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#he'd be somewhat handsome
draugrfiend · 1 year
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day 2085 of william birkin brain worms: still going strong
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canisalbus · 9 months
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gothic lolita machete came to me in a dream
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no.1 question not to ask a bug-lover
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!
Thanks sweetheart, love you!
cw: alcohol
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words
You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 
“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 
“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 
James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 
You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 
James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.
“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 
You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 
He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 
A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 
Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 
He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 
“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 
“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 
“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 
“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 
Your mouth drops open. “James!” 
Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 
Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 
Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 
Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 
“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 
“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 
Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 
“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 
“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 
“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 
James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.
“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 
“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 
Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 
He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 
“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 
“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 
“Oh, right!” 
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toruro · 1 year
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— ✧ the cake in the back
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.
genre. smut, fluff
tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe
w/c. 3.8k+
a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day
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"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.
mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.
"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"
the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.
"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"
"you already know it."
grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."
"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.
"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.
seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.
the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.
you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.
realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.
"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.
"new apron, huh?"
shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."
seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"
you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."
"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.
"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"
"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.
"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.
"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."
"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"
"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."
when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"
"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."
you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.
the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.
"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.
seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—
seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"
"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.
there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.
you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.
"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.
you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.
"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.
"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.
a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."
now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.
you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.
again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.
wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.
the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.
seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.
"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.
with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.
"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.
"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.
there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.
it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.
and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.
fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.
"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.
the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.
parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.
"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.
and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.
"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.
it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.
"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.
"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.
you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.
"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.
"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.
"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.
you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.
'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?
"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.
"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.
"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.
the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.
which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.
what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.
and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.
"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.
and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.
"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"
"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"
and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.
how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.
gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"
"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.
as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.
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a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!
tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)
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werecreature-addicted · 2 months
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Do you remember your writings about a minotaur and a farmer girl? Well, how about this, one night there is a party in the small town, you know, and that day both humans and monsters attend, it is a day when everyone can have fun and relax, humans, werewolves, half-snake creatures, orcs, minotaurs, etc, anyway, in the town the minotaur realizes that the girl he lives with is somewhat "popular" among some humans and monsters, since it shows that some have an interest in her, you know, they are in love with her, and well this is something that makes our minotaur jealous 🤭
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part one, two, three. and for those who didn't see the Minotaur's name is Sam now.
Sam looks up at the dazzling lights that flit through the night sky. Fireflies glow in the dark like stars. Children run around with glass jars trying to catch the small insects. There's so much noise, it's a little overwhelming, children shrieking in delight, groups of people talking loudly, and a little further down a band was playing.
You reach out and squeeze his hand, reminding him that he isn't alone.
"It's pretty, isn't it? I'm so glad you decided to come to the solstice festival with me," you say smiling. It is a beautiful summer night, and having you with him makes it all the better. he can't help but think that you're pretty tonight too.
"You've been begging me for weeks to come with you, I couldn't say no," he murmurs. it wasn't quite true, you'd just been hinting over and over again that he should come out with you tonight. You laugh and squeeze his hand again before letting go completely, and he fights the urge to pull your hand back in his and cling to you a little longer. Sam craves your touch more than he should, your hands are warm, and small in his, and they make him feel at ease in a place like this, surrounded by noisy strangers. Even though he's out of his element, he is glad he came, he feels better knowing he can keep an eye on you, and keep you safe, should the need arise.
You'd promised him other nonhumans would be there tonight, and you'd spoken the truth. everywhere you looked there were werewolves, nagas, and some paler humans he could only assume were vampires, Still, he felt like he stood out, he was a good foot taller than anyone else here, and he did notice the nervous glances he was getting. He gets it. he's big and scary, covered in scars, and has a broken horn.
The people of the town surprise him. many people came up to him and started a conversation, even though they were clearly nervous. He hated it. And he hated that he hated it. He still wasn't good at talking to anyone who wasn't you, just because you're nice and treat him with respect doesn't mean All humans are like that, he knows all too well just how cruel most of your kind can be.
That being said, most people coming up to him weren't actually there for him but for you. He knew you were lovely, kind, charming, and attractive, but he's a little surprised that so many others thought the same. It seemed like half the town wanted to catch up, buy you a drink, take you for a dance. humans and monsters alike.
He feels the jealousy spike, he wants to hoard your attention, and selfishly keep you all to himself. The two of you were basically alone on the farm, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have to share your attention. and it's not a welcome change. Luckily for him, you don't seem eager to leave his side. You politely turn down the handsome werewolf who asked you for a dance. You seem perfectly committed to staying by his side this whole night, just like you promised you would. there are no words for how grateful he is that that's true.
"I don't know how to dance," he admits softly as the werewolf walks away.
"What?" you ask, not following his train of thought.
"I mean. if you want to dance tonight, that's not something you can do with me," he explains, his mood darkening as he thinks about the things you couldn't do with him that you could with a more normal man. He thinks about all the people who've talked to you tonight, any one of them would make a better more stable partner than him. He feels guilty for wanting you, especially when he considers how much he doesn't deserve you.
"No one was born knowing how to dance, Sam, it's a skill, you practice and you learn. If you want I can teach you," you offer. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, He'd fought countless bloody fights and none of that was as terrifying as the idea of trying to learn to dance in front of such a large crowd. You laugh lightly seeing the look on his face,
"At home, I'll teach you when we're alone, besides this-" you gesture to the band playing "-isn't really my style, I'll figure something better for us to dance to," you assure him, and he relaxes. Dancing, alone with you, at home. your shared home. it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Love is not a word that he never uses ever, and he rarely even allows himself to think it, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep the words inside. He's sure that if you really do teach him to dance that will be his breaking point, or maybe he wouldn't say "I love you" but he might just kiss you deeply instead. Then again, maybe he should, if you were officially his it might keep some of the other men in town away from you. He wouldn't mind that at all.
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bisayawa · 7 months
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freckles & blades & helping hands
✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader
✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.
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"do you need any help?"
legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.
the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.
"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."
the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.
there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.
"i could do it for you, you know?"
his eyes never leave the mirror.
"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."
"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."
"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.
he rights himself.
"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.
a beat passes.
"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."
he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.
the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.
"so..." your voice cuts through.
"so...?"
