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#i hope you enjoy it anon!
Note
27 with Agatha and whoever you want?
Thank you for sending this in, dear anon! I enjoyed writing for this prompt, it gave me the opportunity to write for an idea that's been bouncing around my head for months now.
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"It aches, so deeply. I ache, so deeply. And when I'm with you, I don't. I feel whole. Complete." You fidget with your hands as you admit, "I feel your absence in everything that I do alone, in every place I go without you. I always have, ever since we met."
Agatha looks away from your eyes, as if it's painful to see how earnest and truthful you're being.
"I'm not good for you, buttercup." Her tone is flat, which means she's desperately trying to hide behind the mask that always seemed to be so flimsy when it's just the two of you. "I've changed. You've been gone for a long time."
"That wasn't my fault."
Agatha closes her eyes for a brief moment as she lets out a long breath. "I never said it was."
"Then why are punishing me for something I couldn't help? I never wanted to leave. I didn't get a choice when-"
"I know." A crack, finally. A weakness.
"Is that what this is about? Did you think that she sent me away from you for my own good?"
"Yes." Suddenly Agatha's eyes are boring into the depths of your soul, blue fire alight from within. "Why else would she have done that? She approved of us being together, goddess knows it's about the only thing she approved of when it came to me, and she didn't-" She breaks off, cuts herself short. "She didn't send you away until she realized I had been practicing dark magic." Agatha's voice is small, and in a single instant she seems to have shrunk, curling in on herself as if making herself smaller would protect her from things that have long since came to pass.
"She didn't just snap her fingers, Agatha." You say. "She made sure to go into excruciating detail about her reasoning behind her decision. How it's my fault, because I was supposed to encourage you to be a better person, to shun what came so naturally to you it was like denying you air when you tried to avoid it. How in actively giving you a safe space to find someone to love you, even if you practiced and became versed in the unthinkable, I condemned us both." You shake your head, a small, hysterical laugh bubbling up. "She knew then. She knew she was going to try to kill you. And she tried to lay the blame at my feet, telling me if I hadn't changed your perspective on that of which was forbidden, she'd never had to take such drastic measures."
"It doesn't change anything." Agatha insists.
"Of course it does." You snap. "Don't tell me you're allowing your long dead mother to manipula-"
"It's not manipulation when it was the truth!" Agatha's voice rings in the sudden silence. "Mother was right. I can't possibly be good, not when my magic finds it's call in such twisted vileness. You think you know, but you don't. We were young, hopeful and idealistic, but above all else, exceedingly stupid." The last word is spat out, disgust dripping from it. "I have killed more people than the years that have passed for you. I have harmed innocents and sown discord and ruin. You don't get to tell me that I can be good when I've long since fulfilled Mother's prophecy about me." Agatha then holds up long, black stained fingers.
"Fine, then." You say. "You're bad. Congratulations, you have as much of a moral back bone as a chocolate eclair. Guess what, dumbass? That still isn't a good enough reason for me to walk away from you."
Agatha opens her mouth, then shuts it, before opening it again.
"I'm walking away from you." She says, stumbling over the words.
"No, you're not." You sigh. "Agatha, admit it. You can't help but want me to stay, but you're so fucked up, you don't think you deserve anything good. But you can't make a decision for me."
Agatha's eyes are suddenly like steel. "Of course I can. I'm telling you, I don't want to have anything further to do with you."
You can tell she wants it to hurt, and it does, but the fact she hasn't just teleported away betrays her. That and-
"Then why did you fuck me the night I returned?"
Agatha colors.
"A moment of weakness and poor judgment."
You smirk. "Oh, yes. Because you and I both know how deeply you regret having mind blowing sex."
"I-" Agatha looks away, swallowing. "That's not fair."
"You're not being fair." You step closer to her, gently reaching out for her arms. "Agatha," you say softly. "I love you. It's that simple. And you can turn me away, you can never see me again, but that won't change how I feel about you. The only thing your denying us is going to cause is pain, for both sides."
And suddenly, her head thunks down onto your shoulder, her hands coming up to clutch at your shirt material.
"It's not fair." She whispers. "I'm trying to protect you."
"Can't you see?" You beg. "You don't have to push me away to protect me. All I want is for you to allow yourself to love me back."
Her hands tighten and her shoulders shake, and you know she's fighting back tears if she hasn't already lost to them.
"I do love you." Her voice is wet, burdened. "That's why I can't-"
"You can."
Silence follows your declaration.
"Please, Agatha. I don't think-" Your voice breaks. "I don't think I can survive without you anymore."
There's more silence, until-
"If I ever hurt you, in any way, I need you to be able to protect yourself from me."
You open your mouth to protest, but then shut it, thinking about what Agatha is offering.
You hesitate.
"Perhaps," you start. "It would better if we simply agreed to essentially start over. Relearn one another."
Agatha pulls away, and it's then your realize as cool air hits the wet patch on your shoulder that she had been silently crying the entire time she had her head buried against you, though there's no trace of tears anywhere on her face.
"I need you to promise me you'll learn how to protect yourself and demonstrate your willingness to first." She replies firmly.
"From you."
"Yes." She pauses. "I'm dangerous, angel. It's just a fact. My greatest fear is losing control of myself and harming you. I need the reassurance that you won't let me if I try."
"Oh."
When she puts it like that...
"I suppose I could agree to that."
Her entire body sags with relief.
"Thank you." She roughly whispers, before giving into what you both desire, yanking you by your shirt, pulling you into a searing kiss, sealing your agreement.
"I love you." She says against your lips.
"And I, you." You reply, before kissing her once more.
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cabezadeperro · 2 years
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Hi🤗 I was wondering if #24 for Fox/Wolffe or Scorch/Sev interests you at all??
hi anon! i went with scorchsev. the prompt was whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin. 465w, M to be safe, established relationship (to a degree lmao), almost getting caught while together feat. sev's complicated everything.
