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#and then my hair was untameable without getting it wet
logansbaby · 30 days
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NASTY | LOGAN HOWLETT
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❥ like the title says, it’s nasty, no other explanations needed
word count: 1k
pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader
content warnings: NSFW 18+ CONTENT BELOW, p in v, unsafe sex (don’t be like them!), oral sex, literal filth i need to be cleansed
a/n: just a little drabble because i cannot get the these pictures out of my head and im a preening slut for logan (we knew this) i haven’t written in a little bit so im rusty but anyway its just filth i need to be put down! also, nasty by ariana grande was on repeat, hence the title ❥
— ˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
Logan Howlett is the type of man that goes feral when he sees you on your knees for him.
Seeing his girl, all desperate and needy, has his body thrumming with pure, hot desire.
Like right now, for instance. He’s leant back, comfortable in his seated position, eyes struggling to stay open at the feel of you whimpering around his cock.
You’d jumped him the minute he’d returned home, leading him away from wondering eyes until you’d found your bedroom. Far too impatient, you’d pushed him through the threshold and didn’t let up until the back of his legs dug into the leather chair nearest to you. Then, without another thought, you’d dropped onto the ground before him. The minute you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked his boxers down, he groaned at the full-body shiver that rattled through you.
With a salacious glaze to your eyes, you took the tip of him, cherry red and bubbling with white desire, past spit slicked lips and sucked.
“Fuck, princess,” he’d gritted out between clenched teeth, head slamming against the back of the chair at the feel of your wet, warm mouth caressing him.
A soft, supple hand grips the skin of his thigh, nails digging into the flesh until he grunts out, tethered back to the present as his hips jump at the feel of your fingers leaving indents. The movement sends him deeper into your mouth and you both moan at that.
You suck his cock like it’s your favorite treat and you can’t get enough of it. Your eyes never break eye contact with his own. Even as you swirl your tongue from base to tip, as you gag around the entirety of him, as you lift your head up and down in desperation. He supposed you did it because you liked seeing him lose his composure from something only you could do to him.
“Yeah, jus’ like that, baby.” he groans, hands sliding down to grip at you in anyway they can. One hand strokes the side of your face tenderly as he thumbs the imprint of his cock pressing into your cheek. The other grips your hair tightly, yanking it and holding you still as he starts to fuck your throat.
His hips are relentless, cock stuffed as far as it can go and though you’re gagging around him, you look as happy as can be. Even as your eyes stream tears at the fullness and the lack of airflow. You were moaning around him, looking like you were absolutely cock drunk and it’s that thought that sends him reeling past the edge.
Stifling, untamed pleasure curls in his lower stomach and builds up, up, up until his orgasm crashes over him with overwhelming euphoria. Logan groans, loud and guttural, hips stuttering in the sweet, sweet escape of your mouth.
He barely registers the sounds of you gasping off the length of him as you try to swallow his release, a look of pure glee mixed with sweltering desire painted on your face.
Just as you’re about to swallow, though, he yanks you up and into his lap, slamming his lips into your swollen, wet ones. He tastes himself as the saliva and his release mix between the swirl of your tongues. The messy, messy kiss has you whining into his mouth, unconsciously grinding your clothed, sopping pussy onto his thigh. The taste of him between your lips, the caress of his tongue on yours, the grip his gruff hands have on your hips (which encourage your pathetic humping), makes your head spin.
Its all too much and not enough at the same time.
“Such a good girl, took me so well.” Logan praises as he pulls away from your kiss, focusing his attention on the flushed skin of your neck.
Instead of answering, you just moved your hips down harder, chasing the searing pleasure encompassing your body. The smell of your arousal had been permeating the room the minute you sucked his cock, but now, it was wafting around Logan’s nose teasingly, tempting him to ruin you.
“Atta girl, use me.” He grunts out, flexing his thigh against your cunt to relieve the pressure building at your puffy clit. When he can’t take it anymore (and neither can you, you need him so badly it hurts), he lifts your sensitive body into his arms and stands. The need to take care of you properly overpowers his urge to see you hump yourself to an orgasm on his thigh.
Your whines of protests only last a second because the minute you land on the bed, Logan was between your thighs, ripping your shorts and lace panties with his claw, before devouring you.
And after you’d finally come on his tongue, your release was all over his face, slick and shiny, as he pressed gentle kisses on your thighs. It shouldn’t have made you arch back up to his mouth, not with how sensitive you were, but it did.
And because Logan is absolutely unhinged, he wouldn’t just stop after you’d reached your high, he would continue to suckle your clit and lick up your dripping desire until you’d come undone a couple more times for him. Then, as you’re a blubbering, teary mess, he’d flip you onto your stomach, grunting at your lewd whines and whimpers, before he fucks you hard until you were crying out. With your cunt squeezing his cock in tight, delicious pulses, he’ll thrust with more vigor. As you’re shivering with pleasure below him, he’ll grip the plush of your hips and fuck you explosively until he’d finally come inside you.
While you’d be all dazed and hazy, you’d latch onto him tightly and Logan would tuck you into his side tightly. When he would try to pull out, pitiful protests would tumble from you until he got the hint. He’d settled down with you, one hand stroking your sweat soaked hair, the other tracing your back. You’d both fall asleep like that; tangled up together and still connected in the most intimate sense possible.
