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#or maybe its the other way around. i haven’t decided
supernovafics · 3 days
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. ❞✭・
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ a modern fake dating steve harrington series ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
in which a friendship is surprisingly born in an elevator, and a crush that feels hopeless is developed very soon after that. for what feels like forever, you debate whether or not you should be honest with eddie and see if he maybe feels the same way as you. but, you upsettingly miss your chance to say anything when he gets into a relationship with someone that’s not you. ultimately, you decide to push everything you feel to the side so that you don’t potentially ruin everything between you and him; because at the end of the day, he’s still your best friend. now, two years later, things have changed— there’s a break up, reignited feelings, and pining that feels worse and even more helpless this time around. a blind date leads to you fake dating some guy you barely even know with the hopes of finally getting eddie to see you as more than just a friend. at first, you’re hesitant and you honestly think that steve’s suggestion sounds a little insane. but, then you decide that perhaps it could actually, somehow, maybe work? you and steve haven’t even known each other for a full twenty hours before you two are shaking hands and agreeing to fake date for a month, and hoping that you both get what you want out of this abruptly thrown together arrangement.
warnings: modern au, college au, fake dating trope, Big Big slow burn, bestfriend!eddie, slight fuckboy!steve vibes, unrequited feelings, pining, angst, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter
author's note: ah i'm very very excited for this series! i had this idea since like december and have been up and down and back and forth with outlining and writing it for the past few months (its been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least lmao). but here it finally is woooo !! i'm gonna actually do a taglist for this one so let me know if you wanna be added<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
prologue — can't go back
chapter one — from the start (coming thursday!)
(the entire series will be twenty chapters and an epilogue!)
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harvestmoth · 2 years
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i love doing the same things twice just slightly different
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neo-nomatrix · 6 months
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In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader
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word count: a little over 1k
summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different
You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.
Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.
Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.
Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.
Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.
Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.
Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!
A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?
Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.
You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.
“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.
Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.
You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”
You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.
“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.
“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.
“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.
“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.
You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.
“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.
“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.
“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.
“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not.”
“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.
“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.
“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.
“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.
“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.
“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.
“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.
“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.
“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.
He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.
“You like what you see?” He teases.
“You’re an idiot,” You smile.
“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.
Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.
You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.
“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.
He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.
“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.
Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.
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gyucheolslut · 9 months
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2:14 AM • KMG
lowercase intended.
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cw: somnophilia (consensual), established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), creampie!! yum!! multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nervous gyu, whiny desperate gyu & f!reader.. they both want to please each other so bad :( neck holding? it’s kind of implied that reader is smaller than gyu, his shirt is big on her and falls off her shoulders.. .. pet names such as baby, sweetheart, pretty girl… maybe more.. i don’t know.. i got carried away
word count: 1.7k~
not proof read!!
a/n: hi!! i’m eve~ this is my first time writing smut and i’m using it as a way to get back into writing! im super excited! i haven’t written in like.. 2 years.. so be nice to me.. :[ i hope you enjoy :]
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
mingyu couldn’t help himself. while you usually don’t move much in your sleep, especially within his tight grip.. tonight was different.
you wouldn’t stop moving..
at first, it wasn’t that big of a deal, with you occasionally shifting in his arms.. but it started to become an issue when your ass kept pressing into him, stirring up his mind and now painfully hard cock.
small soft whimpers and whines would occasionally sneak past your lips, making it more difficult for his mind to focus on anything other than fucking you in to the mattress..
while mingyu knew you weren’t doing it on purpose.. he could tell you were actually asleep.. the movement of your hips almost seemed too calculated. are you dreaming of him?
as if on cue, he was torn from his thoughts by a broken whine of his name.. “gyu..” it almost sounded painful. desperate. you needed him, he decided. he had to help you.
with shaky hands, mingyu found himself messing with the band of your underwear underneath your his shirt. why was he so nervous?
you had discussed your sexual limits and interests early on in your relationship.. and you’ve woken him up many times to some fantastic morning head.. so why was he so nervous?
mingyu sat there, contemplating for a moment before he whispered a small “fuck it..” under his breath, one of his big hands finding its way into your underwear.
using his middle finger, he pressed it between your folds finding your clit with ease.. groaning quietly into your hair as he can feel how warm and wet you’ve become. you were definitely dreaming about him.
with a skilled digit, mingyu circled your clit. feeling your head fall back into his shoulder, he peered down at you. the moonlight from the window illuminated your face, allowing him to watch the tension in your forehead release and your lips part in satisfaction.
he dipped his finger a little lower, teasing your entrance for just a second.. adding his pointer finger as he pressed them into you. you were always so reactive, so sensitive. your back arching off of his chest slightly.
using the arm that was underneath you, he adjusted himself to pull you back against him. pumping his fingers into you skillfully, curling them every few thrusts.
your breathing became heavy and a little unsteady, body wriggling against his from pleasure. mingyu hums softly, placing wet kisses along the side of your face, lips stopping at your ear to whisper a gentle “s’okay baby.. i’ve got you” as he increased the pace of his fingers.
as the tension in your belly began to build, your eyes fluttered open.. a hand reaching to grip his forearm. “fuck..” you whined, pressing your hips down to meet his movements.
mingyu smiled against your ear.. “there she is..” he muttered, shifting himself even closer to you as he became more brutal with his pace now that you were awake.
your grip on his forearm tightened, mirroring the band of fire stretching in your lower abdomen, signaling your impending climax.
clasping your fingers around his wrist that was setting an unrelenting pace on your dripping core, your mouth drops into an o shape, a high pitched gasp escaping before silence took over for a moment..
the only noise to be heard was mingyu’s quickened breath and your squelching pussy that was gripping his fingers even tighter than you were his wrist.
as you broke the silence with a anguished whine, mingyu wouldn’t let up. he couldn’t. he wanted more. he wanted to make you cum.. again and again.. and again.
“gyu, please.. i need more. i need you.. i need you to feel good.” you begged, turning to the best of your ability to look at him with teary eyes.
really..he felt great. watching you cum because of him was all he need. but he understood. you needed him. you wanted him.
mingyu searched your eyes, slowing down his movements before coming to a complete stop and pulling his fingers out.
despite asking him for more, you couldn’t help but whimper the loss of contact.. your hole clenching around nothing as it was desperate for more. for mingyu.
moving lazily, but skillfully.. mingyu pushes your underwear down, feeling you kick it off of your ankles beneath the blanket before following, pushing his boxers down and kicking them off the edge of the bed.
he quickly grabs your waist, needing to feel the heat of your skin. keeping you on your side, back pressed to his chest.. mingyu grabs your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip. you locked your foot behind his knee in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded.
leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, mingyu began to drag his tip through your drooling folds. sucking a breath in between his teeth, resulting in a quiet, hiss like noise that went straight to your core.
whining in impatient anticipation, you pushed your hips back against him, gasping when his tip bumped your clit.
mingyu felt hot. he felt like he was burning… that feeling worsening as he felt your warm, sopping cunt engulf him.. taking inch by inch of his painfully hard cock.. like it was made for him. molded for him.
a broken mewl escapes his throat, a hand sprawled against your thigh that was propped over his own. he speaks softly in your ear, voice laced with need.
“there ya go baby..” he exhales.. “shh.. s’okay, you’re taking me so well.. god.. you’re so warm sweetheart..” he practically coos, allowing you to adjust to his size. you’ll never get used to it.
when you started moving your own hips against him, he knew you were ready, hand dragging up your body to rest heavily against your throat.
pressing into you, the arm that was underneath your body adjusts to not only stop it from falling asleep, but to grip and paw at your closest breast.. underneath the fabric of the shirt you were still wearing.
the shirt has fallen off one of your shoulders, it’s bunched up around your waist. it’s pointless for it to be there, but neither of you care to remove it.
the room is filled with heavy, hot breaths and the pornographic sound of skin slapping as he repeatedly makes contact with your ass.
you’re dripping around him.. your thighs, his thighs, covered..so much skin is glistening with your arousal.
it’s loud, the squelching of your heat that is sucking him in so greedily.. your moans, whines and whimpers. his groans, grunts and mirroring whines.
“oh.. my pretty girl.. is that better? does my baby feel better? you needed me so bad” he starts, voice laced with an almost condescending hum “practically begging for me in your sleep”
you moaned out a broken sound that was more of a “ngh” than a reply, eyes fluttering closed as you were unable to keep them open any longer. you felt so good, too good.
gripping the forearm of the hand that laid against your neck, you felt yourself becoming dangerously close.. parting your lips to speak, to warn mingyu.. but nothing was coming out but breathy gasps..
mingyu’s pace is almost inhumane, his mind is clouded with the want and need for both of you to cum. hips snapping into yours as he chases both of your climaxes.
he takes note of your attempts to speak, hand snaking down for his fingers to find and circle your clit, your body reacting strongly to the added pressure. it’s almost too much.
“i know baby.. fuck.. are you gonna cum? hm?” he hums, kissing your exposed shoulder. “gonna cum for me pretty girl? gonna let me fill you up?” his tone is desperate, so desperate.. so whiny and overwhelmed. it’s only adding fuel to the fire that is erupting throughout your entire body.
pace unrelenting but becoming unsteady as he approaches his high, mingyu uses his pointer and middle finger to rub your clit until you’re practically exploding around him. a strangled moan echos in the room with the sinister sound of him fucking you so good as you reach back to grip his hip, back arching against his toned chest.
you see white as you cum, jaw dropping in a silent scream, fingers digging into the skin of his hip/ass. drool trickling down the side of your cheek, mixing with your tears that started to flow. you felt so good. so incredibly good.
mingyu whines, gripping your hip as he continues to pound your tightening, pulsating pussy.. mumbling praises as he closes in on his own high.
his bruising grip gets even tighter on your hip as he presses himself flush against your ass and body, painting your insides with hot, thick ropes of white.
hips stuttering against yours as he whimpers into your neck and shoulder, thrusting a few more times, riding out his high and pushing his cum even deeper into your warm heat.
you’re breath heavily, whining in overstimulation at his last few thrusts, your grip on him not letting up.
mingyu stills, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin he can reach. you stay like that for a while, catching your breath.. listening to mingyu’s sweet praises on how you’re so good to him, how pretty you are..
he pulls out with, slowly.. rubbing his length against your folds a few times to spread his cum all over you. chuckling when you whine again when he grazes your sensitive clit, attempting to move away from him.
you end your night with mingyu cleaning you up, giving you water and making you change your now sweat soiled shirt. he holds you, your body engulfed by his arms, head against his chest, your arms wrapped around him as he mumbles something about definitely needing to wash the sheets tomorrow morning before you both drift off into a comfortable sleep..
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artist-issues · 6 months
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“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”
Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.
Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.
It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?
But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.
If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.
Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.
Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.
You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.
But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”
Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”
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Are we beginning to get the picture?
See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”
He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.
And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”
And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”
And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.
And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.
And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.
White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.
And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”
And you know what?
If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.
But He is NOT.
God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.
Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.
No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”
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White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.
Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.
Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?
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This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.
That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.
You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.
And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.
White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.
So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.
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alyakthedorklord · 11 months
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Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)
Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.
If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771
As did @scrapcheck, still in progress
And Devilhorn!
Anyways LONG post under the cut
Hal Jordan
Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.
So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.
Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”
Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”
They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”
Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”
He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.
Diana Prince
I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.
Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.
WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”
Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”
Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”
Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”
Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”
Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…
Two down.
J’ohn Jones
Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-
Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)
Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“
Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)
Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”
(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)
Batman 3, League 0
Barry Allen
I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball
As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)
Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”
Barry: (fear)
Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”
He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.
After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”
Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”
Batman 4, League 0
Oliver Queen
This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”
Batman 5, League 0
Dinah Lance
Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.
Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”
Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”
Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”
Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”
Batman 6, league 0
Clark Kent
For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”
Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”
With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.
(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.
Bruce: “Stop.”
Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”
Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”
Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”
Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-
Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”
Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-
“Yes.”
Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)
Anyways, final results:
Batman: 7
League: 0
Reveal:
Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.
Instead, Batman smirks.
He leans in
And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”
The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?
Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”
Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”
He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”
(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)
Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“
(Different reveal below)
@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou
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—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering
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You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.
You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.
It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.
Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.
“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.
“He’s coming over here.”
You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”
Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”
You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.
Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”
He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”
You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”
He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.
Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.
That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.
“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”
“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”
King grins. “I will.”
Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”
“Uhm… can I help you?”
She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”
“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”
Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”
Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.
“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”
“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”
The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”
“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”
“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.
You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”
His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”
You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”
“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.
“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”
He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”
It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”
He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”
You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”
He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”
The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”
He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”
You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.
