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#but only when its not scorching
fauvester · 11 months
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being nice (or at least cordial) to people I dont like has come back and saved me so so so so so many times
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bunnyb34r · 2 years
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Lmao my day off was yesterday and all this DRAMA just unfolds and I'm like 😭 I just wanted to see funny pictures 😭😭
It was like that community gif with the pizza svdvvfgd
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yourtamaki · 9 months
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rip my ribcage open (devour what’s truly yours)
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zoro x f!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: tummy-pusher zoro, squirting, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, prone bone, chokehold, slight breath play, creampie, violent imagery, religious imagery, bit of aftercare.
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zoro thinks you might be trying to say his name.
he’s knelt between your legs, sitting back on his haunches and rocking his hips just enough to fuck you with the fat tip of his cock. there’s a rhythm to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. short inhale, long exhale, the same way you always sigh his name when he’s reduced you to this.
tears dotting your lashes, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, hips bucking mindlessly trying to get him to slip in deeper.
fuck, you’re hungry for it.
zoro is not a man of many indulgences. he doesn’t allow himself to be. having too many vices can only lead to a weak mind and an even weaker will. he eats but he does not savour, he sleeps but he does not dream.
but he’d be a shit swordsman if he didn’t understand the balance in all things. denying himself all of life’s comforts would make for a rigid spirit, brittle and easily broken. so he’ll sip on some sake and enjoy its fire in his belly, he’ll nap on sunny’s deck so when he wakes, it’s to the sight of his crew set to the backdrop of the setting sun. and when the sun dips below the horizon, there’s nothing to stop him from finding you in the dark and pulling you into a hungry kiss.
that balance is what makes nights like these all the better. knowing that having you like this, spread open and vulnerable, is good for him. that you’re making him a better man, a stronger man, just by letting him take you apart and make a mess out of you. there’s no need to resist the temptation now of bending low to press his lips to your trembling ones in a slow, ravenous kiss.
you taste like need and the sweetest of sins and he licks at the roof of your mouth, knowing he’s damned himself long ago to crave you for as long as he lives.
"if you want something, you have to ask,” he says, pulling back and idly groping at your tits, pinching your nipple when you don’t answer. you throw your head back at the sudden sensation and a wild heat blooms in his chest at the sight, scorching his ribs. how easily you bare your neck for him. how thoughtlessly.
"please, zoro, please. want you deeper, i wanna feel you here,” you take his hands, sliding them down your body until they come to rest on your lower stomach. irritation, sharp and sudden, cuts through his haze.
“don’t fucking beg,” he says, low and even, “you don’t have to beg. ever.”
it’s so far beneath you to plead, he has to swallow down the growl building in the back of his throat. zoro would topple empires for you, would cut the very moon in half if you asked, and you think you have to beg him for anything?
he doesn’t wait for you to nod before he starts pushing in. it doesn’t matter if you understand yet or not, he’ll fuck it into you until you do.
there’s a moment after he’s bottomed out inside you where neither of you move a muscle. he grits his teeth from the effort of holding on to the frayed rope that is his restraint and letting you get used to the wide stretch of him. ages pass before you reach up, slowly as if to not startle the beast above you, and cup his face in your soft palm. you stroke your thumb across his cheek, just on the edge of his scar. your touch is warm and gentle and cracks something inside him wide open.
the rope slip from his fingers. he lets it.
there’s no warning, no build-up before he’s pressing both palms down on your stomach and fucking into you. you reach up to hold on to any part of him, settling around his neck, a balm on his flushed skin even as your nails dig and bite into him.
“you feel that? hmm?” his smile feels jagged and sharp, more demon than man but you only moan at the sight of it, “you feel me in there?”
it’s a strange sensation, feeling himself carve a space inside you, the push and pull. it’s filthy and more intimate than it has any right to be and he fucking loves it.
“fuck, feel you i feel—” a rough thrust cuts you off and when you catch your breath, you’re still rambling, “—so good, you’re so good.”
zoro’s been called many things in his life but good isn’t one of them. it’s never bothered him before. good men don’t claw their way up in the world and leave a trail of slaughter in their wake. good men don’t scream at the heavens and demand to be heard.
zoro is not a good man. but he can be good. to you. for you.
“breathe, baby,” he says, “don’t forget to breathe.”
he presses down a bit harder and your reaction is instantaneous, legs kicking out, the tears that have been threatening to spill over since he stuffed a pillow under your hips finally sliding down your cheeks. you take him so beautifully and something barbed wraps around his heart and squeezes at the sight, shredding him to bloody pieces.
he knows you’re close before your eyes start to flutter, can feel it building like a storm inside you and chases your pleasure with reckless abandon.
“zoro.”
short inhale, long exhale. his name a sigh on your parted lips as you clench tight around him and cum. he doesn’t stop moving for a second, doesn’t let up the pressure even as he feels you gush all over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, his stomach. his strokes stay sure and steady as he fucks you through your high.
you shudder beneath him before relaxing back into the bed and he slows to a stop to let you catch your breath. it hurts to look at you, all divine and fucked out. it’s a sight too holy for a hellbound man like him to behold but he drinks it in anyway, burns it into his mind. 
what’s one more sin to a demon?
zoro slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth, taking a moment to admire the creamy ring around his base, your arousal and cum still dripping off him. you’ve marked him as yours and yours alone without even trying and his cock twitches at the thought.
“no why?” you whine as he pulls back further, “give it back.”
“turn over,” even as he speaks, he’s manhandling you until you’re laid out on your stomach, hips propped up with the pillow he takes care to push under you. zoro kisses down your spine before settling between your spread legs and greeting your cunt with a broad stroke of his tongue, “i ever tell you that you taste good like this?”
“like- mmm fuck,” you say, all breathy as he circles around your swollen clit, “like what?”
“stretched out,” he murmurs, “open.” 
you’re past the point of words as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreads your sticky lips open with his thumbs and buries his tongue inside you. he savours the sweet little gasps you let you like the finest sake, groaning into your pussy as you start to rock your hips and grind your clit against him. he can’t catch a full breath, thinks he might be suffocating, and moans a bit louder.
a swarm of words bubble up hot and fast in his lungs, taking up space where breath once lived. half-formed thoughts try and fail to take shape in his mouth, weighing down the tongue that makes you writhe in the sheets. 
he can’t bring himself to speak but if he could, he’d show you. zoro wants to crack his ribs open so you can see the bloody wreckage you’ve caused, let you crawl in and keep you safe next to the heart that’s always, always, been yours. he’d probably burst into flames with so much goodness inside him but that’s alright. at least he’d keep you warm.
the words stay trapped where they are though and all he can do is all he’s ever known how to. he goes to work. zoro is singleminded in his task, fingers digging into the fat of your ass to keep you still while he devours you whole and it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you off the edge he never let you stray too far away from.
he laps at your folds until you start to squirm away, crawling up the bed and away from him. he lets you put a bit of distance between you, lulls his prey into thinking it’s escaped before he pounces. between one breath and the next, zoro’s on you, draped along your back, licking at the sweat that beads down the nape of your neck. you arch into him, pushing back against the hardness digging into your ass before he rests his weight down on you, forcing you flat on your front.
“where do you want me, baby?” he asks, kissing behind your ear, “tell me where you want me.”
in this moment and in all others, zoro would do anything you told him to. you could make him hump you like an animal until he cums and lick your skin clean or stand across the room and jack off by himself with nothing but the lingering taste of your pussy to help him get off. he’d do it and he’d do it without an ounce of shame.
“want you inside,” you slur, “wanna be full.”
his entire being in the palm of your hands and you choose to be merciful.
“you sure?” he lifts up off you just enough to get a hand around his base and nudge his tip against your clit, “not too sensitive?”
“yeah, pl- i can take it.”
his grin is all teeth when he hears you correct yourself, “that’s my fucking girl. stay still, baby. let me take care of you.”
you’re soft and slick from his spit and two orgasms and when he bottoms out all at once, it’s with a low groan in your ear that echoes behind your breathy moan. sinking back inside you feels like rapture, like something he’s done nothing to deserve but basks in anyway with an endless greed.
he wraps his arms around you, one across your front groping at your chest while the other hooks around to put you in a headlock, keeping you pressed flush to him as he starts to rock into you. zoro is quiet in his worship, purposeful, and you’re nearly as quiet in receiving it, the room filled only by your soaked cunt and ragged breathing. though you don’t say anything, he can hear you loud and clear.
short inhale, long exhale.
a holy call he’s helpless to answer.
zoro fucks you to the rhythm of his name, short, devastating thrusts with his whole weight thrown behind him. he wants to live in this moment, could spend the rest of his days with his cock dragging along your walls slow and sure, relishing the way you tighten like a vice around him every time he flexes and cuts your air off mid-gasp.
but he swore an oath at your altar and zoro has always been a man of his words.
he cums with a sigh of your name, spilling inside you for what feels like ages before he collapses over you boneless and spent, his softening cock keeping you plugged nice and full just like you asked so sweetly for.
“you okay?” he asks, pulling out as gently as he can and helping you roll over when your trembling arms make it clear you can’t do it on your own.
“mhmm,” you pull yourself up until you’re nose to nose with him. zoro holds still as you scatter kisses across his face like stardust. his temple, his scar, the corner of his mouth. there’s no order, no pattern he can discern to the affection you bestow but he accepts it the way all blessings should be received. with silent gratitude.
“nothing hurts?” 
“no. but you’re carrying me to the bath.”
“okay.”
you tuck yourself into his side, reaching up to idly roll his earrings between your fingers, “and washing my hair.”
“okay.”
“and i’m gonna wash your hair.”
“okay.”
“say something else.”
he thinks for a moment, thinks of all he could never put to words and lets them stay as thoughts. instead, he meets your eyes and settles on a simple truth, “you’re beautiful.”
a smile, radiant and bright, breaks across your face. what happens, he wonders, when a demon is the cause of something as divine as your smile? it’s a question he doesn’t mind spending his life searching the answer to. 