And if he wakes up in the morning, still inside you and hard again, he couldn’t be blamed. He turns into an animalistic version of himself the minute you get on your knees.
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catopoliscat · 6 months
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absence / suguru geto/fem!reader
suguru's been working away for a few days. time apart always made your boyfriend a little insatiable. sometimes he couldn't even wait for you to wake up before he had a taste.
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tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. (consensual) somnophilia. established relationship. canon!verse but slight au!suguru (not a cult leader/normal sorcerer). cunnilingus. fingering. one pet name, ‘my sweet thing’. spitting. suguru knows how to EAT. he’s also very, very into it if you catch my drift. porn without plot, really. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.
wc: 1.9k.
a/n: is this a drabble? how small is a fucking drabble idk - but a lil smth small while i work on a lil smth fatter ehe
mdni.
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It’s the throbbing between your legs that eventually wakes you up. 
Your head is thick, still dusted and clouded with the heavy remnants of your disturbed dreams. There’s a cool breeze against your skin, and you vaguely become aware of the lack of covers on top of you… and yet your skin feels hot, prickly. You palm at the sheets, go to roll from your back onto your side but a firm grip against your thighs keeps you planted. The feeling of restriction rouses you more, your eyelids fluttering, squinting against the darkness of your bedroom—
—and the long, hot slide of something wet against your clit has you snapping awake. 
Your eyes blink open as a breathless sound leaves your lips. Your hips buck up involuntarily against the unknown source of pleasure, a hot flush blooming across your skin. You go to rise up on your elbows, only to fall back again a breath later as you feel a strong suction against your swollen bud. 
A soft moan falls out of you, the sound snapping through the silence of your bedroom, filtering with the lewd wet sound coming from between your thighs.
Looking down, you’re greeted by the mess of ink-black hair spilling over your lower stomach, untied and untamed, tickling your skin with every movement. You can make out a single ear and black gauge amidst the dishevelled locks, the soft moonlight catching on its obsidian surface. 
Even if you couldn’t see, you could tell it was Suguru by the sounds of his deep groans alone. 
“F-fuck, Suguru,” you gasp as those tight lips clench harder around your clit. “Couldn’t… ah, couldn’t wait until the damn morning?” 
Something like a grunt and a moan is all you get in reply. Your hips go to roll again, but an arm is winding around your thigh—and a large hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still. Those sinful lips pop off of your clit with a wet smack. 
“Missed you,” you hear Suguru murmur, the words muffled against your hot flesh before he gives one long lick from your entrance upward. He moans as if the taste is all he needs to sustain him. “Missed this.” 
You bite your bottom lip, teeth dragging against the skin as your arm snakes down your body. Your fingers wind into those untamed locks, gripping the strands tightly at the root–and a rumbling moan vibrates against your hot, sensitive flesh in response. Suguru was always weak for having his hair pulled.
You rise up on one elbow. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your grip almost severe, but Suguru only groans again, his wet tongue sliding against your pussy messily. His head tilts up a little, two dark eyes looking up at you from underneath his lashes and the hair spilling across some of his face. Your own arousal glints against his lips and tongue, even his nose. A light flush blooms across his cheeks. He looks almost drunk.
He pushes against your grip easily, face diving back down an inch between your thighs. His tongue circles the slick rim of your entrance once again before sliding inside, a wet slurping sound filling the air—drinking from you like a man parched. A sharp nose bumps against your clit and you clench around his tongue tightly. 
“A-ah,” you roll your hips toward his mouth, feeling his tongue probe deeper, and Suguru makes no move to stop you this time. Instead, his large palm slides up across your stomach, dipping under your shirt to grab greedily at your breast. “You’ve r-really missed me, huh?” 
“You have no fucking idea,” he breathes out between thrusts of his tongue, voice muffled by your slick heat. Suguru wasn’t one for cursing often, but when he did, it never failed to make you clench, that coil in your gut winding a little tighter. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” 
Suguru pulls back his tongue, purses his lips, and a trickle of spit falls against your pussy, wetting you further. He smears it with his tongue, his grip on your breast tightening. His ministrations are sloppy, a mixture of his saliva and your own arousal coating his lower face, strands of his untied hair, your thighs and ass. 
“So fucking messy,” he groans, pinching at your nipple harshly almost as if you were to blame for all this. 
Suguru was typically methodical and precise when it came to your pleasure… that was until distance separated you. Then he became like this–wanting, hungry, filthy. Almost insatiable.
Typically, however, he had the patience and restraint to wait until morning. It seems tonight he had been in a rush—not even bothering to remove take off his own clothes or even your underwear fully, instead tugging them hastily to the side. They were damp too, you could feel it, and you wondered how long he had busied himself licking against the fabric until his impatience had pushed him forward. 
Your moans rise in both pitch and volume as he busies his tongue against your clit again, stimulating it in sure, quick circles with the tip. He lets the drool fall freely from his mouth until you feel it drip down between your cheeks to soak the bedsheets below you. You continue to tug and pull at his scalp, your hips twitching and your breathing growing increasingly ragged. 
Suguru can tell you’re growing close—he knows your body well enough by now to recognise the signs. Laboured breathing, moans turning to pitchy gasps, the grip on his hair that’s almost painful. He doesn’t waste any time in sliding two thick fingers inside you, the passage barely felt with how slick you are. The pads of his digits pressing against the soft part inside your walls that has your hips nearly flying off the bed; not thrusting, simply curling. Insistently. 