“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”
He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”
You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”
He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.
His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.
You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.
“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”
Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.
He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”
You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”
You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”
He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.
It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.
“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”
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© asterias-record-shop
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lucvly · 6 months
Note
could u do a quick lil imagine with either chris or matt and the reader like teases him with the tiktok sound “fuck me like you mad at me baby” and then he does
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— body electric, matt sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: smut, smut, smut. dom!matt 😊, dirty talk. fem!reader. not proofread.
a/n: AMENNN. doing this with matt because i feel like i haven’t been feeding the matt girls enough!! i got incredibly carried away this is Not short at all mb anon
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matt was laying on your bed, scrolling through social media as he waited for you to finish your makeup so you two could go on that date he’d promised. he was awfully quiet in comparison to any other day. you didn’t think much of it, though you’d recently gotten in a brief argument, but you shrugged it off because there was no way he could still be mad at you. you immediately snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a noise coming from his phone.
you continued doing your makeup, applying your lip liner and lipstick before checking up on your hair. once everything seemed to be the way you wanted it, you looked back at matt who was still scrolling mindlessly on his phone.
once he felt your eyes lingering on him, he looked up from his phone with an unamused expression, almost deadpan, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. you two were supposed to have a fun night out, a cute date, but with the way he was acting up, you weren’t sure if that was happening anytime soon.
“you almost done?” his voice was soft as always, yet his tone seemed a bit harsher as he settled his phone down on the bed for a minute, taking a good look at you while biting his lip, then grabbing his phone again.
“yeah. just give me a second,” your barely looked at him, shifting your attention to your phone which was on top of your vanity.
you picked it up, taking a few photos, making good use of the lighting in your room. you took the opportunity to scroll through tiktok for a moment, stumbling upon a video with a certain sound which you found somewhat funny. you decided to use the sound to make a tiktok, simply showing off your makeup and your outfit, and maybe to tease your boyfriend, but that was besides the point.
“fuck me like you mad at me baby–” as soon as your boyfriend heard those words come out of your mouth, he looked up from his phone, immediately setting it aside, his full attention on you now.
you could barely even finish your video before you felt matt’s hands on your waist, his arms snaking around you from behind as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses on your neck.
“if you wanted me to fuck you so bad you could’ve just asked, pretty girl.” his voice was raspier and deeper than usual, his mouth continuing its work on your neck, now starting to slightly bite.
“hm?” was all you could manage to say as you bit down on your lip, a light pink tint rushing to your cheeks as your legs started weakening with every kiss he pressed to your neck.
“don’t ‘hm’ me.” his tone was stern and firm, making your legs even weaker if that was even possible. he could tell the effect this was having on you, he could hear your breath hitching in your throat as his hand started to travel from your waist further down painfully slowly.
“i– please, matt.” you whispered out as his right hand rested on your inner thigh, painfully close to your core, making your breath heavier. “don’t tease.”
you could feel his hard on as he stood behind you, pressing his boner against your ass while his hand slipped under your dress, almost drooling when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
“all this for me? god, you spoil me.” you could picture the smirk on his face by just his voice. “too bad i’m gonna ruin you.” his fingers finally reached your core, causing you to let out a choked breath. his fingers traced over your wetness, covering his fingers in your slick before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean.
in a swift movement, his fingers ghosted over the zipper of your dress, unzipping it slowly. he then turned you over to face him directly and crashed his lips onto yours as you two ended up moving onto your bed, your tongues fighting for dominance as your hands traveled down to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down, him helping you by tugging them off, ending up somewhere across your room room.
“please,” you let out a soft whine, desperate for any sort of relief. all you wanted was for him to fuck you senseless, fuck you until all you could mumble was his name.
“so desperate.” his cock twitched in his boxers upon hearing your whine. you were his absolute weakness. “all this just for me to fuck you dumb, princess?” his lips contorted into a small smirk as he pushed you back onto the mattress, hovering over your body, tugging his boxers off as his cock sprung free, precum dripping from the angry red tip.
you were almost salivating at the sight in front of you. lucky for you, your boyfriend was too desperate at this point. lining up his dick with your entrance, covering his cock in your cum to use as lube. he barely even gave you time to think before he slammed into you with a hard and deep thrust, earning a soft gasp from you.
“matt–” you moaned out his name, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he started to thrust into you harshly, barely even giving you time to adjust to his length before he started thrusting into you.
“this is what you wanted, huh?” his voice was deeper and breathier than his usual tone as he pumped in and out of your cunt. “for me to fuck you dumb.”
you’d never heard him talking this dirty, which just made you moan his name louder, because god he was attractive. you were pleading him to go a bit slower, though you didn’t even mean it. you let out low gasps and moans as he continued his pace, your eyes rolling back slightly.
“look at me when i’m talking to you.” he managed to say calmly as one of his hands reached for your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as he continued thrusting into you, letting out low groans and grunts.
“atta girl.” he spoke when your eyes met his, followed by a soft groan as he continued pounding into you, your hands moving towards his back, nails digging into his skin so roughly you were both sure he’d end up with marks.
“please, matt– i’m close,” you managed to say through soft gasps and shaky breaths. you were scratching his back to stabilize yourself as he continued to hit the spot that made your eyes almost roll back to the back of your head.
“i know, baby. c’mon, be good and cum for me.” he could tell the certain spot he was pounding into was doing it for you, and god, it was doing it for him as well. seeing the beads of sweat forming on your forehead, your eyes ever so slightly rolled back– your fucked out look mixed with how good he felt as his dick was being swallowed by your cunt, he could cum from just the mere thought of it.
“shit,” you whined, feeling his dick twitch in your cunt as his thrusts got sloppier– your head was spinning. you could barely even manage to tell him you were cumming before his dick was all covered in your slick, your legs slightly shaking from your orgasm.
his thrust got sloppier as you came down from your high, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he thrusted into you. your cunt covering his dick with your juices managing to immediately send him over the edge incredibly quickly with a low “fuck” and a soft, deep groan.
his body collapsed right next to yours after he pulled out, and you were somehow grateful because if he continued abusing your cunt you were about to start tearing up from the overstimulation.
“i should fuck you like i’m mad at you more often.”
“shut up.”
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bettyfrommars · 5 months
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One More Night
older!Eddie x afab!Reader
Eddie survived the upside down and has been on the road ever since. one day he meets you and decides to stay in town a bit longer. He has a lot of scars both inside and out. This can be read as a smutty standalone but it was inspired by drifter!eddie and oregon!eddie. He is in the age range of 30-50 in these au's.
just more proof that Eddie Lives.
other short stories
18+ONLY, MDNI please, smut, unprotected piv, oral for all, fingering, creampie, use of she/her, mutual pining, monsterfucking only if you squint.
wc: 1.4k
“I haven’t done this in a while,” Eddie said, exhaling a shaky breath. 
You were standing just inside the door of his motel room, hands fisting the t-shirt material at his ribs under the heavy leather of his jacket, wordlessly begging to feel his skin on yours.  His hands were at your hips, kneading the meat there in time with his heartbeat, and he'd wanted you so bad for so long, he thought he might bust a seam on his jeans.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” you hummed against his throat, dragging your lips back and forth under his earlobe with the two hoop piercings before you sucked it into your mouth for a nibble. “But I hear it’s like riding a bike.”
God, he smelled so good.  Not like the last guy you’d been on a date with who wore so much cologne it blinded your senses, but a mix of Irish Spring soap, motor oil, and campfire.  The way skin smells after you’ve hiked in nature and soaked up the sun.
He’d been living at the motel for the past few months, pumping gas and slinging wrenches up the road, thinking he’d take off again in the spring, but then he met you, and something inside of him began to blossom out of the cold, dead rot in his veins. 
He took your face in his hands and his kisses were starved; depraved, even.  Clothing came off almost in a panic, each of you raw with the urgency to cure a bad case of mutual loneliness. 
You made your way down his chest, hands caressing every inch of his bare flesh in the dim of the gold lamp light, reading the braille of a man on the run from himself.  
You got to your knees when you pushed his jeans and boxers down, they fell to the ground with a thump from his wallet and chain.  He groaned when your soft lips went around the head of his cock, aching at the warmth of your acceptance.  A few searching kisses along his shaft and he was trembling; it had been so long since he’d let someone touch him. 
You were being so tender, as if he were fragile, as if he could break at any moment—as if you knew.  
“Tell me what you like?” You slowly stood to full height, stuttering a self-conscious laugh.  “Maybe I’m not as good at this as I thought.”
“No, you're so perfect,” he blurted, easing you back onto the bed, nudging your legs apart gently with his knee. He searched your eyes, “I want to see you.”
You shivered when his knuckles found the slick mess between your legs.  He was staring at your face, shifting his weight, watching your pleading reaction as you whimpered, “pleasepleasepleaseFuckplease.”
He licked in swirls down your stomach, you had scars there too. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered into the hair just above your prize, his hot breath on a secret place you hadn’t shared in a while.
His tongue found its home, and then rolled there like a crocodile with its prey. 
The way he devoured you made you arch back on the mattress and wail. 
“Th-that..that feels so good,” you clutched onto his head between your legs, digging your fingers into his hair, and he reached up to put his hand on top of yours, encouraging your guidance. 
It had been days since he remembered smiling, but he did then, against your heat, reveling in the way you shook and clung to him. 
He sank two fingers in and let out a long moan, unable to stop himself from thrusting against the bed, precum leaking from his tip. 
“More,” you writhed, clinging to the comforter, and he slipped a third in.
He felt the fluttering contraction and went deeper, hungrily lapping up whatever you could give him.  He heard you trying to speak but it only came out in gasps and whimpers, chanting his name like a prayer.
The hunger of the moment overtook him and, before he could stop himself, he growled.
It was the type of sound an animal would make, low and guttural, and it made your head snap up in surprise at the vibration of it.
Staring back at you from the end of the bed, his pupils glowed garnet red.  
In a post-orgasm haze, you must’ve imagined it. In a blink then they were normal again; dark orbs rimmed in white, watching you curiously.
He lowered his head to brush his lips over your swollen, soaked cunt. “Do you think she could handle another one?”
“Come up here with me?” Your voice was a rasp, and you did not have to ask him twice.
“I’m all yours,” he said with a wiggle of his brows, scooping you up to roll you over on the bed, and you squealed at how strong he was.
On top, you wasted no time guiding his throbbing length inside, straightening to work your way down and ease into it, throwing your head back.
He cursed at how well you took him, darting his hips up to meet you.  He loved seeing you like this, loved watching your face when you began to move.  He licked his thumb and forefinger and plucked at one of your nipples.  
What if he stayed another week?
Your eyes squeezed shut and he wondered if you had noticed what happened a few moments ago.
He’d lost himself back there, had felt himself going through the change at the peak of your arousal. 
That...thing he’d been carrying with him all those years since he’d almost died in the Upside Down was awake, and it was at his door, knocking.  
Bang bang bang.
Let me in, it hissed in a voice that sounded very much like his own. Let me have her.
It couldn’t have you, not ever. 
You were a sweet piece of heaven to him, a safe haven where he could forget who he was for however long he had with you.  
You screamed that you were close again, and his thumb was at your clit as you bounced.  “Eddie, oh fuck, oh god!” 
“I can't believe how good you feel," he grunted. "You gonna cum for me again baby, yeah?” He planted his feet on the mattress for leverage. 
He’d been able to cum before without changing, but with you it was different.
You’d awakened something…feral.
Before he could think too much about it, your walls were rippling around him, and he poured hot and heavy inside of you.  His whole body spasmed, and you were both making incomprehensible sounds, speaking in tongues.  
There was so much cum, he could feel it spilling out, and he just kept pounding it in, lost in a release so intense, it felt as if he were melting into the bed. 
Breathless, you collapsed to his chest, each of you sweaty and glistening and gasping for gulps of air.  
“Holy shit, I don’t think...I’ve ever…cum so hard…in my life…” you were trying to remember how to speak with your cheek pressed into his shoulder, unable to move. 
He curled his arms around you, turning to plant his lips on the back of your head as he spoke.  “Does that mean we could do this again?”
What was he talking about? He couldn’t see you again, he had to get out of town.  Hit the road.  Get back to his longtime lover, the lonely highway.  Eat dust and burn rubber. Everything he touched turned to shit, and the people close to him always got hurt
Or worse.
He cared about you enough to leave you.
But not that night
He would allow himself this, just a few more hours
To feel you fall asleep in his arms
To twitch and snore and breathe you in
He asked if you were comfortable when he pulled the covers up, painting kisses along your shoulder. 