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The door at the end of the corridor slides open with a squeak of rusty durasteel, and Scorch twitches. Sev freezes with his hands down his brother’s blacks and his mouth on Scorch’s neck, pulse beating madly under the skin.
Scorch curses. He steps away, wildly looking around, listening to the brother’s footsteps—plastoid, heavy and quiet despite its weight, the cadence familiar as their own heartbeats.
It might be Boss. Sev’s not sure, and that’s what has his heart trying its very best to break out from his own chest and his palms slick with sweat.
He pulls Scorch into the first open door he finds—dark room, narrow and damp; storage cupboard?—and then his brother’s closing the door again, his chest against Sev’s back and Sev stuck between a pile of durasteel crates and the wall, his shoulders almost too wide to fit. Sev closes his eyes and inhales shakily, and he feels more than hears Scorch sigh. Scorch looks for his hand in the dark, but Sev moves away, tries and fails to fold his arms. He lets his head drop until his forehead rests on the pocky surface of the duracrete wall of the base in front of him; when he breathes out, he can smell himself, old caf and the bitter-sour aftertaste of the stims.
The brother’s steps come closer to their hiding place, and then they—stop. Someone sighs, and they move on. Sev swallows, and at his back Scorch exhales. He lets more of his weight rest on Sev.
His half-hard dick is right against Sev’s ass, and when Scorch leans further into Sev’s space, Sev can’t help the shiver that rolls down his spine. He swallows hard, mouth dry. Scorch’s lips against his ear make him jump: Sev can’t help the bitten down sigh that makes it through his gritted teeth.
“He’s gone,” Scorch says, too loud in the dark. Sev scowls. It’s an invitation: to either keep on doing what they were doing or stop altogether.
He just can’t tell which it is. He can feel Scorch’s clever fingers picking at the seam of his blacks, dancing over his hips.
Sev’s heart is still beating hard inside his chest, and his head feels muzzy, too full and to quick, and he just doesn’t know—he needs time to think, he needs space, but he feels himself leaning back against Scorch in the dark, his eyes closed tight and Scorch’s mouth still touching him, brushing his jaw, warm and wet on Sev’s neck. 
Scorch grins against Sev’s skin, wild and wide, and Sev reaches out to tangle a hand in his curls, just over regulation length, relishing in their familiar heavy warmth, and Scorch’s fingers slip under his waistband, and Sev’s quicksilver fears die a quiet death in the dark.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month
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Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(
But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌
That would be so sweet thank you’!!
this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3
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BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!
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it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.
you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.
except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.
you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.
your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.
since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.
your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”
you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.
“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.
you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.
you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.
“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.
your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,
and then his eyes open.
he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.
his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you
"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"
he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.
he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"
"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.
"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."
"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.
“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.
he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.
you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.
he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"
"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.
he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."
"katsuki, you need—"
"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.
it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.
"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.
once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.
he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.
"come over here." he whines petutalanty.
you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.
just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.
it’s your katsuki.
“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.
you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.
it’s your katsuki, alright.
it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.
“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.
“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.
"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.
neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.
"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.
he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.
"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.
“was worried about you, you know.”
your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.
"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.
"i heard you really did a number on him."
"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.
you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."
katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.
"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."
"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.
"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”
your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.
but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.
you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.
and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.
not yet.
you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.
not yet.
finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.
"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.
“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”
you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.
“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.
“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.
this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.
you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.
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hansoeii · 1 year
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the steard is making a return!
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faetreides · 3 days
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Would modern!coryo like being called daddy? Like reader is all dumb from him overstimulating them and it just slips out.. how would he react?
This is so me, like i’m scared of this happening. no one has made me cum tho so i’m probably safe
╰ • ✫ - ❛LILY OF THE VALLEY!❜ ✎ᝰ.
cw: daddy kink, typical coryo warnings, reader is so baby in this and he’s so bf like 😖, school stress, cunnilingus like he EATS you out to the bone fr, pain play, mentions of blood kink and piss kink, pet play coded, unedited porn for the soul, afab reader, THIS ONE GOES TO OUT TO ALL MY FREAK MODERN!CORYO TRUTHERS, reader and coryo at their most real, pretentious use of latin pet names, hinted breeding kink
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You’ve been keeping it to yourself for so long, still wallowing in the idea that you should be shy about your kinks. You’ve never had a partner like Coryo before, you haven’t had a partner, period. Normally you just muffled it into a pillow while you fingered yourself to an unsatisfying orgsm and called it a day. But now you had an insatiable boyfriend with a sizable sadistic streak… among other things.
Are Daddy kinks the worst thing someone could be into? No, and you know that perfectly well. You also know that there’s enough stigma around it for you to keep it yourself. You didn’t need conversations about “daddy issues” or creepy men who assumed that that information gave the green light to do whatever they wanted to your body.
You had never admitted this to Coryo, but one of the reasons you were so nervous about your first time was because you knew it was only a matter of time before it slipped out. All the rumors and spilled stories from his past flings and hookups (things you prefer to not let get to you too much) made it even more clear that if anyone could drag that out of you, it was him.
It’s a miracle you didn’t blurt it out during your first time, you were so fucked out he could’ve told you that you said anything and you would’ve believed him. No, despite Coryo’s casual dominance that is apparent in how he pecks your lips after every bite you take from the fancy finger food held in his hands, your secret is kept safe.
That is… until the stress of assignments piling up builds up to a boiling point, and you’re left sobbing into your boyfriend’s chest.
“Shh, petal, get it all out.” He hums, slowly dragging his fingertips up and down your shaking back. “You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t calm down, baby. Let’s take some deep breaths, okay?”
“Okay..” You heave.
Coryo gently pulls your hair and directs your forehead to knock against his. It startles you out of your teary state for a moment, you blink in confusion and he chuckles. His eyes are so warm, they could set you on fire right there on his lap. His hold on your head doesn’t let up, and you sniffle as you place your hands on his chest.
He directs you to breathe with him, “One… two… three… four… hold it… now breathe out through your mouth, do that a few times with me, alright, dove?”