A guttural sound leaves Suguru’s lips in response, something like a growl. 
“Fuck!” You gasp, the combination of his tongue on your clit and his fingers massaging your spot sending you dizzy. Your lips are dry, parched, as you pant into the cool air. “I’m gonna’ fucking cum-“ 
Suguru’s fingers rub more firmly against your spot and that coil in your gut is winding so tight you fear you’ll ache in the morning. You know you’re going to crash. Hard. 
“Come on, come on,” Suguru is chanting against your pussy in breathless gasps. “Give it to me, my sweet thing, goddamn, give it—“ 
You glance down between eyelids that seem determined to clamp shut. You see Suguru’s face buried against you, hear the wet squelch of his fingers massaging you from the inside and you’re so close, so fucking close— 
Then you see the movements of Suguru’s hips; small twitches and slow grinds as he ruts his clothed cock against the mattress—the thought that he’s as aroused by this as you are, as he always is when he brings you pleasure like this—sends you careening over the edge. 
Your back bows, a harsh cry leaving your lips as your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. Eyes scrunched tight, you’re throbbing, crying out his name you think, but it’s hard to tell. Suguru’s groaning against you, whispered curses and praises falling from his lips like a symphony. 
The pleasure is blinding, seemingly infinite—Suguru’s tongue and fingers working you even now, pushing you further and further until you can’t take it anymore. When it gets too much, even for you, you tug his lips away from your oversensitive core by his hair. He removes his fingers of his own accord, a slick sound accompanying the movement. 
Your eyes are hazy, clouded, as you look at him, your breaths coming shallow and stilted. His face is soaked with you, his shining lips still parted, his tongue darting out to collect every drop as he stares back. The flush across his cheeks has darkened, and his breathing is shallow, too shallow—you recognise that look, it’s when— 
A breathless laugh falls past Suguru’s lips. He seems sated, yet drained. With a breath, he pulls his hand from your shirt and rises up onto his knees, his movements languid and sluggish. As he sits back on his haunches, his knees slightly spread, you get a clear view of the swell in his pants—and the large dark spot blooming around it. 
He had cum. Without touching himself. 
Suguru’s lips tug to one side as he looks down at you spread out before him. He doesn’t seem sheepish or embarrassed, only vaguely surprised, yet satisfied. His hair is a mess, strands clinging to his damp face and neck. His hand drifts down to his clothed, softening cock, giving it a small squeeze. It twitches in his grasp, and a small ‘hah’ leaves his mouth as his hips twitch. 
“Fuck,” he exhales as his eyelids flutter shut. “You made me cum.” He opens his eyes after a moment, letting his hand fall back to his thigh with a small sigh. “Couldn’t hold back. Not when you sounded like that.”  
You chuckle weakly as your heart calms down in your chest, feeling exhausted in the best possible way. “Not like you to lose control,” you murmur, a lazy smile on your face.
“No?” He slowly crawls over you, two forearms bracing near your head, his hair tickling your collarbones. He dips down to press his lips against yours in a wet, unhurried kiss. You sigh as you taste yourself on his tongue, the taste of both him and you making you melt against the mattress beneath you. He pulls back after a moment too short, settling his weight down against you, but even in his tired state he’s careful not to press fully. “I think you seem to be the best at making me lose my sense.”  
A nose brushes against yours, his eyelids fluttering shut in contentment. The weight against you grows a little heavier, and you imagine he must be beyond exhausted. 
But still, you’re both covered in fluid, sweat and spit. It’s a little gross. 
“We should shower,” you murmur, and Suguru hums in agreement. He makes no effort to move just yet, though. “And probably change the sheets.” 
Suguru exhales through his nose sharply in amusement, his eyes blinking open to look at you through a hooded gaze. “Who said we were done?”
You raise an eyebrow and glance over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:56am.  
“Sugur-“ 
His hips roll against yours, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your tender heat. You jolt a little, a small gasp leaving your lips in response to the stimulation—and the fact that Suguru is still very much hard underneath his trousers. 
You look up at him with a huff of disbelief. “You’re kidding. You need to rest—”
“I missed you so fucking much,” he cuts in, the words deep in tone as his lazy gaze bores into yours from above. There’s an undercurrent of need in his voice, something damningly close to desperation. “Badly.” His hips roll again, more firmly this time. Despite your reservations, you moan at the hard pressure of his cock against you–and the fact that Suguru, composed Suguru, always seemed to be insatiable. Only for you.
His smiles, something frayed at the edges as his grinding becomes more insistent, fervent. “Did you miss me too? Hah, fuck, go on. Tell me.” 
And you do.
You tell him how much you missed him many, many times that night—until warm sunlight filters into the room and you both fall asleep tangled together–amidst the very soiled sheets. 
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masterlist.
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sashi-ya · 7 months
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𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑪𝑨𝑲𝑬. Yuuta's birthday 🍰 PROFESSOR! OKKOTSU YUTA X F! READER ☆ MDNI
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🎀 tw: after yuta and you graduated, you became professors at the Tokyo metropolitan curse school. vag sex. cream pie. birthday sex. semi public 💟 wc: 663
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ happy birthday, Yuta! my sweet boi!