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dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and the loml @saotoru
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cravetive · 3 months
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𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗
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✩。 Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader
✩。 Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.
✩。Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.
✩。 Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.
✩。 Word Count: 5.k
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“Are you using it right now?”
“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”
“Omg! Are you in public?!”
“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”
“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.  
“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.
“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.
“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.
Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.
Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.
“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.
“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.
“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.
“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.
“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.
She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.
Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.
“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.
And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.
 His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.
Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.
“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.
“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.
“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.
Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.
Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.
It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.
She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.
“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone. 
“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.
Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.
“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.
The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.
“how the fuck- “she groaned.
“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.
Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.
She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.
She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.
She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.
Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?
The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.
Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.  
“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.
“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.
“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.
“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.
“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.
His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.
She was going to come.
She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.
When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.
What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.
Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.
“Sun tower, how can we help you?”
“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.
“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.
“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed.  Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best.  She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.
“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.
Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.
“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.
“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.
“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.
“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.
“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.
She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.
“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.
“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.
“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.
Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.
“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.
“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.
It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.
“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.
He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.
She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.
“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.
“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.
He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.
“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.
Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.
“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.
“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.
Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.
Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.
Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.
“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.
“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.
“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.
She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.
Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.
They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.
“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.
The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.
“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.
“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.
Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.
Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.  
“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.
It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.
Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.
“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.
“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.
“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.
She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.
Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.
She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.
Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.
“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.
“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.
“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.  
© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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irrealisms · 1 month
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i've seen a lot of people talk about mcyt as a constantly burning library of alexandria recently, and to some extent that's true. people are constantly deleting their blogs, going scorched earth with animatics, fanfics, etc., that they made. but i've also seen people (three in the last few days!) make this claim about VODs, when talking about large fandoms like DSMP and QSMP, and.... guys. that was true in 2020. that's not true anymore. archivists have been working tirelessly for years now to make sure that isn't true.
the dsmp VOD masterlist is here. in november 2020, it's missing 16 VODs, if i am counting correctly--which is still a fairly small minority, but it's a lot, and it sucks!--but in november of 2021, it's missing one, and that's because the cc of that VOD does copyright takedowns, not because the archivists didn't save it. no one in the archivist project is deleting VODs off youtube with no backups the way people are deleting fanfics. three months ago, one of my dsmp archivist friends finished coding a tool that let them reconstruct VODs out of twitch clips, and reconstructed six tubbo dsmp VODs from 2020. not only are we basically not losing VODs anymore, we are actively gaining VODs that have been lost for years, that were thought to be lost forever. the library isn't burning anymore; it's being rebuilt.
the qsmp VOD masterlist is here. it is usually a month or two behind the present day, to give creators time to archive their own VODs, but... look at it. in january of 2024, every single qsmp vod was archived. the same is true of december of 2023, and november, and the vast majority of months for the past year.
i'm not going to say that there isn't a problem. just a few days ago, i realized that a lifesteal VOD from last year was missing--that its youtube upload was messed up somehow, and no one noticed and it wasn't mirrored on the internet archive and the person who uploaded it deleted the original file. and now it's gone forever. this made me super sad! like i said: i'm not going to say that there isn't a problem.
but... look at the lifesteal VOD masterlist here. lifesteal's a smaller fandom than qsmp or dsmp. open the 2022 tab and you'll see months and months of lost VODs, of no one's VODs being saved, because there weren't any archivists saving them. then open the 2023 tab and see: they lost four VODs, over the course of a year. even in smaller fandoms, archivists are working. they're making progress. they're saving VODs. in 2024, lifesteal archivists screenrecorded five streams on tumblr live to make sure they would not become lost media. mcyt may be a constantly burning library of alexandria, but the people with fire extinguishers are dedicated. they're making incredible progress. i know people with petabytes of VODs saved, who have spent money on extra storage for this. i know people who are constantly running up against their storage limits as they download/upload to the internet archive/delete for space/rinse and repeat. a decent fraction of the time, my internet at home is slow because it's downloading VODs.
and these aren't the only mcyt fandoms with archiving projects! the outsiders smp VOD masterlist is here. origins smp VOD masterlist is here. smp earth VOD masterlist is here. rats smp VOD masterlist is here. there are so many others that i just don't happen to know about. the older and smaller a fandom is, the more likely it is to not have an attached archiving project, or for the archive to be missing a lot of VODs. but... guys, we've saved a lot. there are people out there, working tirelessly to save even more. yes, mourn what we have lost--the archivists i know are also the ones mourning the most for the VODs that are, in fact, forever lost media. but don't dismiss how much people have saved. we are making progress. we are losing less and less every month. the vast majority of the dsmp and qsmp still exist, i am not going to say they're the same experience as watching live because they're really not, but.. they're out there. people have put in a lot of work to save them.
if you have publicly available VOD masterlists or other mcyt archiving projects that aren't on this post, please add them in a reblog. i want this post to serve as a reference for how much archivists have saved in this community; unfortunately, i'm not super connected to every community. but i know that--for every person deleting things, there are people working, tirelessly & with little external reward, in so many different mcyt fandoms, to save things. and we should appreciate that more often.
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moondirti · 11 days
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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peachesofteal · 24 days
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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes
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It’s the sundress. 
The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 
There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 
Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.
Swallow you whole, if he can.
A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 
His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 
“Johnny.”  
“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 
“Johnny.” 
“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 
He sees it too. 
“I do.” 
“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 
“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 
His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 
Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 
“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 
It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 
Your gasp is music to his ears. 
“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 
They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 
“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 
“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. “I’m… it’s fine.” 
“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 
“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 
“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.
Flanked by wolves.
“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 
“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 
“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.
You almost look relieved at the sight.
Poor little doe. 
In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.
"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.
"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.
"We'll talk to ye soon."
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gojolatte · 27 days
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❝ seeing your nudes ❞ ‣ jjk headcanon
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❝synopsis❞ ‣ okay but accidents happen and well, they didn't mean to look at something that wasn't meant for them. it sort of just happened. - or - when they accidentally see their friend(s) gf/wife nudes.
・❥・PAIRING(S) › jjk men x female!reader ・❥・GENRE(S) › fluff/(little)smut ・❥・WORD(S) › 2k+ ・❥・WARNING(S) › yuji & megumi are aged up (always), jjk men seeing other men gf/wife nudes, various nip piercings, various v*g piercings, facials, description of the girls nudes. ・❥・POST DATE › 03/31/2024
❝featuring❞ ‣ nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, & geto suguru ♡
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‣ nanami kento ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's wife.
Nanami didn't ask for this.
Although, it's the universe's fault for making you absolutely gorgeous. Any person with eyes can see that and well, he gets why Satoru would want to set you as his homescreen background but... he doesn't get why it's a picture like this. He didn't want to see you like this without your explicit permission. What was Satoru thinking? Does he not have any shame?
Nanami attempted to distract himself from the image he had seen. Anything that will make his boner deflate as quick as possible. He doesn't think Satoru minds (because he loves to show you off) but this has to be crossing the line, right? 
“You alright, Nanamin?”
Satoru meets his eyes and, of course, Kento can't figure out the words to say when he sees Satoru’s grin.  
“You look pale.”
“I-I’m fine, Satoru.” Kento tries to make his voice sound even but he knows he's failing. Miserably. 
Satoru only hums as he glances down when his phone lights up. It's then that he realizes what it was that's gotten his attention. 
“She's pretty, isn't she?” Satoru grins when you text him again. “She set it to that.”
Kento swallows hard, clearing his throat as he tries to adjust himself. The sight of your arms tied above your arms with what looks like one of Satoru’s button-up shirts. Its open wide, giving Kento full view of your body as he didn't realize you had a tattoo below your breast and shit, it was so fucking hot. Bedroom eyes, tears streaming down your face and how does someone look so sexy while crying?
He has your left leg over his shoulder, the right bent to your chest and it looks like he took it right after you climaxed.
You look so out of it, so serine, and fuck Kento would give anything to see that expression in person. And fuck did you also have a piercing above your clit area? 
He tried to ignore it. Ignore Satoru and his little comments about you.
It isn't until he glances over to see Satoru looking at a picture of your pussy on his phone that Kento loses the fight. He wonders how you'd taste, the beautiful jewel sitting gorgeously above the hood of your clit that he finds himself imagining his tongue just playing with it.
And those thoughts alone have Kento spiraling.
“S-She's very pretty.” He knows he shouldn't commute the images to memory but fucking hell, you’re so beautiful.
“I know she is.” Ever so cocky but he can't blame him because if you were his wife, he would be too.
‣ fushiguro megumi ♡ ↳ accidentally sees toji's girlfriend. (Yuji & Megumi are aged up)
It wasn’t Megumi’s fault, he swears! He was looking for a photo of you to show Yuuji and of course, his father doesn’t know much about iPhones. He doesn’t know he can hide your explicit photos behind a facial lock and with him being curious, that led him to click on a photo that wasn’t for his eyes to see. 
“You okay, Megs?” Yuuji inquires, worry etched in his eyes as his friend's cheeks turn beet red. ”Are you not feeling well?’
“I-I’m fine!” Megumi splutters, coughing to clear his throat. Shit. Yuuji can’t see this. He shouldn’t be seeing this.
“What is it?”
“Nothing! It’s nothing.” Megumi groans before closing the photos app completely and tossing his father’s phone to the side of the couch like it scorched his hand. “L-Let’s go do something else!”
“Oh, I thought you were going to show me a picture of your stepmom?” It’s an innocent question, one that wouldn’t have Megumi blushing like he was back in high school if it wasn’t for that picture.
“Y-You’ll see her later.”
“Oh! Great! I can’t wait to meet her!” Yuuji's innocence makes Megumi wish he could take back the last couple minutes or scrub the image of your face with (no doubt) his dad’s cum all over it to preserve his prenotion of you.
