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#tried out a new shading style for this one too!
wyvernquill · 2 years
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“Soulmates.” Hob says, simply, and it feels like old magic to speak it into existence, to forge the bond between them into words at last. “You and I are soulmates. And I think that you are lonely, that you need and miss me when we’re apart... just as much as I miss you.”
“Soulmates.” The Stranger repeats, flatly, his sonorous voice barely a rumbling growl. “Hob Gadling, we are not soulmates.”
Illustration for my fic “Passing Stranger! (You Do Not Know How Longingly I Look Upon You)”, which you can find here on Ao3!
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this might have just been the most ridiculous thing i’ve ever made
Original picture and alt version under the keep reading
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chiropteracupola · 2 years
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a soft moment.
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mysicklove · 6 months
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cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.
wc: 1.3k
a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.
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“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.
your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”
his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."
“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”
his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”
the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"
you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.
"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.
"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.
you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.
"you like it now?"
"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.
"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.
"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.
his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"
he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."
you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"
another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"
"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"
"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."
he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.
seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"
your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.
eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."
you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."
he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.
megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"
"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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file #3: the foot fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!nanami kento x reader (jjk)
length: 2.1k.
warning: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), foot jobs, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of kidnapping, unbalanced power dynamics, and cannot mention it enough: feet.
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You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here.
Which was to say, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this position, not this physical location – the small kitchen of Nanami’s up-until-recently neglected apartment, back pressed against the rounded edge of a pristine marble countertop and hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles were beginning to turn white. That, you could explain in fifteen words or less: Psychotic Ex-Boyfriend Kidnaps Overly Trusting Partner To Roleplay Repressed Domestic Fantasies, with further elaboration possible if you ever got the chance to talk to anyone who wasn’t currently holding you hostage. That, as much as you hated it, was normal. You knew why you were here.
It was much less normal to have Nanami on one knee in front of you, head bowed and one of your feet sitting in the palm of his hand. You hadn’t decided whether it was good abnormal or bad abnormal, yet, but still – not normal.
It must’ve been a rough day. He always looked tired when he got home, but tonight, he seemed exhausted – blond hair in a state of styled disarray, tie gone and shirt already partially unbuttoned, the circles under his eyes just a shade darker than they had been that morning. There was a cut on his cheek, too, and a tear along the wrist of his sleeve. Usually, he would’ve tried to get you to fuss over the damage, to trade privileges like a few minutes of T.V. and the latest news about your friends and family and not being handcuffed to his bed whenever he couldn’t watch you himself for sex and domestic labor and the faux-reciprocation of his obsession, but you hadn’t been able to say anything, let alone do anything before he’d fallen into his current position at your feet, his cheek resting gingerly against the inside of your thigh and his pale face slightly pink. He hadn’t said anything, either. You were starting to think he never would.
Unable to find an explanation written on the back of his head, you turned your attention to yourself. You’d been thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when he got home, because cooking meant he had to trust you with something more dangerous than a plastic spoon and you couldn’t go back to not being able to hold your own toothbrush, even if that meant having to trip over yourself to play housewife with your captor. You were dressed for housework, but that didn’t mean much. Nanami picked out all of your clothes, and he liked you in soft, pastel silk gowns and cutesy, garish vintage dresses. Your current dress was far from overly provocative – the neckline above your collarbones, the skirt falling to your knees. He’d seen you in it before, too, and never had this reaction.
The only new factor was your socks, but that would’ve been ridiculous. It was a new pair – a far cry from the thigh-highs and nylon stockings he usually bought for you. The material was thick and white and cottony, only ankle-high with ribbed hems and a lace trip. He was cupping the arch of your foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole, and the plush fabric rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as he shifted his hold ever so slightly downward. More out of reflex than anything, you jerked back, your toes curling downward as you tried to weakly pull yourself out of his hold, and as if pulled out a trance, Nanami snapped up at you, tired eyes weary and lips slightly parted. Your eyes met his, and for a second, it was all you could do to stay still, to stay quiet, to not yell or scream or thrash until finally, Nanami’s weary expression broke into a slight grin, an airy laugh trickling past his lips as his stare fell back to your foot. “They’re… cute,” he started, slowly, nuzzling his cheek gingerly against your thigh. “I knew they would be, but—” A pause, a kiss to the tender patch just above your knee. “—you always manage to surprise me.”
You managed to smile shakily. “Sorry, Kento, I didn’t mean to distract you. Why don’t you sit somewhere a little more comfortable? I can start on—”
“In a minute.” Another hand was brought up and wrapped around your ankle, just above the lace trim of your sock. His forehead settled against your thigh as he lifted your foot gently and with an almost painful sort of delicacy, pressed the sole of your foot into the bulging tent in his pants that you’d been trying so hard to ignore. You felt his lazy grin press into your skin, and something cracked open in your chest.
This time, you couldn’t stifle your immediate reaction; lurching back, your hands finding the edge of the counter as you tried to pull away from him. It took nothing for him to keep you in place, though, and even worse – the ball of your heel pressed into his shaft as you tried to get away, rolling against his cock with a little too much force and drawing a low grunt from the base of Nanami’s throat. Instantly, you regretted moving at all. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
 “Again.”
You fell silent. His head lulled forward, pressing into your thigh, and somehow, you managed to spit something out. “…I’m sorry, Kento?”
“Again, angel, please,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. You didn’t move, but he didn’t need you to – his hips jutting forward, grinding stiltedly against the sole of your foot. Any vague illusion of wholesomeness was forgotten entirely as he fell onto his knees, unabashedly rutting against your leg with all the shame and all the pride of a stray animal, desperate for its twisted idea of affection. You made a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself, to focus on the white tiles of his kitchen (not quite dirty, but not as clean as they could be, either – you’d have to do the floors tomorrow), then the far wall (there was a layer of dust along the edge of the light switch fame – you could take care of that later on tonight), but it would’ve been impossible not to think about the wet, hot breath fanning over your thigh, the stiff cock throbbing against your foot. You thought would’ve gotten used to his—uh, his unwanted attention by now, gone numb to the feeling of his mouth on your neck and his fingers on your clit, but this was a type of fresh humiliation you weren’t familiar with, the kind of unthinkable debasement that made your face heat-up and your thought spiral down, down, down. When your paralysis persisted, Nanami grit his teeth, rocked your foot against the length of his cock without ever letting his hips stop moving – like he was trying to fuck a hole through your heel. It was a rough, jagged motion; almost clumsy, despite the fact that you’d never seen him so much as trip. It might’ve left you off-balance, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter so tightly. You might’ve fallen, if you thought that you would be enough to make him stop.
You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to suck in a shuddering breath, but that was a mistake – showing any kind of weakness was a mistake. You felt one of his groping hands on your upper thigh, then your ass, finally finding the thin, flimsy material of your panties and pulling. There was no elegant way to strip you down, so he didn’t try to be elegant. There was a harsh tearing sound, the feeling of blunt nails scraping against unprotected skin, and then, scraps of ruined material were scattered on the floor at your feet, the skirt of your dress pushed up to your waist as he forced his face between your legs, mouth already open and tongue already lapping over your cunt.