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Because he can be as sweet and innocent, as dark and lascivious. Because he is him, the special grade one. The dark circled man that always looks tired and dangerously sexy… because Yuta can fuck you as hard as he pleases, because you want it.
Your hair tangles around his hand, pulling from it to hold you still. Your skirt stuck around your ankles; your breasts pressed against the wall.
“Shhh…” he whispers, using the fingers of his free hand to spread your labia from behind. Yuta has you pinned against the wall of one of the sorcerers school’s classroom.
“Prof- professor Okkotsu, I- I don’t really think it’s- the new students could be here any minute”  you stutter, as if you had a choice… as if you really didn’t want to indulge in such sinful morning activities.
In any case, he doesn’t care. Those days when he used to be a sweetheart, a trembling bean sprout only remain in the past.
His lips land on the crook of your neck, a deadly kiss… those he only knows how to give. His teeth, then, carve marks over the delicately kissed spot… oh, Okkotsu… why are you always biting?
“It’s my birthday, come on…” he purrs, taking your mind to those days back in school. Melting at the sweet statement, at the innocent plead while his fingers get a coat of your wetness.
A low moan, that escapes in between bitten lips, gives your man the so awaited “yes”.  The sound of his zipper going down follows. The warmth of an untamed hardness, is next.
Yuta lets go of your hair, just to grab you by your waist. His grip is delicate, sexy, and still strong enough to bend you over one of the desks. The sorcerer’s hand fall in between your shoulder blades, pressing you hard against the wrecked desk where he used to sit.
A hand slides down your waist until your hip, pulling your ass up, leaving you ready for his intrusion. But it is not enough, he wants it deeper…
“Leg… up” Yuta moans, trembling perhaps. He wants you, so, so much. Yuta becomes weak, but immensely needy… love and lust are his only kryptonite, but also the strongest of his goodness.
You understand; deeper it is, then. Lifting your right leg, your knee finally rests on top of the desk. From the side, you are ready to take him completely.
“Nghh…” he grunts, and the sound of little drops of precum echo against the floor.
“Fuck me, birthday boy ~” you moan, looking at him from over your shoulder. What a delicious façade; serious but equally made into a mess. And a mess is what your insides are about to become, too.
A pump or maybe two with his hand, coat his shaft with enough wetness from himself. The cold surface of his ring makes him gasp when it touches his gland. And then, fast, and desperate, he finally buries into you.
Impaled, your back arches and your hips lift enough to perfectly combine your bodies in one. The slapping sound of your skins, music to your ears -and maybe for the rest of the school if they are silent enough-
Fast, faster. Harder. Yuta can’t keep fucking you without bending himself over you too. With his white uniform, the one he still wears even being a professor, getting all sweaty against your back.
Pinned, pressed down. Yuta has fallen, but his thrusts have never stopped. In fact, those are violent, reaching deeper and deeper into you, against walls that clench and release with an orgasmic releif.
“I want to finish… ngh- inside you“ he asks, politely -and probably on the verge of exploding- to finish.
“You asked a cream pie for your cake this year, didn’t you?” ~
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swifty-fox · 2 months
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my kingdom for a kiss outtakes
somewhere around the james arc i decided to save anything I deleted so here's some stuff that didn't make the cut into the final draft! (including a more corny ending)
Gale muffles another noise into his flesh, bites down hard enough he feels the bones of his wrist shift against eachother. The pain stokes him hotter, shatters his gentle fantasy for good. He was no woman, no pretty thing for John to make a home with. He’d killed men and commanded them to their deaths. He was broad and mascluline even in his soft features. He dealt in death and flew in the skies where no human ever belonged regardless of what was between their legs. He’d had other mens blood in his mouth, knew what rotting corpses smelled like. He was a soldier, all softness trained out of him in the service of god and country. A weapon, a missile, unthinking and unfeeling.
There was no love-making in his world, if John were ever to have him it would be like this. On his knees and mounted, hands heavy in his hipbone drawing him back into the press of John’s body. 
-
“I love you.” he whispers into the shameful folds of the sweatshirt. Inhales deep and brushes a thumb over the blushed head of his cock, hips twitching and breath hitching.
“I love you.” Gale spills into his hand, mouth open and wet and dampening the gray fabric as he crashes his way through his stolen orgasm.
-
“And you don’t have to tell me you love me back, not after-” John seems to chew on his words for a moment, “after everything I’ve put you through, after all I have to make up for.” 
There’s something young and vulnerable in John’s eyes, his voice and Gale is suddenly wildly angry. Not the untamable rage of his father or the forest, but a more icy sort of wrath. His own brand of fury that had carried him through missions and imprisonment and escape. Angry for John, protective of him and the ways the war had spit him out with untreated wounds. They hadn’t senf him home in a pine box like John Sr. feared, but parts of him were dead and needing buried all the same.
“You don’t have to make up for what they did. You own no part of those motherless fuckin’ Krauts’ sins.” 
John’s chin wobbles and he looks off to the side, clearing his throat and going to shove his hands in his pockets before appearing to remember he was still without.
“Is this the first time you’ve spoken of it?” Gale asks quietly.
Words tight and quick, John opts to rub the tops of his thighs instead, “Yes.” 