"could i do it for you?"
he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.
"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.
"you could teach me." tap tap.
"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap
"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"
"it's with the grain, honey."
"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"
"hm..."
"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."
"you've catalogued my grousing?"
"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."
he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.
"alright, alright... here..."
he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.
"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."
he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.
"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."
he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.
"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"
your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.
"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."
shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.
the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.
"how was that?" you murmur.
"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"
"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."
"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."
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tomorrcwz · 2 months
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✰ LATE NIGHT'S DESIRE , O. PIASTRI
[ preview ] working as a mclaren strategist for years, the newest driver is the perfect candidate to satisfy your hunger — he does make it easy for you, coming to your door in the middle of the night.
[ tw ] smut, unprotected sex, dom!fem!reader, teeny tiny little bit of corruption kink, spit kink, inappropriate work relationship | gif by @princemick
[ a/n ] idk what this is but yeah slay or whatever bruh. Might write more smut about oscar, I'm really fixed on him rn + ITS MELBOURNE GP and in honor of that i had to write a little something
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. minors do not read | masterlist .
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The sight of the quiet, charmingly awkward Oscar makes your blood pump fastly though your veins as the desire within you grows. You know its wrong, having inappropriate thoughts about a co-worker, one that isn't as secure as you are on the team but you can't help yourself with it; the need to fuck whoever is handsome and new is strong enough to make you black out rules.
First you had Lando — he was eager to fuck you as you pleased, then you had to have Daniel, who mind you, wasn't as easy to get in your bed and he also wasn't to corrupt as he was the one to mirror your actions and pull some stuff. Sadly it ended rather fast with him getting a girlfriend. But you still have Lando every other month as the boy can't keep a girl around, making him fall regularly in your bed or wherever you are to fuck. It's not that fun anymore, quiet bland. The routine is always the same — first he'll finger you to get you wet enough and then you push him to whatever surface and take his cock. Afterwards you clean yourself, Lando already out of the door.
So, that brings you to Oscar.
He's fresh blood, newly single, and dear lord in heaven over the winter break he put on a lot more muscles, looking ridiculous strong, causing your pussy to flutter whenever you see him. You flirt with him quite often and you do see his brown eyes cloud with lust, but you want to take your time. There's no need to rush.
But the day comes.
Its Sunday night, hours after the race and celebrations of Oscar taking P3, when you hear knocks on the door of your hotel room. Reaching for your phone, the homescreen only shows a few messages from people you're currently not interested in responding. No Lando. Normally, he'd shot a text beforehand, so you're not sure of who is standing opposite the wooden door.
Breathing in, you swing your bare legs off the bed and walk across the room, opening the door. The sight greeting you leaves your mouth agape — Oscar's wearing an maroon satin shirt, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his thick fingers are two rings which you've never seen him wear but it suits him. He looks hot, even more so with his hair all toulouse and a curl glued to his forehead. It's an indicator that he is influenced by Lewis and Guanyu, both very fashionable drivers on the grid, and you could kiss them right now because Oscar has never looked this hot. He is but this is otherworldly.
"Everything alright, Oscar?", you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts and unintentionally pushing them up, presenting the man with your more than welcoming cleavage.
He can't help himself; his focus rests on the soft curves of your tits, the skin glistening under a sweat film the heat of middle east brings.
Clearing his throat, the Mclaren driver, sends you a dashing smile. "Yes, actually I've missed you at the celebration and was wondering if you—", he stops himself, cheeks flaming hotly.
"If I want?"
You can see the thoughts running around faster than the car on the track earlier. Must be hard to grasp whatever plagues his mind.
"I was wondering if you'd celebrate with me", he whispers, somewhat bashful which is endearing.
"Sure, let me throw on something else to wear, can't go out in this", you say, hands moving across your body to clarify your point; due to the heat you're only wearing some boxers and a flimsy babydoll top. Oscar gazes at you, shaking his head. "No, no, I mean celebrate in, you know . .", he stumbles over the words, blush now burning his ears too.
Oh. Oh.
To end his misery, you catch his wrists to pull him inside before hitting the door close with your foot and shove him against it.
For the first time you kiss him, all teeth and tongue, and its different from what you have imagined — his hands are rougher, caressing your lower back, creeping under the top to feel the warm skin of yours. Grabbing you by the hips, he sloths his dick against your stomach and grinds. He doesn't feel small, maybe even bigger than his teammate. In your imagination, he was softer yet he let you guide him to bed exactly like dream-oscar did and falls backwards on top of the cream coloured sheets, breath hitching in anticipation.
"Remove your clothes, baby."
You reach for the hem of your top as you command him, letting him stare at your tits while he steps out of his bottoms and throws the shirt in a corner. His milky smooth skin's glowing in the dim lighting a street lamp spends, and you see a map of freckles on his chest as well as a happy tail lending down to his beautiful cock.
Spitting in your hands, slander finger gently touch his length, causing Oscar's head to fall back, lips wide agape and you take the opportunity to spit in his mouth. "Shallow, Osc, be a good boy f'me, yeah?", you coe, hot breath fawning the auricle. He does, groaning lowly but its getting louder when you bring your legs on either side of his lap, left hand grabbing his cock and coating it in your wetness before probing the fat mushroom tip at your pussy, gliding down till every inch is inside you.
The feeling of his cock might aswell change everything; he's the biggest you've ever taken, scraping and burning you inner spongy walls deliciously as he kisses your cervix.
Fuck Lando, he doesn't have anything on Oscar.
"M so full, you're filling me up so good, baby", the praise let the man smile in a haze, far lost in how good you ride him. Your wet hole holds his grith snuggly as you fuck yourself on his cream coated length — his eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight of a white ring forming on the base of his dick, something he has never seen before, and it spurrs him on to grind his hips into yours, getting a worish wail out of you.
You fuck him till his abdomen thighten and he pumps you full of cum, that is oozing out of your desperately moving body, chasing your own orgasm. Oscar leans in, bitting on your pulse point. Then you fall over the edge, legs shaking as you still on top of him.
After catching your breath, you charmingly smirk at him before he grinds up in your fluttering hole — he's already getting hard again.