He spooned you like you were his missing puzzle piece, the one he thought was long gone, tucked down somewhere in the couch cushion, and you reached a hand up to intertwine your fingers with his.
You hadn’t been sleeping well at all the past few weeks, but as your breathing found his rhythm, your eyes fluttered, and you drifted.  The last thing you remembered thinking was how long it had been since somebody held you.  
You were too relaxed to notice that the hand you held was no longer human.
The hand you held had claws.  
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papercorgiworld · 6 months
Text
Christmas saviours
Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo and Mattheo
A bit of an angsty beginning because of some Christmas loneliness, but you need not worry our most handsome Slytherins will save Christmas Eve with fluff and kisses.
Warning: only kisses and maybe some suggestiveness
Not proofread, feedback always welcome.
I planned on finishing another fic, but ended up writing Christmas fluff. I hope you enjoy it! I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I wish you a most wonderful day.
Christmas, you loved it! Every year you celebrated with your family and created some lovely memories. Although you knew this year would be different, you were confident that also this year you would manage to create wonderful memories.
You had only recently moved to the UK and this was your first year at Hogwarts. You were definitely the odd one out. Everyone in your year already knew each other for years and then there was you: new and permanently lost in the castle. You had made some friends, but also weren’t gonna win any popularity contests any time soon.
The news that your parents had to work this Christmas made your stomach turn and your heart physically hurt. However, you were already in the Christmas spirit so you were hopeful that you could still figure something out. You consoled your parents by telling them that it would be good to spend Christmas at Hogwarts to make friends.
And that was the plan. You invited everyone you had ever talked to at Hogwarts and also everyone from your year. And you learned a lot, like some people really need to learn how to say no in a polite way and most people go home for Christmas. Now Christmas eve was only a day away, two people had confirmed they were coming and there were two people left on your list who hadn’t responded. Possibly four people would show up, worst case scenario two.
Being hopeful and in full Christmas spirit you did your shopping, preparing everything for an unforgettable Christmas eve. On your way from Hogsmeade one of your invitees came running towards you. “Hey (y/n), so glad to catch.” You smiled brightly. “Here to help me with the groceries?” Your friend smiled. “Uhm, no, but I’ll help.” You’re pleased you can let go of some of the heavy bags. “I was actually looking for you, because I got great news, my parents made it back in time after all. So, me and my brother are leaving in half an hour. I'm really sorry we gotta miss out on your Christmas dinner.” Your smile fades, but you immediately force a fake one onto your lips.
Walking into the room of requirement you finally fall apart. You watch as Hogwarts conjures the most picturesque Christmas scene you’ve ever seen. Tears softly make their way down your cheeks, but you don’t sob, you try to ignore your misery. With shaky hands you put everything you bought in its designated spot. When you kneel down to set the four small Christmas gifts you bought under the tree you finally admit to yourself that you’ll be spending tomorrow evening alone, unwrapping your own gifts. After your moment of self pity you make your way down to your dorm.
The next morning you decide that there is still hope! Though the chances are slim, there’s still a chance one of the two who haven’t responded yet will show up or maybe both. You try and find them throughout the day, but fail. Around 5 you start dressing up. Around 6 you light the candles for your grand Christmas eve party.
Your heart twists and turns as it's hurting terribly, like it would rather stop beating than suffer another minute of agonizing loneliness. You stuff your face with delicious snacks. “What was I thinking? Like someone was gonna show up. I watched too many mushy Christmas movies. Christmas is overrated anyway! I’m turning into the grinch! Uh, I’m talking to myself! I’m going insane, might as well steal everyone’s Christmas next year.” You stop ranting and grab a plate, ready to start cleaning up and go to bed at 7.
Blaise
Suddenly the door opens and you stare in disbelief as Blaise Zabini walks in. “I was in the neighborhood, though I would stop by.” Like a deer caught in headlights you stand still. “Early? Aren’t I?” He looks around the empty room and continues. “If you want I can help you prepare.” You look down at your feet wondering what to say. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” “Thanks.” You put down the plate you were holding and manage to gather enough courage to be honest. “Everything is ready. And you’re not early. No one showed up.”
Blaise seems shocked by the news and makes his way around the table to you. “What? That’s horrible. All your effort.” His hands rest on your arms, giving you comfort. “I’ll live.” You say playing it down, but your glassy eyes betray you. “But why are you here? I expected everyone to be at their respective parties.” Blaise’s lips formed a line and you could see he was in deep thought for a second. “I am.” You looked confused at the Slytherin in front of you. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” You frowned and smiled at the same time. Happy with the news but not quite sure what to think about it.
“So… what’s for dinner?” You wanna question everything he’s doing, but his excitement distracts you and you start telling him about all that you had prepared. You two have a lovely dinner together. Blaise is his most charming self as he wants nothing more than to make you forget that no one else showed up. To any outsider it would look as if you two had planned to spend Christmas together. But you kept wondering why he was here. You had to ask. “Why were you in the neighborhood?” A lot of stutters escaped a normally always easy talker, which made you question whether he was in the neighborhood at all. “There was no reason for you to be here, was there?” Realizing it was pointless to come up with excuses, he confessed. “I know I told you I wasn’t coming to your party but I have a little something and that’s why I stopped by.”
You found his choice of words odd. “A little something? Like a gift?” Blaise thought for a moment. “No, not really. Stand up for me will ya?” He got up and you did the same as he requested. He signaled you to come closer and when you still stood too far away he gently tugged your hand until your chest almost met his. He smiled a little goofy and only after a moment did you realize he was nervous. Blaise reached for something in the inner pocket of his jacket. You watch him carefully pull out a branch of mistletoe. He held in between the two of you. “I brought mistletoe.” You laughed as he stated the obvious. “Isn’t it supposed to be above the person you wish to kiss?” He nodded and reached for his wand.
Casting Levioso made the branch float above the both of you. Blaise reached for both your hands and you in return took a step closer. You were now pressed against one another. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Blaise.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him.
Draco
The door slams open and you’re shocked to see Draco Malfoy of all people. Is he lost? He looks around smugly, one hand in his pocket and a smirk on his face. “Quiet the party, new girl.” Gesturing towards the empty room. “Trust me the atmosfeer was great until you came in.” You immediately snapped back. He simply huffed and walked towards the table examining all the different dishes. “So where are you guests?” He asked sincerely but without looking up from the food. “I guess everyone had other parties to attend. Understandable.” Your voice was so soft and defeated it made Draco look up at you worried that you might start crying any moment.
He wasn’t really good at situations like these so he quickly made his way over to the drinks. “May I?” He asked politely, gesturing to a bottle of champagne. You nodded. “But it’s probably too cheap for your taste.” Draco gave the bottle one look, shrugged, and opened it anyway. “I’ve already had expensive champagne and cheap company today. Got bored. So I decided to come here for cheap champagne and better people.” You take the glass he offers you. “I’m sorry, it’s a ‘cheap champagne and no people’ kinda party.” He takes a rather large swing from the glass and looks at you with a softness you’ve never seen before. “I’ll take you and your cheap champagne over my family’s horrible Christmas party anytime. So, will you have me as your guest?” You nod with glittering eyes. You quickly explain all the different options your table offers.
He tastes everything and overflows you with compliments. His table manners are exquisite and he even teaches you some little details of fancy dining. But most of all you spent your time laughing at all the ridiculous parties his family organizes. It helps him vent and your laugh makes him heal, like it’s all alright now that you agree it’s just as absurd as he thinks it is. After you’ve finished dining you turn to the tree and the gifts underneath. “If you still have time I’ve got four gifts under the tree. It’s just little trinkets, but to leave them unopened just feels horrible.” The Slytherin stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to the tree to pick up one of the gifts. When you turn around with a gift in your hands he gets up from his seat in a hurry. “I can’t stay.” Is all he says as he picks up his scarf.
“Just one gift.” Your voice is almost a whisper and Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s just, I have nothing for you. I come barging in, eating all the food and now gifts, while I have nothing to give-“ “You showed up! You saved my Christmas. You’re like my hero.” Draco feels like he’s going to burst with emotion at your words. He… a hero, it made him feel like a whole different person. “Truth is, (y/n) you saved me and not just my Christmas, all of me.” Only now you realize how close together you are with only the gift between you two. He looks so fragile and that’s probably why you suddenly felt the courage and need to go in for a soft kiss. He was shocked for a moment with eyes wide, but surrendered to your warmth and kissed back, his hand reaching for the back of your head to deepen the kiss.
“Will you now open a gift?” You ask again when you break the kiss. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, anything for my princess.”
Enzo
“I’m here!” You stare at energetic Berkshire as he comes through the door announcing his presence. “Might have nicked something fancy that might just save your Christmas.” He holds a bottle of expensive firewhisky up. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence and enthusiasm. His smile softens and he puts the bottle down on the table. “I had a suspicion that the new girl’s Christmas party wasn’t going to be a great success.” You felt horrible hearing him say the obvious. He walked around the table towards you.
“I’m here to keep you company.” You huff at his offer. “I don’t need your pity. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be.” Enzo grabs your hand as you try to turn away from him in an attempt to hide your misery. “You need my pity, this is a pitiful party.” You try to force your hand out of his grip but he has a surprisingly tight hold of you and you end up closer to him. “And also, there’s nothing for me at the other parties, because the cute new girl isn’t there.”
You look in his gentle eyes wondering if he really means it. “You want to spend Christmas eve with me?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer. He nods and an adorable smile tugs at your lips as you no longer can contain your happiness. During dinner Enzo catches you up on all the latest gossip. But after a while you get worried if people gossip this much at Hogwarts then for sure they will talk about your lame party. It’s this concern that leads you to ask for a favor. “Uhm. Enzo, about my party… could you not tell anybody. Like I can just say that I canceled it. I mean.. I really don’t want people figuring out about my lame Christmas party.”
“Can’t.” You stare at him as he swallows a bite of his desert. “If your party didn’t happen then where was I. I can’t have people thinking I was alone.” “But telling people you were at the new girl’s lame party won’t do your reputation any good either.” Enzo shakes his head and gets up from his seat opposite of you to take a seat next to you. “Darling, this is not a lame party. It’s a lovely party. We’ve got amazing decorations, delicious food, firewhisky, gifts under the tree and each other. Are you not happy?” You turn to him, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were so caught up with what people would think rather than when you think. “Of course, I was being stupid. This is a lovely Christmas, thank you Enzo.”
His smile turns cheeky. “Yeah, I kind of saved your Christmas eve. Didn’t I?” You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, yes you definitely saved my evening.” Enzo licks his lips in a mischievous way. “A kiss on the cheek?! That's all a guy gets for saving Christmas?” You laugh at his dramatics. You fake a scoff and get up from your seat. “Enzo, have you no shame.” Suddenly he grabs you pulling you into his lap, a giggle escaping your lips. “No.” He states and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fine.” You kiss him softly and bite his lip softly while purposely pressing your chest against his, giving him more than he bargained for. The kiss deepens and his hand slips to your thighs resting there and gently squeezing. “I definitely know some guys who’re going to be jealous when they hear about this party.” “Shut up, Enzo.” You say playfully before kissing him again.
Theo
Theodore Nott? Unbelievable? To avoid any snarky comments you decide to diss yourself before he gets the chance. “Welcome to the most boring Christmas party ever.” Theodore simply snorts at your fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sure, I just came from the world’s most boring Christmas party.” You huff. “Wow, I suck even in organising lame parties.” Theo looks around. “Pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as a party.” You narrow your eyes, how does he manage to always have the last word.
“What are you doing here, Nott?” You ask as your frustration with Theo beats the sadness over your party. “If I remember correctly you said my Christmas enthusiasm was as overrated as my academic skills.” Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. women and their need to remember every stupid thing he says. “Sounds like me, probably was me. But clearly I’m desperate… so, do you take in strays?” Your attitude disappears as you look at him, he was in his way sincerely asking if he could stay.
“Of course. You’re very welcome.” Your voice comes out with a little more doubt than planned, but Theo takes your welcome anyway. You both sit opposite of one another. “You must be really desperate if you came to my party?” You ask softly, no snarkiness in your tone. “You must be really desperate for a guest if you let me in, after all I’ve not been my kindest self around you.” You look at the food on your plate. “I’m really desperate, since obviously no one bothered to show up aside from you. But also I can see the humor in most of the insults you throw at me.” A warm smile appears on the slytherin’s face, feeling understood and a little less bad.