He should tell him. He should bare all the ugly bits himself the way he’d done to Marge over the phone. Tell him about how scared he is and the way he almost begged if he didn’t fear it would get back to his men and shake their confidence; if they would have any in him left if they learned what happened. How he thought to imagine John for the briefest moment before shoving him so far from his mind and that room that they may as well have ended up in separate universes. He opens his mouth.
Closes it. 
Opens it again, “I don’t think less of you.” 
John’s shoulders tense up around his ears and then slump as if a great weight has been cut from them. 
-
“What was your mother like?”
Gale lets the petal drop,“Is that what we’re talking about tonight? Mothers?” your mother has held me and comforted me like one of her own. Your mother brushed the hair from my forehead and the tears from my cheeks as she might a child. She didn’t have to do that. 
“You never talk about her. You talk about your old man, bastard that he is, but I’d say you sprung fully formed for all you mention a mother.” 
Suddenly regretting not indulging in a third cigarette, Gale grunts
“My Ma,” John laughs, “I almost think she’d be okay with all this. She likes you that much.”
Gale’s stomach lurching, “You can’t John. That’s not- this is the life. This is all it is. If it’s not enough you should decide that now.
-
The couch isn’t the most comfortable, but Gale doubts he’ll ever struggle again to sleep on a clean non lice-ridden surface. It’s nightmares that interrupt his sleep, throwing him straight from pale blue skies and a farmers rope around his throat into violent wakefullness. He’s silent with it, he knows, jaw clenched so tight it aches, but he’s sweating and breathing like he’s just sprinted a mile in full gear. There’s low voices coming from the kitchen, one deeper and masculine the other softer and quicker, and the faint smell of coffee. John’s parents, come to play out a thirty year old routine, it seemed. A house full of soldiers, a house full of ghosts. He thinks Ma Egan might be the strongest out of any of them.
Their words are too quiet for him to make out, but there’s a comforting warm quality to their cadence. Gale rolls to face the back of the sofa, face pressed to the clean smelling fabric and lets it soothe him back into sleep, the sound of their conversation soothing something shy and needy in his chest. 
 -
Joh- Bucky?” 
John’s head snaps up to look at his father standing in the doorway, shoulders deliberatly relaxing in an affectation of ease. 
“Need some help out in the shed, if you’re finished eating.” 
There was a cautious air between the two men, but no hostility radiating from John so when he hesitates Gale knocks his knee quietly against John’s own to spur him into movement. 
“Yeah, yeah I’m done,” He drains the last of his coffee, steals a strip of bacon from Gale’s plate with a wink and follows his father out of the room. From behind, only the larger amount of grey in John Egan Sr.’s hair marks them apart. 
“More coffee, Gale?” 
He holds his mug out eagerly for more to cut the sick-sweet taste, watching thne drink swirl darker, “Thank you.” 
She sets the percolator back on the stove, polishes at a spot-free section of the counter with her apron, “I imagine your fiance is upset to have you traveling again so soon.” 
“Marge likes her privacy,” he smiles to himself faintly, “And we’re only going to be a few days.”
The last half of his statement is a careful open door, and Ma Egan takes it.
“I do hope she won’t mind a permanent guest. Most newlyweds prefer to enjoy their new home alone.” 
Gale sips his coffee, feeling a bit like he’s flying through a flak field, “John and her are good friends,” Not really a lie in the long term, “And it’s pretty rural out there, she probably will feel better with an extra presence around the farm.”
“A farm,” Ma murmurs in suburban shock.
“I’ll take care of him,” Gale promises her, “I’ve been taking care of him for five years now.” 
This doesn’t seem to please her as much as he expects and she frowns at him with something close to grief, though it doesn’t seem directed entirely at him. She sits with it for a few moments before carefully smoothing her face out into something more lovingly exasperated. A woman who’d send her husband and son both off to war and knew how to wear that pain quietly. 
“I hope Marge has a few single friends, at least then,” She sighs, “I think he’s turns his nose up at every girl in our Church at this point.”
“A few,” He says, mouth dry.
-
“He’s far too grown for me to cling to him,” Ma Egan says, voice wobbling, “But then, I did lose a few years.” 
-
He’s asked John, loud bombastic life of the part John Egan, to live a quiet life with him. 
Gale cups his hands around his mouth.
“I Love John Egan!” 
A bellow, full bodied and from his chest. He shouts it to the curvature of the world, to the clouds and the blue-blue sky.
It’s not the first time he’s said it, not by a longshot. But John beams like it is each and every time.
 Beside him John laughs in shocked delight, lips parted and cheeks flushed. He fights with Bugs for a second, still unpracticed and Gale takes pity on time, drawing the white gelding astride his own mare by the reins. He kisses John, saddle creaking as he leans over. John presses their foreheads together briefly and then turns, whooping in delight, the sound echoing over the mountains of Wyoming.
After a moment, laughter on his cheeks, Gale howls along with him.
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I know u busy but please please PLEASEEEE we need more of Matty w tutor. Maybe just a lil blurb of her being bossy & making him whimper.
since my partner loves this AU its happening xxxx
picture a scene:
It's a thursday evening, say around 6pm, and you're both upstairs in Matty's room
The door is closed, but not locked, but that all fades to the background the moment you feel Matty's rough hands run over the curve of your waist, toying with the hem of your tank top
You feel a gust of wind come from the cracked window, curtains flowing prettily as you get lost on Matty's mouth, tongue licking into yours at a dizzying pace, making you feel lightheaded. Your hands wander down to grip his waist, pulling him in to press him flush against your body, drinking in the low groan that rips itself from Matty's throat.