“One… two… three… four…” You repeat his words, which helps you center your focus on the pure love in Coryo’s stunning eyes.
After every set Coryo makes a childish ‘woosh’ sound, purposefully blowing hot air into your face. It has the intended result and he grins triumphantly at your watery giggles. Once he’s calmed you down enough, he’s leaping into action and raining down an army of kisses all over your cute face.
You’re too sensitive for it, but he wants to tease you for being “Daddy’s little crybaby” so fucking bad. This isn’t the moment though, perhaps when it’s something different, like tears of joy because of how much your engagement ring sparkles in the sunlight.
Yeah, he knew before you came right out and said it, have you forgotten who exactly you’ve promised your soul to? Don’t be silly.
After a certain point the sticky kisses become more and more heated, and by the time he reaches your lips he’s pressing your mouths together. Coryo slowly tilts your head to the side, opening up your mouth and lazily sucking your tongue. Like you always do, you start bucking your hips against his crotch in short and subconscious movements. He smirks into the kiss, pulling away to speak.
“I bet I know just the thing to get you all fixed up, huh petal?” He coos, nodding your head for you. “Come on then, up you go. Don’t trip on your way to the bedroom.”
That’s just the start of his well intentioned meanness, that and the spank he gives your ass as you obediently hop up from the couch and speed walk to the bedroom. You’ve gotten so thirsty for him in the months you’ve been together, he’s almost proud.
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t to feel your brain leaking out of your ears and Coryo’s pink tongue deep in your puffy pussy.
Your hips are kept pinned to the bed by his nails clawing into your flesh, you’re honestly surprised you haven’t started bleeding but you wouldn’t mind if you did. He jabs his tongue again and you squirm, attempting to kick your legs out on instinct. Coryo tightens his grip on your hips, smacking your inner thighs and digging his nails in your hips even further.
It’s his mission to tear you apart in any way possible, in every way. A small hidden part of you is soothed at the reminder that there are some things you never have to ask for. He already knows, he’s the best like that.
Coryo stops tongue fucking you to spit on your clit, staring all wide eyed and whorish up at you as he gives it little licks. You whine when he doesn’t adjust his slow pace, wishing you were in love with someone who didn’t like teasing you as much as he adored spoiling you rotten.
You ruffle his blonde curls, pouting and having a fit. He smacks your thighs harder and scratches lines down your legs as he purses his lips around your clit. He honest to god somehow laughs as he latches on the swollen bud and firmly sucks. In between sucks, his tongue roughly plays with your now throbbing clit, viciously slapping it around like it wants to beat it up.
“Fuck-fuck-uhhhhhhhhh-you’re gonna make me cum-Daddy-shit, yes-just like that, Daddy, just like that just like that-oh my god, Daddy!”
Your squealing makes him laugh again, and when he registers your slip up, he clutches onto you so hard his nails break skin and blood starts trickling down your body.
He pats the area where your womb is a couple times, a silent ‘Good dove’ that goes straight to your core. You’re lucky you aren’t ovulating right now, or the sheets would be even more soaked than they already are. His eyes narrow at the little pouch on your tummy and there’s the slightest hint of teeth in his sucking, but he backs off to spit on your dripping pussy again.
“Mmm-that’s all sweet pets need to do right? Lie back and drool from every hole for their Daddies?” He asks, nuzzling the patch of pubic hair at the top of your mound and taking a deep whiff.
And you’re so good for him, you don’t even need a warning glare or a fierce hit upside the ass.
“Yes-yes, Daddy-um-um- ‘m your bunny-all for you, Daddy.” You pant as you try to catch your breath.
“Glad you’re smart enough to know that, baby.” Coryo bites the skin over your womb, caressing the indents of his teeth. “Never have to doubt my intelligent little flower, do i?”
“Nuh uh, Daddy.” You shake your head in agreement so fast you get dizzy, and he smiles before bringing his attention back to your warm pussy.
He flattens his tongue and licks fat stripes over your folds like a wild animal giving his mate a tongue bath. Simultaneously meant to induce arousal and bring comfort to his partner. He winks at you several times and regularly darts up to french kiss your aching clit, burrowing his nose so deep in your slutty pussy.
The sensual nature of it has your eyes rolling back, and this time you’re the one being savage, your bedazzled extra long acrylics make a mess of his shoulders. He lets your trembling legs go, keeping you in place by his raw determination to literally eat your heart out. His curls bound and fly as he shakes his head vigorously, pushing your clit and hood back with his thumb so he can focus on slurping your slick from your hole like it’s his job.
“No no no-stop, please-fuck- ‘m gonna make a mess-feels like i have to pee, Daddy- shit shit-no, Daddy wait ‘M GONNA!-”
Your orgasm rudely cuts you off, and you gush on Coryo’s mouth. You always say shit like that when you squirt, but you never know when your boyfriend wants your words to be true. You squirt until you can’t hold yourself up anymore, and you collapse against the bed in a huff. Coryo laps up your release with his signature pleased grin, he’s so glad to put you in your place and give you what you deserve. Trust him, petal, he’ll never fail you when it comes to that.
You don’t speak, you’re still twitching and coming down from your euphoric high. Coryo lays his hands on either side of your head and cages you in, hovering above you and cooing loads of praises and sweet nothings into your sweaty hairline.
“How about it? Feeling any better, dove?” He gingerly delivers the question with a loose hand around your throat and a quick squeeze to your tit.
You lean into the barely there pressure on your throat, too out of it to be embarrassed, “Uh huh, thank you, Daddy. ‘Love you.”
“Oh you are so very welcome, mellilla (little honey). Daddy loves you too, more than your bunny brain could ever imagine, don’t you ever forget that.”
It's 2 am by the time you’ve come back to earth. Coryo makes you pancakes with your favorite strawberry syrup after you eagerly show him your appreciation in the shower. He wipes your mouth clean when you’re done with the star shaped pieces. You fall asleep during an elimination on MasterChef, but he’ll rewind it for you tomorrow.