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 20 — DACRYPHILIA
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
kink. dacryphilia — enjoyment or arousal from tears and crying
𖧡 — including — neuvillette, diluc, baizhu
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, dacryphilia, just tears everywhere /hj, handjob, overstimulation, oral (fem! receiving), thigh riding
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𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE
neuvillette felt like your clasp on his skin gave him some kind of nurture that changed his complete body and its upheaved reactions.
was he burning inside the limits of his body right now? was he igniting underneath his soul? no, of course not, but he sure felt that way, primarily because of the way you were expertly rolling your palm over his flaring erection— with the weight of your hand on him now, he simply cannot move an inch, light as your trace may be, he cannot even breathe evenly.
his warm cum was smeared everywhere around your hand and glissades down your tensed knuckles, and he's still dripping in it when he leans his head back before huffing out shakily, scrunching his eyes together as he perceives a mischievous grin manifesting on your joyful expression.
it feels good, for the both of you, absolutely intoxicating, to have this sort of power over an individual such as neuvillette, and you slant your head a little forward whilst picking up the tempo on your palm, fisting his large cock in your hand and curving your wrist ever so often to add a slight twist into your movements. you muse, kissing his cheek before he returns your gaze eagerly— his blasted, glistening, pleading eyes normally untouched, although now crowded with hot tears drizzling down his scarlet cheeks which radiated eminently through his pale complexion.
"do you want me to stop?" you coo, and smirk right after to fill him with some sort of frustration, or at least that he'll end up pondering deeply on where you got that honeyed, sweltering audacity to ask him such unfathomable question. neuvillette inhales inside his chest, before coughing out into his fist as to somewhat dampen down the obvious mess of himself before rummaging his large hand over your thigh to squeeze it and release a little pressure off his groin.
he shakes, almost winces when you add additional relish on him length, precisely every time you'd slide over his red tip which was practically swelling to the hilt, "of- of course," he speaks in between desperate noises and coughs before opening his mouth to add onto his words without anything really falling from the tip of his tongue.
ugh, he's so pretty, so handsome and cute when he's crying all over himself due to your skilled thrusts and caring on his shaft and you can only imagine how the weather in fontaine must look like right now.
all you can do is giggle sweetly at him before planting another kiss on his dampened cheek, the slightly curved slopes of his cock like putty in your hands as you sensed that he was just about to cum— he was so close, the erratic rutting into your hand, his hips pushing and twitching upwards to catch your pace halfway and the strengthening squeeze on his hand on your thigh revealed as much as they could.
so, well, what happened next? you naturally gave neuvillette what he yearned for, loud, penetrating noises of smack, smack, smack's demolishing his sensitive hearing abilities as his face grew even hotter, the shattering hue of red growing into a darkened vermillion before he cums at last, wrinkling his nose in concentration and leaking of creamy, white cum, shooting it all over your hand and his lower stomach until it dribbles all the way to his scrunched up slacks hanging loosely around his thighs.
there's still so much more and neuvillette empties himself out with whispery grunts and wet ruptured moans, hard and without shame, although you knew he'd be embarrassed right after he'd witness the utter mess he made, or listen to the growing storm outside.
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𖧡 — DILUC
diluc's dark intensity takes shape over your complete figure as he first settles in between your thighs before carefully placing each leg on his shoulders— your hands already balling into the cecilia flower scented sheets when he first, skillfully flicks his tongue over the sensitive bead in between your folds, slurping up the taste of your arousal.
the curved ending of his tongue digs into all the right places, and diluc gradually applies more and more pressure with his wicked muscle working wonders until you practically scream at the top of your lungs, your pleasure entirely centered on you, diluc made sure of that, and the stimulation of the roughness on your sensitivity through the wetness of your slick and his saliva just got better and better, even more precise when he penetrates your hole and gathers your slick on him— he's so obsessed with how you taste on him he could cum just from that, just from having himself soiled with your arousal all over.
diluc wantonly moans into your sopping cunt and teasingly nibbles down on your folds to contain some of his passion bundled up inside the flesh before looking up between your thighs, his own erection pushing the limits of his self control, close to showing the red tip at the top of his waistband. yet, when he suddenly witnesses the current state you were in, he almost touches the threshold of his solid self restraint and could cum from nothing but your writhing figure.
at first, a single crystalline pebble rolls down your cheek, before you're whimpering again at his tongue thrusting into your hole, additional tears sizzling from your eyes just like fumes from a camp fire as diluc unquestionably marvels at this whimpering echo from you— it's almost embarrassing and he wouldn't confess it to you, ever, but the thought that he was responsible for this, making you cry out of sheer pleasure that only he was allowed to place on you was thoroughly surreal and maddening.
he continues to drag the flat of his tongue over your dripping cunt as you practically cling and ride his face, sucking in your chest and arching your back before your mouth gapes open, letting out an excess of moans and whines with each flick of his tongue being reviving in nature, your blood shot eyes blurred and making it unable for you to properly gaze down at him, yet you do not mind— because your reactiveness to his tongue moving at the speed of molasses brought the immediate reaction of yearning and enjoyment to your lower region, the thudding bolt located inside your belly growing and growing, yearning to snap in half.
and your tears, so warm and comforting, glide gently down your cheekbones and the beauty of your facial features, trailing to the sides as you muffle the squeaking noises littering from your throat before inspecting the blown pupils staring up at you, half lidded and webbed in lust, diluc's scarlet eyes remaining focused, famished and in under a dime— he twists his tongue back through the tight ring of your creamy hole to savor the flavor forever.