“Where’s my phone?” Toji’s voice booms from behind the boys as both point toward the edge of the couch where the device landed. “Why is it over there?”
“Oh! Megumi was showing me a picture of his mom!”
Toji’s face scrunches into confusion before glancing at his son who was trying to hide the embarrassment he was sure was written on his face from his dad.
“Did yo-”
“Yes? Sorry.” It comes out rushed but it has Toji cursing at the thought of his son seeing you in all the provocative positions he’d put you in.
“Next time ask me.”
Megumi nods (because what else is there to say?). He gets up to hastily make his way to his room as his situation continues to grow and Yuji calls after him.
‣ ryomen sukuna ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend (not really. it was on purpose lol).
Sukuna opening an eye on Yuuji’s cheek to see what the brat was gawking at. He can feel the warmth rushing through their shared body.
Curiosity overtakes him as he watches the brat swipe through photo after photo of you. His eyes lock on one that you took, finger against your lip as he can see your breast sitting so pretty. It's a half-body picture and fuck, Sukuna wants to see that sweet cunt of yours but he can view of the real thing later.
"Isn't she a sight for sore eyes."
"Wha-"
“You’re a pervert.” Sukuna snickers, “In public. Really?”
“Shut up!”
Yuji can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks, the heat becoming unbearable the more Sukuna ridicules him. It's not his fault you have him this down bad.
“I’ll admit. She’s got a pretty p-” Yuji rushes to cover the mouth on his face as he hears Sukuna cackle behind it. Why now? Why did he have to get horny on the way home???
He quickly shoves his phone into his pocket, tapping his foot impatiently and listening to Sukuna talk about you in ways he hates in his head.
‘She’s got a pretty pussy, I’d love to bury my face in it.’
‘You’re lucky I haven’t taken over while you’re balls deep in her.’
‘She’ll be begging for me once she gets a taste of what a man can do.’
Yuji is seething, red blurring his vision but there’s nothing he can do right now. So he half-ass listens to the intruder in his head, letting his anger bubble beneath the surface.
He knows Sukuna’s not joking. It's not the first time he's expressed interest in you. He wonders what makes you different that Sukuna would want to risk it for you.
He’s not even phased that Yuji is cursing Sukuna in his head, it won’t deter him from his prize.
You.
He can't wait to take part when Yuji least expects it.
‣ kamo choso ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend.
“Yuuji!” Choso calls to his brother as Yuji practically jumps up from the couch to see what’s wrong. He’s confused, however, when nothing is physically wrong. His brother’s face is slightly redder than it usually is.
“Choso? What’s wrong?”
He practically shoves the phone into his brother's hand before rushing past him to get to his room. Is he having a mental crisis? Yes because he hadn’t expected to see you like that. And also because he doesn’t know what Yuji will do.
“Choso?” He hears Yuji knock quietly. “Are you okay?”
“N-No. I’m sorry. I promise I wasn’t trying to snoop!”
“What happened.”
“Your girlfriend… She-” Choso stops talking the moment the realization dawns on Yuuji.
“It’s okay!” Yuji smiles, going to message to see what you’d sent him. His breath hitches as he sees the mirror shot you sent him. Your back toward the mirror as the pretty red thong sits snugly between your cheeks as the bra has a big mesh bow on the front of it. Your breast looks fucking amazing and it makes Yuji turn redder than Choso. 
He never knows how to handle it when you send him things like this.
“Fuck. Um, you don’t-���
“It’s okay, Yuji.” Choso tries to smile but it comes off as a grimace. Yuji nods, before turning and tailing it back toward his room to call you, leaving Choso sitting on his bed to contemplate what to do. He feels horrible that he can’t get that image of you out of his head. 
He feels worse that he’s horny because of it.
‣ gojo satoru ♡ ↳ accidentally sees kento's wife.
Okay, but it wasn't Satoru’s fault! Really! How was he supposed to know that if he kept swiping right, he would see something he shouldn't have? Something meant for Kento's eyes only.
And fucking Kento. Why did he have your nudes just out for anyone to come across?! If it was Satoru, he would be gatekeeping the hell out of them. Away from everyone's view!
But damn, was it a fucking sight.
Satoru couldn't unsee it even if he wanted to (and trust he doesn't, he just wishes it was his cock in side of you). Your head thrown back in absolute ecstasy, making his cock stir just thinking about how you would feel sitting on his cock.
Your breasts (so round and soft looking, he knows they would fit perfectly in his large hands) made Satoru want to caress every inch of your skin. He didn't know you had a belly button piercing but why was it the sexiest thing he's seen.
How did Kento get so lucky?!
He tries not to let the picture affect him even if he can feel his cheeks run hot the more he stares at it.
Satoru had always thought you had a banging body, beautiful as hell too. He was unsure of how Nanami was able to snag you. Was it through a dating app? Maybe it was a chance meeting somewhere?
So he commutes the picture to memory. 
"What's wrong?”
“Ah, nothing!” Satoru quickly swipes back to the picture of you standing in front of a beautiful sunset before handing Nanami his phone back. “Cute vacation photos!”
He's sure his smile looks more like a grimace as Nanami looks highly confused. It isn't until he accidentally swipes right after Satoru is gone that he realizes his mistake.
Shit.
‣ geto suguru ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's girlfriend.
Suguru knew his best friend's girlfriend was a doll. You were Satoru's dream girl after all (he only knew because he said it all the damn time).
Although Suguru never paid the two of you any mind, he did think you were cute but you were taken and well, Suguru isn't a homewrecker.
At least, he wouldn't consider himself one until his thought process changed the day he was able to sit down and have a very mature conversation with you. One he knew he wouldn't be able to have with Satoru or even Shoko. Your take on the subject matter was informative and it made him wonder how his childish best friend was able to pull someone like you.
He knew his crush blossomed from that day and every other day you had conversations with him but...
What he didn't know was how deep that crush ran. It seemed as if it was getting harder and harder to not see you as just a friend.
And well, the day he saw your nudes on display on Satoru's desktop screen was the icing on the cake for him. He should have left it sitting idle. He shouldn't have touched anything. His mistake? Moving the mouse. It made everything disappear while leaving you on display for anyone to see.
His mistake.
The picture in question was of you, nude as you're smiling at the camera with your knees pressed to your chest and giving him a very pretty view of your pussy. He can see how wet your pussy is, little hints of cream around your pussy entrance too. He can also see a pieces of metal running through your nipoles. Fuck, nipple piercing too?
That's so hot!
It makes his mouth waters and fuck does he wanna know how good you taste so much that he finds himself licking his lips.
He eyes the collar dawning your neck. 'Satoru' embedded in gold. It compliments your skin that's shines with a sheen of sweat, making Suguru feel things he shouldn't feel for his best friends girlfriend.
He's sure Satoru is the one behind the camera because who else would it be? It all sends his mind into a whirlwind of scenarios that his brain should not have conjured out between the three of you. 
He tries to clear his throat when the second picture pops up and Suguru is sure he is going to burst right there. You bent over with your ass in the air. Cheeks spread and he's able to see both holes (your pussy glistening and making him lick his lips). He knows it’s Satoru’s dick settled (no doubt he was about to push it back in) and he can't help the slight color that spread along his cheeks.
He doesn't realize he's still staring at the screen, unwavering until he realizes Satoru is calling his name. It brings him back to his reality.
“Suguru!”
“Yeah? Y-Yes!” Suguru clears his throat but poor Suguru, Satoru already knows he saw them. “ ‘m Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you liked what you saw.” Satoru’s brow raises in question and well shit, Suguru was caught.
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© GOJOLATTE 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  PLEASE DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You, Beautiful People!
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[ii]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt
• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate
• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”
• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly
• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative
• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad
• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers
• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive
• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!
• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”
“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings
• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment
• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again
Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”
• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”
• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”
• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest
• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever
• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.
In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.
“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”
• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her
• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations
• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.
• “This is adequate.”
You snort, “You could just say thanks?”
“How can I repay you?”
“I just told you.”
• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers
• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed
• “Can I–?”
“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”
Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.
“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”
• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards
• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs
• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”
You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.
“No problem.”
• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity
• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable
• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder
• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”
• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system
• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat
• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe
big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!
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luv4berry · 10 months
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Can you pls make one abt miles and yn getting into a very heated argument and she slaps him for saying smth outrageous and then she leaves and he climbs into her window after a few hours and tries to work it out with her
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anything for you.
earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader
SUMMARY: you go over to miles practically drenched in another man's cologne, and he jumps to conclusions all too quickly.
GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff.
WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, physical contact made by reader, jealous miles, cursing, kissing/making out, suggestive (?) miles calling women females (this needs a trigger warning in itself), CORNYYY
AUTHORS NOTE: yo why this tumblr shit lowkey fun? + this is my first request agagaa thank you!! omg and i hit 200?? and my eyes only is almost at 2k notes wtf r y’all onnnn?? anyways thank you for requesting! i didn’t make miles say anything too outrageous just so he could redeem himself later on, hope you like it!
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“you look so good,” your boyfriend says for what seems like the 100th time today, his large hands immediately dropping to your bare waist, fidgeting with your waist beads as he leans in to mold your lips, a smile gracing his face when you return his affection.
“all mine.” he mutters as he intensifies the kiss, his hands approaching the waist band of his boxers that you’ve claimed as your own. when he lifts your feet off the ground, the heels of your feet lock around his back, a giggle escaping your lips when he lays you down on his bed. you pull away from him, laying the palms of your hands on his chest to keep him away when he pursues your lips once more.
“miles, we can’t make out all day.” you giggle, running your manicured fingers down his chest.
“says who?” he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet kisses along the space when he suddenly pauses.
he removes his head from the crevice, sitting up to which you follow.