For the most part your evening is filled with humorous insults and snarky comments, but as time passes your rivalry ebbs away. The conversations get more serious and Theo almost exclusively has words of endearment for you. His softness envelopes you and your Christmas joy finds its way to Theodore. After lounging on the couch for a while you pull yourself back up. “Gifts? I’ve got four and they’re all for you.” He growls gutturally. “I don’t like gifts, plus I don’t have one for you.” You frown. “Who doesn’t like gifts? You absolute weirdo.” Theo laughs at your unfiltered opinion of him. He pushes himself to sit straight and watches you pick out the first gift. You don’t see how fragile he looks as he watches your gentleness.
When you go sit next to him and joyfully present him the gift he looks in your eyes. “Come on.” You urge like an impatient child. “Fine, but me first.” You frown and purse your lips. “You said you didn’t have anything.” Out of his pocket a fumbled piece of paper appears. “It’s not something I wanted to share, but it’s Christmas right, so why not.” He nonchalantly pushes it to you, waving the paper impatiently, like he wants to be rid of it. When you take it he looks away avoiding your confused gaze. You ignore his bizarre behavior and gently unfold the paper, revealing a sketch of you: you paying attention during class, probably transfigurations.
Theo’s still looking at anything but you. You shuffle closer to him and cup his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You drew this? I love it. Thank you.” “You’re a bit of a distraction during class. Probably why I’ve been picking on you.” A soft laugh rolls over your lips when you hear his confession. “And how do I distract you? As you can see all I do is pay attention like a good student.” You hold the sketch up to him as proof. “You do a lot more than that, (y/n). You get me thinking.” You can’t contain your smile. “I get you thinking? How awful of me.” He hisses at your mockery, but when he closes what little space there was between the two of you, your confidence fades. “You have me thinking about doing this” His lips catch yours, he kisses you with so much passion your whole body goes crazy for him in an instant. When he finally releases you, your head feels hazy. “What’s that all about?” Theo grins, enjoying the obvious effect he has on you. “This is my Christmas spirit, I’m feeling generous.” Is all he says before he pushes you to lay on the couch and continues to kiss you with unrelenting passion.
Mattheo
You hear noise at the door and turn to look at it slowly open. You hold your breath, still holding the plate as Mattheo Riddle walks in. Holding flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He looks at you, but you just stare quietly and then he looks around the room. “Oh, I’m too late. I’m so sorry.”
Mattheo Riddle, Slyhterin bad boy, Slytherin trouble maker, son of the dark lord, most handsome guy in your year - maybe even all of Hogwarts - show up to your lame Christmas party with flowers and apologies. Weird. You had indeed invited him, when you announced that everyone was welcome during potions class but you were pretty sure he was among the people making fun of you.
You snapped out of your thoughts, someone was here, you were in no position to be picky about who it was. “No, you’re not late.” He looks confused at the empty seats. “Then where is everyone?” You look around feeling exposed, but look back up at his questioning face. You bite your lip, trying to think of a lame excuse but finding none. “Uhm, no one showed up, except for you.” You eventually manage to say, eyes getting glassy. Mattheo makes a soft ‘oh’ sound and you quickly try to get rid of the awkward situation.
“There’s plenty of food if you wanna stay. And also four gifts for you, since you know no one showed up.” Mattheo stays silent for a few seconds. “But you don’t have to stay, this probably isn’t your ideal Christmas eve.” The slytherin simply shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything better to do and the food looks divine.” You can’t help but chuckle as the awkwardness ebbs away. “Flowers for the hostess.” He offers you the lovely winter bouquet he had been holding. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you take them and conjure a vase.
Dining together has you feeling like you’ve known Mattheo your whole life. You’re surprised by so many things he tells you, but most of all by how easy it is to talk to him. After the desert you make your way to the couch near the Christmas tree. With the table between the two of you gone things feel different and you both fall silent. “You were actually the last person I thought would show up and yet here we are. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. Because I definitely have.”
Mattheo stares at you fondly but doesn’t say anything. “Anyways let’s start with the gifts.” As you stand up to reach for one of the gifts Mattheo pulls you down. You now sit so close that your hips are touching and he’s still holding on to your wrist. “This whole evening has been wonderful. You’re wonderful, (y/n).” It sounds like a love confession and you hold your breath. “And at the risk of ruining this evening, I would like to kiss you. Is that okay with you?” Your heart melts, you can’t believe this and no one at Hogwarts will ever believe this. You nod softly, insecure about what you’re getting yourself into.
His hand holds your cheek and you lean in as his lips reach yours, light as a feather his lips brush yours. Ever so slowly Mattheo deepens the kiss, making you go crazy with desire for more. When you lay your hand on his leg for support he sees it as a signal that you are comfortable with him and snakes an arm behind you to pull you closer. Only when the kiss ends do you realize you’re laying in his arms. “When I said let's start with the gifts I didn’t know one of the gifts was wrapped up with a tie and good looks.” You joke as you undo his already loose tie. He smirks as he watches you all comfortable and confident in his arms.
His free hand reaches for your leg urging you come sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He pulls you in for another tender kiss. “I did actually bring a gift for you. So if you really want to unwrap-“ You cut him off by slamming your lips into his with passion and eagerness. He complies and pulls you closer into him until there’s no space left. “And here I thought you were all innocent and cute.” Mattheo says, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. “I’m, I’m just being a good hostess by making sure my one and only guest is having a good time.” Mattheo’s face lights up with genuine happiness. “No doubt you’re a good hostess, pretty sure you would make a wonderful girlfriend as well.”
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Oliver Quick X Reader: The birthday boy
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Warnings: smut, dom reader, sub Oliver, penetration (p in v), fingering, oral (m receiving), cream pie, mirror sex, dirty talk, cowgirl, choking.
Word Count: 2,4K
“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”
Oliver turned around at the sound of your voice. He’d been so focused on how everything had gone to shit that he hadn’t really had the time to enjoy the party. His party. You looked pretty, all dressed up in what Oliver could only imagine was supposed to be some sort of fae costume.  
You passed him the bottle you were holding. He grabbed it from you and took a swing. 
“I guess I'm not.”
“Sorry what?”
It was hard to hear each other through the blaring music. You leaned closer to Oliver so that you could listen better. He tilted his head up so his lips were near your ear.
“You’re right. I'm not having fun.”
You gave him an exaggerated pout before leaning back down to whisper in his ear.
“Want me to change that?”
Oliver looked at you watching the sultry look that made its way into your eyes as you smirked.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Come with me.”
You grabbed Oliver's hands, dragging him through the crowd of people. From time to time someone would try to talk to you but you’d just wave them off. Oliver enjoyed it. He liked feeling like he was more important than those other people. And he was. To you at least. 
The entire house seemed to be filled to the brim with people yet somehow the moment you got to the hall that led to your room there wasn’t anyone around. You could sense the questions swimming around Oliver's head.
“It's basic etiquette.”
“What is?” 
“Not going near peoples rooms. Rooms are private. Not to be used or seen by anyone other than the owner.”
“I’ve been in the rooms.”
“Well yeah. Cause you’re special.”
Your words sent shivers down Oliver's arms. What had he gotten himself into? Ever since he’d arrived at Saltburn you’d been nothing but kind to him. You understood each other in a way that the others didn't. After all, both of you were only temporary guests here. You were Venetias friend and even though this was the second summer you’d spent at Saltburn you still felt out of place. Oliver's arrival had been a surprise. And a pleasant one at that.
You’d found him wandering the grounds one day and from that moment on the two of you had become close. Even though Oliver had never told you the truth he knew you’d understand. You were like him after all. And perhaps that's why he felt comfortable walking into your room and sitting on your bed. Or maybe it was the silent promise that had filled the air as soon as you’d called out his name downstairs. 
“I have a gift for you.” 
“Oh really?”
“Yeah,wanna see?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, close your eyes.”
Oliver did as you asked, shutting his eyes and relaxing into your bed. His fingers moved over the silk sheets. He could hear you moving around the room due to the clack of your heels on the floor. Oliver wanted to see what you were up to but he also wanted to be a good boy for you. He knew how much you enjoyed bossing people around. He was quite fond of it too so he decided to force his curiosity out of his brain and channel as much patience as he could.
You observed Oliver as you got ready, a smile spreading across your face as you noticed his head following you around the room. You turned around to look at yourself in the vanity mirror. Once you’d made sure everything was the way you wanted you slipped your heels off and made your way to Oliver. Oliver felt your well manicured hands on his shoulder causing him to instinctively grab onto your waist. You laughed at the action, manoeuvring yourself so that you were sitting comfortably in Oliver's lap. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your neck but his eyes remained shut. You caressed his hair, placing a kiss to his forehead.
“You’ve been a good boy haven’t you?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Didn’t give any peaks right?”
“No.”
“Well then I think good boys deserve rewards don't they?”
Oliver nodded, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips. 
“Go on, Ollie, open your eyes.”
Oliver opened his eyes slowly, a shuddered breath leaving his lips once his gaze caught onto your frame. His hands made their way over the lacy fabric you had on, eyes skimming over the parts of skin that were barely covered. 
“Gosh.”
“You like it?”
“I love it. Thank you.”
“Oh this isn't your gift Ollie. This was just something I got for myself.”
“So what did you get me?”
‘You, my darling boy, get to rip this off me and fuck me until your name is the only thing i still remember how to say.”
Oliver stared at you with his blue puppy eyes. You would never get tired of the way he looked at you. Such devotion. Such desperation. Such lust. You smirked at the brunette.
“You up for it baby?”
“Do you have to ask?”
In a matter of seconds Oliver had managed to drag you off his lap and flipped you around so that you were positioned beneath him. You wrapped your legs around his waist eagerly. Oliver knew you’d told him he was allowed to go fast and as much as his dick begged for him to just plunge into you he had another plan. He took his time kissing your body all over. He loved the whines you’d let out whenever his tongue lapped over your skin. You wanted to tell him to hurry up but it was his birthday so you decided to let him go at his own pace. And boy was it worth the wait.
Oliver's hands found their way to the top of your lingerie, fingers moving slowly against your nipples before deciding to free your breasts. As soon as your tits were free Oliver’s mouth latched onto them. Your hands curled into his hair as he sucked your tits, a moan of satisfaction leaving your lips. Any other time you would have been worried about being too loud but given how loud the music downstairs you had nothing to worry about. Oliver continued his path down your body. Each new patch of skin that was revealed was lavished by his warm tongue before he allowed himself to remove more of your clothing. He eventually got to the part you’d been needing the most attention. His fingers grazed against your hip bone as he tugged the final piece off your body.
“Ass up.”
You did as Oliver asked, lifting your hips off the bed so that he could slip the lace off your body entirely. Oliver hissed as he felt your pussy brush against his dick. You gave him a cheeky smile. He smirked at you and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips. Your mouth parted into a moan when you felt him plunge a digit into your cunt. It slipped in with ease. You’d been thinking about this since you stepped out of the shower so it was safe to say that you were soaked. Oliver gave an encouraging moan as he placed another finger inside. He curled his fingers and you moaned.
“Such pretty noises.”
“Ollie…ugh shit.”
You threw your head back, your body rising off the bed as Oliver began moving his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. You reached out for him, your hands moving towards his neck. He lifted his chin slightly, his eyes closing as he felt your fingers wrap around his throat. You gave him a squeeze causing a broken groan to leave his lips. 
“Come on baby. Make me cum.”
Oliver's blue orbs found yours a feral look passing over them before he grabbed onto your leg and pushed it up. The new position allowed him to hit your g-spot perfectly. Your hands tightened around his neck as your eyes rolled back into your head, his name leaving your lips in a loud moan. You heard him moan, his hips launching forward as his fingers kept moving inside you. Even in your euphoric state you could tell Oliver had just cum in his pants and the thought alone made you feel even more desperate to have him inside you. Oliver removed his fingers from your pussy making you let out a whimper. He placed his fingers into his mouth and sucked. You watched him palm himself with one hand as he cleaned your juices off the other one. 
“Such a good boy for me.”
You sat up in bed, your hands making their way to Oliver's hips. He removed his hand from his dick so that you could see his cum stained pants.
“You made a mess didn’t you?”
Oliver nodded, removing his fingers from his mouth with a pop.
“Want me to help you clean it up?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes please.”
“That's better.”
You rose to your feet causing Oliver to take a step back. You glanced around the room, your eyes falling on the chair near your vanity.
“How about a change of scenery?”
Oliver looked at where you had gestured to with your head, a small grin forming on his face as he understood what you were suggesting. 
“Whatever you want, pretty.”