It was a bad position; the distance too far, the angle too sharp, everything about strained and awkward and unnecessary, but Nanami didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care. His tongue ran over the length of your slit before he latched onto your clit and sucked. Instantly, it was too much – a strangled cry tearing past your lips as you buckled into yourself, your knees nearly giving out as another reverberating moan sent pangs of something sharp and electric stabbing into your core. Against your better judgement, your hands shot from the counter to his hair, your fingers soon knotted in a mess of blonde in a futile attempt to pry him away from you. He only melted into your hostile touch, one of his hands remaining on your ankle while the other found your hip, keeping you still and pliable as his attention dipped lower, the flat of his tongue pushing broad patterns into your entrance as the bridge of his nose ground lazily against your clit. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice little more than a throaty, ragged murmur – almost too deep to be audible and constantly interrupted by the sound of your slick on his lips, on his tongue. You wished he wouldn’t talk. You wished he wouldn’t pretend to love you. You wished he wouldn’t force you to do the same. “You’re so—so pretty, and so perfect, and—”
A guttural moan cut him off, and his attention shifted, his head lulling back just far enough to stare up at you with eyes so soft and so tender, you could almost forget he was humping your leg like a bitch in heat. You were suddenly aware of your own distraught expression – all grit teeth and misty eyes, misery and pleasure flooding through your veins in tandem. You wanted to ask him not to look at you. You needed to ask him to stop, but—
You felt a frigid ache in your left wrist – the wrist he’d kept shackled to the bedpost for the first three weeks of your kidnapping. You tried to open your mouth, but your tongue was deathly dry, your throat stuffed with cotton, the feeling not entirely unsimilar to the residue left behind by the velvet gags he used to shove in your mouth when you didn’t want to lay there and let him break you. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything as he let out a final, primal groan – as you felt something thick and hot soak through the fabric of his dress pants and into your ridiculous, childish socks. He whined into your cunt, fingers burrowing into your waist as he dragged you that much closer to his mouth. His tongue fucked shallowly into your cunt, and a whine caught in your throat as your vision burnt white, as you came unwillingly on his tongue.
You couldn’t do it, anymore. With his hand still on your hip, his cum still searing into the sole of your foot, you collapsed. Nanami caught you before you hit the ground, and you hated him for it. You wished he’d let you crumble to the tile floor, wished he’d just watch and laugh as you curled into a ball and stayed there for the rest of the night, the rest of the week. You wished he’d—
Oh, god, you’d made yourself cry. Nanami let out a breathy chuckle as you sniffled and tried not to wail, kissing your tear-stained cheeks with a gentleness you couldn’t seem to link to the man who’d just cum to a pair of socks. “It’s alright, angel. You can let it out.” Another kiss, this one to your forehead. “Too much?”
You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt his arms wrap around you, keeping your body pressed into his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few seconds of quiet, unthinking solace before he lowered you onto your shared bed – a pair of shackles still hanging, unlocked and waiting, from the headboard. Immediately, you scrambled for the nearest pillow, burying your face in the plush material and sobbing openly. Nanami’s comfort came in the form of a wry grin, a pair of hands on your hips, turning you onto your stomach and starting on the buttons of your dress.
As he settled between your legs, his calloused fingertips skirting over your bare skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if the shackles had really been so bad.
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hanasnx · 8 days
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" DOUBLE BUBBLE DISCO QUEEN " — katsuki bakugou.
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem bratty pink!reader ノ pussy whipped bakugou ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ degradation: f receiving ノ reader has pink hair and pink style.
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KATSUKI BAKUGOU didn’t know what to make of you at first. He’d never admit you were intimidating, but your commitment to one color made him nauseous. Pink was everything he saw you sport, as if you couldn’t have a style outside of it. Even your hair sprouted from your scalp in a soft pink shade. Regardless of his initial apprehension, somehow he was roped into a relationship with you. Now he carries your many bags, opens doors for you, holds your hand when you start yapping too much. You annoy him, and yet he sticks with you.
He’s come to respect you, and even like you a little bit. Not that you give him any choice. He can’t be fooled by your soft appearance, you’re just as domineering as he is. You’re spoiled rotten, and high maintenance as hell. It’s taken him loads of tries to get it right, to treat you exactly how you believe you deserve to. It’s difficult—next to impossible—but you make it worth it, don’t you?
When you spread those legs, all pretty and eager for him, things go quiet. For once, things go his way. Katsuki’s never considered himself to be a pussy-driven guy until he met you. Suddenly, he’s letting you bully him into all kinds of things just for a glimpse of that kitty. He’d feel shame if his mouth wasn’t watering right now staring down at those drippy lips, open and waiting for him.
“C’mon, Katsu. Wanna feel you.” you whine with a coy smile to your lips, impatient and brows upturned. Just as you wiggle your hips enticingly, mean and callused hands envelope them, pinning your ass to the mattress.
Gripping the base, he feeds himself into your hole, sniffing out the give until you moan just from the stretch, and he sighs with goddamn relief. As if he’s finally getting payback for everything you throw at him. You’re a damn bitch, and you know he thinks so, but getting this tight cunt gives you a blank slate. After he’s good and fucked his fill, he’ll be ready to take your attitude again. For now, he keeps a palm over that smart mouth of yours, just so you don’t ruin the moment.
“Mmf—“ he grunts, scooping an arm under your knee to pick your leg up, giving himself a little more room inside you. “Even this princess pussy’s a brat…Clenching down on me.” he speaks through his teeth, rutting in and out to hollow out a space for himself. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” A bold-faced lie, but you take it anyway, nodding to him. Anything to get him to keep going, anything to get him to make you loosen up so he can fuck you for real. His palm over your mouth remains, and you smell his sweet scent of sweat.
“Running me ‘round, dangling this cunt in front of me knowing I’ll do whatever for it. Tch, you’re so damn annoying.” His words in your ear sends a powerful shudder down your spine, fluttering your eyelashes. You slick, lubing up his entry as he keeps pushing in and in. Even without seeing his face, breathing hard through your nose over his third pinky knuckle, you can feel him grin next to you. You know it's wolfish just from the sound of his reply, “You like hearing that shit, huh?” His husky voice grates your ears and you whimper pitifully under his weight.
His hips increase their fervor, getting excited over the new room in your hole, setting an immediate bruising pace just to be a jerk.
“For someone so spoiled, struttin’ ‘round like you can buy anything you want with daddy’s money, you sure like gettin’ called out on it.” That's what he's here for.
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@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.
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azzo0 · 3 months
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Summary: Time and time again, Bakugo swears on every fiber of his being, you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.
Pairing: Bakugo x f!chubby!reader
cw's: fluff with nsfw themes, reader has long hair styled into curls, feel free to lmk more in tags
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The first time he met you was at Kirishima's housewarming party. He didn't really want to be there when he could be deep asleep in his bed at home after a nice meal and a long, warm bath. He stood by the window alone, sipping on his drink from the plastic cup. He saw a few faces he didn't recognise. Probably one of Pinky's or Shitty Hair's friends, he told himself.
Crimson eyes shifted to the window, tuning out Denki's annoying playlist as he stared at a random spot and zoned out. He snapped back to reality when someone bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink over his new button-up. Lips curled in a scowl, he turned around to tell the stranger to open their eyes and watch where they were going. His words never got to leave his mouth when he laid his eyes on the woman in front of him.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She apologised, grabbing a box of tissues from the little table by the window. She handed it to him, but he was too busy trying not to blush as he admired the woman. She took his lack of response as a sign of annoyance, took out a few tissues from the box and wiped them over his chest as she profusely apologised. 
Bakugo watched the way her loose curls bounced over her shoulders, some falling over her ample breasts. His eyes trailed down the little red dress onto her beautiful curves and the soft roll of her tummy, a gentle whisper of feminity and warmth.
"Er- are you alright?" Your voice brought his eyes up to your face again, wild crimson the same shade as his eyes, dusting his cheeks at being caught staring. 
"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, "Just watch where yer goin' next time." 
"I'm sorry," You smiled. That damn smile that woke up butterflies in his chest, "It's a little hard to walk in these."
