a pained whimper out of you.

“Tell master what you want, puppy.” His jaw hardened, reeling in the bubbling emotions that ran through him. “Tell me what’s okay for me to do.”

Seungmin’s thumb grazed the skin of your breast, eliciting a deep moan out of you.

“That’s it, puppy. So good— so good for me.” He gulped, filled with lust and craving.

He took your nipple between his slender fingers and pulled softly.

You let out an unrestrained whimper. Loud. Almost obnouxiously so, and quickly brought your hand over your mouth, cheeks reddening in embarrassment and arousal. Seungmin chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your blushing cheek.

“Keep making those pretty sounds for me. Let everyone hear. Let them hear how good your master makes you feel.”

Seungmin’s hold on your hip tightened, making you aware of his hand there, his other hand continuing further down a similar path, finally reaching your wet folds, pressing just for an instant and then gliding down slowly.

Your lips parted as a moan came out. You couldn’t remember feeling so turned on by someone— ever.

He let out a pleased grunt, his hand leaving your core as his eyes locked with yours just so you’d see how he licked your arousal from his fingers, humming with a smirk.

“All of this for me?” He mocked in a deep voice, much deeper than any instance you had ever heard him.

Unable to form any coherent thoughts in your head aside from the chant that numbed your head—Seungmin, more, Seungmin, mine, Seungmin, master,— he didn’t lose anymore time, his fingers sliding inside of you in a swift motion, making you moan at the blissful sensation of finally being somewhat full, also making you realize that only his fingers wouldn’t be enough for the night.

“Hear that, puppy? Those sticky sweet sounds… that’s all you.” Seungmin kept thrusting inside, adding a second finger and bringing a warm sensation that started unravelling itself, as if it was going to crack you wide open. “All drenched for me, fuck.”

After what could’ve been a few minutes, only hearing your own moans and whines, backed my Seungmin’s pleased pants and the sound of your arousal as he scissored you open, he took his hand away from you.

“Open up.” It wasn’t a question, and it made you whine against his fingers when he shoved them in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. “So fucking delicious, my little puppy.”

So primal, so basic, so hot.

He slid down his underwear just enough so his length sprang free.

“Would love to feel those lips of yours around my cock, but we’ll leave that for the next time.”

He planted a lingering kiss on your lips and a second one on your forehead as he fetched a condom and skillfully rolled it down his length.

He stared at you, going back to his place between your thighs.

“Words, puppy.” He demanded.

You almost choked in your spit.

“F-fuck, S-seungmin, I—“ you moaned as he went crazy, claming your breasts, neck, collarbone, marking you with hard-to-cover-up hickeys. You were his, and it was now as real as it could get, his fingers and tongue outlining your body, memorizing every nook and cranny.

He panted. “Don’t stop talking.”

“S-shit. Yes. Yes, fuck, please. S-seungmin.” You bit your lip, squirming in your place. “I-inside.”

He snickered against your skin.

“Say that like you mean it.”

His hips rocked against your core, pushing his length between your legs, the tip sliding down with every sway of his body until reaching my entrance.

“M-master.” You could’ve sworn you would cry. “Please.”

With a kiss below your ear, Seungmin finally pressed into you, slowly, and it made you moan loudly, the feeling of his cock sliding inside of you in a deep thrust, filling you completely.

“We’re in for a long night, puppy.” Seungmin whined, almost moaning, and it was delicious. “F-fuck…”

He kissed you fiercily, his lips making your body burn underneath him.

“Now, keep moaning how good your master makes you feel.”

~Kats, who wanted to post this before going crazy with overdue homework and future exams! (HELP!)

aside from my human issues, lol, i was thinkinggg should I open a taglist or smth? js sayin lololol

Almost forgot! Tagging @dumplingsjinson bc their (outstanding, gorgeous) prompts helped me out, so quick, go check them out! hehe<3

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quintinh43 · 1 month

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Throwing away their piles of tissues when they have a cold.