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daisychainsandbowties · 4 months
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any avatrice recs :)))) have already read all your fics and now i am depression (genuinely daydream abt ur star wars au daily)
i could hype each of these fics individually but basically if it’s here i think it’s incredible and you have to read it 💖💖🥰
///
the sweetest taboo// 1930s au &
i know now what no angel knows// fallen angel au by @dumpsterfireofsubtext
indy au part 1 & part 2// or, ava peels an orange & makes me feel insane 🫠🫠🫠 by @estherthenormal
lemon drop boy// t boy ava au
lazarus woke with a kiss// scp/ lab rat ava au &
how to stitch holes in the sky// dragon age au, all by @the-darkness-does-not-bargain
teach me to love (as you have loved me)// this is. yeah. this is beautiful. newbea au by @birgittesilverbae (💖💖 ily)
beyond our space and starlight// eldritch au by @thistleation
escape attempt number whatever thousand, some hundred and four, probably// hades au by @foulbearobservation
do a flip// aikido gfs au by @sunsafewriting
if saints and angels spoke of love// (bea is a math teacher & ava’s basically the guy from dead poets society) by @mermaidandthedrunks
choose the devil i know (over the heaven i don’t)// firefighter au by @sapphicstacks
leave the light on (i’ll find my way home)// lighthouse au by @snowandwolves
on the run from a losing game// chef au by @fiddleabout
this must be the place// lumberjack au by @littledata
love thy neighbour// my fav roommates au. pokemon strap-on fic 😌🙏
turning sun into sugar, spinning straw into gold// pnw au by @gohandinhand
the world is just an illusion (trying to change you)// roadtrip au, &
a lover, or something of mine// reincarnation au by @smokestarrules
who needs comfortable love// sentient halo au by @the-ominous-owl
this celestial glow is blinding// firewatch au
the thought of high windows// 60s au
pull back the curtains for venus// alien bea au &
of greater marvels yet to be// fleabag au, all by @seabiscuits-us
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introspectivememories · 2 months
Text
mister lewis hamilton, sir, how are you gonna go on live television and talk about about how your karting days were the best times of your career and still never say nico's name? not once but multiple times??? oh you mean the karting your did with your childhood best friend nico rosberg? that karting? the karting where you met him? the karting where your families became friends? the karting where you spent months in italy together? the pizza eating contests and torn up hotel rooms? the frosties? the unicycling? that karting???? "i'm over the divorce," says man who is soo not over the divorce.
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inkykeiji · 5 months
Note
sukuna defo has a corruption/innocence kink!!!
he just really loves ruining pretty things. he loves smashing them beyond ‘repair’, smearing them with him and soiling them beyond recognition. he loves staining them with his teeth and his claws and his palms, leaving behind everlasting claims of ownership—things that can’t be scratched or scrubbed off, things that won’t heal, don’t heal, permanently mangled by his fingers or his fangs. 
because bruises are pleasing, yes—splashes of blood pooling beneath thin skin in the primitive shapes of his fingerprints or his hands; and scabs are gorgeous, sure—glittering little rubies that encrust your skin, more beautiful than any piece of jewellery; but they’re all much too temporary. he needs things that are forever. he needs scars, raised and puckered and dimpled; he needs his teeth eternally etched into your inner thighs—thirty-two little indents, four deep gouges from the fangs. he needs his claws carved into your chest—a crude heart engraved into your left breast, his name singed across your neck, a permeant collar burnt into your flesh by red-hot talons. 
any pretty, delicate thing will do, but the innocents are his favourite. the innocents are his favourite, because they’re so pliable, they’re so pure, they’re so desperate to please. it makes them easy—easy to mold into whatever he wants them to be, easy to morph them into something that is his and his alone; his to create, his to destroy, his to resurrect. 
his. 
the innocents are naive and trusting, the innocents are willing; willing to submit, willing to comply, eager to be taught, to be good, to obey and earn their place. 
it’s an art, almost, he thinks, the utter corruption—destruction—of innocents. he likes the challenge, because each person is different; each person requires something else to shatter them to the prettiest shards of themselves in his palms. it’s like a reverse puzzle to him; instead of painstakingly putting something together, he is painstakingly deciphering how best to pull it apart.
and, oh, he’ll put you back together, of course, but he’ll put you back together his way. he’ll put you back together in a way only he knows how to, he’ll put you back together in a way no one else ever could. he’ll put you back together in a way that forces you to need him, dousing you in himself so when he does finally piece you back into a whole, it’s with him as the glue, ensuring that it is he who holds you intact, it is he who is irrevocably a part of you, forever, embedded deep in your soul.
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i just would like you to know ur art inspires me to wanna draw more is2g *insert me crying*
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This honestly makes me really glad to hear!! Tbh that’s all I hope to do with art is to encourage others to draw!
Let it be known, yall don’t gotta draw as much as me, I’m just completely dialled into art and have a very good system for myself, BUT definitely do enjoy making art more often for yourself!
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harfanfare · 7 months
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Hey! I really love your "how to win the heart of." Can you do one for Vil? If not that's totally fine I'm just curious.
How to win the heart of Vil Schoenheit?
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Be a fan.
You like to think that the oldest memory you can recall is how you became Vil’s fan.
Until then, the recitals your school took you on were boring. Only in fifth grade, the teachers realise that, hm, maybe ancient plays might be a bit too much for those little brains, and in a spark of determination to change something, your class was taken to watch a staged version of a fairy tale, played by youngsters for youngsters.
The memory of Vil, the villain of the story, entering the scene is much more vivid. Even as a child, he was inarguably elegant and strikingly beautiful, it left you agape and your curious heart beating loudly in your chest.
“It’s better than having a completely fictional crush,” your classmate said after you confessed how much endeared you were by Vil and his acting. You listened as you typed a password to a newly-created Magicam account, solely for following him there. “There is a chance that you and him will be together.”
“A big chance?”