"Whatever," He tried looking anywhere but at you unless he wanted to stare again. He couldn't help it. Something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame. He could tell you were shifting awkwardly as you still stood in front of him. 
He watched you make a move to leave, his jaw clenching. Out of all his friends, he was the only one left single, something that worried Mitsuki and his friends a lot. He'd gone on dates set up by Mina and Mitsuki, but it never went past the first date. How could he continue something that had no spark in the first place? 
But this. This was different. 
Something told him it'd be a waste to let you go without another word, "Are you one of Alien's friends?" He blurted, internally cringing. 
"Alien? Is that a nickname for Mina?" you grinned at him, unaware of the effect it was having on him, "Yeah, I'm a friend of hers."
"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." You smiled, extending your hand. 
"Katsuki." He shook your hand after a moment of hesitation. 
Thinking on it years later, he was glad he made a move to talk to you back then. Because now here he is, with you in his arms, with someone to call his. 
Over the past few years, he's made it clear how much he loves you and how obsessed he is with every inch of you. He's said it in between sweet kisses, steamy makeouts and long nights making love. 
He loves buying you skimpy and expensive dresses that show off your soft, velvety thighs that his hand keep latching onto whenever he sits next to you. You've told him to stop buying you these because they always end up getting burnt or torn when he gets too impatient, but no. He'll keep buying you these over and over again. It's his money; he buys you whatever the fuck he wants.
He loves the squishiness of your breasts, groping them from the back with a sly grin. He could knead them on and on forever if you don't swat his hands away.
He loves the softness of your tummy, where he often rests his head after a tiring day. He loves your gentle voice, lulling him to sleep with your fingers dancing in his hair. He feels at home with his head on your stomach and hand in his hair. 
Of course, he loves you from head to toe, but, oh, god, he loves your thighs. It drives him insane when you wear his boxers. He loves how the stretchy fabric clings to your ass and thighs, inviting him to drag you over to the couch so he can press soft kisses and bites to the insides of your thighs. He gives you the most mind-blowing head just so he can hear you scream his name and squish his head in between your thighs. 
Most of all, he loves it when you're safe and sound asleep in his arms with your head on his chest. He still feels butterflies the same way he did when he first met you. Looking down at your serene, moonlit features, he moves some hair away from your face, tracing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. As he strokes your hair, he swears on every fiber of his being that you're the most beautiful woman to walk this planet.
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astaroth1357 · 1 year
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Demons in the Dark 
What if they have glow-in-the-dark eyes?
Contents: No warnings aside vague mentions of imminent danger. And bugs and snakes.
~♡♡♡~
Lucifer
Seeing Lucifer in a dark room is incredibly unsettling. You know those horror movies where the protagonist sees a pair of demonic eyes from shadows? You've found the inspiration.
His eyes burn with the color and intensity of molten glass and they that just loom ominously in the darkness, usually well above people's heads!
Lucifer knows exactly how haunting his eyes can look, which is why he prefers to sneak up on Mammon when it's dark and he's up to no good… 
The mental image of Lucifer's crimson eyes have long since burned their way into the secondborn's nightmares...
He tries his best not to scare MC with them, but it's undeniably unnerving to see disks of pure hellfire roaming around the kitchen looking for a glass of water…
Mammon
His eyes glow just the prettiest shade of gold you'll ever see. Think of a mound of ancient coins glinting away under a treasure hunter's torchlight.
Mammon knows full well how attention grabbing his eyes are, which is part of why he always wears sunglasses when out stealing. People can't see'em glow if they're all tinted up behind his frames!!
He's also pretty proud that his eyes don't give people nightmares like Lucifer's, but since they glow like little sundrops when he's out, moths fly into his face… a lot…
He is far too embarrassed to admit to MC that he also wears his sunglasses outside for bug protection, so he makes up some shit about it being part of "Devildom-style" they just wouldn't understand.
Sometimes, the MC swears that if they look close, his pupils look like Grimm signs. But has to be a trick of the light… Right?
Leviathan 
Levi's eyes glow a citrine orange but weirdly, his pupils actually slit instead of dilate in the dark.
Though he will never admit it, but he actually has pretty bad night vision in his normal form. (Which isn't that surprising given all of screens he stares at.)
It's a little comical watching Levi stumble around in the dark if he needs to go grab something. The MC can just follow his eyes as he smacks into a lot of walls…
His demon form can kind of make up for it, but only so much. If things get too dark, Levi can change into it so he can see his surroundings with the help of UV light.
"Snake Vision" makes the dark more manageable, but it's not very good for gaming at all so he rarely thinks to use it. Everybody knows that past a certain brightness in the room, don't expect Levi to be of much help.
Satan
Magically enchanted his eyes to look exactly like a green-eyed cat's in the dark. I'm dead serious.
Imagine just going about your business then two grown man-sized feline eyes pop out from behind a corner. They even have nocturnal eyeshine so feels like you're being hunted!
Sometimes he can't help himself and he'll sneak up on people with his eyes closed so he can open them over their shoulders or peeking around corners.
He has given the whole House about as many heart attacks as Lucifer has pulling those shenanigans, I swear…
Belphie is the only one generally unaffected and he always gets a big laugh from when Satan scares the others. The youngest boys just be like that, unfortunately...
Asmodeus 
His eyes look like a kaleidoscope in low light. Every slight tilt of his head makes them reflect a whole new wave of fractals and colors.
Asmo is just as aware as Mammon that his eyes are gorgeous, but unlike Mammon he wouldn't DARE cover them up!! Sunglasses are for sunny days, which they don't ever get down in Hell.
Asmo's eyes are integral to his charm spells, so he takes extra care to be sure that they are as healthy and bright as they can be! He won't even accept eyebags.
Seeing Asmo's eyes in the dark kind of like seeing a trippy optical illusion just... staring at you. It's less unnerving than the others but it's equally hard to ignore.
To this day, he brags that it was his eyes that caught Solomon's attention when they first met. (Solomon actually wanted to pluck them out to use as potion ingredients, but he'll let that stay a secret.)
Beelzebub
Beel's eyes are probably the most normal of all of the family unless you look at them suuuper closely.
In his normal form, his eyes will just glow a nice shade of purple with nothing fancy happening. But in his demon form, they get that glassy, compounded film akin to insects with his iris still trapped and moving around under the surface.
Thankfully, they do not bulge out of his skull. They even give him the ability to see and track objects in fast motion, which does wonders for his reaction time.
... Somewhat unfortunately, though, his line of sight is more narrow than an inscets so it can look like he's trying to look everywhere all at once to compensate. His eyes will constantly dart around the room as if he is trying to follow the flight pattern of a coked out fly.
At least he mostly only uses this during fights or sporting events where they really come in handy. Honestly, if there's anything more jarring than red eyes, it's stumbling across bug-eyes that they can practically see right through you.
Belphegor 
Belphie's eyes glow purple, but they don't shine nearly as brightly as his brothers'. In fact, they have a steady, calming pulse when stared at which is very unnerving.
Total darkness is really when Belphie gives off his best "sleep paralysis demon" vibes. His eyes are really relaxing to look at, but only in the same way that the little light on an angler fish would be enticing to its prey. It's a trap, don't fall for it.
Belphie CAN put people to sleep this way, but he hates doing it because it means he has to somehow not blink for ages. He really has to be motivated to want to see someone zonked out.
For a couple centuries, Mammon would send Belphie to talk to Lucifer if he was working too late in order to (compassionately) knock their brother out so he could get some rest.
Lucifer's since gotten wise to this trick, but sometimes if he's really been going too long he will forget until he wakes up on the nearest couch post Belphie "convincing" him to take a nap.