With Nico hischier!!

Thank you for requesting 🥰 I know yall probably wanted to see nico taking care of reader, but as yall know I'm a slut for reader taking care of the boys and this just felt so perfect.

Nico was arguably the most stubborn mother fucker you had ever have the pleasure of meeting in your entire damn life. He was strong and kind and loving. He prioratized everyone before himself. Whether it be you, his family, his team, or a random fucking stranger on the street.

Which is how he ended up with the fucking plague. (It wasn't the plague, but your dramatics tended to get the better of you when you were mad at your boyfriend.)

"Nico Hischier, get your ass back in bed before I douse you with chloroform," you threatened, pushing his chest firmly back towards the bedroom.

"I'm fine, schatz-" he was cut off by a coughing fit that had him doubling over. Your demeanor did a complete 180° as you stood beside him, rubbing his back soothingly and muttering sweet words.

"Seriously nico, my love," you say, cupping his face between both hands after his coughing fit had passed, "you need rest,"

"But the team-"

"The team will be fine. They are in good hands. Plus, the faster you rest up, the faster you can get back to it." You say, stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones. He's burning up, and it makes your heart pang in your chest.

"But Schatz i- "

"Nico, please." You beg with a sigh, "if not for your sake, then for mine, so I'm not worried about you?"

Nico concedes with a sigh, walking back to the bedroom, "Let it be known this is to ease your worries and, not because I am sick,"

You roll your eyes fondly, tucking him into bed, "Of course, my love. Thank you for resting, for me" you plant a tender kiss on his forehead.

"Schatz! Dont kiss me, what if you my germs?" He says hoarsely, trying to fight off another coughing fit.

You cross your arms, staring down at him smugly, "I thought you weren't sick?" You tease.

He pales, realizing his admission. He opens his mouth to try and form an excuse but breaks out coughing again. You shake your head and brush his head back from his forehead. "I'm going to get you some cough medicine."

Nico tried to protest, but he's too busy hacking his lungs out. You wince and hurry to the kitchen, scrambling through the medicine cabinet for the cough syrup. You grab a bottle of water and Gatorade and go back to the bedroom, where, thankfully, Nico's coughing fit is over.

Setting everything on the night stand you pour the cough syrup into the spoon and feed it to him gently.

"Egh," he sticks out his tongue in disgust. You can't help but giggle.

"I'm gonna make some fresh ginger tea and some soup, and you'll be right as rain in no time, ok honey?" You say smoothing the crease between his eyebrows.

Nico has given up the tough guy act. He nuzzels his head against your hand, and you place another kiss on his forehead, much to his disdain. "Do you want me to turn on a movie?"

Nico shakes his head, "I just want you," he says tugging on your arm.

"I know, honey, I know," you coo, "As soon as I'm done making you soup, ok?"

"Ok, don't take too long," he flashes his infamous puppy dog eyes, and you're practically melting at the seams. "Keep drinking lots of liquids, ok?"

He nods, "And I'm right in the kitchen, so just shout if you need anything,"

He nods again, and you press one last kiss to his forehead before turning on 101 Dalmatians for him on the TV.

The soup doesn't take long. It's your mom's famous chicken noodle soup recipe. You ladle the soup into a bowl and grind fresh ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, and honey into a paste and fill the rest of the cup with hot water.

Nico looks worse than before. His skin is pale and clammy, There's a pile of tissues on the nightstand. His nose looks red and irritated, and he's sniffling consistently. He has the duvet pulled all the way up to his chin, and it's tucked around his shoulders to keep the cold out. Your poor Nico.

You set the soup on the nightstand, along with the tea, and gather his pile of tissues to throw them out. "Come on, Nico, sit up for me," you nudge gently.