“baby,” you hum in acknowledgement, “where’d you go today?” he questions you, a hint of an indistinguishable emotion in his voice.
“just here, why?” you question him, running your nails up and down his neck. a look of confusion immediately sweeps over your features when he calmly removes your hand from his body.
“cause you smell like somebody been rubbing all up on you.” he looks you up and down, leaning in to now smell your clothes, hair, neck, anything within the perimeter really.
he pulls back, “who were you with?” his expression solidified.
“nobody, i swear i don’t know why i smell.” you reason with him, genuinely confused as well.
“oh? so the smell just magically took over your hair and your clothes?”
he completely gets up from his position next to you, hovering over you. “y/n, i know im not tripping, who the hell was rubbing up on you and why’s the smell so strong? that’s what we doin’ now? and then you got the audacity to bring your ass over to my house, lay in my bed, and wear my clothes.”
“what are you implying?” you scowl at him, now rising to your own feet.
“im implying that you forreal out here fucking on other dudes when you got a whole ass boyfriend.”
the next few moments go by swiftly and mindlessly, but the scorching sensation left in the palm of your left hand enables you to process what just happened almost immediately; you slapped him. though, not an ounce of regret filled your tank of emotions, adrenaline being the only identifiable one.
“i don’t know who the hell you’re talking to but it can’t be me, how dare you?” you glare at him, the imprint of your palm already making its mark on his face, the surrounding skin blemishing. “when have i ever done something like that to you?”
“today, apparently.” he mumbles under his breath, caressing the skin of his cheek to soothe the discomfort.
you look at him like he’s just grown 3 heads before silently walking over to the corner of his room, pulling his graphic tee over your shoulders. you immediately lunge it at him, same with his boxers, bracelets, his necklace, anything of his that is currently making contact with you. you zip up your navy blue hoodie, slipping your sweatpants over your bare legs.
you bring your tote bag over your shoulder, making your way towards his window which he currently guards, glaring at you from where you stand.
“miles, get the hell out my way before i pop you in your mouth next.”
“i want his name and address, you not going anywhere till i get an answer.”
you flail your arms in his face, “are you deaf or just stupid? there is no “him” because the only person i been rubbing up on is you!”
“baby, i don’t smell like no cheap ass cologne.”
“don’t call me that, move!” you raise your voice, stepping up to him.
“what’s his name?”
“you’re crazy.” you scoff, instead bolting for the front door. you’re mindful of mama rio cooking in the kitchen, slipping past quietly as to not raise any suspicion. though, you do bid her a quiet farewell, yet even when you slip out the front door with a smile on your face she knows something isn’t right by the way miles isn’t trailing behind you.
“miles, qué pasó?” she calls out from the kitchen, wiping her hands down her apron and subtly knocking on her sons door before entering.
“it’s nothing.” he calls back, digging his cheek into his pillow to prevent his mother from spotting the blossoming blemish. he didn’t want to explain how he got you so worked up that you slapped him to his mother, or anyone for that matter.
“it’s nothing? invite her over for dinner tonight.” rio arches her brow, taking a seat next to her son on the bed.
“we aren’t on good terms right now.” he sighs out, rubbing his hands over his eyes.
“even more of a reason to invite her over, right?” rio says, making her way out of his bedroom before miles could come up with a rebuttal.
he lazily grabs his phone when it pings, though when he realizes the message is from you, he throws it on the floor until the phone pings with a second message. he groans loudly swiping open your messages.
one attachment
next time don’t make stupid assumptions you dick
the photo captioned was of a half empty cologne bottle you had probably found somewhere in your home, miles heart immediately dropping to his stomach.
okay, maybe he fucked up a teensy tiny bit.
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when you got home, you racked your brain for a possible explanation as to why you smelled like anything other than your boyfriend. you were stumped till your brother had walked past you, the aroma that had gotten miles so worked up earlier clouding your senses immediately.
you lay on the pad of your tummy on your king sized bed, your irritable mood causing a burning sensation to spread throughout your body. though it may not be displayed through your face, you were absolutely livid. after all you’ve done for him, this is what you got in return, his unprecedented allegations.
sure it was reasonable to be suspicious, but to outright accuse you? you’ve never given him any reason not to trust you, reassuring him whenever he needed it. had your words not been enough? what about your gestures? what about the times you’d cuddle up with him in bed, sleepily muttering words like “im yours,” or “i belong to you, miles.” had that not been enough?
your jittering thoughts are interrupted by a newfound presence in the corner of your room, the peripherals of your eye capturing those twin braids that you adore so much.
“nuh uh, get the hell up outta here.” you sit up, pointing back towards the window.
“deadass?” he raises both brows, staring at you dead in the eyes.
“deadass.” you return the gesture.
“nah.” he climbs into bed with you, settling his arm over your waist.
“im being serious miles, get out. don’t touch me either.” you pick up his arm as if it’s diseased, laying it over his stomach.
“you don’t like it when i touch on you?” he says in a sultry voice, and you roll your eyes.
“ma, listen to me,” he grabs your chin meeting you at eye level, your brows still furrowed out of anger. when your eyes meet his, any foreign sense of anger evaporates from your system, turning to putty in his hands, no matter how much you tried to fight it.
“you’re so pretty baby,” he kisses your downturned lips once.
“why you look so mad?” he ignorantly questions you, kissing your lips once more.
“baby smile for me?” he squishes your cheeks, yet he’s still met with silence till you finally part your lips.
“this isn’t helping your case by the way.” you roll your eyes at his obvious attempts to bribe you.
“alright, what if i came to you smelling like some other female? you wouldn’t like that huh?” he attempts to reason with you.
“i came to you smelling like my brother? and even then if you came to me smelling like some girl i would conduct a thorough investigation first.” you side eye him.
“how was i supposed to know it was your brother? i didn’t even know he was back.”
“he got back this morning, i gave him a hug and he must’ve rubbed off on me.”
“you didn’t tell me all that. so what i gotta do for you to believe im sorry, hm?” he climbs on top of you, following your darting eyes with his own.
“buy me a pandora bracelet.” you joke.
he perks up, “on god? baby i buy you jordans every other day, the hell is a bracelet?”
“i mean i was joking but you serious?”
“you didn’t know that i’d do anything for you?”
“you’re corny boooo, leave me alone.” you push his head away from yours, your facade breaking when a smile plays at your lips.
“y/n?”
“hm?”
“why do you hit so hard?”
“what do you mean?” you ask him, your outburst from earlier had completely left your mind. he turns to the side, and your eyes widen as they lay upon the imprint of your hand slowly fading,
“oh shit,” you wince, inspecting the damage of your earlier actions.
you throw the blanket off your legs, sitting on your knees to inspect further. you silently grab his hand, heading towards your bathroom as you slowly feel guilt begin to stir inside you.
“stay here.” he watches as you disappear into the hallway, coming back with a frozen pack of peas. you hold it up to his cheek for him, fiddling with the ends of his braids as you repeatedly check for signs of the bruising going away.
“im sorry miles, i shouldn’t have hit you.”
he hums in acknowledgment of your apology, parting his lips to speak. “it’s okay, i like them aggressive.”
a smile threatens your lips, your hand going up to cover your mouth to keep your false facade up.
“nah why you keep smiling?” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to stare at you intently.
“stop that.” you attempt to straighten out your face.
it’s silent for the next few moments as you adjust the frozen peas seeing that the bruise had almost completely faded.
“y/n, you know im being forreal when i say i’d do anything for you, right?”
“yeah, i know.”
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love, berry.
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starniolosposts · 1 month
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impulsive
pairing: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: chris impulsively texts you, and it end up with him between your thighs.
warnings: smut, face sitting, short oneshot
notes: hope you like it, don’t read if you don’t like sexual content! ill make more fluff in the future! btw pink is texts
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chris: hi, can you sit on my face??
you: dont know where this is coming from but yes i can
chris: really? like actually? you’re serious?
you: how about you come over and i can show you how serious i am?
chris: omw
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“fuck fuck fuck.” you whined, head falling foward to stare down at your best friend between your thighs.
you let out a cry as his lips sucked roughly around your clit, your knuckles turning white as you clutched onto your headboard.
chris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, getting drunk off the taste of you. he couldn’t get enough of your pussy, veined hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place. he forced you to ride his face until you screamed from his tongue and mouth, shaking and convulsing. he still didn’t stop though, but its not like you wanted him to.
your glazed over eyes found his lovestruck ones peering up at you as he slowly flicked his tongue into your dripping pussy, making your legs tremble at the sight. this was something you had fantasized about but never thought would come true, considering chris was your best friend and never indicated he had wanted anything more.
“o-oh my god, i’m cumming again.” you squealed, muscles tensing weakly as you orgasmed once again. he groaned into your cunt at the taste of your cum dribbling down into his mouth, your hips jerked in over-sensitivity as he continued his tongue movements with vigor.
“c-chris! i cant!” you whimpered, trying to pull off of him but his hands pulled your pussy back down towards his panting mouth, making you sob in overstimulation.
“stop moving. you’ll cum as many times as i say, alright?” he murmured, softly kissing your clit and making you flinch from the burning pleasure. it was borderline painful, but that just made you moan more and louder.
“h-hurts! oh fuck, feels so f-fucking good.” you cry out, your hips now subconsciously rocking against chris’ mouth, seeking out the scorching pain and pleasure he gives you over and over and over.
“you like sitting on my face, baby? my tongue in your pussy?” he lewdly asks while catching his breath, hands massaging your thick thighs that tighten around his head. jesus, he would happily live and die here on this bed, with you sitting on his face.
you mindlessly nod, small tears building in your waterline. your definitely disheveled, your hair is a mess, eyes half lidded, and mouth slightly parted.
he smacks his hand down on your thigh when you don’t answer, making you gasp. he could feel your cunt clench.