3K notes · View notes
nobody-nexus · 4 days
Text
Finally... It's Here...
After being silent for a bit, I've got enough art to properly show off this AU that I've been DEEPLY working on...
I give you... The Amazing Digital Dance Rush AU.
Or- just Dance Rush for short
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Dance Rush is an AU where the TADC cast is thrusted into a rhythm game instead of a sandbox game- this game making humans step into the shoes of performing idols, all working both against and with one another in order to get to the VERY top. Pomni is the newest idol for the game, and she now is determined to drop the whole pyramid of overworked misery while trying to figure out how the inner mechanisms of this place work, even if the truth is more horrid then one might believe....
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This AU uses a lineless style as a way to make it feel almost cell shaded in a sense, but also as a new way to keep this AU fresh. The setting is neon Vocaliod and sci-fi esc in nature, giving off a feeling of futuristic but simple all the same
Now let's-
MEET THE IDOLS!
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Pomni is our protagonist and the last to join the game. Inspired by DDR, her performances are based on dancing choreography by using her flexibility and quickness to adapt to her advantage
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Ragatha is one of the six idols that Pomni meets as she tries to get more used to the world. Inspired by Project Diva, Rags is all about audience participation- her lovely optimism and charm making chants, encores, and singing along a breeze
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Jax is the 'top' of the leaderboard, and another idol for Pomni to meet. Inspired by Just Dance, Jax's main this is... well... thirst trapping. He uses his body, dance moves, and other various body motions to make the crowd to wild
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Gangle is one of the more unhinged members of the idol life. Inspired by Crypt of the Necrodancer, Gangle uses music to tell her stories. Her fans adore every moment (with her comedy mask of course)
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Zooble is another idol, and the one that came before Pomni. Inspired by Beat Saber of all things, they're most known for their transitions and transformations, leaving their fans amazed by the grungier singing voice mixed with the eye catching transitions
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Kinger is the idol who has been here the longest yet is the second to last on the leaderboard. Inspired by oddly enough Rhythm Heaven, he has the best singing voice out of the cast. This results in his medium fanbase adoring him
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Caine. The real top of the leaderboard, and the most powerful idol in the game. Inspired by OSU- his perception of how performances should feel and hear is truly unmatched. How could one compare?
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Because I love this AU so much to the point where I have FAR too much information on it, I made myself an askblog ALL about this AU in perticular, and one I'll be reblogging every answer for
The askblog is @theamazingdigitaldancerush and I hope you go ask your questions for it there instead of in my main blog as to not clog up TOO many things
I hope the wait was worth it cause lineless is difficult to do all together. Plus I haven't even touched the NPCs yet- however that's a post for another day
I can't wait for you to see what I do next ^^
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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months
Text
Sympathy for Breakfast
(Part 1)
Time Written - 9:03 p.m
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(Completely unrelated photo it’s just funny to me, also just a silly part 2 for no reason. SFW silly, he stands like this for a majority of this Drabble)
The early rays of morning sun sent an irritating glare of bright light through his mask when he feels a faint rumble, making him instinctively reach for his phone.
You coming home soon?
I have a surprise :)
Love you <3
Jason smiles at the screen, feeling glad that his girl woke up on the good side of the bed. However, he checked the time, slowly growing concerned as to why you were up so early.
The diner the both of you adored on weekends and midnights wasn’t even open yet.
A handful of thoughts course through his tired brain. Some of them concerning, some of them far from appropriate.
“Good morning, Mister Hood.” You smile from your position on the ground as he shuffled himself through the front door, carrying double bagged to-go boxes in hand.
The only comfort he had at this moment, besides the fragrant hot coffee inside the machine pot, was seeing your smiling, well rested expression. Your hair was styled to keep out of your way as your main focus, the ‘surprise’, was the project the two of you had been putting off on for a while.
“Babe, what’re you doing?”
You sat criss cross on the living room floor in front of an ash gray, large convertible crib, newly put together by yourself alone.
“Built the crib! Isn’t it pretty?” You extend your hands out towards the sight, the crib equipped with every detail perfectly in place. All you had to do left was add in the bedding onto the new mattress for your son, and it’s fully finished.
A very special bed for a very special boy, already loved before he’s even born.
“The box weighed a ton.” Was Jason’s first statement as he eyed the empty box and scattered foam borders. He sets his helmet and breakfast on the dining room table, approaching the messy living room.
“It wasn’t heavy,” you quickly state, gesturing your head over towards the corner of the living room, where the box had sat behind the couch for a good three months.
“It was super easy too! What do you think?” You immediately ask, not liking how he was too concerned for everything but the surprise.
Their was a cute, eager glimmer in your eyes as you stared up at him, like a little girl showing off her extravagant art piece. Right there, he understood why you had lately become quite OCD with all the baby’s essentials.
Sorting out all the supplies, washing all the clothes, ordering a new baby blanket set because it didn’t arrive in the shade of teal blue you wanted.
Nesting. You were nesting.
Cute.
“It’s nice,” Jason says, tilting his head as he examines the large crib. How the hell his eight month pregnant sweetheart built this heavy crib all on your own was a full body shiver he tried very, very hard to refrain expressing.
“Yeah, very nice. How’s it, uh… how’s it gonna fit through the door?”
“What?” Your smile slowly drops. “Huh?”
“I mean, it’s pretty wide?” Jason peeks over towards their semi open bedroom door. “I don’t think the crib will fit through…”
You go quiet, looking over at the crib you were proud of merely seconds ago.
“Huh??”
You express once more, noticing this large, extravagantly built crib, with bottom drawers prepared to pack in freshly washed baby clothes, would be a little too wide to push through the bedroom door. Especially with the bed in the way.
“But this took … this took forever!” Your voice held that tremble that Jason suspected would come, making him playfully pout.
“Awww, Princess.” He tried so hard to hold back a smile or laugh, quickly failing behind his gloved palm.
“Don’t laugh!” You yell up at him. “I was so proud of myself! This was the one time we buy something from IKEA, and I didn’t have to second guess the instructions a hundred times! Now you’re saying it won’t fit through the door!”
Cause it won’t. Jason wasn’t cruel enough to voice it, simply gazing down at his love, who hid her face from his view, still perched in the center of empty screw bags, power tools, and ever so finicky foam beads.
As tired as he was from patrol, this topped the cake of interesting things to happen yet.
He wasn’t delighted to see you cry aggravated tears from this daunting realization you completely missed, but the outcome of your hard work at such an early hour… only to be stumped, it’s funny. Jason can’t help that.
His shoulders bounced with his light laughter, settling down in front of his woman, who had exhausted hands covering that pretty face from him.
“S’okay Princess. Crib looks gorgeous, an’ you still possess all fingers and toes. Proud of you, but no more heavy lifting. Alright?”
His soft praise and gentle warning fell on acknowledging ears, but responded to with shameful silence. Jason couldn’t help that you were a little impatient with exciting tasks, he wouldn’t ask you to change that.
It’s like asking him to stop his horrible, eye rolling humor. Or twisted, cruelly timed jokes. It’s impossible.
He softly shushes you, kissing the top of your forehead. His eyes glance back to the crib, overall impressed at how you put it all together so well by yourself.
At the start of living in your own apartment, the both of you took many IKEA dates. Each night ended up in some form of aggravated frustration over a piece of furniture placed wrong, or the irritation of an extra screw from a missing slot once the entire piece was already finished.
“You take your vitamins?” Jason prompts, watching your head slowly shake no, still sniffling behind your hands.
You were too fixated on building the crib and getting everything together, you forgot the key component of a successful pregnancy; to worry about your own health. The biggest of priorities.
Yep. Nesting.