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𖧡 — BAIZHU
how baizhu took authority over your aching hips truly shouldn't have made you this obedient to his smoldering touches, nor shouldn't have made you this reactive as your naked folds repeatedly crush over his clothed thigh.
his clasp on you was unfalteringly unchangeable that you're growing an eternal hotness all over your skin with the igniting clench hovering like a strong weight stemmed against your shoulders that you're forced to carry out.
he rushes you on his thigh with a rough tug, back and forth and back and forth, finding a surge of solace at all the mean torment of not allowing you to cum on him, nor have his cock deep inside your guts, seemingly blurring it all together and stitching it on your facial expression crumbling right before him as you develop into a hazy mess, your arousal bleeding out your fluttering hole and soiling his pants.
and once that first tear broke free from the fast inflicted overstimulation, the rest followed in an unbroken stream— and you press your face into his shoulder as you began to cry with the force of a person pulling the strings on your most sensitive and swirling places.
although, baizhu wouldn't stop there, he never did, because he enjoyed this, how did you forget? and he graciously settles his head against your collarbones, wetting his lips with his warm tongue before lapping at the quivering skin, choosing to ignore your whining for a second as the sensations he inflicted on your chest moved downward to nibble on your swollen core.
you can feel his lips twitch like he's trying to hold back his own pleasure rutting against his tight pants, additionally you note how baizhu attentively listened to you, precisely for any sort of noise you'd make due to his cruel ministrations. you grip around him harder and hold yourself close to his shoulder as you start to squirm, your digits feebly pushing into the flesh of his shoulders as to keep him on you with ease.
the sweet words and encouraging praises of baizhu too, silently become inaudible when you rush yourself to a mind-altering orgasm, "you're doing so well, darling," and "just a little more, my love," with such praising sentences, truly, they must be even better and more ravaging than the heat you felt building up in your stomach, making you jittery, yet you couldn't understand anything anymore— as if dipped underwater, spasming above him, screaming, clinging to him and finally climaxing all over his clothed thigh.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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melonnmiru · 8 months
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being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.
he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.
the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.
you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."
"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."
"still hot."
he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.
while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.
wait.
kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"
"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"
the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."
alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.
"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"
"did you just favorite it?"
you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.
"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"
"they're literally edits of me!"
eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.
he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.
"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.
"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"
"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."
you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.
"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."
for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.
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my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!
A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️
Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).
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Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 
After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 
At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 
So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 
Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 
Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 
The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 
“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 
“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 
You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 
Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 
If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 
“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 
You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 
You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 
But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 
“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”
Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 
He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 
“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 
His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 
“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 
“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 
“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.
“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 
“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 
You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 
Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 
“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”
“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 
“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 
“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 
“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 
Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 
It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 
He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 
He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 
And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 
He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 
He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 
“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 
“Mom!” 
“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 
It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 
The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 
“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 
“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 
“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 
“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”
“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 
Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 
“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 
He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 
“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 
He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 
“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 
“Yes.” 
“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 
“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 
“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.
He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 
“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 
“You're serious?” 
“I guess…. I guess I am.”
“And you're… you're single.” 
Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 
“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”
“Neither do FBI agents.” 
“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 
“Definitely.” 
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Text
Ok listen up, I'm bored and tired and have recently come to the realization that all time is fleeting and hazbin hotel has yet to release their first episode
So to cope, I've written more yandere alastor x reader cus I can
This one is romantic btw, set during alastor's life
Tw: Attempted Rape, murder, and gore
Part 2 here
His Darling Doe
Recently, a quaint little diner opened across the street from Alastor's radio station
It was quite convenient to him, not as out-of-the-way as his usual preferred spot
So he started going to the diner every morning for a cup of joe
You were rather new in town, and had been looking for a job after having just finished moving in
So you applied for a waitress position at the new diner, and got the job
Because you were new, you didn't recognize Alastor as a famous radio host
To you, he was just your average handsome fella
Rather coincidentally, Alastor would find himself at the same table every morning, which just so happened to be in your section
You introduced yourself to him, pencil hovering over your notebook as you prepared to take his order
Much to Alastor's surprise (and slight relief) you didn't fangirl over him immediately
In fact, you treated him like you did any other customer
It was refreshing
Alastor ordered his coffee, while also sizing you up
You came very close to being his next victim
Not because he didn't like you
On contrary you amused him
Always having a snarky reply to his sarcastic remarks
He'd compliment you, and you'd compliment him back
He ended up spending and hour longer at the diner then he should've chatting with you
Reluctantly he told you he had to go, but promised to see you again soon
He was sure to tip you on his way out
Later that night as Alastor was closing up the station he started thinking about you
You had perplexed him
You were one of the few humans that he found entertaining
At least, one of the few humans that didn't need to be brutally murdered in order to find entertaining
He had found himself entranced when speaking with you earlier, he just knew he needed more
So after that night he would always show up early at the diner, hours before his shift at the radio station, and simply talk with you
At first you had been weirded out by his constant presence each morning
But over time you grew to look forward to your meetings
You even developed a crush on him
Now, having lived in new Orleans long enough, you obviously new of it's infamous serial killer
Most of everything you knew came from Alastor's talk show
During one of your early morning meet ups with Alastor, you confessed your deep fear of the killer to him, while also expressing concern for both of y'all's safety
Alastor found this to be very endearing and somewhat amusing (though he didn't let the latter show)
He claimed immediately after you spoke that he would do everything in his power to keep you out of harms way
So after that Alastor would walk you home from your job every night
However one night Alastor got held up at the station, leaving you to walk home, alone
You had walked home by yourself plenty of times before, but tonight was different
As you left the diner you felt a strange sense of foreboding
While walking home you felt grimy old hand roughly grab you wrist and yank you into the alleyway
You opened you mouth to call for help, but before you could make a noise your assailant smashed his lips into yours
You thrashed in his grip and were able to get your mouth free of his
Before you could continue to fight back you heard a zipping sound and realized with dread what this man intended
However, before he could get any further something crashed into him and pinned him to the ground
Immediately you scrambled a few feet away, eyes wide as you realized just who had saved you
Alastor pinned the old man to the ground and ruthlessly stabbed the man over and over, until the walls were covered in scarlet
Quickly, you shuffled backwards, still on the ground, in an attempt to get away
Unfortunately for you, Alastor heard you and snapped his head in your direction, maniacal grin now etched in his face
He kept towards you and pinned you to the ground, similarly to how he had pinned your now dead assailant
You closed your eyes tightly, and flinched away when you felt his hot breath on your neck
You had gotten a glimpse of the body lying a few feet away from you, and had quickly realized that Alastor was the very killer you were so scared of
You were expecting the sharp and painful feeling of a knife being plunged in your chest
So when you instead felt soft kisses along you collar bone, you couldn't help but involuntarily flinch
You felt Alastor pause his gentle touched, as he climbed off of you and pulled you into his lap on the floor
"My darling Doe, are you alright?"