“answer me, y/n. or did i fuck you too stupid to speak?”
chris’ words only make you whine and move your hips, trying to get him to just continue even if you knew it would hurt to orgasm again. you wanted it.
he doesn’t comply. he starts to tease you, kissing and biting your inner thighs but not going to where you want him.
you groan in frustration, body trembling with need as your chest heaves with heavy breaths. your pussy clenches around nothing, and you know he can tell his teasing is affecting you by the smirk on his glistening lips.
“what is it, y/n? did i really fuck you stupid? use your words.”
you glare down at him as your pleasure fades away, but the constant throb of need is there. “chris.” you grumble, sighing as he kisses your thigh.
“there ya go, atta girl. now tell me what you want.” his voice is low and causing goosebumps to rise on your hot skin.
“i want you.” you whisper honestly, and you lock half lidded eyes with him. you both know you mean that in more ways than one, not just sexually.
chris’ adams apple bobs as he swallows and then smiles with relief and infatuation. “good. i want you too.”
“then hurry up, chris.” you whine, bringing your hips down in a desperate motion, “please fuck me.”
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(not proofread or edited)
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hurtmyfavsthanks · 1 month
Text
We all know about magical fatigue as a whump trope for magical overuse. Now I raise you: Magical euphoria.
Magic that feels good to use. It leaves the user dizzy and lightheaded, a giddy energy rushing through their entire body. It's enough to leave the most stoic whumpee giggling madly, to make the most obedient soldier go rogue. It's a power that ultimately, inevitably, controls its user.
Mages aren’t trusted to act on their own. They can’t be, not when each spell costs them their sanity. Not when, in a daze of manic joy, they’re just as liable to destroy the enemy as their allies.
And so they need a handler.
Imagine Caretaker in this situation. Forced to watch Whumpee throw themselves into madness, to turn themselves into an unthinking weapon under the demand of some uncaring general. Having to put aside their affection for Whumpee as a person, and analyze them as a tool.
It’s Caretaker who decides when Whumpee is still fit for battle. It’s caretaker who has to look into their dazed and distant eyes, blood dripping into a too wide smile, and decide if Whumpee has anything else to give.
It’s Caretaker who decides when they’re too far gone, when Whumpee needs to stop. And if Whumpee can’t, it’s Caretaker’s job to make them stop. Even if that means using force, even if it means hurting them, because letting them run wild isn’t an option.
And when the battle’s over, when Whumpee is either led or dragged away to the medical wing, Caretaker’s the only one brave enough to tend to their injuries. They wrap bleeding, scorched fingers without a word, the only sound being Whumpee babbling, mad ramblings. Caretaker knows they won’t remember any of this. They still talk to Whumpee anyway, soft, comforting words they hope will bring Whumpee back faster.
And when whumpee’s eyes finally clear, when their body sags with exhaustion they’re just now able to feel, Caretaker feels nothing but grief, because it’ll start all over again tomorrow.
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thedreamlessnights · 16 days
Note
Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so
Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!
For Your Eyes Only
Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW
Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.
Word Count: 5.8k
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After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.
You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 
The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 
Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.
What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.
Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 
The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.
A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.
Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”
Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”
“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 
“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”
“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”
“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”
And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.
“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 
You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 
Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.
When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.
“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.
“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”
“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”
Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 
“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 
“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”
“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”
“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”
But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.
Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 
“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”
“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.
 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 
Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 
Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.
“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.
“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”
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By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 
The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”
It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 
Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.
The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 
You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 
Nothing. You find nothing.
“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”
“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 
He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”
“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”
A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”
Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 
“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”
“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”
“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”
The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.
“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.
“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”
“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”
You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 
“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”
You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.
You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.
Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.
When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 
Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”
But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 
Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.
Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?
Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.
In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”
Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 
“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”
Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”
“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 
Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”
He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.
There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.
When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.
The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.
For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 
You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?
Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.
“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”
You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.
“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.
He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 
Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.
He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.
Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 
You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.
He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 
And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.
After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 
You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.
“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”
He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 
You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 
After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 
Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.
One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.
When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.
Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.
You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.
“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”
“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.
“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”
“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.
And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.
You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 
Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.
He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.
He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.
And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-
And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.
“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”
Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.
“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”
He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”
You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”
He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”
He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-
Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 
You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.
Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 
He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 
For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.
You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.
“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”
And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.
“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.
“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 
You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 
Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.
You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 
If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 
He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.
Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”
You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”
He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.
“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”
Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 
His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.
You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”
And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.
 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.
You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.
“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”
And, gods, all you can do is laugh.
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lxvebun · 10 months
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silent confessions
synopsis: the genshin men crushing on you and the little ways they show they care.
content: Kaeya/Venti/Alhaitham/ Arataki Itto x gender neutral reader. First time writing for venti so apologies if its a lil off. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Kissing in kaeya's. wingman diluc honestly. Going a lil feral in alhaithams and ittos. Use of nickname dear and cecilia<3 They are all quite long but I hope you all enjoy it! Not completely proofread. Let me know if there are any annoying mistakes!
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⁎⁺˳✧༚ Kaeya໒꒱.*
Diluc is sure of three things. One, You're hands down single-handedly keeping the icedtea business alive in Mondstadt, his arms are still hurting from the heavy crates of imported tea from Liyue he has to carry every. Single. Week. Two, you're incredibly oblivious, three, kaeya is a lovesick fool.
Even though diluc has offered to deliver some iced tea crates to your home, it seems that you prefer to drink his stash empty at the bar next to kaeya.
It's making him ill really, seeing the way his brothers eyes keep drifting to your lips and how his hands inch closer to yours, still never really touching. Diluc almost doesn't recognize him. Kaeya is not the type to get flustered easily, if anything, try to make him flustered and it will backfire! but here he is, for hours sitting at the bar head leaning on his hands staring at you like you hung the stars.
You fail to notice how, despite not touching your drink for so long, at one point even dancing around the tavern when the bard played your favorite song, the icecubes in your glass never seem to melt and the tea never gets warm. It's the least he can do, Kaeya would be showing you more grand gestures of love if you didnt make his head fog up with hearts and flowers everytime your near.
"I'm going to use the bathroom, i'll be right back! "You say as you hop of the barstool and make your way to the second floor.
"This, is getting sad you know", diluc speaks as he snatches both yours and Kaeya's glass away, dodging quick enough as Kaeya tries to get it back
"Oh i'm sorry, I didn't know my love life was such an interesting show to you. I'll make sure to tell the writers"
Stupid arrogant oblivious brother of his
He's not gentle as he grabs one of the big pints, pours your favorite iced tea in with the ice cubes and slices of lemon and two straws this time and places it down infront of kaeya.
"I'm doing you a favor icicle"
Kaeya's unable to retort a remark back because you're sitting down next to him again.
"Ooh whats this, luc?" As you stir the tea with your straw, the ice cubes gently clinking against the edges of the glass
"On the house, it's the last"-he throws you a look- bit of icetea I have for tonight. Enjoy." And with that he steps out the backdoor for a break leaving you and kaeya in an almost empty tavern
He's feeling uncharacteristically shy sharing a drink like this. He's not sure he can contain the love confession thats lingering on his lips if you're that close to eachother. You snap him out of his thoughts before he can even try.
"Come on try this with me...its...its quite romantic don't you think" you say, a little timid
Youre killing him. Hes deceased y/n.
"Yeah, didn't- didnt realise Diluc had a romantic bone in him, guess it runs in the family after all"
You're not sure where you got the courage from for what you're about to say
"Maybe, we should do more of these romantic things together."
And just like that, knowing you shared his feelings, he got a bit of his charming wit back.
"My dear y/n- he starts, leaning down closer to you, one icy hand holding yours. Are you asking me out on a date" he wants to revel in making you flustered but he's pretty sure he looks just as flustered as you do.
"Only if you want to, Kaeya"
The way he presses his lips to yours gives you the answer you needed<3
Venti, alhaitham and itto under the cut!
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⁎⁺˳✧༚ Venti໒꒱.*
Archons, the summer this time around is way hotter than any summers before. It's scorching outside and if it weren't for your knight of favonius duties, duties you took over for the Cavalry Captain for his day off (>:( ), you would stay inside the cool headquarters, in your little office with the curtains closed.
You really should get going but you're delaying stepping outside. The favonius headquarters is nice and cool and and looking outside you can see the heat radiating from the stone pathways
You're a knight of favonius! A little sunshine isn't going to hurt! You try to hype yourself up as you make it to the entrance. You can do this, who knows, you might even get a tan.
Bracing yourself and pushing the heavy doors open, you're pleasantly surprised at how the wind immediately seems to pick up and twirl and flow around you in cooling circles. Yes, the sun is still beaming down in all his glory, but the breeze definitely helps. You may even get through this without breaking too much of a sweat.
As you're doing your errands and run basically all over Mondstadt, the gentle breeze surrounding you never seems to falter, even now, as you carry heavy crates of sunsettias and apples up the stairs to Good Hunter, it actually seems like the wind has started to pick up, aiding you in its own way.
Sara is more than grateful as you place the crates down in the back for her. "You're a lifesaver y/n, please, go sit down and i'll whip something up for you".
Who are you to deny a break and a free meal?
Before you sit down you take off your sword and place it down next to you so you can completely unwind. It's not until you look back up from your weapon that you see Venti, with the bright smile he always seems to carry, sitting infront of you
"Hi, my sweet cecilia"
Archons, that nickname. You're lucky you can blame the weather on the sudden warmth flowing through your body.
"You're awfully happy for such a hot day, Venti"
He doesn't provide an answer to that, why is he so happy? Because he's with you of course, he's basically been spending the whole day with you, how could he not be happy?
instead of saying that tho he says "the wind is nice, hmm?" And On cue the wind stars to pick up again, now carrying the scent of the meal Sara is cooking up for you and twirling a few flower petals that got caught in it around you You little
"Yeah it is, i'm not sure I would have been able to get through the day without a little breeze in my face" you laugh and it's the sweetest melody he's ever heard.