“We’ll eat, take your vitamins, an’ have our food comas. No worries ‘bout the crib mama, I’ll take care of it.”
Jason’s soothing voice was almost enough to settle your nerves, or the mention of food actually.
“Did you go to Benny’s?”
“Mhm. Got your favorite.”
“Can you help me up?” You reluctantly ask, giving him those pink flushed puppy eyes that he couldn’t go against.
“Whatever the lady wants.”
Tired muscles slip underneath your arms, cradling your sides as he helps you up off the ground. Your swollen belly nudges against his abdomen, making his heart melt. He wondered if your manic rush of dopamine woke up his boy, softly smirking at the idea of you chastising your relentlessly kicking son whilst building his future bed.
“Baby boy missed you, by the way.” You say, as if you just read his mind.
God, kill him already. His twice beating heart can’t take much more of this.
“He just wants food,” Jason chides before stepping to the side, letting you slowly waddle to the kitchen.
“We’re all on the same boat, Papa.”
God, please scratch that last thought. He’s in heaven.
Jason’s exhaustion didn’t stop him from nudging you towards your seat, taking the empty mugs from your hands to fill them with Colombian roast.
He wasn’t just being courteous; he was making sure you didn’t have too much caffeine, diluting the majority of your cup with your preferred milk.
After taking those vitamins you needed, Jason finally allowed himself to sit down and rest, too lazy to pull off anything other than his tactical belt and leather jacket.
He watches the love of his life through hooded eyes open your plate, your expression brightening as if you didn’t just sob over the crib mishap. Something he most definitely wasn’t going to mention at a manor dinner about three years from now.
Fluffy blueberry pancakes, piled with fresh fruit and savory sausage on the side. Honey cinnamon butter, and extra syrup. All topped with chocolate chips.
Beside it, an egg white spinach, cheesy omelette. With vegan cheese, for some odd reason. Suddenly, you had as much distain to cheddar and mozzarella, possibly most dairy, as you did to egg yolks in your omelettes.
This was your breakfast, The only meal out of your three meals a day that wasn’t invaded by a strange concoction of spicy pickles or vinegar based hot sauce. Or any other horrible last minute choices.
Something tells Jason that he’s going to see cake eaten for breakfast after the birth for a good while. Not like he’s going to complain, honestly.
Whatever he can do to combat the birthing blues, but that’s a concern for the future.
“Babe.”
“Hm?” You glance up from your plate before you dug in, seeing that same gentle smirk he carried on his face for the past four minutes.
“I was kidding, by the way.” His smile slowly grew the quicker it sets in, expecting to get pummeled by fruit after this;
“The crib will fit through the door.”
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dilatorywriting · 9 months
Note
Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑
CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!
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Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k
Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."
[EVENT MASTERLIST]
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You were annoying.
At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.
A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.
“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”
“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”
“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”
“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”
You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.
“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”
He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.
“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.
“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”
“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.
You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.
“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”
“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”
Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.
The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.
He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.
“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”
“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”
“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”
“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”
Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.
He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—
But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.
And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.
He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’
He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.
‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’
But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.
Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.
You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.
But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.
“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.
He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”
“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”
And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.
Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.  
And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.
It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.
“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”
“That makes no sense,” he argued back.
“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”
He snorted. “I do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”
“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”
“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”
Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.  
“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.
You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.
“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.
“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”
Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.
But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.
“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”
“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.
You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.
“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"
“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.
You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”
You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.
“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”
“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”
And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.
.
.
616 notes · View notes
reveluving · 1 year
Text
moments that matter ; bruce wayne x batmom reader
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warnings: pure fluff!
a/n: I got nothing to say, I just wanted to give battinson!bruce a try!
check out my batmom m.list!
it's hard for people to believe that he's a married man, let alone a father.
out of everyone in the family, many wonders how bruce had not only proposed to you, but also fathered the former acrobat. at first, they thought its cause the boy lost his parents, just as bruce did. and with dick's more upbeat energy, it's understandable that he likely takes it from you than bruce.
but then, bruce adopts another kid.
and another.
and another.
... and another.
and everyone starts asking themselves if this was all his idea or yours.
oh, if only they knew.
if only they knew your struggle to resist those sad eyes he'd give you.
you just wished the public gave him so much more credit when it comes the kids. you don't think you could even handle the life as a mother without bruce.
and as much as your kids love to joke about bruce's 'teenage phase', one can only imagine the sheer gratefulness they had for him and you.
the perfect balance to this cruel yet sweet world.
it doesn't take long for people to figure out that your children's compassionate side has to come from you, which they weren’t wrong. even bruce himself acknowledged it.
but bruce is anything but heartless, no no. would he even consider taking any of them under his wing if he was? no!
and the idea of fatherhood came easier because you were by his side. so what if he now has eight kids? why would he want to imagine what his life would've been without them?
without the texts from dick, who's all the way in bludhaven, to take breaks?
without jason's interferences when he's outnumbered by a number of gangsters?
without the sounds of tim and damian arguing over the littlest things, only to hilariously end it by shaking hands when you give them 'the eye'?
without attending cass' recital with you, your boys and even alfred, steph, babs and kate as she's the main dancer?
without terry being matt's assistant as the latter tries to treat bruce's so-called ouchies?
without living this life without you?
no. it was impossible to imagine the other bruce wayne.
the bruce wayne he didn't turn out to be.
but hey, speaking of yourself, wanna know a random fact he loves about you?
your style!
whatever your aesthetics may be, he loves you for it! who was he to say otherwise, when he doesn't really take his own into account anyway?
you're in all-black too? that's great! no one's here to judge—not him, not alfred, and certainly not his kids. you're the one able to mix and match like a true professional!
but say your sense of style falls under the bright/pastel/fairycore-like category! gotham's pretty depressing, including the manor itself, so he appreciates it when he's suddenly slapped with a sight of his wife donning her soft pink dress.
bruce finds it endearing that you actually wore the shades he bought for both you and himself. he thought he was being silly at first, wondering if you'd actually wear it, so imagine his surprise when just days after, you decided to match with him when he found the time to take you out to dinner.
he's even more surprised when one day, duke tells him that you've been under the weather because you lost the shades.
instead of waking up to your husband the next day, you find a glasses case on his pillow, complete with a golden ribbon.
he's bought you a new pair, the same kind, but this time, bruce purposely ordered it so that 'mrs wayne' was written next to the frame name.
he comes home, feigning ignorance by raising his brow, though he knew good and well why you were practically blinding him with your smile before you peppered his face with kisses.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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luuuuucyscorner · 1 month
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𝐂𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞- 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧
Info: Ant asks reader on a date
Tags: Kissing, fluff
word count: 9970
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gif by me
“ Oi! Wait I gotta ask you something! ”
Ant calls out as you are about to leave SLTs since the class was over for today.
"sure Ant, whats up?" you turn and smile brightly at the erratic boy.
“You know I've wanted to talk to you for a while now, and uh… well, you have really nice soft-looking hair,” Ant nervously begins, fidgeting with his pencil. “I don’t know how to say this, but… do you want to hang out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee or something?” He tries to muster up the courage to ask you out, blushing slightly.
"Anthony Vaughn are you asking me out?" you ask teasingly.
“Err… yeah, umm, I guess that's what it is!” Ant responds, trying to hide his embarrassment with a laugh. “It's just that, I've seen you around, and well, you seem like a cool person to talk to. And besides, you're mesmerizing.” He takes a deep breath, attempting to gain some composure. “So, what do you say? Fancy getting some coffee together?”
"sure cutie, when and where?" you ask excitedly.