"Can't Schatz," he murmurs "too cold,"

You pad to the closet with a sigh and pull out one of Nicos fleece hoodies. "Put this on, baby." You say handing it to him. He reluctantly removes himself from his blanket cocoon and pulls the hoodie over his head. He takes the bowl of soup gratefully, and you slip under the blankets beside him, curling against his side.

"Thank you, my love," he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

You wrinkle your nose, "Ew, I don't want your germs Neeks!" You squeak, dramatically rubbing his kiss off your forehead.

He chuckles and then coughs. After he finishes his soup and complains the entire time he drinks the tea, the two of you fall asleep curled into one another. And if a week a later Nico is the one spoon feeding you medicine, and disposing of your snotty tissues well...

That's what love is.

#guess who's still not doing her assignment 🤪#feeling silly goofy #its due in an hour!#and instead here i am!#nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nh13 #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #nico hischer blurb #nico hischer imagine #hes so precious

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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remember dear writers,

your writing is a privilege, not a right. It is shared with others and not for them.

write what makes you happy + not what everybody else claims they want because their minds change like the wind. That fic is still just as perfect with or without smut and thousands of notes.

people’s reading comprehension or lack thereof is not your problem. If they can’t understand your art, it’s not for them, period. Don’t let it discourage you. You are also not responsible for anyone else’s perception of your work.

POST YOUR WORK! Stop being scared and share that shit because the right audience will find you.

you are not a content machine. If these ‘readers’ can’t be vexed to care about your well-being and wanna unfollow bc you’re not pumping out fics everyday, FUCK EM. and I mean that wholeheartedly.

lastly, you are in competition with nobody. This is for fun and nothing else. Find your tribe, enjoy your fandom/fixation and leave the other shit to the birds. This is not high school, this is not Mean Girls + we’re all adults (I hope). We’re all a bunch of weirdos simping for drawings.

#a lil PSA #cherry chats 🍒#writing rant #writing ramblings #writing rambles #cause I’m tired of seeing my favs leave #and so many good writers not want to write anymore #this isn’t fucking tiktok #and this app has just been on bullshit the past few days idgi #ppl work hard on their stuff and the only thing y’all can comment is ‘p2 🤪’#imagine how tired we are #exactly why I’m not moving my stuff back to WattPad #stop asking

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brrrkdslek · 5 months

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imagine getting ur cheeks clapped by san early in the morning cuz he saw notifications of u and ur boy bestie and got jealous.

san's whining and sniffling and hiccuping softly and it's crazy cuz u just woke up and ur dizzy and drowsy while he's manhandling you and just snapping his hips so fast u can't even speak.

"w-why do you always hangout with him...!? i-i'm the boyfriend...! i sh-should be the- hiccup the one you're with all the time, p-please don't leave me..."

and it's ironic how san says that while he's whining and sobbing softly but has you on literal chokehold as he rams his girth into you. wow, what a morning.

#brrrkdslek 📁: drabbles #im gonna kms #look at me posting silly things in the morning again😜😜😜😜#i need to open up a hospital for myself fr #anygays happy holidays🎄🥱🫶🏻‼️🫶🏻🤪#choi san x reader #choi san #ateez x reader #san drabble #san smut #san imagines #san scenarios #just choi san lmfao

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selfshipcorner · 8 months

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Imagine accidentally falling asleep in your room with the lights on because you were just so tired and your f/o walks in.

They take in the sight of you sleeping so peacefully for a while. Maybe you just had a very rough day, or maybe you just did so many things that you ended up passing out without doing your nightly routine first.

Either way your f/o doesn't disturb you. If you have a lot of stuff in your bed that you would've moved before falling asleep then your f/o does it for you in order to clear up some space for you to sleep more comfortably. Once they finish they turn the lights off and tuck you in, kissing you goodnight.

If you both share the same bed then imagine them trying to sneakily get in so they can rest as well. Maybe they wrap their arms around you and you smile subconsciously in your sleep because of it, making your f/o's heart melt in the process.