“Go sit for me. Legs spread and arms behind your back.”
Oliver did as he was told. He walked over to the chair and sat down, making sure it was angled in a way so that you could stay between his legs comfortably and so that he had a view of the mirror before him. Once you saw Oliver had settled in the chair the way you’d told him to you made your way to him. You walked slowly, making sure he could see every inch of your body as you did. Oliver's hands figited behind him and as much as he wished he could just tug you over to him he knew the rules. And he would follow them. Finally you got to Oliver, dropping to your knees before him. You reached for his pants, unbuttoning them as you stared into Oliver's eyes. He let out a breath as your hands found their way into his pants tugging his dick free. He was only semi-hard but you’d fix that in a moment. 
“You know the rules baby. No looking.”
Oliver gave you a pout.
“It’s my birthday.”
“Rules are rules.”
He let off a huff before moving his face to the side.
“That's a good boy.”
Oliver watched as his reflections mouth fell open with a moan. HIs brows furrowed as you continued to place kisses and licks on his dick. It was only when you wrapped your lips around him that he realised he could see your reflection. You placed your other mirror directly in front of your vanity which allowed him to watch you without actually looking at you.
“Oh you cheeky thing.”
You glanced at the mirror on the other side of the room blowing Oliver a kiss before moving your attention back to his dick. After a bit of sucking as carresing you managed to get Oliver hard again. You rose to your feet, your fingers going to Oliver's chin. He turned to face you. You smiled down at him.
“Ready for me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you aren’t forgetting something?”
Oliver looked at you questioningly.
“Your pants baby.”
Oliver understood immediately, moving to raise his hips so that you could tug his pants off his body. You looked down at his fully nude body with a grin.
“Perfect.”
You moved forward placing your thighs on either side of Olivers. His hands latched on your waist as his lips moved to kiss the valley of your breasts. You wound your hands around Oliver's neck, fingers grasping his hair before giving it a tug. 
“Eyes on me baby.”
Oliver looked up at you, his eyes never leaving your face as you sank down onto him. 
“Oh Ollie!”
“Feel so good darlin’-fuck-ugh.”
You ground yourself against Oliver's dick before beginning to bounce up and down. Oliver helped you out, his hands gripping your body as he guided your movements. You placed your hands on his knees giving you more leverage. Oliver glanced back at the mirror, his eyes following your movements through the reflection. The sight of you bouncing yourself on his dick was almost enough to make him cum again but he decided that this time he wanted to last longer so he opted for turning back to you. One of his hands found their way to your pussy, his finger moving to give your clit some attention. The moan that left your mouth was down right sinful and it made Oliver's chest rise in pride. He was the one making you feel good. Not any of those idiots downstairs. Him.
“Ollie…”
“You close?”
“Yeah baby…please Ollie please.”
He loved seeing you beg for him like this. It made him feel like a fucking king. But seeing you cum made him feel like a God. And he’d much rather be a God than a king. So before you could even process what was happening Oliver had leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple. The movements of his finger on your clit got faster as he sucked your breast and in seconds you were done for. You came with a scream of Oliver's name, your body sagging forwards. Olivers was close too but he needed a little something more to reach his peak. He called out your name causing you to raise your head from his shoulder.
“Yes Ollie?”
“What if I had been a-ugh shit- bad…boy?”
You understood what he was asking for. You moved your hands to wrap around his neck. You gave his throat a squeeze as you learned to whisper in his ear.
“Well then I'd have to punish you.”
Oliver groaned out your name, his hips bucking wildly as he filled you up with his seed. He threw his head back, his eyes looking at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. You leaned into his body, placing a kiss to his cheek.
“Did you like your present?”
“I loved it. Thank you darling.”
“Anything for my best boy.”
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her-devils-advocate · 10 days
Text
Home, love, family
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pairings: Levi Ackerman x reader
genre: fluff
summary: It has been some time since the fighting had ended, the world has started to move on and you find yourself doing the same.
You and Levi decide it is time to start taking the next step towards enjoying the future you fought for.
word count: 1,787
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56315470
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After years spent fighting towards a dream, an ideal world without titans and worry, you now find yourself standing within that once unrealistic future. It didn't come without sacrifice, each tally on your heart continues to weigh it down to this day, but you refuse to stop carrying the souls of your friends. Some part of you likes to believe that while you live on while carrying their memory, they get to experience this new life by your side, wherever they may be.
The world isn't as you had hoped, the price paid seems too high for some, yet you are content to try and put it behind you as much as possible. You fought for too long and lost too much to not make the most of the new world. A sentiment you're glad to share with Levi.
You now stand in awe as you survey the large clearing in the forest, the trees forming a new, more natural wall around you. The ancient bark twists towards the sky and erupts into a sea of green above, you were surprised to see such a gorgeous sight had evaded the rumbling at first, already used to the muddy barren land you and many others had found themselves in.
Your eyes widen when they finally fall on the small, cosy cottage sat proudly within. Flowers surround the building, attracting the attention of the perfectly round bumblebees nearby, happily flittering between each bud without a care in the world. You watch them hover with a small smile, maybe you can finally experience a similar life, having been freed of the bonds of duty. Now free to spend your days working to provide a life for you and Levi, rather than the future of mankind.
You're so distracted by your thoughts that you fail to notice Levi slowly approaching you, taking the time to remove the few bags you had brought from the car.
"And just when I thought we had escaped living behind walls." He mutters as you move to take the bags off him, shooting him a glare as he puts up a small fight despite his cane.
"Oh hush, this is different. We have all the privacy in the world here, a quiet place just for you, me and whoever we allow to visit." You cannot help but grimace, that list of people has grown shockingly short. You shake your head, refusing to let that train of thought continue its rampage through your mind, there are always new bonds to be forged alongside flowers to lay against cold stone memorials.
Noticing your falling mood, Levi steps forward to take the bags back one more, only to place them on the stepping stones leading towards your new home. He then lays his cane on top, before carefully making his way towards you.
Before you can ask him what he's doing, he scoops you up with ease. One hand is securely around your back while the other rests under your knees. The action brings a small squeak out from your lips, the surprise rendering you speechless as you wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him with wide eyes. He rolls his eyes at your darkening cheeks before walking towards the door, giving it a swift kick all while happily ignoring the offended look you give him in return.
“Hey! We haven’t even officially moved in yet and you’re already being rough with the place.” Your expression downplays your words and you find it hard to keep up the stern tone for long.
“Tch, it’s fine. Do you see any damage? No. Anyways, I’d fix it if there was, it’s not like we don’t have the time for that now.”
You don’t bother to reply, letting the back-and-forth drop before it can grow. Instead, you take the time to study his face, carefully following the jagged scars running along one side of his face. You slowly unwrap one of your hands and bring it to gently stroke along the scar, smiling tenderly as he subtly leans into the action. His eyes are tired, something you are well acquainted with, but recently you have noticed a new light shining within the grey of his eyes, a peace that neither of you had experienced bringing new sensations to your life.
“Time… We have all the time we need now.” You echo his sentiment, watching his eyes soften as he looks down at you with a small smile. You will never get tired of seeing that expression on his face, soaking up the rare sight each time while doing your best to lure it out of him whenever you can. You are momentarily brought back to reality when you feel him shift you in his arms, his face betraying nothing despite the way he continues to favour one of his legs and has swapped to leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing?” You question as your hands come up to straighten out his cravat, the silky material having fallen loose during the long journey you had just taken.
“Carrying you.” His voice is monotone, yet you can feel the mix of exasperation and amusement within his words. You give him a look that shows just how unimpressed you are, you fight off a small grin when he rolls his eyes and continues, “If you didn’t want that answer, you should have been more specific.”
“Okay then, why are you carrying me when last time I checked, I’m not the one with the injured leg?”
At that, he scoffs yet makes no move to release you. Instead, his grip on you tightens and you watch as a small blush dusts his cheeks. He avoids your eyes, instead peering into the half-empty cottage awaiting your arrival. 
“Isn’t it a tradition to carry your partner across the threshold of your new home?” His voice is low and his head is held even lower as he does his best to casually hide his expression from your prying eyes. You can’t fight off your blush, now painting your cheeks with a rosy hue to pair with his.
You open your mouth, only to close it, the words escaping you as you try your best to respond, not wanting to leave him squirming. “That’s usually done after a wedding unless you have something to tell me. You didn’t marry me in the night, did you?”
You keep your words as playful as you can with your heart threatening to jump out of your chest and mix itself up in your sentences, the hope you had pushed down over the chaotic months now deciding to slowly crawl back into the front of your mind. The small huff of amusement he gives in reply doesn’t help to push the hope back into its confinements. 
“Can’t say I did, that’s something I would want you to remember and knowing you, you’d also make us have some shitty party, with a cake and those brats to celebrate it with.” Levi’s voice is gentle as he gets caught up in his imagination and you find yourself staring up at him, eyes wide with adoration.
“We would have the biggest party, I would invite everyone that we know. You’d be so fed up by the end of the night, utterly sick of the attention and ready to leave.” You rest your head against his chest with a small chuckle, feeling his quiet laughter gently rock your body. 
“I can see that a little bit too well. You would insist on dancing with everyone from our squad and I would end up glaring at one of them, probably Connie, for being clumsy and standing on your foot.” You can hear the affection he continues to hold for your old squad laced in his words and find yourself slowly nodding against his chest, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.
“Connie would absolutely be the one to do that, he would panic and then step on my foot. Then he would see your face and panic even more, calling you “Captain Levi” on instinct despite us being retired now,” you slightly lower your voice and speed up your words to mimic the boy’s voice, earning a scoff from Levi. “Then Jean would tease the poor boy, making him get embarrassed while Armin or Mikasa would try to gently de-escalate the pair.”
“And then I would snatch you away in the middle of the commotion and we would sneak out to finally get to spend time together, you complaining the entire time about not saying goodbye.” He finishes your joint daydream with a fond smile and despite the future scenario, you can’t help but notice how similar it sounds to your time in the Scouts. Never having enough time to properly spend together and always having the squad to lead, yet you can’t say you regret it and looking back, you’ve always had a small, albeit very odd, family by your side. 
Before you can speak that thought aloud, his voice catches your attention once more and you can feel his body tense up. “Well, we might have done this thing backwards, having just bought a house together already. But I’m not wasting any more time, not again.”
“Levi?” You can’t help the shake in your voice, his words causing a multitude of emotions to swirl in your chest.
“The only logical next step to take is to marry you.”
A small gasp escapes from your lips as his gaze burns into you, neither of you willing to look away and break the moment. You feel your eyes begin to water as your heart overflows with joy, but you blink them away, instead letting out a small chuckle.
“You make it sound like it’s a battle tactic.”
“From the previous conversation, it might as well be.” Levi counters quickly and you can feel him slowly begin to relax as he walks through the door, carrying you into your new life together and gently placing you back onto your feet. Before you can take a moment to savour everything, to let the whirlwind of emotions calm down and be processed, you hear him click his tongue in annoyance. You turn to face him, watching as he drags a slender finger across the dark wood of the stairs handrail, his eyebrows drawn together in disgust.
“This place is covered in dust, before we do anything, it needs to be cleaned. Stay put, I’ll get the bag.”
You can’t help the load groan as you watch him drift back outside. You take the short break to mentally prepare yourself for a long day of scrubbing the floors side by side with the man you love.
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beenbaanbuun · 1 month
Text
the ghost - opposites attract universe
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in front of the fire stands a broad shouldered man dressed in furs, staring down at your rug as if it means just as much to him as it does you. you don’t recognise him as a friend of your lovers, although it’s possible that you just haven’t met this one yet. you wrack your brain for names they might have mentioned, but each one that pops up in your mind is someone you’ve met before. that means that this man is a stranger.
you want to call out to him, ask him what the fuck he was doing in your home. perhaps you’d grab yeosang’s attention at the same time; the werewolf may be just a few steps behind you, but he is surprisingly unaware of his surroundings. maybe he’d leap into action, chase the intruder out of the house. but then you blink and the man is gone, completely vanished like he’s some sort of…
ghost…
“did you just see that?” you ask yeosang, the werewolf slowly coming to a stop behind you with a strip of jerky hanging lazily between his lips. he really hasn’t been paying attention to much other than the way your hair shines prettily under the dim candles that light the home, so it’s safe to say that he has no idea what it is you’re talking about. he gives you a questioning hum as he rips the jerky with his teeth.
“see what?” his voice is muffled by the meat that he insists on chewing as he speaks. the sound of his lips smacking sends an unsatisfying shiver down your spine, and your mouth tugs into a frown.