“Uh, wow, you actually said yes! I didn't think id get this far... How does tomorrow afternoon at, like, two o'clock sound?” Ant asks, clearly relieved and happy at your response. “We can meet at the Starbucks near school, okay?” he suggests shyly, he gives you a thumbs-up, trying to act casual but still beaming with joy inside.
"two? alright perfect ill see you there cutie" you smile at his jittery performance.
“Sure thing, then! Thanks for agreeing to this; I promise I won't annoy you too much,” Ant chuckles nervously, “See you tomorrow at two, and try not to be late or you'll hear it from me!” He playfully teases, grinning widely at the thought of spending time with you. “I better get going now, though. See ya!”
he runs off down the hall, bumping into people and as you watch Ant run away, you can't help but laugh at his adorable clumsiness. You gather your things and start walking home, feeling a mix of excitement and amusement about your upcoming coffee date.
...
the next day you call Amerie and Harper over to help you choose what to wear and to do your make up. Harper sits behind you, on hair duty and Amerie is lying on your bed sucking a lollipop and chattering about nonsense.
Amerie rolls her eyes at Harper's choice of eyeshadow, but she appreciates the effort. “No way, that shade doesn't suit you! You should go for something more natural, like this one.” She grabs another palette and starts applying it to you, giving you a reassuring smile. “Hey, so are you nervous about meeting Ant or just excited?” She inquires between bites of her lollipop.
Harper, meanwhile, is concentrating on styling your hair, trying different looks until she finds one that complements your outfit and makeup perfectly. “Almost got it! Just need to fix those flyaways,” she mumbles, using a comb to neaten up your locks.
As you chat and prepare for your date, you can't help but feel grateful for their company and support. The three of you share laughs and banter throughout the process, making the experience enjoyable despite the slight nerves.
"I'm sort of nervous, hes so sweet and i want it to go well. but im super excited!" you tell them.
“Oh, come on, you're gonna knock him off his feet, don't worry!” Amerie exclaims confidently, finishing up your makeup and stepping back to assess her work. “Look at you now, looking stunning and ready to conquer the world!” She giggles.
Harper nods in agreement, running her fingers through your locks one last time. “Definitely, you deserve someone who treats you well and adores you. And if anyone can handle Ant's quirks, it's you!” She grins, handing you a mirror to check your hair.
The trio high-fives each other, celebrating your new look and the anticipation of your date. As you head out the door, Amerie gives you a quick hug, telling you to have fun. Harper waves goodbye, wishing you luck with a thumbs-up.
...
On the bus ride to the coffee shop, you can't help but fidget with your clothing, ensuring everything is in place. As you glance around, you notice other students and adults going about their daily routines, which makes you feel even more self-conscious. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that Ant likes you for who you are and that you shouldn't let anxiety ruin the moment.
When you arrive at the Starbucks, you spot Ant standing near the entrance, waiting patiently with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smiles brightly when he sees you approach, waving hello.
you smile widely back "hey cutie! is that for me?" you motion to the cup in his hand
“Of course, it's for my gorgeous date!” Ant replies enthusiastically, handing you a cup. “I took the liberty of ordering our drinks already, hope you don't mind. It's a vanilla latte, your favorite, right?” He asks, hoping he remembered correctly. “Come on, we can find a table and get comfortable.”
you follow him to a secluded table outside, "you remembered my order? i mentioned it like, one time two terms ago" you say, surprised.
“Of course, I remember all the important details like that!” Ant responds proudly, pulling out a chair for you. “Plus, you know, I might have stalked your social media accounts a little…” He admits sheepishly, laughing nervously. “But seriously, I'm glad I could remember something you like. Settle in, and let's enjoy this beautiful day!” He motions to the sunny weather and cozy atmosphere around you.
"ever the charmer Ant" you giggle, taking a sip of your drink.
Sitting across from you, Ant watches you take a sip and seems pleased with your reaction. “So, what's been going on in your life lately? Any exciting news or plans?” He inquires, trying to strike up conversation and learn more about you. “And hey, don't worry about being perfect or anything. Just be yourself, because, well, I like you for who you are.” He adds genuinely, his eyes never leaving yours.
"i know ant, and same goes for you cutie" you tell him. then "and nah not too much going on recently, what about you?"
“Thanks, I appreciate that!” Ant replies warmly, smiling softly. “Well, I've been focusing on my studies lately. Trying to improve my grades so I can impress my parents, you know how it is.” He chuckles. “Besides that, I've been drawing comics in my free time, trying to turn it into something bigger someday.” He explains, feeling more relaxed discussing his passion. “What about you? Any big dreams?"
"god i dont know. make it out of highschool?" you laugh "id love to get into journalism maybe?"
“Journalism? That sounds amazing!” Ant comments, genuinely interested. He expresses his opinion, sipping his own drink thoughtfully. “If you ever need help with proof-reading or anything, just let me know. I'd be more than willing to assist.” His eyes light up, eager to show support. “What kind of music do you listen to?"
"oh well you know, a little bit of everything. i love some Indie stuff though, like Mac the Knife and Royel Otis" you tell him animatedly.
“Mac the Knife and Royel Otis?! Awesome taste, I'm impressed!” Ant cheers, raising his cup in approval. “I've heard of both artists, they're quite talented. There's something unique about Indie music that resonates with me too.” He shares his preference, leaning in a little closer. “Anyway, I'm glad we have something in common. Maybe we can exchange some songs later?” His smile widens, suggesting a future bonding opportunity. “So, any plans for the coming weekend?”
"sure id love that!" you say "and nah no plans, probably just going to see what Harper and Am are doing and go from there"
“Perfect, I'll send you a few tracks tonight then,” Ant promises, jotting down a mental note. “Ah, I see. Well, hopefully, you have a blast hanging out with your friends. What do they usually get up to on weekends?” He inquires curiously, wanting to understand your friend group dynamics better. “And after this date, maybe we can catch a movie or grab dinner? Just a friendly suggestion.” He adds, subtly extending an invitation for future plans.
you groan "as much as id love to, it'll have to be another time. my parents want me back before dark to go to some event" you roll your eyes.
“An event, huh? Sounds fancy,” Ant remarks, trying not to show disappointment. “Well, if it's important to your family, I totally understand. We can definitely plan something else soon, no pressure.” He offers, maintaining a positive attitude. “Maybe next weekend? that is if Harper and Amerie cant make it” He suggests, keeping his hopes alive. “Hope you enjoy the event though, even if it means cutting our time short.”
"next weekend is perfect cutie!" you confirm.
“Next weekend it is then!” Ant exclaims, visibly relieved and excited. “I'll make sure to plan something extra special for our second date. Just give me some time and I'll do my best.” He promises, eager to make it memorable. "
thanks for understanding about the event. Can't argue with family obligations, right?” you tell him.
 He chuckles, accepting the situation gracefully. “Alright, shall we finish our coffees and part ways then?”
"yeah! thank you for the fantastic afternoon ant" you say genuinely
“My pleasure, honestly. I had a great time too!” Ant replies earnestly, wiping away a stray crumb from your lip. “Remember, I'm here for you if you ever just need a friend or someone to talk to. And I'll see you next weekend” He confirms, offering a reassuring smile. “Take care, and have fun at the event tonight. Don't forget to text me pictures!” He playfully insists, enjoying the playful banter. “Safe journey home!”
you share a warm embrace and just as he pulls away, you press a kiss to his cheek "you too cutie" you tease
Caught off guard, Ant's face turns bright red, but his smile remains as wide as ever. “Wow, you're bold, huh?” He chuckles, playfully swatting your arm. “I'll see you soon, then. Take care and have a fabulous time at the event!” He repeats, still feeling the warmth of your lips on his cheek. “Goodbye, lovely!” And with that, Ant heads off, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation for their next encounter.