“Uh, like this?” She tries to show how big your chance is with her fingers. She wants to leave a gap between her fingers, but ultimately, they touch, and she puts her hands down. “I mean, we are almost the same age, so maybe you can go to the same high school as him? In a very long future…”
“I am not delusional…”
Nonetheless, the thought did make you hope.
After you reached the age of sixteen, the invitation came. For a whole year — since you saw Vil’s post on his new college choice — you’ve been pondering whether you’ve possessed enough magic talent to get into Night Raven College, the school of chosen. In good dreams, the Magic Mirror deemed your soul to be solely fit for Pomefiore. In nightmares, you were doomed to… well, any other dorm, if you were a student at NRC at all.
And maybe dreams really come true because the future you’ve anticipating has turned into a reality.
“Alright, is everyone from Pomefiore here?” Your heart stops when you hear that wonderful voice, this time not from your phone nor from 100 meters away from the speakers. You turn around, and there he is, Vil Schoenheit in all his glory stands and guides the students to the hall of mirrors. He looks like a portrait, and even if you saw his face thousands of times, the glint in his eyes redeems you speechless. “Congratulations, everyone. We will hold the welcoming introductions at our dorm. Follow me!”
Yes, Vil Schoenheit is your idol. And in the first seconds of meeting him, you were ready to follow him to the end of the world.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎
2. Get rejected. Have your heart broken.
“I apologize,” Vil says slowly, and you notice how his voice is a little monotonous. Just a bit, as if he had repeated these words countless times like the lines before a recital. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate your feelings, [Name], I want to focus on my studies and career. It’s a bad time for me to think about dating. Nonetheless, thank you for being brave and sincere enough to tell me all of this.”
You nod. The pain in your chest gives you goosebumps. It makes your head spin so fast your legs feel unstable as if there is some shift in gravity. You bow with curtsy because every Pomefiore student should be able to do so elegantly even on a space station. “Thank you for listening to my confession.”
“Of course,” he says and looks down at the letter he got from you. It’s neat, somehow cute with how carefully his name is written on it. He holds it gently so as to not crinkle the delicate paper. “I will read the contents tonight.”
“Thank you. No need to write a response,” you force a little chuckle and excuse yourself. You will be overthinking how could you say something like that after you get over your stupid letter and even dumber confession.
Vil doesn’t say anything as you walk a little too fast to keep the step elegant. He sighs at this view and mindfully tucks your letter amid the pages of the book. Now’s the time for history class. He shouldn’t get distracted—
—and soon enough, you’re out of his mind.
That is until he reads your letter.
It's a beautifully crafted confession, put into elegant lettering and a pale pink envelope. It's sealed with red wax in the shape of a perfect heart; if you haven't used magic, it must've taken several evenings to get the precision you wanted.
You’re his fan. He knows it even if you hadn’t pointed it out; the well-tailored sentences betrayed your utter attention on him in the last several years. You’re his fan, but you don’t cheapen yourself. He is the idol you admire and love, but you don’t degrade yourself to a servant or a worshiper. And that is, unexpectedly, uncommon.
The letter is—also—a challenge to yourself. “If you were to reciprocate those feelings, I will prove myself worthy to stand by your side,” it reads.
He likes that letter. Once he finishes it, he skims over the text one last time and puts it between many other letters he has gotten. Between them, another envelope seems unremarkable, yet the words there…
Unforgotten.
He sighs. Maybe he will pay more attention to you from now on.
‏‏‎ ‎
3. Don’t remember all the etiquette rules.
“You wrote in your letter that I've inspired you to learn. Go on, then. Show me how motivated you are.”
So, now Vil bullies you over your letter.
He can’t be satisfied with your scarce etiquette knowledge—he wouldn’t be content if it was decent, as it would be a dishonour to Pomefiore—but amusement crinkles in his eyes at your utter confusion over the numerous forks, knives, spoons and glasses. They’ve been spread out in several rows and columns varying from the oyster forks to champagne flute.
You hesitate. Maybe you could point out which one is the butter knife or sugar spoon, but you never cared enough to discover which fickle knife is a fish knife. Should you be looking for the one with grooves or an extremely thin one? Would it hurt to use a normal knife to eat the salmon?
Oftentimes you’re thankful there is no awkward silence between you and Vil after your confession, but you can’t shake off the impression he’s been harder on you.
“On second thought, maybe I wasn't motivated enough to learn all the names of cutlery,” you say, not daring to try your luck in labelling each piece.
To your surprise, Vil smiles and uses a teasing tone that leaves you stunned and wide-eyed. “Is that so?”
You take a breath and huff, lowering your eyes. “Yes. The power of—,” unrequired, you bite your tongue on that bitter word, “—love ends here.”
Vil cracks another delighted smile. You start suspecting that someone drugged him with a smiling potion, as you should have received a severe scolding by now. You don’t have anything against the change, so the mention of Vil’s (relative) laid-backness goes unmentioned.
“I will have you seated next to me on tomorrow's dinner, so don't even think of slacking off,” he says, putting a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you towards the next table where the heavy textbooks look so very uninviting. “I won't have any student under my wing not know the basic etiquette. Especially if it’s my fan.”
‏‏‎ ‎
4. Have opinions and the courage to voice them.
Because standing for your own makes you flourish in your own colours and not blend into the monotony of the mainstream. Seek truth, good, and beauty and you will bestow the brilliance upon yourself.
‏‏‎
5. Try to have a healthy lifestyle.
You’ve never imagined Vil barging into your room with a tray of food. Why would he? But here you are, sitting in front of an aesthetically pleasing breakfast, mouth-watering pancakes with cream and a bit of honey, and the deep green shake in question that suits the colour palette but probably tastes awfully, like all good stuff packed with vitamins.
“You should never starve yourself if you want to live healthy.”
It’s hard to swallow anything as your dorm leader glares at you, but Vil refuses to leave you before he sees you eating the stuff he brought. You wondered if he prepared the breakfast himself. Probably not.
“No? I thought that keeping a diet is good.”
“If you are dieting you eat,” Vil hisses and sinks a little more into the couch. He brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he suddenly got struck with a headache. “Oh, heavens. What am I going to do with you?”