Quiet pants fill the room as he feels you up, groping and touching whenever he can reach with abandon, absolutely shameless in the way he gropes your ass through your skin tight jeans, kneading the flesh experimentally, grinning at your pleased moans.
Matty whispers something against your mouth, and you pull away to hear him more clearly. His pupils are dilated, face flush and chest heaving as you brush a strand of hair out of his face. "What was that baby?" you speak lowly, smiling at him.
"Wanna see your tits, please love." his voice is choked, and you can feel him hard against your thigh as one of his hands comes up to cup your tits, gasping softly as this skin makes contact with the fabric of your top. The smirk that spreads onto your face is smug, and you eye him up and down before responding.
"Want me to take my top off, is that it? See my tits?" you parrot his question back at him, and Matty nods, swallowing dryly as his cock strains against his trousers, impossibly hard. "Beg for it then, baby, you know how much i love hearing you." Matty's eyes widen like this is the first time, and the sight makes your head spin.
His mouth opens a few times, stuttering over words and sentences before he finally gathers himself, choking out a few pleas "Please love, wanna see them so badly, I know you're so pretty underneath all those cloth-" you cut him off with a finger to the lips, letting it drag down his bottom lip before it snaps back into place.
"Knees." you say, as clearly as you can without giving away how fucking turned on you are. Matty just stares at you, unmoving as you cock your head at him, raising your eyebrows. "Have I not been coherent? You heard me well enough Matty, go on, get on your knees."
His face flushes more, if that's even possible, and you can see his eyes flutter for a moment before his hands drop from your hips, and he starts to bend his knees.
The sight makes you dizzy with need, and you feel faint when you hear him hit the wooden floor, head still down. You don't know how to react, but your body certainly does. One of your hands threads itself into his untamed hair, tugging on it to make him show his face.
His eyes are glassy, and he blinks rapidly at you, his expression one of shame mixed with arousal. You sigh at the sight of him, smiling sweetly before nodding as if to say 'get on with it'.
"Please." Matty starts, his voice cracking at the end of the word, knees shifting on the hardwood floor. You can feel how wet you are even just standing there, and the sight of Matty on his knees and hard dont help you one bit. "Please let me see your tits love, need to feel them so fucking bad." he begs eyes watering as his cock twitches in his jeans, the knowledge that you are the one that got him like this going straight to your head.
You nod again, signaling him to keep going. "You'd look so pretty m'love, always make me s'fucking hard i feel like m'gonna cum from the sight of you. Need to touch them love- fuck, please baby."
Matty whines when your fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, slowly but surely inching it up to reveal the skin of your stomach, then your ribs, until finally..
You rid yourself of the top, the cold air hitting your nipples making you shiver slightly. Matty can't contain the whine that leaves his lips, ringing like music in your ears as his hands come up to grab your waist, pressing hot kisses to your bare hips and stomach.
His eyes are glued to your chest as he kisses your skin, licking and sucking light hickeys into it while you rake a hand through his hair once more, throwing your head back to enjoy the sensation. "You always sound so good when you beg for me, baby, can't resist you." Matty nods against you, his tongue rough and soft at the same time, your mind hazy and foggy from the whole situation, and you're quite sure you're still dreaming.
"Can I please come up? Please love, i need you so bad, m'so fucking hard for you." Matty whimpers, his voice high pitched and broken. You nod, watching as he steadily rises and immediately smashes his lips against yours. Taking over the kiss in a heartbeat, you let your hands roam over the expanse of his back, your nails digging into the clothed skin roughly. "Can I-" Matty starts, cut off by the feeling of your lower half pressed against his, a soft moan spilling from his lips.
"Mhm? Didn't quite catch that m'afraid." you tease, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip. "Can I t-touch them? I really want to."
How can you resist such a sweet request?
"Course you can baby, you've earned it begging so nicely for me." Your ego inflates even more at the eager nods he gives you, eyes wide and wet as his hands grope your tits softly, scared to apply too much pressure. Matty absentmindedly grinds himself against your thigh as he touches you, whiny moans filling your ears as you watch him closely, loving every second of this.
Matty takes a nipple between two fingers and rolls it experimentally, gasping at the choked groan that leaves your lips, smiling at his new find. "Like that, love?"
"I do, please keep going." you force out as he gets rougher, finally moving in to kiss you again. The combination of his mouth on yours and his hands on your chest makes you weak at the knees, desperately trying not to fall over. "Can we- can we lay down please?" Matty asks timidly once you pull away, shying away a bit as you giggle, nodding your head and grabbing his hand reassuringly.
"Take me to bed, Matty."
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Text
Can’t get enough
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*Not my GIF - also the GIF isn’t directly related to the story, but really who doesn’t need an excuse to look at those abs?
Here’s another thing I wrote. This one has even less plot than the last so, enjoy i guess!
Summary: Basically just shameless Nikolai x reader insert smut with a bit of fluff on the side.