"I guess the anemo archon has a soft spot for me"
"I suppose he does"
You fail to catch the longing glint in his eyes and the blush covering his cheeks as Sara brings you your meal<3
Oh my dear y/n if only you knew.
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⁎⁺˳✧༚ Alhaitham໒꒱.*
It's not until Kaveh points it out, after Alhaitham leaves to pick up another book from the House of Daena library shelves, that you realize it, but it seems that Alhaitham, despite looking like he wants to be anywhere but here, always seems to look out for you.
Like the time he dragged you to the desert to study runes with him, he made sure every time you two stood still for a long time, he'd raise his cape a little above your head, sheltering you from the burning sun
And that one time where he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his side when some drunkards stumbling home almost bumped into you
"Drop your pen when he gets back" kaveh says, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"Drop my-"
"Sshh, just do it" he hushes quickly and goes back to drawing as Alhaitham sits back down next to you with a new book in his hand.
You let Alhaitham read a few more pages before you "accidentally" drop your pen under the table, sliding your seat back and ducking under to retrieve it, when you look back up to avoid hitting your head on the corner of the table, Alhaithams hand is already covering it. His gaze is still as focused as ever on the book infront of him, it's almost like it happened entirely subconsciously, like it was already engraved in his perception to look out for you and that alone made the butterlies in your tummy flutter around. You don't miss the "I told you so" gaze Kaveh throws at you.
Alhaithams book manages to hide the gentle smile he failed to hold back as he guesses from the look on your face and body language that you're onto him, and if he can guess one more time, he'd say the feelings are mutual.
He doesn't say anything but he does reach under you to grab the leg of your chair and pull you closer to him, arm draped behind you over the backrest, gently drawing shapes on your shoulder as he continues to read his book
*Did ya'll see that one nick jonas clip where he pulls her chair closer? Yeah? Thats alhaitham.
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⁎⁺˳✧༚ Arataki Itto໒꒱.*
The locals of Inazuma are used to the never ending thundering and lightning. Even on clear days, it seems like you can always hear it lurking in the distance, dancing over the seas. Unfortunately for you, you’re not a local and despite having been here for a while, long enough to develop strong friendships and perhaps a little crush <3 the loud claps of thunder and the lightning that cracks open the clouds still make you flinch
You were embarrassed about it, so you never voiced it out to your friends. You would just try to hide your flinches and do your best to block out the noise. You're not doing that very well unfortunately. Itto has noticed, and boy does it make his heart hurt a little every time he catches you trying to hide it. You're part of the gang! Whether you know  that or not, you're supposed to be able to tell him these things! but he understands, you seem to think that you're going to look weak in front of Arataki numero uno claymore swinging devil beatbox and beetle fighting legend Itto. He made me write this really You could never considering he gets weak in the knees everytime you make eye contact or touch his horns
So as the leader of your gang, your best friend and hopefully future boyfriend, he’s gonna help you because If there's one thing Itto is good at its being loud. It’s quite hard to hear the thunder lurking in the background when Itto's boisterous laugh as he’s "winning" a game of TCG seems to overpower everything, including the way your heart beats a little faster when he smiles at you.
You didn’t notice what he was doing until there was a summer storm forecasted. You didn't even have time to mentally prepare yourself for it before there was a harsh knocking at your door, maybe a bit to hard itto pls dont break the door
"Open up sunshine, I have some snacks :D"
He’s quick to make himself comfortable as you let him in, throwing the impressive amount of snacks and some card games on the coffee table and then taking up half the space on the couch, being careful to not knock the lamp on the sidetable down with his horns.
"Not that I mind Itto, but i didn't expect you to come over. Any reasons?"
"Yeah you're"- he cuts himself off. You never told him about your fear of thunder, would it upset you if you knew he figured it out?, archons he didnt think of an excuse what should he say, where is Kuki in times like this
"Yeah, I just thought i’d keep you some company because I AM afraid of summerstorms, yup, totally terrifying, so scary,so here i am."
Even he knows it's not believable. Especially since he has directed some...colorful words with the shogun before (not in her presence)
You are afraid”-
AND AND I thought, you know, maybe, since were all going to be locked up in our houses anyway we could have a little at home date......:D
Archons, Itto, if the storm isn't going to kill you its him. He's been aware of your fear and silently tried to help you with it? And now he has basically slipped a confession in trying to hide the fact he knows about your fear? He's such a teddybear fr
You don't fight the smile that's pulling at the corners of your mouth as you sit down next to him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and pretending not to notice the hitch in his breath "Thank you, Itto"
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Thank you for reading angels!<3
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smallpeniscollective · 5 months
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Raphael fuckers, come get y'all juice!!
another smutty Raphael/Haarlep blurb for a concept I CANNOT get out of my HEAD
ladies, gentlemen, and anyone else who showed up to the potluck, here’s some good old fashioned dp with Raphael and Haarlep
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content: pov/2nd person, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, pet names, devil sex, fingering with claws (yeOWCH), orgasm delay/denial, p-in-v, p-in-a, double penetration, master/pet dynamic, and whatever else comes with sploinking the devil and his incubus
trigger warning for pain during sex and also for rough sex as punishment for stealing from the house of hope
(this kinda ended up Way longer than a blurb so please enjoy just some porn with barely any plot)
*~*~*
He could have whisked your clothes away in an instant with one of his usual theatrical snaps, but you could sense this was a power play, to make you feel your submission to him deep under your skin. Ravenous, glowing eyes watched as you undressed, making you feel suddenly shy and yearning to hide from his penetrating gaze.
“Oh, don’t be timid now, little mouse. You lost that right the second you entered my home without permission.”
While your terrifyingly hopeless situation had your blood running cold, you couldn’t deny that feeling the low rumble of his voice in your naked chest sent a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You continued to undress with averted eyes and shaky hands. When you dropped the last of your clothing onto a small pile on the floor, you managed to look up at him with anxiously rounded eyes.
“On the bed,” he ordered. His voice sounded cruel and cold, contradicting how intimate this felt to you.
You felt the sensation of shame drop your heart in your chest, unable to stop the panicked wondering of what your companions would think of their fearless leader degrading herself so willingly for a devil.
But your body acted of its own volition, obeying his orders and climbing into the bed rather ungracefully. You sat towards the edge of the bed on your heels, kneeling before him as if he were the answer to your prayers, despite him being the main threat to your existence in this moment.
He approached the mattress with slow and calculated steps while his tail swished behind him like an irritated cat. His wings extended out wide, encompassing you and blocking your view of anything but him.
His hand raised, and you instinctively flinched, only for him to slowly stroke his knuckles down the side of your cheek. His lips curled into a wicked grin in response to your fear. “Don’t act so scared, little thief. I won’t harm you… yet.”
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest at the promise of pain.
He gripped your chin tightly with his thumb and finger, pressing his claw into your bottom lip. When your lips instinctively parted, he dove in. You never expected his kisses to be gentle, but the scorch of his lips pulled a surprised noise out of you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let him consume you with greedy licks of his hot tongue.
His other hand grazed your cheek before tracing down the side of your neck, claws scratching against your soft skin as he slid that hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.
When your hands moved to touch him, he gripped your hair and yanked your head back harshly, prying your open mouth from his. You whimpered from the sting of your hair almost being ripped out.
“You will not move until instructed. Do you understand?”
You tried to nod your head, but his firm grip on your hair didn’t allow much wiggle room.
“Use your words, pet.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust, but the cruel glare shined through his fiery irises.
“Yes,” you squeaked. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how weak you felt in that moment, when your entire journey seemed to have been about proving your strength.
“Yes, what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at you. He was searching for submission in your frightened eyes, attempting to crush any form of rebellion against him you had left.
You reactively gulped, mouth suddenly dry as you realized what he wanted. With your voice as meek and vulnerable as you had ever heard it, you whispered, “Yes, master.”
The sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face could only be described as pure evil. The hero of Faerun, the ender of the Shadow Curse and life-saver to any unfortunate soul who crossed your path, was nothing but a mere pet to their new master.
“I so enjoy that title from your lips, dearest pet,” he hummed.
Before you could think of any response, his heavy hands swiftly moved to shove your shoulders back, sending you flying into mattress. You landed with a gasp on your back, and he was quick to pull your legs towards him, spreading you wide for him.
He had been able to smell your arousal from the moment he laid eyes on you in his home, but seeing now how truly wet you were for him, slick dripping from your folds and smeared across your inner thighs, it seemed to boost his ego beyond his absurd level of narcissism. “My, my,” he mused, swiping a clawed finger along your drenched slit, “it seems you rather enjoy submitting to my whims.”
Without instruction to move, you gripped the silken sheets with quick, shaky breaths as he toyed with you. When his claw caught on your clit, you inhaled sharply and bit down in your bottom lip.
Suddenly, two large fingers were shoved into you, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you at the feeling of being stretched beyond what your own two fingers could manage. His pace was teasingly slow as he watched your body react to his touch, how your thighs trembled and your abdomen clenched. When his gaze shifted up at your eyes squeezed shut, he paused his motions. “Eyes on me, little mouse. You wouldn’t want me to take your averted gaze as disrespect, would you?”
“No,” you whimpered, opening your eyes slowly. When you met his eyes, his stare was downright predatory, and it sent a shiver up your spine.
“No?” he asked sharply, correcting your mistake of forgetting your manners. He forced his hand in deep, and you felt the tips of his claws press into your cervix in a warning.
“No, master.” Your brows upturned with an unspoken apology.
“Do not make me remind you again,” he threatened, digging his claws deeper into the flesh of your cunt.
“I’m sorry, master,” you whined. You could feel your walls throbbing around his hot fingers.
Satisfied with your reply, he continued pumping his fingers into you, letting his sharp claws freely scrape against your insides. Your moans mixed with winces as you experienced the pleasure mixing with pain in a way you never pictured yourself enjoying so much.