“so i guess the answers no?” you scoff, crossing your arms in irritation, “some guard dog you are; i don’t think you’d be able to spot an intruder if he came up to you and gave you a handshake!”
yeosang doesn’t respond to your insult, merely rolling his eyes before tugging you over to jongho, the rug, to cuddle. always so dramatic, he thinks to himself as he flops onto the floor and gestures for you to join him. you do, lying straight on his chest in a way that seems to force all the air out of his lungs. normally, he’d pin you for that, holding you to the floor until you’re promising him to be more gentle through your honestly insulting giggles. though, he finds that with the lack of air in his lungs, it’s rather difficult to flip the two of you over. next time, he concludes before wrapping his tail protectively around your thigh.
a few hours later, you find yourself in the greenhouse with seonghwa, watching the graceful man tend to his plants as he hums out a pretty tune. yeosang is long gone, deciding to take some alone time after listening to you ramble about your most recent interest, book binding, for as long as he could stand to. he gave you some fake excuse of needing to ask hongjoong about something, but you aren’t quite dumb enough to believe that. especially when you watched him walk in the opposite direction of the office you knew your daddy was in.
still, you don’t really mind having your time away from your friend. it gives you the opportunity to spend time with your lovers without the grumpy mutt offering his snarky comments every few sentences.
“hey, seonghwa?” you say, voice lilting with curiosity as you push yourself up to sit on his work bench. there’s a grimace on his face as he watches your thighs press down against the dirt covered wood, the compost and debris no doubt rubbing into the material of your denim shorts. its fine, he tells himself; it’ll come out with a little manpower… hopefully.
“what is it, lamb?” seonghwa hums as he tugs his cotton gardening gloves from his hands and lays them perfectly straight on the table. his fingertips are painted with a deep shake of purple today, done by hongjoong’s fair hands just the night before. as he lays a hand on your exposed thigh, you can’t help but think that the colour looks pretty against your skin.
“do you think ghosts are real?”
the question takes seonghwa by surprise, you can see by the way his eyes go wide and his blinks slow for just a moment or two. he lets out an inquisitive hum, lips pursing slightly as he tries to think of an answer.
“well, i know they’re real,” seonghwa purrs as he gently spreads your thighs, stepping between them so he can look you in the eyes. he’s pretty from this close up—not that he isn’t always pretty—with his wide eyes twinkling and pink lips so beautifully plush. you so badly want to steal a kiss from him, but you also want to know the answer to your question. you hold back for now; there’ll be plenty of time for kissing later. “why are you asking?”
you almost tell him, but just before the words fall from your lips, you hold back. perhaps telling one of your lovers that you saw a man in their living room would be cause for concern. whilst you’re almost entirely convinced that he was a ghost, the only proof you have is that one moment he was there and the next he wasn’t. it’s very plausible that he was just really good at hiding, or maybe he was just a figment of your imagination. if either of those turn out to be the case, seonghwa will worry. you don’t want that, so you keep your theory to yourself.
“i’m just curious, hwa,” you offer him a smile, but you can tell he sees through it. he gives you a low hum, a single eyebrow cocking an question. the fake smile remains on your face, so he lets it go, understanding that he’s not going to get the truth out of you so easily.
“well, what do you want to know, my darling lamb?” he asks, using a long finger to hook some hair behind your ear, “you never know, i might just have the answers, hm?” the same hand settles on your cheek, palm cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing on earth.
you pause for a moment. what do you want to know about ghosts? you’d come to seonghwa with just the one question in mind; did they exist? he’d answered that one with ease and now you’re stuck on where to go next. realistically, you should probably focus on trying to find out whether the man in the living room was one or not; how on earth are you supposed to do that without revealing the truth?
seonghwa chuckles as he watches your expression contort onto one of concentration. it’s adorable, the way that your worry lines look between your brows. the way you tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, the white enamel now lined with the pretty pink gloss you reapplied not too long ago. if he didn’t think you looked entirely too cute like that, perhaps he’d tell you about it so you could wipe it away. for now, though, he’s happy to sit and bask in your sweetness.
“what’s so difficult about thinking up a question?” seonghwa leans forward to place a kiss to the tip of your nose when he finds that he can no longer hold himself back. the grin on his face as he pulls away is wide. “i can think of a million off the top of my head.”
you me face relaxes as he teases you. a deadpan glare is thrown in his direction, but it does nothing to faze him. he’s still watching you like you hold the world in your hands.
“like what?” you retaliate, mock annoyance laced through your tone.
“like,” he pauses for a second, pouting as he sorts through the wide array of cryptid knowledge that’s stored itself in his brain. you can practically see the lightbulb pop up above his head a few seconds later as he lands on something. “how do ghosts come into existence?”
“someone dies?” you shrug, and seonghwa lets out a chuckle.
“yes, but it’s so much more than that, lamb,” he smiles. there’s a hint of amusement in his face with the way the corners of his lips tilt up, but you ignore it in favour of looking into his adoring eyes. they’re mostly pupil, and the way the light bounces off of them causes them to shine like a hunk of whitby jet. you suck in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart. it almost aches with how much you love him. “if you died right now, there would have to be some sort of physical remains tying you to the real world; a lock of hair, or a splatter of blood.”
or the skin of an onikuma…
oh…
“jongho,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly feeling your chest grow tight at the realisation.
“your rug?” seonghwa tilts his head, “what about it?”
you gulp down the lump in your throat, letting it sit in your stomach as an uneasy ball of emotions instead. you don’t have the time nor energy to sift through them or unpack each of them individually. you’re so close to reaching the bottom of the mystery you’d stumbled upon; you won’t let feelings fuck it up now.
“he’s a demon,” you say, looking into seonghwa’s eyes for confirmation. he nods, “and hongjoong said demons have human forms too?”
“sometimes,” seonghwa concludes, “the onikuma… it’s probable that he disguised himself as a villager from time to time. it would’ve helped him scope his hunting ground better.”
jongho probably had a human form. that ball of emotions—is that excitement?—grows bigger.
“and if you were to kill a onikuma and, i don’t know, keep its hide as a trophy, would he come back as a ghost? do demons even have souls? do you even need a soul to be a ghost? what exactly is a soul?”
a hand slips over your racing mouth, effectively cutting your rambles short, shutting you up. seonghwa relaxedly sighs at the moment of peace.
“not even i understand the ins and outs of everything, my silly little lamb,” he snickers, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, “but i do think i understand what you’re trying to ask in your odd, roundabout way.” he pauses to slowly pull his hand away from your lips. his actions say that he trusts you to remain silent, the pace he’s going at tells you that he’s prepared to put his hand right back where it was if you start rambling again. it pleases him to see your lips sealed in a thin, annoyed line. he hums in amusement, “you know, your precious onikuma will probably come back if you call for him; ghosts like to know that the living still have a need for them.”
“you think?” you ask. seonghwa presses another short kiss to your lips, barely giving you time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away again.
“i know,” he murmurs, “now, go and talk to your bear; leave me to work in peace!”
——————————————
that’s how you end up back in the living room, cross legged on jongho’s back like you have been so many times before. the fire crackles behind you, filling the otherwise silent room with the comforting sound of burning wood. you take a deep breath through your nose, pushing it out through your mouth as you try and expel the anxiety that’s muddled itself with the excitement in your stomach.
“jongho?” you say, speaking the name given to him by you; his real name remained a mystery to you. there’s a cold blast of air behind you, and your neck twists at a whiplash pace, eyes landing on the fireplace. there’s nothing there but the white-hot logs and the flames dancing back and forth across them. it must’ve been a gust of wind down the chimney or something. nothing to frighten you at all.
you huff out a breath of relief before letting your head twist slowly back around…
“is that me?” a voice says as your eyes make contact with a pair of pupils that sit a little too close to be comfortable. you scramble back, a little squeak coming from your lips as you move away from the figure that has appeared in front of you. you come to a step just a foot or two away, chest heaving at the sudden fright the man had given you. if it weren’t for the mop of fuzzy brown hair that resembled the fur on your favourite rug a little too closely to be coincidence perhaps you’d have screamed for help. “jongho, i mean… is that my name?”
he tilts his head like a confused animal, tugging at the brown fur hide that rests upon his shoulders as if the action brings him some sort of comfort. and as you look into his eyes, you realise that he probably needs it. they’re wet, glittering with unshed tears of confusion and stress. he keeps blinking them away, but they come back almost instantly. it’s no surprise to you when the first one rolls down his cheek. he wastes no time in wiping it away.
“does that upset you?” you ask, cautiously, “that i’ve given you a name?”
he shakes his head vigorously.
“i’ve never had a name before,” he clarifies; the thought makes your chest ache. to be given a name is to be loved and this poor creature has none. no names, and therefore no love. you think for a moment about how long he’s lived with no love, but it only makes it hurt more. he was slain hundreds of years ago, and he was probably alive for hundreds more. your eyes begin to burn so you push that thought deep down inside of you. “jongho is a nice one to have as my first.”
your heart breaks for the creature. you’d have to have a talk with hongjoong later; how cruel of him to let his resident ghost go uncared for for so long.
“it is,” you try not to take notice of how strained your voice sounds, “and its yours; you’re jongho, if you’d like be.
the man nods, although the tension in his body doesn’t seem to seep away just yet. his shoulders are still hunched up by his ears, and his fingers still twirl the fur he’s wearing mindlessly. you find yourself grateful that it’s just you and him; you can’t bear to think how nervous he’d be if there was a werewolf looming over your shoulder.
“and… who are you?” he asks shyly, and you take a moment to think. within a few seconds, you settle on an answer and smile to yourself.
“a friend,” you reply.
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thepixelelf · 5 months
Text
Oh Baby, You Part 43 - Your Everything
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I'm Orion's father.
The words don't just shake you. It's like a cold, stone-cut fist digs its way into your chest and pries away each rib just so it can wrap its icy fingers around your heart.
Cruel, cruel Wonwoo. Could he even know how hearing those words on his lips makes you feel? That was your short-lived dream, three years ago. That was the small sliver of hope in the hours after you decided to keep Orion as your own. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Wonwoo and you could’ve started a family, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional way. 
If things were different, he could say I’m Orion’s father, and it wouldn’t be a lie.
“Father.” Seungcheol’s expression leavens with a look you can’t read. You haven’t known him for very long. “You.”
Wonwoo, though— you know Wonwoo. His face shutters over as he solidifies the decision he just made. His jaw clenches. “Yes.”
“And just where have you been all this time?”
“...I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Seungcheol seems to hold in a scoff, and he tilts his head to glance at you before he returns Wonwoo’s glare. “I should think it is. Never fashioned myself a homewrecker.”
“We’re not together,” you blurt out, grasping to the only bit of truth within reach.
And then Wonwoo looks at you, and the fist around your heart lets go. A fire fills your lungs.
How dare he look hurt. How dare he show up out of nowhere, lie about the one thing you wished with your whole heart was true, then look hurt when you tell the actual truth. 
Seungcheol opens his mouth, but you leave him no room to speak. “You.” Wonwoo startles a bit when you jab your finger in his direction, then towards your apartment entryway. “Inside. You.” Your eyes meet Seungcheol’s. “Go home.”
A sizzling silence settles in the air.
Wonwoo’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh, and to your surprise, he walks into your apartment without another word. Seungcheol, though, makes no move to walk away. God, you just want him to walk away.
Fine. “I’ll call you.”
At your white flag, Seungcheol’s eyes brighten with a slight smile. He holds out the flowers he brought. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Yeah. Okay. Bye.” You snatch the bouquet and close the door between you two.
When you step back into your apartment, Wonwoo is standing just past the coat tree, one hand in his pants pocket, a solemn face on as he studies the pattern of your flooring. For the first time, you notice a small bundle of blue flowers in his other hand. He looks up at you, but he waits for you to speak.
“What was that?”
He shrugs. “I… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Wonwoo, that was ridiculous! It was impulsive, stupid— I don’t even know why you would claim something like that, or what you’re even doing here—”
“The broken pot.” Wonwoo crosses his arms, the forget-me-nots half disappearing behind his elbow. “Minghao gave it to me, but that was you, wasn’t it?”
He phrases it like a question, but you know it’s not one. Something like an answer bubbles up your throat, but you choke it down. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“The pot,” he emphasizes, followed by your name. So simple, to hear your own name, but from his mouth, it almost hurts.
Exasperated, you lift your hands in the air only to drop them by your sides. “Why does it matter?”
“Because if you did it for the reason I think you did, then…”
“Then what?” you prompt when he trails off.