Word count: 1.5K ish
Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Smut, fem!reader, mention of oral sex, marking, handjob, P in V sex, unprotected sex & ejaculation (but they are married if that makes it better)
“You’re far too good at that,” you murmured as you came down from your high. Nikolai chuckled, the vibration against your over sensitive flesh making you squirm. Burying your hands in his untamed hair, you tugged him upwards. The self-satisfied smirk on his face would have been unbearably smug if he hadn’t just brought you to orgasm for the third time that night. He raised himself up on his elbows and pressed his lips to yours in a lazy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Then he flipped over onto his back and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his side. You snuggled in closer, throwing one leg over his as you ran your hand lightly across his chest and down, tracing absent patterns into his skin. He sighed contentedly, his eyes slipping closed. You studied his profile for a moment, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. Your mother had warned you that for women, sex was something to be endured rather than enjoyed. You were to allow your husband to take his pleasure as he wished, as was his right, and your role was only to provide him with a son and heir. Thankfully, the reality had turned out to be quite different and you had found Nikolai to be an attentive and unselfish lover. At first, you’d thought it was just a point of pride for him, a need to impress you when you were first married, but here you were years down the line and he was still as dedicated to your pleasure as he had been in the beginning, his own release always a secondary concern. In fact, you worried sometimes that perhaps he was neglecting his own needs in favor of satisfying yours, though of course he would never admit to it. Outside of the bedroom, he was just as thoughtful. As the newly crowned King of Ravka, his position was demanding, but he made a concentrated effort to put you first as much as he was able, and he rarely denied you anything that it was in his power to give. He could be a shameless flirt, but you knew without a doubt that he loved you, and you certainly loved him. You leaned up over him to press kisses to the tip of his nose, his eyelids, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and his lips quirked up into a smile. He turned towards you, seeking a real kiss but you pulled back slightly so you could trail your lips down his throat instead and he hummed his approval, tipping his head back to give you better access. You nipped lightly at his Adam’s apple and bit down gently on the corded muscle at the juncture of his shoulder, drawing a gasp from him as you continued your wet, open mouthed path to his collarbone. Letting your hand drift lower, past his navel, you raked your nails gently across his pelvis while you sucked a bruise into his skin. His cock twitched in response, the muscles of his toned abdomen dancing under your hand. You tilted your head up to look at his face, ghosting your fingertips over his growing erection. “Recovered already?” He didn’t open his eyes, but he made an affirmative sound as you took him in hand, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock to gather the bead of pre-come already leaking there and spreading it as lubrication. You grasped him in a tight fist, jerking him roughly until he was panting, unable to stop himself from thrusting into your hand. When you added a twist of your wrist on the upstroke and ducked your head to swirl your tongue over one sensitive nipple, he groaned, his whole body shuddering. He rolled towards you without warning, eyes still closed, his mouth somehow finding yours and his weight pressing you into the mattress. You parted your legs for him, allowing him to position himself comfortably between your thighs as he kissed you, licking slowly into your mouth until you were both breathless. When you finally broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you through his lashes. You reached between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock again and you felt his breath hitch. “I need to be inside you,” he murmured as you resumed stroking him. You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he wanted to go another round so soon. “Again?” He dipped his head to nuzzle at the hollow of your throat, trailing his hand lightly down your side. “Mmhmm.” “You’re insatiable,” you teased. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, mouthing at the swell of your breast. He captured one dusky peak gently between his teeth at the same time as his fingers found your slick center and you gasped, arching into him, your body straining for more. “I can’t get enough of you,” he admitted. His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes was soft as they raised to meet yours. You lifted your free hand to tenderly card your fingers through his hair and he smiled, leaning into your touch, before he moved up to claim your mouth again. You pushed lightly at his shoulder, urging him onto his back and he went easily, his hands settling on your thighs as you straddled him. You raised yourself up on your knees, splaying one hand on his chest for balance and grasping his cock with the other, giving him several firm strokes as you lined him up with your entrance. His eyelids fluttered closed again and he inhaled sharply, his thumbs caressing your thighs as you sank down onto him, pausing only when your hips were flush with his. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the feeling of fullness. You ground your hips against his experimentally, simultaneously clenching your inner muscles and he groaned loudly, hands tightening on your thighs, his fingertips digging into your flesh almost hard enough to bruise. You repeated the motion, the combination of his reaction and the added friction to your clit already enough to have you chasing release. You sat up straighter as you began to ride him, setting a hard, fast rhythm, lifting yourself up until only the head of his cock remained inside you and then dropping back down to take his entire length at once, your thigh muscles burning with the effort. Nikolai pushed himself up into a sitting position, bracing himself on one arm and tangling his free hand in your hair so that he could pull you in for a bruising kiss, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You nipped at his bottom lip when he released you and his hands found your waist, helping rather than guiding as he began thrusting up to meet you, the deeper penetration sending you both hurtling towards release in just a matter of moments. He slipped his hand between your sweat slick bodies with practiced ease, determined as ever that you should reach your climax first but you had already decided that this would be for him alone and you would not be deterred. Lacing your fingers through his, you stopped him before he reached his destination and kissed him thoroughly to distract him from his goal. You moved your hips harder against him until his movements became frantic, losing all semblance of rhythm. “Come for me,” you commanded quietly and he did, the gentle caress of your voice in his ear exactly what he needed to send him over the edge. He cried out, his body taught as he spilled his seed inside of you. You clung to him as the wave of his orgasm crested and peaked, one hand in his hair and the other sweeping across his broad shoulders. You stayed that way, your bodies tangled together so intimately that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began, until your breathing calmed and the pounding of your hearts slowed to their usual steady rhythm.