After what felt like an eternity of such sinful pleasure, a warmth bloomed below your stomach, pulling a string tight within you. When your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled them out, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips as that feeling in your abdomen sizzled out.
“Fret not, dearest thief, we’re not done yet,” he murmured before stepping back from the bed and snapping his wet fingers.
A flash of bright flames sparked, and you recognized the devilish form that appeared beside the bed.
“You called, master?” Haarlep asked, shifting his gaze from the still-clothed cambion to your naked body with unbridled lust.
Raphael looked over at Haarlep, and you witnessed the possessive gleam in his eyes fade into something colder and strangely more distant in regards to his personal incubus. “I want you to fuck our little thief,” he said bluntly. “And do make sure she comes. It will make the next act of our torrid affair… easier to handle.”
His phrasing had your mind beginning to spin with worry, but before you could vocalize any concerns, Haarlep obliged his master. He crawled onto the bed with fluid movements and slithered over your smaller frame, lining up his already-hard cock with your soaked entrance.
“Wait,” Raphael barked. Haarlep turned towards his master, and you both watched as Raphael walked towards the side of the bed and snapped his fingers once more. An elegant chair appeared behind him, and he promptly sat, crossing his leg over his knee and curling his fingers around his chin as if he were in deep thought. “Now, you may begin.”
At his words, Haarlep turned back to you, smiling wickedly. “I remember you,” he said, his voice identical to Raphael’s but with more whimsy, “you were the little mouse who snuck around the cat’s house. How does it feel to be beneath his claws?”
“Haarlep, your order was to fuck her, not to make conversation,” You could hear the annoyance in his tone.
“Very well, master,” Haarlep said, before settling his hands on the plump flesh of your hips and pushing into you. The first thing you felt was the sting of the stretch, much larger than anything you had felt before. You panted between pained moans as the ridges and bumps that adorned his member dragged along your tight walls, and your eyes squeezed shut involuntarily in response.
“Eyes on me, pet,” Raphael said, and you obediently opened them once more, turning your head to face him as Haarlep ground his hips against yours to nudge his cock deeper into you. Raphael studied your face as your brows upturned and your mouth hung open in intense pleasure.
You could see outline of Raphael’s erection through his breeches; he was feeling every sensation that the incubus was as you were taken in front of him. Raphael's eyes remained on you as he demanded, “Harder,” but you could tell the order was not for you when Haarlep’s grip on your hips tightened. His claws left deep, crescent-shaped indentions as they dug into your delicate skin.
Haarlep’s sensual slower thrusting then became hard pounding, and the sound of wet skin slapping against skin began to fill the room, along with the noises he pulled out of you. Your knuckles turned white from the grip you had on Raphael’s sheets as your low moans morphed into cries of pleasure. Your eyes were still on his but beginning to blur with tears as he watched you be fucked relentlessly by his copy.
Raphael let out his own quiet groans as he felt the sensation of your phantom cunt squeezing and quivering around him. He smoothly uncrossed his legs, spreading his thighs in a deliciously dominant way and untied the string to his breeches to free his aching cock. Precum leaked from his tip as he lazily stroked his shaft.
“Touch her,” he ordered Haarlep. You grew somehow even wetter at his orders when his eyes never left you.
“As you wish,” you heard Haarlep’s voice sing out, his face just barely in your peripheral view. One of his hands moved from your hip to your most sensitive region, and you gasped loudly at the caress of your clit as he continued his hard thrusts.
At the sensation of your clit being touched and the pleasurable pounding you were taking, your knees lifted of their own accord to hold at Haarlep's hips. You could feel the bruises forming already from the ridges on his hips digging into your skin, yet that string inside of you wound tightly once more. You knew it wouldn’t take long for it to snap.
Your loud moans were music to Raphael’s ears as he stroked harder and tighter, his cock now glistening with an abundance of precum. He grunted before asking in a voice even lower and reverberant than before, “Do you wish to come, little mouse?”
“Yes, master,” you managed through your moans.
“And she calls you ‘master’,” Haarlep cooed at your use of the word. “What a delectable little mouse, indeed.”
Haarlep’s generous circling of your aching clit and deep rutting had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, and your thighs began to shake vigorously from holding it back. Raphael could see this, watching you teeter on that edge with a lick of his lips.
He waited, of course.
Pleasure turned into torture as you wailed, your fingers going numb from how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Your muscles grew taught with the exertion of holding in your orgasm.
You didn’t want to beg, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, master!” you cried out, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.
When your cries of pleasure became pitiful sobs, Raphael finally relented.
“Go on then, pet. Come for me.”
With a strained moan, your back arched and your vision blurred as white hot pleasure flooded through you, ebbing through you in waves as Haarlep rode you through it, pounding so hard you could feel it bruise your cervix.
Your thighs twitched as your legs instinctively tried to close from the overstimulation of still being ravaged by the incubus, but Haarlep moved his hands to your knees to keep your legs pried open for him as he continued.
“Enough.” Raphael stood up from his chair as Haarlep stopped his movements, stilling himself inside of you and turned his head towards Raphael. “Up.”
You looked to Haarlep, and Haarlep glanced your way quickly to express his annoyance in having to stop before pulling himself off of you. You let out a soft whine as he pulled his cock out of you, feeling suddenly empty.
“You as well,” Raphael said, gesturing at your limp body.
You took in a deep breath and sat up, muscles already sore as you slinked off of the bed. When you stood up, your knees almost buckled beneath you, but you kept yourself up on trembling legs. He noticed, smirking to himself at your weakened state.
With another snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone, and you couldn’t help but stare at his naked form. You had seen it on Haarlep, but Haarlep’s form was a little less sharp than Raphael’s, with his slightly rounder jaw and softer nose. Raphael’s true naked form was enthralling, the divots and ridges on his body seeming sharper, more dangerous.
He took his place on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression. He gestured to his cock, still erect and glistening with his precum.
You understood the silent command, climbing back onto the bed. You crawled on all fours towards him and took the opportunity to freely graze your hands up his muscular legs, touching as much skin as you could—as much skin as you were allowed to touch. Despite how rough the two fiends had been with you, your touch was adoring and gentle as your fingertips brushed over the ridges and protruding veins.
When Raphael's expression shifted from inquisitive to impatient, you took it as a cue to fulfill his desire and made your way to his lap to straddle his textured hips. You let your drenched folds glide over his shaft in a slight teasing manner, this being the only teasing you could sneak in before his hands seized the meat of your thighs to serve as a reminder of who was in charge.
You took the large member in your much smaller hand while your other hand landed on his broad chest for stability, and you slid the head of his cock down your slit to guide it towards your entrance. With a sharp breath, you pushed down onto him, still feeling sore from the previous pounding. When your hips landed against his with him fully sheathed, you took a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him yet again. Both of your hands on his chest now, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing, and he, in turn, gave your thighs an assertive squeeze to let you know he was done waiting.
Your pace was slow on weak thighs as you rocked yourself against him. But his cock nudging that soft spot deep in your core egged you on, giving you just enough energy to revitalize your need.
You let yourself fall against him, clinging to him and nestling your face in the warmth that was the crook of his neck as you chased that high once more. His hands moved to your waist, forcing you down harder against him, and you couldn't stop the whimpers tumbling past your lips, landing right in his ear.
You felt the bed dip in weight behind you, but you were too focused on the grind of your hips and the pleasure climbing in your core to pay any mind to it.
"What a naughty little pet," you heard Haarlep muse from behind you, but you didn't dare slow or stop your movements. Haarlep sat himself atop Rapahel's mid-thighs, planting himself right behind you, and you could feel his heat radiating onto your back.
"Some spittle, to prepare her," Raphael instructed through soft grunts, and Haarlep eagerly complied, deftly snaking a large hand around the column of your throat before suddenly prying you off of Raphael and pulling you back against him.
Then Haarlep took his turn devouring your lips. His kiss was much more gentle than Raphael's, and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. Your hips ground down harder against Raphael as Haarlep beckoned your lips open with a swipe of his tongue. The second your lips parted for him, his tongue was barging into your mouth, stroking your tongue with tender licks.
When the saliva seeping down your throat made you reactively gulp, you felt your insides light up with an energy that could only be described as carnal lust in its most calamitous form. Electricity seeped into every fiber of your being, tingling all the way down to your fingers and toes. Every muscle in your body ached for sex, more and more sex until it consumed you whole.
Subconsciously, your pace atop Raphael quickened. Your moans, muffled by Haarlep's mouth on yours, heightened in pitch and intensity. Arousal pooled beneath you, leaking onto Raphael's skin and aiding your gliding atop his hips.
Raphael leaned forward, greedily taking a nipple into his mouth while his other hand groped at your other breast roughly. Your hands flew to his head, your fingers digging into his soft hair as you pulled him further against you. You practically mewled when his hot tongue ran over the bud, letting his sharpened teeth scratch your sensitive skin as he sucked.
Your core felt dangerously aflame with a mounting pleasure surging through every inch of your body. Haarlep released your lips, eyes burning into yours to watch his spittle work its magic on you. With his hand still on your throat, his other hand tickled the skin along your spine as it snuck down your back.
In your haze of primal desire, you almost didn't notice Haarlep's fingers swipe at the puddle of your own wetness beneath you, until you felt those fingers smear the slick over your unused hole. Still holding his stare, your eyes widened at the realization of what the next act of your "torrid affair" truly was.
Raphael intended to stuff you full of two cocks, both of which he would be feeling inside of you.
Your mouth dropped open, attempting to stutter out any protest you could think of in the moment, but your words—or lack thereof—were cut short by the hand around your throat quickly moving up. Your jaw was abruptly encapsulated by Haarlep's large hand, muffling any noise you could make.