You heard him ask gently
To scared to talk, you managed only a stiff nod
You heard a soft chuckle come from him, as he stood up and carried you bridal style out of the alley, and towards the bayou
You felt the cool night air hit you, and shivered
You could feel your shock slowly wearing off, yet couldn't stop trembling, knowing that you were in the arms of a killer
Alastor felt you trembling in his arms, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your soft hair
"I have you, you're safe now, my dear,"
You heard him whisper into your hair
Eventually you reached a cabin deep within the swamp
Alastor kicked the door open and carried you upstairs into his bedroom
He gently put you down on the bed, before kissing your forehead and leaving, being sure to lock the door behind him
Once you were alone you curled up on the corner of the bed, and cried
You don't know what exactly about, all you knew was that your head was to full of emotion and shock to think clearly
So you cried yourself to sleep
When you woke up you were in the same bed, but in a clean sleeping gown
With Alastor curled up around you
At first you simply nuzzled closer, feeling Alastor tighten his arms around you
Then you noticed the blood stain on his sleeve, and suddenly all your memories of the previous night came crashing back
You jumped out of the bed and ran to the door, yanking on the doorknob, only to find it locked
Suddenly, you felt a warm, broad chest press against your back, and strong arms around your waist
A few months ago you'd've been delighted to be in this situation
Now though, you were petrified
"Wherever do you think your going, my darling Doe?"
You heard Alastor say softly behind you
"You're home now, safe and sound with me. Where you belong~"
Love me some unhinged Alastor
Might do part two, idk yet
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missmeinyourbones · 5 months
Text
HOOKED ON HER FLESH
cw: afab!reader, fingering, pussy job, penetrative sex, pet names used (pretty girl, baby, etc), suckin and fuckin in the bath, raw fucking but this is not real so practice safe sex my friends
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The click of the front door is dull, and Rintaro can feel the burn in his calves when he bends down to place his gym bag beside the few pairs of tossed shoes by the entryway.
If you were on the couch like he'd half expected you to be, you'd scold him for leaving it there knowing one of you always trips over it. But you're not.
It's late, almost 11 PM when he returns home from a long day of training. The apartment is dim and oddly still when he weakly calls out to address his presence. With still no answer, he makes his way down the dark hallway with nothing but the kitchen light illuminating the space.
The second place he checks is the bedroom.
Weirdly enough, you're not there either. But before he even gets the opportunity to worry, he spots an outline of light shining through the closed bathroom door in his peripheral.
Quietly entering the bathroom, he's not all that surprised to find you sponging in the water, eyes closed and hair carelessly clipped up.
You're not asleep—he can tell by your breathing. He notes the glass of red slightly sipped on as it balances on the back ledge of the toilet.
He leans against the door frame, admiring you while he can before you shy away and refuse to let him. It's somewhat muggy in the room from the steam, and he gathers that you've been marinating for a while based on the drops of sweat beading in your supple creases and cleavage.
When the nippy draft of the open door finally makes its way to you, you crack your eyes open and jump a bit at the unexpected figure in the doorway.
Your face cushions a bit when you realize it's him, "God, you scared me. When did you get home?"
"Just now," he placates, making his way over to kneel beside you at the edge of the tub. That singeing ache returns in his calves, but he doesn't seem to care when he's this close to you, counting the steam droplets adorning your cheeks and eyelashes.
You're heavy with sleep when you reach for him, "How was practice?"
He hums in acknowledgment, letting his thumb trace your jaw in a gentle touch.
"Nothin' special," he shakes his head before smiling a bit at your drowsy murmurs. "Tired, baby?"
You nod along against his hand, "A little, yeah."
Opening your eyes, you admire your lover; he's tired too, the subtle lines of worry and fatigue marking his handsome face. Your eyes flicker to his blunt bangs, damp and sticking to his forehead.
Your fingers find them easily, brushing them off of his eyebrows and causing him to crinkle his nose. "You already showered?"
"Yeah," it's his turn to close his eyes. "Took a quick one before I left. Figured it was easier."
You seem pleased with his answer as you relax further into the water. "Good, 'cause I really didn't wanna have to get out."
He shakes his head in amusement, fingertips gently caressing your eyebrows and lids when he asks, "Why're you even in here?"
"What do you mean?"
"You only take baths if you're like, stressed or something."
"Not really stressed," you breathe, though the sigh entwined in your words betrays your point, "just wanted to relax a bit. Feel like I've been a bit wound up these past few days."
Rintaro nods but bites his tongue. His mind filters through the handful of times you've been a bit snippy with him this week. When he forgot to take out the trash and you called him annoying. When his shower went on just a few minutes too long, leaving the hot water merely lukewarm and you cursing at him. Just this morning, when the two of you were buzzing around the kitchen preparing for your days—he used the last of the milk in his coffee and didn't write it down on the grocery list, resulting in a glare from you and a passive-aggressive nudge towards the notepad on the counter.
As if noting the gears turning in his head, you whisper above the sound of water gently sloshing beneath you as you readjust your legs over the side of the tub.
"I'm sorry I've been kind of a bitch."
Rintaro chuckles and it sounds like love. His tone is light and airy when he squeezes your hand in solidarity, "I like you a little bitchy."
You roll your eyes, though both of you know it's harmless, and a warming silence comfortably overtakes your tiny apartment bathroom.
Rintaro thinks he's subtle, and maybe he is to anyone who isn't you, but you know him, and you know that his tender touches trailing from your hand to your leg are filled with both love and something a bit more desperate.
"So," his hand slowly caresses your damp leg as it dangles outside of the water, "wound up, huh?"
A glare is sent his way but the smiling pulling at your lips encourages him.
"Can I help?" His thumb applies some pressure to your calf, rubbing slow circles to the tender muscle and ears perking up at your soft sighs.
"You don't have to, you're probably tired and—”
He interrupts your weak restraint with a rough whisper against your cold ankle, "I'm never too tired to make you cum, let's get that straight."
He hears you kiss your teeth as his vulgarity, "I'm just saying, I'm okay."
And Rintaro does what he does best, and doesn't take no for an answer.
"Well, what if I want to?" he purrs against your skin, "What about my needs?"
"Your needs of making me cum?" you scoff behind a smirk.
"Exactly."
Sitting up a bit to better see you, he prompts you to uncross your legs with a gentle pry of his hand. You obey and spread yourself against the front of the bath, heels against the sides of the cold ceramic as he slips a sluggish hand between your thighs.