Sweet dreams~

Prosh!ppers dni

#hey guess who just passed out still dressed up; lights on; and with stuff on the bed 🤪#I hope this is something #f/o imagines #sleep imagines

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kithtaehyung · 7 months

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[ afyt ] it’s happening, y’all… i got a burst of inspiration while on vacay and am writing jimin!!! this is flowing out well so far and i’ll try to ride this wave as far as possible before going back to 3tan and other things. details below.

and f*ck you, too (m) | work rivals!au, assassin!au, fuckboy!jimin, enemies with very little but very lethal benefits lmao

#hope y’all enjoy this one🤪#afyt #*ryenfictalk #also my dream last night def helped fuel me LOL #afytnotes #jimin fic #bts imagines

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thecruellestmonth · 3 months

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Stop stealing women's traits to give to Jason Todd!!!

Jason as an adult didn't slit a child's throat! He just nicked him a bit, because JASON IS A COWARD.

My FULL-GROWN ADULT WOMAN Cassandra Cain STABBED an UNDERAGE MINOR in the THROAT! So badly that the TERRIFIED CHILD choked in her own blood and needed emergency medical care to save her life!

Batgirl (2000) #64

Batman: Hush

Have fun!! Let full-grown adults stab children!

#And a happy early birthday to Rose Wilson. 🌹 Our beloved Valentine.#Rose Wilson #Cassandra Cain #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Batgirl 2000 #canon vs fanon #fanon vs canon #Rose would totally have Cass come to her birthday party. If she had a birthday party.#Imagine being a little biotch because an upperclassman roughed you up a little. Not Rose!#You know the first time around I felt like the Gabrych run was kinda a noticeable dip after Puckett. But I feel I'm appreciating it more.#WOW! I guess Cass and Jason REALLY ARE ''The Atrocity Twins''! 🤪🤪🤪 I'm going to shove this cherry-picked canon into your faces now!!!#I'm just kidding #Cass fans have suffered too much.

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hopeluna-archived · 7 months

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🥺👉🏻👈🏻 If you’re still taking drabble requests, I would love to see your spin on something for Barbatos or Asmo.

I’m completely normal about them, I swear.

I deeply apologise for what i'm about to do jes <33

Drabble ask game

"If i'm more pretty, do you think they'll like me?"

The silence that followed gets broken by Asmo's laugh. He mutters a small "idiot", shaking his head, chuckling at the mirror in front of him.

Well, the half broken mirror. Most of the broken shards and pieces were on the floor anyway, few embedded on his knuckles.

Looking around the room, Asmo sighed tiredly. Pillows strewn around on the floor, torn pillows ; his pristine silk bedsheets all crumpled up on the floor too. His beauty and skin care products were more or less useless now, most of them had their products dumped in the sink, some in the trash. He supposed, in a ironic way, it was a beautiful mess.

Lucifer was definitely not going to be pleased and so, albeit reluctantly, Asmo got up to first clean his hands. A little magic would cover and heal it up.

This was the fourth-no fifth "breakdown" he has had in a week. Not his proudest moment. Its all your fault really, or at least that's what he tries to tell himself.

Asmo knew he was pretty. He is pretty. Its a fact. But then again, beauty is subjective, isn't it?

So, maybe he wasn't pretty to you. He has tried to change to your preferences though. He's wore perfumes you'd like, clothes that you find attractive, colours that you love. He doesn't understand why it's not working, he's tried everything.

Asmo knows this is pathetic but what can he do? His looks, as he's been told, are all he's got. So if you don't like his looks, you're never gonna want to speak to a ugly Asmo!

The next morning comes and he's there for breakfast as usual, joking and talking with his brothers as if he did not want to peel his skin off last night.

"You know- I have to say, I think blue looks really attractive on some people!-" his ears perk up as he glances at your direction as you talk animatedly with a hardly-listening Beel munching on his and your food.

I could use some blue in my wardrobe. Asmo continues eating as he makes a mental note to go shopping later.