“Then you still care about me.”
His words hang uncomfortably in the air. You open your mouth, shut it, then cross your own arms. He just keeps his eyes on you, making you unable to look away.
You sigh. “And what of it?”
His eyes flash at your unspoken confirmation, and he takes a step closer. Slowly, he pulls the bouquet of tulips from you and replaces it with the forget-me-nots, putting his hands over yours to curl your fingers around the stems and delicate white ribbon. “I care about you too. I never stopped.”
You stare down at the flowers. “Wonwoo…”
“I want to apologize.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “For so much… but mostly for failing you. You wanted my help and I— I abandoned you. I didn’t trust you.” Releasing a long breath, he drops his head. “This isn’t an excuse, and it’s worse because I never told you, but I was so… insecure. I’d moved away, and I was so, so scared that I made a mistake. It felt like I did— I missed you so much. And I was scared you’d realize it one day, realize that I fucked up and I didn’t deserve you and you deserved someone who would stay in the country for you because you deserved everything, but if I went home then the time I’d already spent there — the time I spent without you — would be for nothing. And then I heard you did find someone better. Or… fuck, I thought you found someone better. I just broke. I’m sorry.” He raises his hand to lift your chin with one finger. “I’m sorry.”
Your eyes are watering. When did that happen?
“I still want to apologize, and keep apologizing,” he continues. “I want you to know how sorry I am for doing that to you.”
“I…”
“And if that’s ever enough, after everything I’ve done…” He glances down at your lips, then meets your eyes again. “...I want to go back to how we were. Before. When things were good.” He leans closer. “Better than good…”
Your eyes flutter shut.
“Mama?”
Alert in a matter of nanoseconds, you shove Wonwoo away and turn towards your son, who’s emerged from nap time, pyjamas askew. He’s dragged the large, green dinosaur plush along with him. That darn thing— he found it soon after his birthday and has hardly let it go since.
“Orion.” After placing the blue flowers on the counter, you go to him and scoop him up into your arms, soothing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry baby, did we wake you up?”
“Mama,” he says again, then cups both his hands around your ear to whisper in the way a child does. Which is to say, not at all. “Bad guy is here.”
You pull your head back. “Bad guy?”
He nods, looks over at Wonwoo, then wraps his arms behind your neck and hides his face in your shoulder. Following your son’s example, you look at Wonwoo as well. The weight sinks in.
Orion’s getting bigger every day. At some point, you won’t be able to just carry him like this. He’ll never be as small as he was, and you’ll never be who you were before he came into your life.
“I’m sorry too, Wonwoo.” You hug Orion close. He’s already drifting back to sleep in your arms, so you speak softly. “But don’t you see? We can’t go back to things as they were. My life will never be like before.”
Wonwoo inhales. Exhales. Says nothing.
You don’t let his grim expression deter you. “I have a son now, and I’m— I’m not the same person you knew. If you want to go back to how we were… I’m sorry. I’m not that person anymore. I’m a parent.”
“I…”
“Whatever I’m a part of, Orion’s going to be part of it too. You understand, right?”
When Wonwoo stays silent, you release a resigned breath. Even though it’s reasonable, you still feel the ache of disappointment. Of course Wonwoo wouldn’t want to be the father of another man’s child. Of course you’re not worth it. Of course.
You pat Orion’s back. “Let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
Walking deeper into your apartment, you decide you don’t want to be around to watch Wonwoo leave. Better to save yourself the heartbreak. Once Orion’s tucked in with his stuffed dino, you busy yourself with picking his toys up off the floor and putting them in their respective bins.
You come out of the room with your eyes on the floor, but your head snaps up when he says your name.
“Wonwoo?” What are you still doing here?
He stands exactly where you left him; he didn’t move an inch.
“If…” he starts, nervously tapping his finger on his leg but keeping his eyes on yours with the determination of a soldier. “Would it be foolish to say I want everything?”
“Everything?”
“Your everything.”
The breath in your lungs hitches, and your hand rises to your chest, hovering over where your heart has paused in anticipation. “Even…?”
“Everything,” he says again. 
You gulp down the hope that rises like bile up your throat. “I think… I think it would be a little foolish.” Your voice wavers. “I don’t have much to offer anymore.”
At that admission, Wonwoo strides up to you and cups your cheek, his fingertips brushing your ear. You shiver as he presses a warm kiss to your forehead. “Don’t say that.”
“I…” Your heart hammers against your ribs. His kisses have always been your weakness, but the memory of his lips upon your skin is a stark reminder of the years since the last time you thought he loved you. “...I still haven’t forgiven you.” There. The last shield you have the strength to put up today.
Wonwoo backs away, but his hand runs down your arm to tangle your fingers with his. “I know,” he says with a sad smile. “I don’t deserve it yet.”
“Yet?”
He moves to grasp your hand firmly. “Will you let me try? To deserve it?”
“It’s not that simple,” you whisper.
“Maybe not.” Tilting his head, he roams his eyes over your face, the way he used to years ago. “But I still want to try.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. One last, flimsy barrier. “Alright, then.” Deep, dark eyes meet yours. “Try.”
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symbiomancy · 2 months
Text
movie —getō suguru
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—summary: You can't decide on an outfit to wear to the movies.
—cw: f!reader, brother x sister, p in v sex, creampie, foreplay // AO3 ver
—wc: 3,8k (send help)
—note: can't decide if suguru is a third year in high school or a first-year in university :/
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Suguru leans against your doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He takes a moment to survey your room, the clothes strewn across the floor, even more clothes piled onto your computer chair, a mountain of makeup items on your desk. With any luck you’ll clean up before he plans to vacuum tomorrow afternoon but knowing you, he’ll end up sorting through everything and cleaning up for you.
Ah, the  things he does for the sake of your company.
His eyes snap up from the floor when you step out from behind the closet, pulling a shirt over your head, the zipper of your skirt fisted in your free hand to keep it from slipping off.
“We’re going to be late,” he says and you visibly jump, tug the shirt over your head, hair sticking out in every direction. You frown at him, grab the first shirt off the floor your hand finds and throw it at his head. He catches it with ease, stares at you with an unamused look.
“Pervert,” you say, turning to the full-length mirror resting against the wall. “I can’t get these stupid socks to stay up.” You lift a leg to show off your white over the knee sock; its’ top curls into itself with the movement, slides down your knee.
“C’mere.” Suguru pushes off the doorway, beckons you along with the sweep of his hand. He piles your array of decorative pillows and stuffed animals to one side of the bed, just enough to give himself room to sit, and pats his thigh. You pull the packet of double-sided tape from the nightstand next to your bed, press it into his waiting hand, and sit on his lap. Suguru raises a brow at the back of your neck but doesn’t say anything, busies himself with peeling the strips of tape from the glossy paper to not be distracted by the way you squirm in his lap, his cock pressing against your ass.
He presses the pieces of tape against your thigh, then tugs the over-the-knee sock up. “Press down,” he says, breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. You clear your throat, let him adjust your fingers, and do as he says. Suguru places the tape onto your other thigh, pulls the sock over it and presses down, hands cupped around your thigh so everything adheres.
They’re warm, large. Sturdy. He cooks, he cleans — he folds your knees over your shoulders with them. Simple black rings adorn his fingers. His nail polish is chipping; you’re not sure if you have any black left. You make a mental note to grab a bottle from the store on your way home from the movie.
“There.” He tentatively releases his hold on your thigh. The ghost of his touch lingers, thrums beneath your skin. You peel yourself from his lap and skitter over to your mirror, do a twirl, lift one leg and then the other, drop into a crouch and stand again. The socks and their tape stay in place. You flash him a grin from the mirror, blow him a kiss that he catches, presses against his cheek. Warmth blooms in your chest.
Suguru lets himself flop onto his back, fishing his phone from his pocket to check the time. If you manage to get off your ass and get dressed in the next 15 minutes you might actually make it to the movie. 10 minutes, if you want to grab something from the concession stand. He navigates to the cinema’s homepage to check if and when there are any screenings for tomorrow. Then again, cleaning with you in the house is a day-long activity.
You frown at your reflection. Now that the socks stay up, you realize the pretty lace at the top doesn’t go with your skirt. It drops into an unceremonious pile on the floor as you unzip it and beeline over to your closet to flip through the skirts piled on their shelf. Maybe you should do a thorough try-on one day and get rid of everything you haven’t worn in a while or will never wear again. Bet your big brother would like that. You conjure an image of his heavy, heated gaze, staring at you through lidded eyes, a finger raised in a signal to give him a pretty twirl. The mere idea of it sends a jolt of excitement through your very being and you bury your face into the smooth fabric of a white skirt and squeal.
“You weren’t any more or less dressed when I got in the shower. Half an hour ago.” Suguru glances up from his phone just as you’ve stepped into the white skirt, tugging the zipper up.
“Yes, I was.” You stare at your reflection in the mirror. “Fuck, I need a new shirt.”
“What did I say about swearing?”
Heat erupts in your cheeks, in your ears, rolls into your torso and spreads into your extremities.
Suguru tucks away his phone, looks at you from his spot between the round migrating plushies, swats one away with his hand. It rolls off the bed. When you lean forward to grab a shirt from the ground, Suguru gets a full view of your ass, the curve of your cunt just barely peeking out. He places a hand over his half-hard cock, palms it through his pants. “The fuck are you wearing? That’s not underwear; that’s silly string between your ass.”
“Is so.” Your hand shoots to your behind, tucks the skirt hem against your cheeks. “You can see it through the fabric can’t you?”
“That too.” Even if there’s barely anything to see, he thinks, but doesn’t bother verbalizing it.
You frown, brows furrowed, and turn your lower body to check your reflection in the mirror. It’s not noticeable unless you know where to look, but if you lean forward… The skirt hikes up when you test it and you make an indignant noise in the back of your throat, stand up ramrod straight.
“Seriously?” You tug on the back of your skirt again, lean forward. It hikes up again, pussy on full display.
Suguru has tucked his phone back into his pocket, now upright again, sitting on the edge of your bed, elbows resting on his knees. He eyes the flimsy fabric, the way you flash your pretty little cunt at him every time you try to bend over and the skirt hikes up. A warmth curls at the base of his spine and his cock jerks in his pants, tenting the material. He stands.
You don’t even notice he’s moved at all until he stops behind you, swings an arm around your front, pulls you flush against him. He rolls his hips against your ass, cock straining in his pants. You push back against his body, delight in the little gasp it elicits from him, so breathy. “See what you do to me?” He mutters, words muffled against the side of your neck. “Are you going to take responsibility for getting your big brother like this?”
You hum, a denial on the tip of your tongue as you lean forward to adjust your frilly socks, and Suguru’s body follows, arms still tightly wound around your waist. His cock presses against your barely-covered pussy, drags the fabric just enough to send a jolt to your core, heat pooling between your legs. You take an even breath in, ignore the heat of his breaths against your skin.
“That’s a you problem, pervert.”
Suguru releases his grip on you, tilts his head just enough to catch your eye in the mirror; one which you immediately turn your gaze away from to stare at your socked feet, hands working on smoothing down the wrinkles in your skirt. Maybe this one won’t do, either. You very pointedly don’t look up when his hands rest on your shoulders and he coaxes you to turn around to face him.
He leans forward, wraps his arms around your thighs and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal, hands finding purchase in the back of his black shirt, and his own hand smacks against your ass with a crisp smack and you nearly squeal again. Suguru turns, stalks across the room and drops you onto the spot he’d cleared on your bed, although it has once again been overtaken by your round forever migrating plushies. They bounce with you, several dropping to the ground and rolling away.
You barely have enough time to reorient yourself when his hands close around your ankles and tug you over to the edge of the bed. He leans in, one knee placed on the very edge of your bed, just shy of your cunt, hands on either side of your head. His hair is messy, strands falling out of the half-up style he’s sporting.
“Now is that any way to talk to your big brother?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead with a hum. “I cook for you, clean, help you with your homework, let you climb into my bed because you’re so afraid of the dark—”
Your hand strikes out, aiming for his side but he catches it, fingers wrapping tightly around yours. He lifts it to his face and presses a kiss against the inside of your wrist. “S-Sorry,” you croak out with what must amount to a grimace, not an attempt at a smile.
“I take care of you… I spoil you rotten, and you call me a pervert.” He tuts. “I can look at you if I want to; you were made for me. These hands,” he spreads your fingers, laces them with his, “this face,” his eyes land on you, half-lidded and smoldering, and heat erupts under your skin, blooms in your face and you have the sudden desire to shy away from him, burrow between the blankets and never look at him again. “This body — this pussy.” He brings his knee forward, presses it against your cunt, smears your arousal against the jean fabric. Your mouth falls open, back arching, hips bucking into him. “Everything about you was made for me. Just me.”