“Maybe—”
“Quiet,” it apparently was a rhetorical question. Maybe Vil would be mad at any answer from you as he considers you a fool. He waits until you take another bite of the pancake. “A dinner break will be in two hours, and I expect you to be there.”
“I think I will still be full by that time,” you admit, glancing at a pancake and a half. “These pancakes are savoury but so very filling.”
“Savor them as much as you like,” Vil says somewhat proudly. …Maybe he did make those pancakes? No. He wouldn’t bother this much. The satisfied note in his voice makes you ponder nonetheless. “But you have no excuse for yourself not to sit with us on the meals. Also—”
His gaze grows unexpectedly impish as his eye catches something.
“I will reeducate you on the topic of a healthy lifestyle,” he glances at the bowl of bland lettuce you prepared for yourself. He smiles, either in amusement or light pity. “It should have a little more… spice.”
‏‏‎ ‎
6. Take an interest in high culture.
“It feels like the hellish lessons of Heartslabyul…”
“The Queens’ 810 rules?” Vil’s smile is lopsided and his eyes render into a knowing look once they meet your gaze. “They are nothing compared to a number of customs in etiquette.”
You take a turn. The classes for today might have ended, but if hearing all that useful stuff meant you would walk with Vil back to Pomefiore, you could bear another few minutes of a lecture. You know that everything he tells you about, he already mastered. He wouldn’t teach you anything half-heartily.
“The etiquette of speaking, the dress code, the knowledge of dinner manners (well, you’ve mastered some part of it already, with the cutlery lessons), the control of body language, the indication of voice, the honorifics, the art of writing letters and emails… You don’t want me to list all of the things I expect from you?”
You would like to, because Vil’s voice is beautiful, but the student part of you takes over control and shakes your head. Just like Riddle, who has a reputation for demanding impossible care and inquiring rules, your dorm leader is not much better — maybe even worse, because while Heartslabyul has to oblige the absurd in chosen hours or circumstances, you are on your toes in every moment.
“So much to master in just four years in the NRC…”
“It’s a lot,” Vil says, and he’s the only person you would doubt if he speaks the truth in that matter. Especially if through your walk his strides seemed perfectly calculated and hand gestures finely planned. “But if you put a mind and heart into it, you will learn all of this in no time.”
You hum. It’s hard to think of having any more motivation than from where you were a zealous Vil fan.
You ask (ponder) and he delivers.
“Actually, I have an offer: if you’ll learn it all in ahead of time, I will teach you a dating etiquette.”
What?
“…Dating etiquette?!” You shriek so loudly, that several students turn their heads. You cover your mouth as if it would do something, and ignoring Vil’s delighted gaze, and lower your voice to a whisper. “There is such a thing?”
“Of course. Who should invite who on the first date and where, what gifts can you give and what can you accept, and how to behave with your loved one, like,” he pauses a little, and you almost know he bites the sides of his cheeks to contain himself from smiling, “How to kiss someone in particular situations.”
You want to die. How else should you react? How can he tease you so much when he rejects you? (Not like you were expecting much at the time, yet…)
��There is no kissing etiquette. You tease me…”
“Just a little,” Vil laughs, and you slowly relax. “But take my proposal seriously. If I can give you another motivation to engage in your studies, then I will by all means do so.”
‏‏‎ ‎
7. Get an access to his private Magicam account.
“Do you have Magicam? If you want to, you can add me.”
Vil asks the question. He should have chastised you for mindlessly scrolling through social media because you can probably put your mind and hands to better use. The casual tone surprises you, but the inquiry gets you defensive as if it questioned you being Vil’s fan.
“I’ve already been following you for years,” you declare and pull up your phone.
Before you get to his profile, Vil sighs.
“Not the promotional account,” he says. “Mine.”
You frown. Many times you’ve seen Vil posting the photos on the “promotional account” with his personal thoughts. Maybe because you've been blinded by the elegance and harmony of every post, the idea that he would operate the Magicam profile solely for business purposes has never occurred to you.
“You have another account?” You ask, flabbergasted.
Vil rolls his eyes at the surprise in your tone and sits next to you. Your phone beeps as you get a notification about a new user following you. In a heartbeat, you follow the account back. You almost gape at the pictures there; they are beautiful, elegant, and all in Vil’s manner, but he looks like… a common student. Not ethereally, not otherworldly, but still enchantingly.
“It’s a private profile, so I ask you for discretion. I would like to keep this one for my close friends and family,” Vil says, and you hastily nod, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Having access to his personal account felt… personal, ironically.
I would like to keep this one for my close friends — he said that, didn’t he? Does he consider you a close friend?
That’s more than you ever imagined.
And yet you dare to dream for more.
You pull your phone close to your chest. “I feel honoured.”
Vil smiles at the statement. “Of course. As you should.”
‏‏‎ ‎
8. Let yourself be pampered.
“Don’t move,” Vil asks for impossible because you want to bolt as he leans to you once again and only the glare he staggers you with as you push away the urge to close your eyes. You hope the foundation is thick enough to cover a blush that creeps on your face. “You will ruin my work.”
You give up and glance down, earning another heavy sigh from your superior.
“Maybe I should finish the eye makeup myself?” You offer. “I am unused to anyone doing my makeup, so it’s hard not to flinch.”
Your good intentions get ruined as the question aggravates Vil even more because he frowns at you. Staying put and keeping quiet about that whole ordeal would seem like a lovely idea, you question whether your heart could manage another hour in this setup.
“Don’t be absurd,” he says. “We need to handle your sensitivity to the touch or you will struggle in the future if you decide to be a model.”
“I am not—”
“Stop.”
“I—”
“Silence. Be quiet, potato,” he presses his finger to your lips to seal them shut. You feel something sticky, and as his finger traces your lips, you realize it’s the lip gloss, and it’s a very good-smelling one like a strawberry; you didn’t expect something so sweet-tasting to be in Vil’s liked products. “You are under my care now. It also brings me satisfaction to see my skills used on someone.”