He can feel the slick already forming submerged in the water as he teases an experimental finger through your folds. Taking his sweet time, he brings his thumb to brush against your untouched clit, and grins like a wolf when you whimper and jolt at the slight friction.
You hear Rintaro laugh through his nose. "Yeah, you're okay?" he smugly prompts.
You close your eyes at the feeling, too needy to care about his mocking, "Shut up."
You can't see his smirk but you know it's there all the same. He plays with you without any urgency, mindlessly enjoying rolling your nub between his pointer and thumb, greedily inhaling each and every one of your gasps and mewls.
Once he's pleased with his mess of you, he allows a fingertip to just barely dip inside of your heat. Painfully slow and deliberate, he lets it barely sink into you before it pulls itself out, repeating the movement slowly.
He's fucking with you openly, giving you a sinful taste of the feeling you're addicted to without any actual benefits of it. You know he wants you to break, and you can't even bring yourself to put up a fight with your dwindling restraint slipping through your pruney fingers.
With a prod of his finger that goes just slightly deeper than the rest, you whine in frustration and reach for his arm.
"Rin," your hand wraps around his flexed bicep, to both steady yourself and prompt him to do more.
He ignores your pleas, continuing to give you just enough to squirm and thrash at his repeated actions. He knows your lack of patience at his hand—if he hadn't made you so greedy, you'd just take what he gives you.
But Rintaro learned long ago that he's a weak man when it comes to you. He's always going to give you exactly what you want—he's just going to be annoying about it first.
He lets it continue for a bit longer before you finally whine and dig your nails into his bicep.
"Stop—fucking doing that…need—” your words falter into tiny little whimpers as he continues a steady pulse on your clit.
"Need?" his eyebrows raise in a delight that mimics the devil.
You go to close your legs in instinct, but Rintaro's free hand uses its palm to hold you open. The still water in the bath splashes against your movements as your chest heaves with a need that he's not even close to giving you.
Somewhere between mocking and comforting, he tuts and coos at your frustration. His fingers stay steady as he kisses your neck, licking the sweat mixed with citrus-scented salt from your relaxation.
He taunts, "Gotta use your words, pretty."
"Need you," crawls pathetically from your throat, "you asshole."
Rintaro smiles, baring fangs you're not one hundred percent sure are actually there or not. For once, he says nothing as he finally sinks a full finger into your eager cunt.
You gasp at the pressure and he follows suit, almost mimicking your hiccups and whimpers as if he too feels what you feel. With every exhale of yours, he's unashamed in inhaling the sweet sounds, trying to savor them by tasting them for his own.
One finger turns to two, and time doesn't exist as you're rocking against his palm and losing yourself between the splashing water and his mouth on your neck.
"Look at you," he presses kisses anywhere he can, "my pretty baby."
I'm—fuck," your legs try to jostle shut again but they're unsuccessful as Rintaro continues his pace.
"It's okay," he sweetly mocks your shaky attempts to reach your high. His teeth move to sink into the outside of your thigh when he tells you, "Just relax for me."
Feeling you clench around him in a manner that's far too familiar, he changes his movements in a way he knows gets you there every time. Curling his fingertips upwards and lingering a bit too long against that spongey ribbed spot inside of you, you nearly jump out of the water at the harsh sensation.
Suna laughs, holding you down as your nails sink into his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself.
He continues against your feeble tries, mentally checking all of the boxes for when he knows you're about to lose it. When you get to the babbling nonsense and begging for quite literally nothing stage, he decides it's time.
A gentle kiss prods against your temple, "Talk to me, pretty."
"Feels good—so fucking good, I—” Your back arches and flexes against the water, desperately trying to reach your approaching high.
"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes through a smile.
You can't speak, nodding furiously and mindlessly as you feel yourself reach your peak. The churning inside of you unravels like a wave, and you can feel your hips bucking themselves upwards without meaning to for the sake of release.
Your lover doesn't let up, rubbing and curling and cooing you through your high. You don't even hear him, can barely feel him anymore as he milks you for all he can before giving you a break and moving his loving touches to your legs and neck.
"Feelin' good?" he's out of breath from watching you perform for him.
Between how tired you were before, let alone how hard he'd just fucked you on his fingers, he expects you to be spent. He's undeniably hard—only human, after all—but with the way your eyes can barely stay open, he mentally plans to get you settled in bed before leaving himself quickly and joining you.
But he's never been more willing to be wrong when you whisper against his bicep, planting wet and messy kisses across his skin in an attempt (as if one was even needed) to persuade him.
He can feel you beam against his skin when you mewl and pant, "Think I need the real thing now."
"The real thing?" his voice octaves in a condescending sweetness.
You're pulling at his cloth-covered torso when you groan, "You know what I mean."
"That wasn't real? You left fucking crescents on my wrist—”
"Rin," you cut him off with a groan, looking up at him all teary and needy and so fucking pretty he thinks he could cry. "Please?"
You watch his chest inflate with a sharp inhale as his eyes rake over your malleable form. His tongue skims his canine when he chuckles and shakes his head.
"Fuck you."
He's undressed and on top of you in the water within seconds.
"Condom?" he heaves into your neck, practically swallowing you whole between breathy groans.
He feels you shake your head and he kisses his teeth in aggravation. "What'd I say about words, baby?"
"No," you nearly hiss, before following it up with a velvety, "just wanna feel you this time, please."
Rintaro groans into your chest and subconsciously bucks his hips against you, "Fuck, okay. Okay, baby."
He takes his time when lining himself up with you, letting his pink tip acquaint itself with your puffy folds like it's the first time. He feels a pull inside of him that egnites when he realizes, it's not the first time, and over his dead body will there ever be a last.
He watches beneath the water as his pre-cum smears itself all over your pussy, sticky and webbed as it dissolves under the water. He flicks himself across your clit, tapping heavily against you when you softly cry at the sensitivity. He lets out sounds of amusement at your feeble protests.
"Don't—” you hiccup as he runs his shaft between your folds, "—be a dick."
"Shut up," he quickly kisses your lips, "I got you—"
As he breathes, he unhurriedly sinks himself into you, relishing in the way you both inhale one another at the stretch. Breathing in one another's gasps and shivers, he lets himself ease in and out of you until he's completely bottomed out and pressing his weight onto your abdomen to hear you shiver.