"Hush now," his voice rumbled in your ear, sending more tingles down your spine. Your labored breathing through your nostrils sounded loud against his hand. "Don't you want to be a good little mouse for your master?"
At the word, Raphael released your breasts, paying his full attention to the interaction between you and Haarlep. You felt him pull away, and your frantic eyes locked with his in a silent plea. You had never had any lovers use that particular hole; you weren't ready for it to be intruded upon.
But the spittle in your veins begged for more.
The tip of Haarlep's cock pressed into the tight ring of muscle, and the feeling was... strange, to say the least. You never used this hole in any pursuits of passion, you never thought to. It was uncomfortable, but the member still being coated in your slick made it easier to take.
The stretch as he pushed in farther burned more than it did in your cunt, and low, pained moans slipped past your lips in response, still muffled by Haarlep's hand.
You stilled your movements, unable to continue grinding with this new sensation distracting you. Your inner walls throbbed around the two cocks, and you could feel the sweat covering your skin, spurred on by the heat of the two infernal bodies surrounding you. With your eyes still on Raphael's, your chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths.
"It seems our little thief needs some aid," Raphael said, his voice more gravelly than before. He removed his hands from your waist, allowing Haarlep's hands to take his place, and you sucked in a sharp breath the second your mouth was freed.
"Sing for us, little mouse," Haarlep whispered in your ear before he forced you down by the waist, plunging the two cocks deep into you.
You shrieked at the pain, and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. The stretch, the burning, the stinging; it was too much. But you were not granted a moment of reprieve when Haarlep effortlessly lifted you and shoved you down repeatedly.
The spittle in your system felt like a godsend now, easing the pain and turning it into a plethora of pleasure as the ridged cocks ground together with the only barrier between them being your slick inner walls. You continued to wail, it being the only sound your used, feeble body could make.
Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as your vision blurred from your tears.
But Raphael would not allow your eyes to close. He wiped the sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face before gripping your jaw with a grip that almost crumbled the bone.
"Eyes. On. Me."
The dam finally broke, and the tears leaked down your face inn warm streams as you blubbered, "I- I can't. T-too much."
He laughed coldly in your face, his broad chest bouncing with the deep chuckle. "Thieves must be punished, dear. Is this not a merciful punishment? Would you rather I skin you? Maim you, hm? Make you bleed?"
You sobbed, your body shaking. You couldn't even tell if it was cries of pleasure or cries of terror; you were too far gone as the devil and his incubus abused your frail, mortal body.
That familiar string winding tight in your lower belly once more was the hint that it was, in fact, cries of immense pleasure, the kind of body-wrecking pleasure that you could never experience with another mortal soul.
Raphael could feel you tightening around him, and the sight of his favorite little misadventurer, his dearest thief, falling apart so beautifully under his claws...
This image of you would make the most wonderful painting to adorn his grand halls.
Haarlep felt it too, and his response to it was to quicken his forceful pace of shoving you down on him and Raphael. His hold on you was so tight that his claws dug into your sides, and small beads of blood trickled down your sweaty skin, not that you even noticed in the moment.
The rapidity of being shoved on two cocks and the pressure of them digging into every soft spot inside of you had you racing towards a powerful orgasm. You could see in Raphael eye's that he was near his own end with his quick grunts and heaving chest. His hold on your jaw loosened and changed to a gentle holding of your chin, keeping your teary eyes on him throughout all of this, while his other hand sought out your clit once more. He wanted to feel you come apart.
And come apart, you did.
With one last wail, a tsunami of blindingly hot pleasure surged through you, sending every nerve into overdrive. Your walls squeezed the two cocks tightly, and every continual shove down on them resurged the bliss until your body was convulsing.
The squeeze of your cunt and sound of your cries pulled his orgasm out of Raphael, and his lips parted. In a chorus of low and sultry noises, you felt him and Haarlep come inside of you in tandem, the molten heat of infernal seed filling up both of your holes.
When they finally stilled, Haarlep released his grip on your waist, and you instantly keeled over, landing against Raphael's chest with a barely-audible whine. You were exhausted, out of breath, and slick with sweat and a faint amount of your own blood.
Raphael's breathing returned to a normal pace almost immediately, and you listened to the heavy beat of his steady heart to ground yourself back to reality. He let you lay on him for a moment and stroked your hair rather gently, unusual considering how cruel he tended to be.
Haarlep noticed this, eyeing his master with a suspicious gaze. Has the devil gone soft for a mere mortal, and a thieving one no less?
Raphael motioned to dismiss Haarlep with a wave of his hand, not even giving the incubus the dignity of a verbal dismissal.
Haarlep pulled out of you, his seed spilling out of your used hole. A whine hitched in your throat at the motion as you tried to control your breathing. He slipped off of the bed and gave Raphael one last mischievous glance before disappearing in a quick haze of sparkling flames.
Once you were alone with Raphael, his hand reached for your face, lifting your head up to meet your tired eyes. “You did very well, little mouse. You’ve proven time and time again to be far more resilient than I originally gave you credit for.”
Your arms trembled as you lifted yourself off of his chest. All of the doubt and fear you had tucked away when the pleasure rolled in came flooding back. “What’s going to happen to me?”
He smirked at your nervousness. He twirled a strand of hair around his finger while he murmured with his smooth, deep voice, "You will rest in the House of Hope tonight, little thief. And tomorrow, you will be back on the road with your merry band of misfits. I still need the Crown, and how very lucky for you that I still have your contract."
The contract. The very item you were caught stealing. You were still merely a pawn in his overarching game of chess, but he was right.
How lucky for you that your services were still needed.
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kissingchoso · 10 months
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i’m so into the thought of your “best friend” just pressing you into the bed, making out with you.
it starts off as a slow afternoon. the sun was shining directly into your room with a nice summer breeze entering through the crack of your window. your favorite album is quietly playing on the record player somewhere in the corner. and there lies a handsome boy, right on top of you, dancing his lips on yours as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
he excuses this as a way to pass the time. lazily make out with one another until the heat from the summer and your hormones becomes too bothersome and you’re whining for him to pull away.
his tongue traces against your bottom lip before gaining access to your mouth. teeth gently knock into each other every once in a while the more he tilts his head. any onlooker would probably think he’s trying to devour you whole— and for a split second, you would’ve believed it.
he swallows all of your small sounds, every sigh, moan. it’s all claimed by him with no chance of you owning up to it completely.
this is the part where hands wander and your bodies readjust themselves. large hands slide from your hips down to the backs of your knees, pushing them up and out so he can slot his hips in the space. your cotton shorts slide up even further from the new position and right against your clothed cunt do you feel the hardness of his dick pressed up right against you. your smooth legs wrap around his waist to keep him trapped there while your hands slide up to the back of his hair.
you moan quietly against his lips at the new position, silently craving more but you didn’t know where to even begin asking for it.
it’s fine though. your best friend’s got it covered.
he pulls his lips away from yours to allow you to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva connects you two together before inevitably snapping away. you don’t get to properly look at him before he’s diving back down, peppering kisses against your check and all the way down to your sweaty neck.
it’s so hot in there.
a large hand slides its way up and under the tank top you were wearing. the heat from his hand almost feels scorching but that sensation fizzles out to pleasure once it reaches your breast. this is usually how far this goes before he stops completely, but there’s no end in sight this time around. your nipple is teased with his thumb rubbing against it every once in a while and causing it to pert up against his ministrations.
at this time, your moans have picked up much more. your head is pressed against your pillows and your rocking your hips against his without fully realizing it.
he doesn’t realize that he already has begun to grind down into you, offering the both of you some reprieve this way.
the heat becomes more pertinent when he breathes against your neck. his lips found a new spot to assault for a little while but this is a certain spot that has you keening. your body temperature has undoubtedly gone up higher and you can now feel the sweat beads forming against your pores.
you breathe his name out airily, squeezing the strands of hair that find themselves tangled between your fingers. but he doesn’t answer, opting to move his lips and tongue against any skin he finds.
again, you try his name but a little firmer. finally getting the hint, does he pull away to look down at you with far away eyes, struggling to bring himself back to his current reality.
“hm? what’s wrong?” he initially asks, bringing his hand from under your shirt to to cup your cheek. “‘s too much for you?”
quickly, you shake your head. “no, not that,” is all you say, legs tightening against him. the movement causes him to grunt slightly. “what is it then?”
“‘m really hot,” you whisper, pouting up at him. it’s only then does he realize the heat in the room. the once opened window does nothing to stave off the warmth emanating in the air, nor the rising heat from the skin to skin contact your bodies are making. there’s even hair sticking to his damn forehead from how hot he is.
he blinks a couple of times before nodding. “let me close the window and get the AC going, yeah?” he reasons.
while yes, it would be good to get some cold air circulating, he just wants to be between your legs again and making out with you. even if it doesn’t lead to anything more.
before he can move off of you, you grab his elbows. “just take your clothes off…” you say, albeit desperately.
“baby…”
“it’s fine. i promise. ‘s just me,”
“i know, i know. but we can’t go back after i get you completely naked,” he starts, eyes trailing down the bead of sweat that slides from your jaw to the base of your neck. “might not be able to stop myself at that point.”
you reach up from the bed to kiss him a couple of times, each of which he reciprocates immediately. “i don’t want you to, dummy.” you giggle. “if you don’t do anything, i swear to god i might implode or something.”
a devilish grin appears on his face at the implication. “been holding out on me, baby. if i knew i left you like this, i would’ve gotten you naked a long time ago.” he finalized his statement by sitting up, sliding his shirt off completely.
“we can make up for loss time starting now,”
“oh, i plan to sweetheart.”
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kaeya, childe, kazuha (biased), aether, kaveh (i have a soft spot for him), hinata (extremely biased), bokuto, sugawara, kuroo, atsumu, gojo, toji, sero, shindou, steve harrington, eddie munson, your other favs ofc <3
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