“Vil—”
“Shut up,” it’s hard to get offended at him, as he uses such a gentle tone. He takes a good look at your lips and as he glances up at you, probably to see if the colours of the whole makeup are consistent, your mouth goes dry. “Before I tell you to do so, don’t speak. You will mess up with the lip gloss and it’s… difficult to apply one on you.”
What? It’s difficult to apply the lipgloss on you?
Alright**,** you nod, pondering if the lip makeup is really that difficult. Do you have an unusual shape of lips (it’s probably not that?), or is this balm so hard to spread? You sit still, as Vil moves closer to you.
Yeah, except for the touch you need a way to ignore the beating of your heart.
‏‏‎ ‎
9. Move on from your heartbreak.
“Would you like to go out with me today?”
A kind smile convinced you to agree, although you barely recognize the name of the boy standing in front of you. His voice was hopeful, and you were reminded of the time you bore the same expectant expression.
You had no heart to let it fall, not right now, not so quickly, so you paint a delighted smile over your face. “Thank you. I would love to.”
You should’ve done this a long time ago.
For the sake of your friendship with Vil, you decide to stop hoping that the man of your dreams might change his mind after getting to know you better. He found a friend in you, and you would hate to disappoint him with your longing for him.
So, you should distract yourself from him and fall in love with someone else.
Today’s date will be a perfect opportunity.
You dress quite stylishly, not enough to steal all the attention, but enough to impress your date. You put more effort into the makeup this evening and spend some time picking the most fitting jewellery. The perfume you picked is subtle but alluring and chic, an excellent concoction, but you could’ve expected nothing less from Vil’s recommendation.
…It feels kind of wrong to use everything he taught you to prepare for a date, but you would’ve used this knowledge one day either way, no? It’s not like he is your first… and last love.
“I heard a boy from Scarabia have confessed to you,” the familiar voice you love but don’t want to hear like now spooks you. Vil leans on your door frame, and you wonder how much he has stayed here.
“I just agreed on a date,” you say, standing up and adjusting the folds of your outfit. You look him in the eye. “How do I look?”
Vil snorts, and his lips stretch into a mean, devilish smile. “Are you expecting an approving comment from me?”
Asking the fashion icon to rate your outfit might’ve been a wrong move. You shake your head.
“Nevermind. He’ll have to deal with however I am if he doesn’t want me to be late,” after glancing the last time into the mirror and receiving a smile from your reflection, you pick up your phone. “Well then. I shall get going.”
Vil is still, as if he hasn’t been blocking the exit or as if he wanted to keep you here. You would have loved for him to stop you here. It’s hard to stop the disappointment from flooding over your composure when Vil moves away.
“Alright. Your look is satisfactory so that Scarabia boy better be grateful for being able to go out with you,” he says something ambiguous again, and you feel bad for your date who will have to deal with such a lovesick fool as you. “Enjoy your date.”
The pang of pain pierces your heart. You smile slowly and leave the room.
The heartbreak better goes away as soon as possible, or you’ll go crazy if the thought of dating anyone else hurts that much.
‏‏‎ ‎
10. Look kissable.
“You’re late.”
Maybe you are, but you haven’t been expecting Vil waiting for you. He sits on a sofa, a book is in his hand and the tea that was served in front of him looks cold. You can guess he’s been sitting here for a while.
“How did it go?”
“It went well, I think,” you say. The date went well. Yet, you couldn’t have enjoyed it. The throbbing pain in your heart strained each of your smiles, and it surged when the Scarabian student started to be flirty. You felt as if you were cheating. “He is a kind guy. He has some hobbies and is quite charismatic, so… He’s alright.”
Vil hums. “Will you settle on ‘alright’?”
You stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. He didn’t lift his gaze from his book, and his tone was nonchalant, so he almost seemed not interested. He was. He is because Vil never asks the question to whose answers he doesn’t want to hear.
“Pardon?”
He spares you a glance.
“I thought your resolution was stronger. What happened to the person who confessed to me and was so willing to determine their worth to me?”
“Are you jealous?”
“I am furious,” he lifts from the sofa, the book forgotten. The air around suddenly grows warmer, and the shiver you didn’t mind that much runs down your spine. Vil’s strides are slower than usual, creating an imposing image of himself before he stands just before you. “If you want to set the bar so low, go on. But let me give you a taste of ambition.”
He twists his head so his eyes meet directly yours. He doesn’t touch you — not yet — but you can feel a warm breath on your cheek, and the scent of his light perfume envelops you. You have the urge to move away and cling to him at the same time. They balance, and you stay still.
A taste…
Vil puts a hand on your cheek. The gesture is much softer and more benevolent than when he was putting makeup on you. His eyes lock with yours, your heart stops, and then they drop to your lips. He moves a thumb over them.
And he kisses you.
In your dreams, you had him kiss your hand, the top of your head. The corner of your mouth. In your boldest wishes, you wanted him to kiss you like that, so lovingly, with so much care. It makes you want to push away for more air, but it makes you worry Vil will disappear if you break the kiss, as all the dreams shatter upon the morning.
He moves away, not breathless, yet not unaffected either. His cheeks burn slowly into a red shade, and his eyes look somehow glassy. “I told you, I will give you just a taste.”
How disappointing.
Before you can say something, he pushes a letter between your fingers. Its envelope matches the one you gave him several months ago. “Read it. I want an answer by midnight.”
The big clock on the wall shows you have over three hours. So much time, and you already know the answer. “You will wait this long?”
“I am giving you a chance and hope,” he says with a subtle smile. The blush on his face makes him more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him. “It’s my duty of your idol to do so.”
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silverfoxphil · 29 days
Text
youtube
dan vs phil: the jealousy battle
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purposechef · 19 days
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Some spicy art work of Carmy and Syd ?? Pretty please 🥹
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spice-y sydcarmy texts
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dustykneed · 23 days
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Picture this; Bones holding Joanna, rocking her to sleep and the part in Beautiful Boy where it’s like “The monster's gone, He's on the run, And your daddy's here” is playing. :,)
Fatherhood gives you certain... skills. Coincidentally, this is also how Jim finds out that Bones sings.