It's all sweaty kisses and desperate licks as you meet his movements, pulling as he pushes and taking everything one another can offer. And it is everything—you'd never give anything less.
You can tell he's slowly losing his composure, but he does a good job of keeping up with his long and intentional strokes. He means to leave no inch of you untouched, wants you to remember the feeling every time he's away and you find your hand snaking its way between your legs.
"I love you," falls from your lips like the wine you neglected from the untouched glass that sits a few feet from you. And Rintaro swallows it greedily, tastes its rich red and white and pink before spewing it right back for you to keep as your own.
His thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he feels himself reaching the brink of his climax. "I love you, shit—love you, I love you."
He comes in bursts of heat and desperation, and with a few more needy strokes and circles on your clit, you follow suit behind him. Spent and sticky with cramping limbs in your tiny tub, Rintaro coddles you through shaky whimpers and sore muscles.
"So fuckin' pretty," he breathes between kisses, to you or himself, he doesn't think he'll ever know the difference. "My baby."
Touches turn lazy and tender, and breathing is now slow and steady when Rintaro adjusts himself with a groan and sits upwards. He reaches for your unattended wine glass, taking a strong swig and raising his eyebrows in jest when you roll your eyes and laugh at him.
He then holds it to your lips, gently leaning your jaw back as you take a sip of your own. You swear that his eyes have stars in them, and while you don't know it, yours gape the same right back at him.
Sinking into the water on the opposite end of the cramped bathtub, he grabs your leg and hooks it upon his shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss to your ankle before letting his head loll to the side.
"This water's fucking freezing now," he mumbles, eyes closed.
But his spirits lift when he hears you giggle at his declaration, opening his eyes and smiling behind a scowl to catch you lazily tossing your head back in amusement.
"It was nice before you got in," you shrug, rubbing your ankle against his ear just to watch him whine at the motion, "so it must just be you."
Rintaro hums in faux agreement, turning to weakly gnaw on your calf before kissing the crescents indented from his front teeth.
"Keep it up and I'll keep your pruney ass right here all night."
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izvmimi · 11 months
Text
you've woken up suddenly, not quite in a true stupor, but somehow everything feels wrong, down to the very first draw of air into your lungs that feels strange, foreign to you somehow.
your waking position is also slightly... off. you're on your side as usual, but there's something pressing gently against your back, enough that you're shifted forward just a few degrees - a pillow? no, because the surface rises and falls with breathing like gently sloping waves.
your eyes haven't opened yet. something tickles at your neck, a soft exhale. something heavy rests over your hip, an arm that holds you close. your sheets are unfamiliar to you, finer and softer to your skin than the very timeworn ones on your bed (even if they are your favorites).
the room is still somewhat dimly lit, but you can tell by the interspersed light and shadows dancing on the wall ahead of you that it is morning and you are not in your own bedroom. another thing glitters as your eyes focus, something shiny and conspicuous on your left hand...
... the ring finger.
a ring.
your breath catches in your throat, your heart missing one, maybe two beats. now with your heart pounding with the same frenzy of a trapped rabbit, you turn gingerly in bed, slowly enough as to not wake up the body behind you. you don't really have to turn; you already know, your brain has put two and two together, and yet, you must, to confirm what you've already deduced.
you face your newly minted husband, handsome features still softened in slumber and head tilted downwards in your direction, fingers twitching gently in his sleep in response to your movement. you are perfectly still as marble as your eyes trace the curve of his slightly parted lips, the tousled stands of white hair. when you're up this close, it's easier to remind yourself that he isn't as perfect as he projects in his waking life, it's easier to think of him as vulnerable.
let's do something crazy, he'd told you the night before.
the remainder of the night was a whirlwind. passion, pleasure, too many drinks, too many heart to hearts, too many snap decisions - everything you've denied yourself for months to years compressed over the course of one night, now culminating in this very moment, settled comfortably in his embrace.
"satoru," you whisper.
his eyes open in what seems like an instant, a wash of light blue, serene yet expansive like a cloudless sky.
he whispers your name back, instead of a hello, shifting forward to kiss the top of your head. it's too early for him to annoy you. it's too early for you to regret your decision, if you ever do.
you have a lifetime together to decide.
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strawbsstarz · 2 months
Text
Drunk: Draco Malfoy x reader
kind of rushed but I was inspired
warning: none just fluff :)
~
2:30 am, the phone rings. Ring Ring! Draco groans at the noise, tossing in his bed, his peaceful slumber disrupted. He was about to turn his phone on silent when he caught a glimpse from his squinted eyes at the caller.
"Hello..?" He greets groggily, sleep still present.
The other line is silent, "...Hello?" He mutters again. *Hiccups* Draco, confused, takes his phone off his ear to check if the call was still there. As he was about to start talking again, the other line finally speaks.
"DrACoOo!" A burst of giggles following.
"Y/N?" He rubs his eyes trying to get rid of his tiredness, "..are you drunk?"
Another hiccup, "let's facetimeee...I missed youu~"
"Do you want me to come over?" He asks prompting himself up on his elbows.
"No!" Followed by another hiccup, "it's cold out."
"You're outside?" The sleepiness, no longer present, he gets up quickly and rushes to the front door while on the phone with her, "Who are you with? Where are you?"
The call echoes with giggles, "I don't know...I'm losttttt"
Draco falls into a panicked state, why was she drunk all alone in the middle of the night? "Stay on the phone with me, princess, okay? I'm coming right now."
He hears her giggle and hiccuping not giving a clear answer, he quickly checks her location and jogs over since it's nearby.
"Ooh Kitty!" Y/N exclaims excitedly, *hiccups* The phone can be heard falling on the ground, Y/N scooping the cat up in her arms, "Wanna comee home wit me?"
Sprinting now, he says "You're joking right?"
Draco sees Y/N hovered around a corner by a wall holding up a cat and petting it. He hears the cat's purr and meow on the phone. Despite being out of breath, he rushes to her.
Before he could scold her, Y/N puts down the cat and sprints to Draco engulfing him in a hug, "Draco!"