The world swims. You breathe in, nearly choke on it when Suguru adjusts his knee, the coarse jean fabric dragging against your throbbing pussy. He’s so good, always knows how to take care of you, better than anyone.
“Say it.”
“What?” You blink, mind fuzzy, composure fraying at the edges.
“You were made for me.”
“I was made for you.”
“Good girl.” Suguru leans in, presses his face to the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin. A shiver strikes down your spine, into your core, wetness pooling between your legs. His lips press down into a chaste kiss against your neck and u whimper. He gains courage from it, brings his lips flush against your skin in featherlight open-mouthed kisses. They trail up the column of your neck, over the curve of your jaw, to the corner of your mouth. He pulls back with a grin, pupils blown, eyes half-lidded.
You pout up at him, bring a hand to the back of his neck, the soft strands of hair splayed between your fingers, and pull his lips onto yours. His tongue surges forward, pries your lips apart and wraps around your own. There are large hands in your hair and on your throat and on your jaw, fingers pressing down against your cheeks, cupping your face. He tastes like mint, like that gum he likes, the one that’s so overwhelmingly minty it makes you sneeze every time you chew it. But on his tongue, it’s a pleasant aftertaste, something you could easily get addicted to. 
Suguru adjusts his stance, leans on one hand to bring the other one away from your face to explore your body, fingers ghosting over your skin. They graze the underwire of your bra and he pulls back abruptly, a string of spit connecting your lips, to frown at the offending garment.
You follow his gaze, prop yourself onto your elbows, fingers attempting to undo the hooks at your back. Suguru stares at your exposed throat and leans in to press a chaste kiss against it. Then another and another, trailing down as you frantically attempt to dislodge the bra hooks, heart thundering in your chest. He grazes his teeth over your skin, bites down and you mewl at the pain that erupts in your flesh. Suguru mutters an apology against your throat, presses his tongue flat against the bite. It soothes the pain, but does little to calm your pulse in your ears.
Your hands are shaking, a sob stuck in your throat. This stupid bra and those stupid hooks, bent out of shape and always getting stuck, ruining everything —
“Breathe,” Suguru mumbles as he resumes his movement, inching closer to your breasts. “You can do it. Take a breath.” His hands glide down the length of your torso, grab a handful of ass each, and squeeze. “You’re okay.”
You swallow around the panic clawing up your throat and run your fingers over the hooks behind your back. Two are loose, just the one remaining latched. Suguru’s lips return to you, bite down at the skin pulled taut over the collarbone. He suckles on the blooming bruise, runs his warm tongue over it to soothe the ache.
The bra finally — finally — releases and you claw the straps from your shoulders, discard the item onto the floor and tangle your fingers in his hair. Suguru snatches your free hand, pins it against the bed, continues his assault of open-mouthed kisses over the expanse of your skin. He nibbles on the plush of your breast.
His tongue circles your nipple, glides over it and you buck your hips voluntarily. His hot mouth closes around the stiff peak and he chuckles. It reverberates against your skin, in the very cavity of your chest. You shiver, too warm and too cold at once, and grind down on the knee between your legs.
Suguru releases your breast, huffs a cool breath against it and you inhale, sharp and high-pitched. He tuts. “So impatient.” His grip on your thighs slackens, moves across the skin, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. They stop at the hem of your skirt, lingering there for just a moment and you whine, tug on the fistful of hair in your vise grip. His mouth falls open in a barely audible gasp, eyes fluttering shut, a notch between his brows.
Fuck, you think, that had to have hurt. You untangle your shaking hand, wince when a few strands stick to your sweaty fingers and tug his head along. Sorry, sorry, sorry, you chant in your head, angling your hand between your bodies to tug at the skirt’s zipper. One of his hands swats yours away, then pushes under the white fabric. His fingers ghost over your underwear — fuck, there really is barely any fabric to it — over your clit and you buck against them.
“Keep it on,” he says, voice smooth and rich. His fingers burrow under your underwear — really, you’re never wearing anything like that out of the house, period, he’ll make sure of it if he has to — and slide through your folds, circle your clit. His thumb comes to rest against your entrance. He pulls your lips apart, gathers your essence onto the digit. 
“Suguru…” You whine. He hums, takes a breath to ease the horrible discomfort rearing it’s ugly head in his pants. “Stop teasing and put it in already; you’re gonna ruin it if you keep being mean.”
He laughs, low and honey-like as he withdraws slightly, places his hands onto your thighs to push them apart. He snatches a decorative pillow from the foot of your bed to prop under your hips. It leaves him nearly at eye-level with your weeping cunt. The non-existent underwear is drenched and he pushes the sopping fabric aside, stares at the threads of slick connecting it to your swollen pussy. He pauses, watches you clench around nothing and fuck, it sends a jolt straight to his dick. It presses against the crotch of his jeans, so hard it aches. At this pace, he might cum on the spot.
“You’re going to kill me like this, baby,” he says as he hooks his fingers over your ruined panties and tugs them down your thighs.
“You gotta make up your mind; do you want my legs open or closed?”
He sends you a playful glare and pulls his shirt over his head, drops it onto the pile on the floor. His belt buckle clangs against the wooden floor and he almost trips over his pants and boxers when you let your thighs fall open, a hand spreading your pussy. You clench around nothing, so desperate for your big brother’s cock.
Suguru spits into his hand, gives his cock three quick tugs because that’s all he can handle; he might really bust in his hand like a loser if he doesn’t get to be inside you right now. He lines himself up, drags the tip through your folds, gathering your arousal on his tip and you moan, low and just barely there but it sends a fire spreading under his skin and he can see his cock jump at the sound.
He presses the head of his cock against your dripping cunt and pauses just as he’s about to breach it. “Breathe,” he instructs, “relax. I take care of you, don’t I?” You nod frantically, take a deep breath in to quell your racing heart. Suguru nudges the tip of his cock inside and slides in slowly, inch-by-inch, breath by breath. When he bottoms out, pelvis flush against yours, he pauses and you both release a long breath. He’s so big, so thick, fills you up so perfectly — fuck, maybe you really were tailor-made for him — and you clench around him — fuck, you can barely clench those muscles with him inside — and he exhales, quick this time, nothing but a low hiss of pleasure. You’re so warm, so tight, he’s going to lose his mind, and he decides that yes, this is the only pussy he wants out of this life, yours, always yours because fuck, you take him so well.
You reach out, place your hands onto his shoulders, slide them across the skin until your fingers meet at the nape of his neck.
Suguru leans down, presses a kiss to your lips, tongue wrapped around yours. He swallows your wanton moan, sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. You clench around him involuntarily. “Shit — you’re gonna fuckin’ castrate me like this, baby. Are you that desperate for your big brother’s cock?” His hips twitch and he pulls back slightly, agonizingly slow but the drag of him is so sweet you see black spots in the edge of your vision. He fills you up so well when he bottoms out, tip nudging so deep you almost see stars.
He picks up the pace, hips jerking forward faster, harsher, and your eyes roll back and you’re merely working with Suguru’s motions now. He’s rutting into your poor pussy like an animal in heat, heavy breaths escaping him, caressing your sweat-slick skin. Heat coils in your stomach, you’re so close to the edge, ready to tip off and dissolve into a gooey, mindless, weightless bliss.
“Suguru, I’m—”
“Do it.” 
Heat flushes through you, pussy clenching around him as your orgasm crashes into you, knocks the breath from your lungs. The world becomes blurry, you can barely register your own ragged breaths as the warmth travels through you, and white sparks behind your eyelids if you try to close them. The euphoria of it races through your veins, sets every nerve ending alight, tapering at your fingertips. It laps at your thoughts, submerges every possible thought in a sea of Suguru, how good he is to you, how good he makes you feel, how well his cock fits into you, and how well you fit around his cock, like you’re made for each other.
Suguru’s hips speed up, it’s too much and you want to cry but it’s heavenly, too much and too little at the same time, you want to push him away and pull him in at the same time. He’s pistoning into you, rhythm almost sloppy, and then—
He stills abruptly, presses himself deep into your still-spasming cunt, so deep it draws another mewl from your lips, and spills inside. Warm, he’s so warm, he fills you up so well. You wrap your exhausted, shaking, legs around his waist, hook your heels together to keep him in place. Every muscle in your body is sore, screaming for rest as he drapes his torso on top of yours, forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.
He becomes dead weight on top of you all at once. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat and you place a hand on the back of his neck, card your fingers through the sweat-slick strands of what has remained of his hairstyle. The world stands still for a few moments, the rev of an engine and bird chitter filtering in through the cracked window. This is nice, you decide, you could stay here, like this, with your big brother, the moment frozen in time forever for you to keep.
Then Suguru groans, braces his hands on either side of his hips and pushes himself up with shaking arms and pulls out. His cum dribbles out of you as he leaves and you almost sigh. This is a nice set of sheets. He stays as he is, hunched over, arms slowly regaining their strength, and stares, transfixed, as his cum oozes out of you. He eases himself onto his knees in front of the bed and scoops some of the escaping cum up with his fingers, pushes it back into your puffy cunt. You whine low in your throat and his gaze snaps up.
“I’m sticky ‘cause of you.”
He sighs and dissolves into a short, low laugh. He pulls his fingers out, wipes them against your thigh. “C’mon,” he wraps a hand around either ankle and pulls you closer, “bath time.” He unzips your skirt and tugs the socks free of the tape — hey, they survived you getting railed by your big brother — and discards them amidst the piles of clothes on the floor.
“But we’re missing the movie.”
“We can go tomorrow. Or…” He stands, slides one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifts you up. You cringe when your body is jostled with the movement and something slips out of you, glance over your shoulder at the glob of cum that’s splattered on the floor. “We could just make our own movie. When you’re older.”
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note: iirc this is my first actual p in v smut, we can only go up from here, lads
divider/banner credit: @/cafekitsune
196 notes · View notes
thetriplets3 · 3 months
Note
Can I send a request? Maybe reader x matt cuddling and reader lays head on stomach or switched around? Just cuddling fluff pls I need it
if you want more fluff/ comfort written send as many requests as you want to my inbox its open (and empty)
❝𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞❞
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it's been a week to say the least. between work and school i haven’t had a second where my mind wasn’t occupied with the next thing i needed to do. i haven’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning unable to get comfortable as i let my worries eat away at me. i’m exhausted. constantly running around doing a million things at once just trying to please everyone.
what made my week even worse was that matt and his brothers went home to boston so i was only able to call and facetime him and we couldn’t talk for long because of the time difference with me getting home from work so late and having to be up early in the morning. it sucks. all i wanted when i came home from work was to see matt and be with him and i couldn’t.
with a heavy sigh i straighten up from being slumped against the steering wheel finally deciding i should go inside and get ready for bed just to repeat the same cycle tomorrow. fumbling with the lock i groan, eyes heavy with exhaustion i make my way inside haphazardly discarding my shoes, jacket, and bag by the door. my sore tired feet carrying me to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. i sit on one of the barstool scrolling through my stories as i drink my water. i can’t help but feel sad when i see matt and his brother’s stories. they must’ve taken a trip to vermont, matt’s favorite place. it warms my heart seeing him there knowing how much he loves it there but i wish i was there with him. refilling my glass of water i shut off the lights and head to my room.
opening my bedroom door i still. in front of me i see my room dimly lit up by the tiny string lights the litter my walls and matt under my covers with a big soft smile adorned on his lips. my mouth forms a gentle pout at the scene in front of me as my eyes begin to water. just what i needed was here.
“hi sweetheart”
“what are you doing here? i thought you were just in vermont?
“that would be nick on my story. i knew you had a long week i wanted to fly back early and be with you. now you gonna come cuddle or just keep staring?”
“ah ah gotta change no outside clothes on the bed you know this. i’ll be quick”
changing into comfier clothes i make my way to the bed, to matt whose propped up against my headboard with my duvet lifted eager for me to crawl under and join him. he waste no time and pulls me towards him letting me get comfy. i lie my head on his stomach with my arms wrapped around his torso holding on as if he’s disappear if i let go. one of his hands rests in my hair gently massaging it while the other dances up and down my back relaxing me even more.
“i missed you so much you have no idea how happy i am that you’re here. i love you baby”
“anything for you honey i love you. get some rest i’m here i’m not leaving”
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