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:'))
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buwheal · 23 days
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...Unfortunately, no. I don't doubt that you hear something, but we can't hear anything on our end. What does it sound like?
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(If you’re going to help out, it’d great to also add something to distract him :-) )
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minnieminshi · 2 months
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Hii
So what about boyfriend Seungcheol who gifts reader books from her wishlist and then she realizes that conveniently he always knows the book she wants
Like she suspects that it isn’t a coincidence but still she doesn’t know how he knows 🤭
Stop bcs that's such a cute little thing to do :((( Warnings: none besides one mention of getting tackled lol
Wishlist Love
Wc: 534
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“Another gift? Cheol this is like the third one this month,” you pout as you take the bag from your boyfriend’s hands, already knowing what’s inside. He simply smiles as he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry about that, but you know I love spoiling you,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 
You roll your eyes but there’s no malice behind it, you know how Seungcheol gets when you try denying that you don’t deserve everything that he’s bought you over the months you’ve been together. The one time you said that you didn’t deserve all that he’s gotten you he gently tackled you onto your couch, smothering you in kisses until you recanted your sentence, finally accepting your fate of your boyfriend coming to your apartment, gift in hand. 
As of late, however, you noticed a trend in the gifts he would get you. Originally they were normal things, like your favorite treats from the cafe near your apartment, maybe some jewelry he thought would look nice in your collection, or some outfits he’d thought would look pretty on you. Lately, he’d buy you books, which you loved of course, it’s just after the fifth book he’s bought, you realized something. 
All the books he’s gotten you were all on your wishlist of books you wanted to read, and that’s all great, except you never shared the list with Seungcheol.  
You never shared that list with anyone in fact, so how he knew which book to get you, was beyond you. He even buys you the book you’re especially wanting to read that month, putting a star by its name on the sticky note you keep on your desk of all the books you want to read. Hell, half the time you forget where you keep the sticky note, so if he knows where it is, he does a better job at remembering than you do. 
You open the bag to see the book you’ve been wanting to read since the author announced a sequel in the works a year ago. You let out a small gasp before looking up to see him watching for your reaction, a bashful smile on his face. 
“I know you’ve been waiting for the sequel for a while and when I saw that it was finally out, I knew I had to get it for you,” he muttered, his cheeks an adorable shade of pink as you ran your pointer finger through the pages of the book, still in a bit of awe of having the book in your had as well the fact that he remembered. 
How he always knows what book to get you doesn’t matter to you, all that matters to you is the fact he knows you so well, and he wants to treat you like this just because. You put the book down and wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you Cheol, I love you.” 
He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist, “of course, I love you too.” And he hopes you don’t mind him always checking your desk to see if you’ve updated your wishlist so he can keep surprising you like this.
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q1ngqve · 2 months
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i’m simply a girl in gallagher’s world... aaa i saw you post something about kitty reader before, but i’ll ask anyway for maybe something with kitty reader and wolf gallagher?
she’s someone more confident, abrasive and maybe bratty... and gallagher just gives off brat tamer sooo >_< or maybe more bunny reader and wolf gallagher? i’m just obsessed at the moment and can’t keep fighting it!! ur works are always so indulging , thank uu ♡
in my ‘simping for gallagher’ hours rn so here you go 😜ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི
CW; cat! fem! reader, brat taming, bondage (?), fingering, orgasm denial
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don’t blame him for getting pissed because you’ve been pushing his buttons for a whole week, it’s not his fault you’re such a brat, begging for his attention all the time and acting like it’s his fault
you were so so defiant with him 😡ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི taunting him with teasing words and light touches while he’s working on something important, of course he’s gonna get up from his chair and stalk towards you like a predator hunting his prey, his hand loosening his burgundy tie with ease
his fluffy wolf tail would swish around aggressively as he leans down closer to you, eyebrows scrunching together angrily, “what a brat, prancing into my office while you’re in heat with a flimsy little skirt.”
“yeah? and what’re you gonna do about that?” wolf! gallagher is even angrier now :( how dare you talk back to him with that little smirk of yours while your hands run up and down his chest, nails teasingly swiping over his nipples
you suck in a shuddering breath when his eyes darken and he offers you his own smirk before pushes you towards his desk face down, flipping your skirt up in the process, landing a smack harshly on your ass making you yelp in surprise
“hands.”
your wrists as bounded behind you with his tie in an instant, so tight it’s already making your arm feel numb. you feel him press his crotch against you as he leans down to your ears, “don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.” and then he’s all over you! hands playing with your cat ears and tail, rubbing at the sensitive spots as he grinds against you
doesn’t bother to remove his gloves as he rips your panties away, plunging his fingers into your leaking hole with ease, curling and scissoring at the right spots. his legs separating your own, forcing you open while tremble and try your best to run from him
“how many times do I have to tell you to wait till we’re home, hmm? you just couldn’t wait, could you? so fucking impatient, so fucking needy for my cock.”
“it’s because you wouldn’t pay atten—” another smack lands on your ass, leaving the skin there red and stinging
“talking back again? have you not learned your lesson?”
your head snaps back and you send him a challenging glare even though you know it only gets him even more excited, especially since your lips are puffy and there are tears in your eyes, threatening to fall any moment now
“you’re so mean.”
you squirm when his thumb presses onto your clit, and you hear him laugh, “aren’t you adorable, you’re in no position to be a brat and yet here you are, running that pretty mouth of yours.”
an unexpected gasp leaves you when he thrusts his fingers hard into you, the rough pads reaching your spot easily and you feel your legs give out on you as you approach your high, hips pushing back against him instinctively
“no no no!” your eyes fly open when the man behind you steps away, pulling his fingers away with him before you could cum on them
“this is punishment. now sit there and be a good girl for me until I’m done with work, or you won’t be coming for a week.”
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