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hemmingshouse · 2 months
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the two of us / colby brock
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summary: in which colby finally realises he wants to be the only man in your life after only being your friend for way too long.
warnings: swearing, sarcastic!colby, jealous!colby, alcohol, mentions of sex, semi choking?, clubbing, being drunk, ass grabbing, kissing / making out
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
“if your heel snaps off once again i’m blaming it on your clumsiness instead of the alcohol this time.”
sam’s words made your head turn into his direction, eyes narrowing at the grinning boy as he exited the taxi right after you. you pretended to think of an answer, ticking your head to the side before sighing softly and sticking up your middle finger to flip him off as a small chuckle left your mouth.
as much as you hated to admit it, saturday nights combined with shots of strong liquor and going out in heels was never something you were good at. but since it was tara’s birthday you couldn’t stay behind, the raven haired girl claiming you had to look your best because she invited some of her old friends from college. ‘there might be one or two that would love to meet you’ was what she said when you asked you friend as to why she was so keen of you going out with her in the first place.
so here you were, making your way into the club after sighing softly and stacking your id back into your small shoulder purse. a staircase that was supposedly leading you to the actual club and bar made you groan a little, convincing you once more that the knee high heeled boots on your feet were not a good idea.
a large hand softly rested in the small of your back and you didn’t even have to check who was right next to you leading you up the staircase - his intoxicating cologne was enough for you to know colby was there to rescue you once again.
sending him a warm smile as the heat of his hand radiated through the thin material of your silky dress made your insides turn and turn your cheeks a slight shade of rosy blush. thank fuck it was dark in this club.
it had always been like this, ever since you got to know colby through your mutual friends tara and sam. the flirtatious comments, the small touches and the genuine warm smiles as you gazed into his eyes for a tad too long - you and colby had always felt at ease with one another.
one game of truth or drink once lead to him having you pinned against his bedroom door after on a livestream you answered who you wouldn’t mind kissing the shit out of. your honesty had lead you to believe that colby might’ve been feeling the same way after his mouth found yours and you made out for what felt like an eternity before sam was trying to find you for a game of beer pong and you and colby had never spoken about (or repeated) your actions after that.
it was times like these where your head was playing tricks on your heart and made you think that he still had a small amount of feelings for you somewhere within. that was up until he had a few drinks and shots and found a new girl to spend his time with.
“c’mon babes!” tara took your hand after colby had disappeared to get your group a few drinks, “luke is here and he wants to see you!”
tara, oh tara. she was a little devil in disguise sometimes. she was always trying to set you up with one of her friends and had even tried to make you and sam date before she was even aware sam felt like a non biological brother to you. it was nothing new and you always found it hilarious and adorable to see how happy tara was when she introduced you to your new potential flame.
especially after she found out colby let you down every time he brought a girl home. sure, he wasn’t aware of your slight feelings towards him but that didn’t mean it hurt less to see him surrounded by absolute babes.
“t,” you chuckled, “we have loads of ti-” you were cut off by tara tugging your hand a bit harder which you knew was a sign you needed to stop talking.
luke was gorgeous. the way his hair was messy, but still styled to a t. his white t-shirt clung to his torso in all the right places. warm and welcoming eyes looking down at you and a toothy grin curving his lips upward as he found out you were the one tara was yapping on about.
“oh,” you breathed, “hi. oh god.”
he chuckled at your words, extending his hand for you to shake so he was able to introduce himself. “hi y/n, i’ve heard a lot about you. i’m luke.”
his voice sent a good tingle down your spine, hand feeling warm against your palm as you shook his hand. “is this the part where i say i hope you only heard good things?”
luke shrugged his shoulders with a playful grin, “unless you wanna tell me about the bad things.”
in the meantime colby had made sure to get you your favourite mixed drink, his eyes trying to find yours as he looked around his group of friends.
tara took notice of this and she cleared her throat to get his attention. “y/n’s got a drink already, actually.” she pointed towards the corner of the club, where luke had just handed you your favourite drink.
tara absolutely knew what she was doing. she knew colby longer than you did and when she brought you into his life, tara was fully aware of the effect you had on him. colby obviously wouldn’t be colby if he wasn’t his flirtatious self, but the way he cared and looked out for you was something tara rarely saw when it came to colby and a girl.
colby followed her finger, blue eyes landing on you and the taller guy you were talking to. he licked his dry lips in the hope to cover how his mouth went extremely dry when he saw luke brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. “are you trying to set her up again?”
tara turned her head to meet colby’s eyes, an unreadable expression behind them. she asked him a question, already knowing the answer to it. “why? would that bother you?”
colby intently watched the pair in the corner of the club as he took a sip of his alcohol, trying to restain himself from downing the entire drink at once. he hated the way he felt when he saw you with other guys, and he didn’t know why.
fuck that, he knew exactly why.
colby always had a protective feeling over you ever since you two met multiple years back. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you were investigating with him and sam and something shook you to the core. he wiped off all your make-up after a night out because you were too drunk to do so and he hated how you felt waking up with that stuff on your face. he picked you up when a thunder storm was approaching and let you sleep in his bed, cuddled up to him because you couldn’t stand the loud cracks of thunder and lightning whirling around the silent house.
and somewhere along the way, when you started feeling secure and comfortable around him, he had caught some feelings for you as well. he didn’t wanted to own up to them because he knew how much your friendship meant to you (and him) and he was fucking terrified to lose you if he confessed how he was massively in love with you ever since he laid eyes on you when tara brought you along for the first time.
colby sighed deeply before he turned to meet tara’s gaze, narrowing his eyes at the dark haired girl. “you know what you’re doing,” he spoke up.
tara ticked her head to the side after she clinged her glass together with colby’s in a cheers. a grin danced on her face as she watched you and luke, “is it working?”
another sigh escaped colby’s lips before he downed the rest of the strong liquor in his glass, smashing it down onto the table the rest of the group sat around at. “it fucking is.”
tara’s mouth fell agape as colby confessed, not expecting the reaction he had just given her. she watched him make his way through the crowd of dancing bodies, nearing you and luke within a few seconds.
sam had stood up from where he was talking to jake, his eyes narrowing at the sight. “is colby finally doing something about his fucking feelings?”
tara nodded proudly, holding out her fist so sam could join her in a fistbump. “fucking finally.”
you chuckled at luke, nodding your head at something he had said. he was absolutely gorgeous but the way he behaved himself after only knowing you for around fifteen minutes made the hairs om your neck stand up straight. he was definitely not your type in any way, shape or form.
when you saw someone approach you two from the corner of your eye, you felt a relieved feeling take over your body. “oh my god,” you mumbled, genuinely happy as you looked into a pair of blue eyes. “hey colbs.”
colby’s body relaxed a bit when he noticed the uninterested look in your eyes after you looked from luke to him. he had made his way over to grab you by the arm and drag you through the crowd to make sure you knew the guy was an asshole, but when he noticed the distance between you and luke he knew enough. you were so not into this kid.
and so he decided he was in the mood to try something to make you tag along with him instead.
“hey babe,” he spoke up, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain himself from smirking too big, “i got you your drink, sorry it took so long.”
his eyes darted towards luke, who sat at the booth with a confused look painted across his face. he was too stunned to say anything as colby took your hand and pulled you from where you were seated onto the silk fabric of the couch.
you had no fucking clue what he was trying to do, but the amused look and smirk on colby’s face made you curious and genuinely excited for wherever the hell his plans were headed.