He wraps his arm around her waist, while the other is trying to keep her steady in her stance. As Y/N pulls away she excitedly does small jumps pointing to the cat,
"Look Draco!" She goes back to the cat scooping it in her arms, "Can we keeep him?"
A little taken aback, he shakes his head slightly, "No, Y/N, we're not keeping him, you're drunk right now."
"bUT he's so preciousss," she smiles as she pets the cat, "who's a good kitttyy?"
Draco sighs, "No, Y/N we can't keep a cat.."
She pouts at him, and as if the cat followed in her suit, meows and ironically, gives big puppy dog eyes at the boy.
"Fine, fine!" He reluctantly agrees, "Let's get you home okay, hold my hand so you don't fall"
While the two walked home together, Y/N still visibly drunk starts talking to the cat, "I'm gonna feed you soooo much food and loveee you and snuggle wiht you!"
Draco, slightly annoyed but finds it adorable, shakes his head as he grips tighter on his hold of her hand, "Hold tightly, Y/N, we can't have you tripping and falling here."
Y/N slowly trying to understand the situation, let's go of Draco's hand, "Umm excuse you! I have a boyfriend!" She states with her eyes half open.
In disbelief, Draco just stands there, "....I am your boyfriend."
Tilting her head, she asks, "What's your name?"
"Draco.."
"Prove it!"
He pinches the bridge of his nose, she's gonna be the death of me, "Love, I need you to hold my hand until we get home."
Y/N shakes her head, pouting "I can walk perfectly fine by myself! Plus, my boyfriend would get upset if he saw me with you, he'd definitely kick your ass!"
Draco puts his hand on his hip, "First off, you were stumbling and tripping over yourself a minute ago. Second, I am your boyfriend."
Y/N giggles as she stares at his face, going closer, "You look like him.."
He sighs.
"But he's soOO much more handsome *hiccups*"
"Are you trying to flirt with me right now?" He questions, somewhat amused.
"No! I wouldn't dare cheat!!" She says clutching the cat closer to her as it meows, as if it was agreeing.
Another sigh, Draco grabs Y/N's face in his hands, "Y/N, look at me."
With half lidded eyes, she looks at him, tilting her head in confusion, before getting into another set of giggles.
"Focus on my eyes, darling." Following his instructions, she does as she's told, mumbling grey.
"Good, now look at my hair." With one hand holding the cat, she lightly combs her fingers through his hair, "it looks blonde? noo! platinum?? Final ANSwer!"
He chuckles, "Now who am I?" He asks. Her eyes move their way down on his face, admiring and analyzing their features, before landing on his lips, tracing her fingers softly.
After a moment of staring she pulls away to sneeze, "Achoo!" She breaks out in a fit of laughter once again, and this time Draco joins her.
"Draco!" She finally recognizes him, "I missed you!" She pecks his lips.
Draco blushes slightly, but chuckles to himself as he pulls her closer to him guiding her once more to go home, along with their new cat.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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poly marauders eating reader out for the first time!! it’s such an intimate, vulnerable act so readers probably nervous. as much as they’d be sweet and soft and stuff, i think they’d be fighting a bit with each other to actually get at you first, like usually they’re so good at sharing and it comes naturally, but with this they just can’t come to a conclusion because this is eating you out, and you’ve never done it before and you seem to be really curious and kinda needy for the experience (this could be amplified if they kinda only just started the sexual side of their relationship, and it’s the next big step for u before actual sex yk)
james ofc swears up and down it SHOULD be him bc it’s his passion not his hobby, he’s been dreaming of it, but remus makes the argument that he’s the most dominant (?) over you, so you’d feel more comfy with him doing it, but then sirius is like >:( my face is pretty, you really wanna deprive her of that view???? for her first time as well, you monsters
babe the day you stop sending me these is the day i'll quit tumblr. you're a treasure i hope you know that <33
this post is 18+, minors dni.
!!!!! no because you're probably really nervous !!! maybe it's your first time altogether, or just with them, but either way it's scary !!! what if you smell weird, what if you taste weird, what if you cum too fast, what if you can't cum at all, what do you do!!!!!! remus probably feels your heartbeat going crazy when he braces a hand on your chest to lean down and kiss you where you're laying back on the bed but he misinterprets it, just chuckles and goes 'excited, hm?' and you don't know how to tell him that you're actually scared he's going to be repulsed by you :(( you just sort of stutter an mhm and when James tries parting your thighs from where he's kneeling at the edge of the bed you tense up, and that's when they start wondering if something's wrong.
"Pet," Sirius croons, stroking a patch of skin over your upper thigh, "What's'a matter, hm?"
and maybe it's James's puppy eyes, maybe it's remus's soft touch on your waist as he helps you sit up, or maybe it's sirius still petting over your thigh, but they manage to get it out of you that you're nervous!! you don't want them to get grossed out!!
i do think sirius would laugh. not at you, not to be mean, but he's just so flabbergasted by the thought of you thinking he could ever be disgusted by your cunt that he probably snorts, and james and remus have to overcompensate like nono darling he's not laughing at you! we just- we don't really know why you'd think that, 's ridiculous, we could never be grossed out by you. promise.'
maybe james offers you a pinky, to swear on the fact that he'll never be repulsed by you, and then it comes down to the matter of who gets to have the first taste.
sirius insists that he should, to make up for the little scare he caused by laughing, and, of course, like you mentioned, to give you the most handsome view you'll ever see.
james begs for it to be him because c'mon, you know him, he loves body worship! and what better for your first time than slow, soft, and sweet, plus he's already got his chin resting on your tummy and he's pressing soft little kisses to the skin there just in case it'll help sway you into letting him to the same to your clit :]
remus still has a hand on your waist, now he's sitting beside you, and he leans in to kiss your jaw with this gorgeous throaty little hum. he noses at your ear, murmurs 'or me, darling? 've always been good at keeping you calm, yeah? 'think you could use a little bit of a leader here'.
James is >:O because what !!! he's a leader !!! he'd guide you through it!!! but remus says 'you'll melt in there, prongs' and everyone knows he's not wrong.
i'll leave this open to reader interpretation, somewhat of a choose-your-own-adventure story, but just know whichever two you don't choose to go first will occupy themselves with your tits or your mouth, and they'll all get a turn eventually, so you're in for a long night <3
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