“oh that’s okay,” you chuckled slightly, smoothing out your short dress with your free hand before looking at him. “thank you, babe.”
the nickname fell from your lips before either of you could comprehend what you just said, a slight blush creeping up your neck. luke cleared his throat, standing up awkwardly from where he was sitting before. “shit bro, i thought she was single. apologies.”
colby inhaled a sharp breath as one of his hands rested itself on your waist, the silk of your dress feeling soft against his fingertips. he kept looking into your eyes to make sure whatever he was doing was fine by you, even when his hand dipped down to your ass and he gave it a slight squeeze. “she has always been mine.”
your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, it must’ve been at a thousand beats per minute with the way colby was looking at you and keeping you close to his body.
drowning out everything that was going around you, you shook your head slightly as a chuckle fell from your lips. “is this tara’s work?” you asked him as your arms finally snaked around his neck, your body relaxing into his touch.
colby rolled his eyes playfully, one hand now reaching up to brush a sparkle of your eyeshadow off your cheek. “she got me good,” he admitted, softly pulling your body so your chest was flush against his. “although i was planning on doing this for quite a while actually.”
“is that so?” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear as your lips brushed the shell of his ear.
colby released a breathy sigh, “oh my god,” he laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, “you’re something else.”
“are you gonna kiss me or do we need to play a truth or drink game once again before you make a move?”
your words were all it took for colby to softly dig his fingers deeper into your waist, other hand prettily resting around your throat. his thumb lightly pressed down onto the side of your skin, a breathy gasp leaving your mouth. “careful what you wish for baby, i can’t stop once i start.”
your mouth ran dry at his words, eyes looking into his. your hand wrapped itself around colby’s wrist, blinking your eyes slowly, “i’m not a quitter either.”
that was all it took for colby to squeeze your throat slightly and bring your face closer to his to nudge his nose against yours, “that makes the two of us then.”
his soft lips couldn’t wait to kiss yours, the taste of tequila mixed with beer making your head even more fuzzy than it already was as colby’s tongue slipped into your mouth to deepen the kiss.
your hands found themselves slipping underneath his shirt, right below the waistband of his jeans as you tried to give him some of his own medicine. your soft hands against his skin, so close to where he needed you the most made a soft groan fall from his lips.
“i hope you’re ready to make up for lost time as soon as we get back to my house.”
part 2 (x)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
hiiii everyone! i decided to start writing again after what seemed like forever. send me a request if you want! will also write for sam if anyone’s interested :) also, part 2? ;)
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naughtystiel · 1 year
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crashing between waves
Castiel decided to stay away from the roaring sea that almost took his life, but fate had different plans for him. Twenty years later, after his father's death, he found himself being forced to move to a small island that was mainly occupied by fishermen. All alone in a foreign environment, he tried to find a job that wouldn't involve setting a foot on a boat, but it seemed impossible. Desperate for an income, he contacted Dean, who put a job offer in a local newspaper. Of course, crashing between waves and fighting for his life once more wasn't the plan, but that's exactly what happened during his first shift on Dean's boat MARY. Too scared to get on water, he lost all hope. That was, until Dean started to help him overcome his fears, one step at a time, by sharing his own demons. Would they find a safe shore in each other?
This is a story of healing, finding peace and how fate can bring two broken people together, creating a profound bond.
•·················•·················•
While I was drawing I had this idea of fisherman!Dean and Castiel being terrified of the sea, so here's a little made up summary for a fic that lives in my head rent free now. I'm also a sucker for the red thread, so I had to include it too. I picture the story in shades of blue and green, accompanied by Hozier's music. A hopeless romantic, yeah. I've also tried out a new style and had lots of fun with it!
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teewritessmth · 3 months
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Mattress
(Niko Omilana x f! reader)
Summary : How can helping a dear friend ever go wrong?.......Right?
Warnings : smut, friends to lovers
If you weren't oblivious, it would seem crystal clear that something about your best friend definitely turned you on.
Was it his gorgeous smile? Maybe.
Was it how his eyes never seem to leave yours when you two make small talk? Perhaps.
Was it how his body completely enveloped yours as he pounded you on the soft mattress of his new bed? ......yeah.
.
.
.
"I still don't know why out of all the people in your contact list, I was the one you called to place this huge mattress down". You groan a little, playfully punching Niko's arm.
"Why not? haven't met you in a bit anyways. Good time to catch up y/n, don't be so mean". He pouts a little before ruffling your hair.
"Alright, Alright. I'm helping see-"
You reach out to tuck the covers of the mattress, unknowingly hiking your shirt up and giving Niko a good 'show' of your bare waist.
"Yeah you're definitely helping.......".
Niko scratches the back of his neck and tries to brush away these thoughts, when suddenly your phone rings on the nightstand.
"Oh excuse me for a bit".
You take your phone and head towards the living room to receive the call. Niko busies himself in placing the other ends of the cover and sets all his pillows down.
He let's out a chuckle looking at all the silly pillows you got him throughout the years that he still keeps on his bed. That man's life might as well revolve around yours.
"Sorry Nik, boss called. Apparently one of my coworkers can't figure out how to open a fuckin- what the hell are you doing?"
You look up from your phone to see a smiling Niko laying down on his bed starfish style.
"Had to check the bed yk"
"This? This is your way of checking the bed?" You ask him, your arms crossed over your chest.
He grins like a schoolboy and looks up at the ceiling.
A wicked idea runs through your head.
"Y/n wha- ".
You land on top of him with a thud.
The longing for his warmth was too much for you to handle. A sleepy Niko, laying down on a perfectly made bed, lights dimmed to perfection...and his warm, open, embrace.
So you did what anyone would do.
You jumped on top of him.
You jumped on top of your best friend.
You jumped on top of Niko Omilana.
Before you could register the embarrassment, Niko starts laughing.
"Did I make it look that good?"
"Well the bed looked cozy..."
You bury your face in his chest to hide your flushed cheeks and Niko could swear he was dying by your cuteness by the passing second.
"You're something else really".
Niko exhales slowly, letting one of his hands rest on the small of your back, the other gently hoisting your face up to meet his eyes.
He could only hope that he wasn't reading the situation wrong.
Suddenly, with newfound confidence, you run your hand timidly through his soft, curly, locks. Lightly running your fingertips along the ridges of his ear, you cup his jaw.
Niko closes the gap between you two.
You close your eyes. You stop thinking. You really don't need to. It's happening, happening right now.
His loft lips meet yours with such urgency that you stifle back a gasp. Niko flips you to his position, never breaking the kiss.
He let's his hands slowly caress your body, his face turning a cute shade of pink upon seeing your disheveled state and your plumpy lips all too sore from that intense make out session.
.
.
.
The headboard of his bed thuds against the wall periodically.
Clothes had gone flying to the corner of the room. Now all that mattered to him was the woman who laid down before him, bare, beautiful, intoxicating.
.
.
.
Broken chants of his name leave your lips.
Niko's head nested in the side of your neck, alternating between sucking dark hickeys and small licks, soothing the skin. His cock buried in you. With every thrust he could feel you trembling underneath him, your hips moving to meet his.
He increases his pace, smirking when you tightly grab his biceps to keep yourself sturdy. Your lips find his exchanging 'I love yous' and sweet words between kisses.
You clench around him tightly as you feel your orgasm approaching as Niko leaves kisses on your shoulders.
Your legs wrap around his torso pushing him deeper inside you, your back arching at the sensation.
You reach your high wrapped around him as he spills inside you.
.
.
.
Niko kisses your forehead as you scoot closer to him to lie down on his chest. Passionate exchanges of love between you two. He wraps his arms around your body, holding you to him.
Niko let's his eyes fall shut, thankful for the turn of events.
Thank god Kenny didn't pick the call when Niko wanted help for fitting his mattress.
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