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cowboycakes · 2 years
Note
I want to ride Johnny until I cry out in orgasmic bliss like a coyote howling to the full moon.
ah, my first johnny ask 😊 when i tell you this is the realest shit i've ever heard... and that simile is so poetic. yeehaw. i love it.
★ RIDING JOHNNY JOESTAR ★
MINORS DNI (18+)
Warnings: nsfw. sub johnny. afab reader. dacryphilia, slight cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex/creampie, leaving hickeys. johnny likes to be praised, sex is on the fluffier side. i'm a johnny dickrider idc idc idc. porn without plot, unedited.
WC: 1k
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from the get-go, johnny's whining. even when you first sink down on him. when you're still adjusting yourself on his cock, he's already breathing erratically and squinting his eyes. he lets out a low sigh when you bottom out, overtaken by the warmth that swallows his cock.
he can't stand the fact that this feeling has to end later.
you sit on him for a moment, unmoving, relishing in the slightly painful stretch that his pretty cock is giving you. you let him know how great he feels, and take some time to play with a blonde curl in his hair - he loves it when you dote on him during sex.
you start off slow for him, easing yourself up and down on his length. the mattress squeaks at the shifting of your weight.
johnny sucks in air through gritted teeth, then lets out sweet, low moans through parted lips. he can't keep his mouth shut, not even if you begged him to.
he's not sure how to occupy his hands because the feeling of your pussy strangling his cock is enough to make him lose any and all direction. he'll clutch the sheets with sweaty palms, then he'll brace himself with one hand against the headboard behind him while you roll your hips down onto his cock, pushing the two of you rhythmically back and forth on the bed.
"johnny..." you moan repeatedly with each thrust you give him.
the sound of his name on your lips turns his face beet red.
you decide to speed up, giving him the hint that you can take the reins. he anchors his hands on your hips and follows your motions.
the room fills with the wet slapping sounds of your pelvis bouncing off of his... and johnny's moans only get louder, more guttural and untamed. he can't help but writhe underneath you. he's trying to contain himself, but his eyes can't leave your tits as they bounce with the rise and fall of your body onto his, and his cock is so goddamn sensitive right now...
so, of course he's gonna start crying, and its all your fault. you feel too fucking good, and he's doing everything in his power to make this last. he desperately doesn't want to cum yet. he craves the feeling of his body inside of yours, in a state where the two of you as close as you can be... he doesn't want it to be over.
you notice the small teardrops that once pricked the corners of his eyes have now welled up and spilled over, streaming over his reddened cheeks. his thick, delicate lashes stick together as he tries to bat the tears from his eyes.
he's gorgeous when he cries - almost angelic. his glassed-over blue irises and furrowed blonde brows bring about an innocence to him that he doesn't always possess. its hard to feel bad for making him sob underneath you when he looks this fucking pretty while he does it. the urge to nurture him hits you anyway.
"you alright, johnny?" you ask, using the pad of your thumb to wipe a hot tear off his cheek.
"uh huh... don't fucking stop..." he chokes through his sobs. "please- don't stop..."
you let tender fingers caress the side of his face. he turns his head towards your hand a bit, attempting to leave small kisses on your palms.
you can feel your orgasm winding up as a pleasure deep inside of you arises. your abdomen and thighs contract, and the walls of your cunt twitch around johnny's cock, which drives him fucking nuts.
he finds the strength to sit up a bit, to give you the leverage to take him even deeper and chase your orgasm.
the two of you take turns letting your mouths roam over each other's upper bodies while in this new sitting position. you sloppily kiss him at first, and he melts into your touch. your kisses morph into painful blue marks all over his neck and collar bones. he whines at the residual pain - he'll still be whining about it when he looks in the mirror tomorrow morning and those bruises still stain his skin.
he follows your lead once you're done with him - taking his open mouth over your chest, smearing his baby blue lipstick and drool all over your tits. he pays special attention to your hardened nipples. he pushes his face into your tits and sucks on them, hard, causing you to whine about how much you love the feeling of his mouth on your body. you push into him and wrap your arms around his back, bringing the two of you into an intimate, warm embrace while you fuck desperately down into his lap.
even though his mouth is preoccupied, his moans haven't stopped. you can feel his lips vibrating into the tender skin of your breasts. he takes little pauses to breathe and curse when he feels the head of his cock hit your cervix.
he takes his lips off of you and throws his head back when he's about to cum. an open-mouthed look of ecstasy is painted on his face, his skin shines with sweat and tears.
he's letting out high-pitched panting sounds.
"a-are you going to..." he breathes "cum on my cock?"
"i'm close, johnny..." you squeak. "are you-"
"mmmh... f-fuck!" is all he can muster.
he empties himself inside of you, panting as his hips twitch sporadically against yours. the warm rush of his seed fills you up. you continue fucking his cum into your cunt until your own orgasm hits.
you collapse into johnny as a string of cries pours out of your mouth. he guides the two of you down flat onto the mattress. both of your minds are blank. your bodies, limp.
he uses a weak hand to attempt to wipe his cum that spills down your thighs and over his cock. you respond by wiping the stray tears that trail down his face.
johnny will tangle you in the sheets after he's got you cleaned up. he'll hold you for however long you're going to let him.
© cowboycakes.
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author's note: anon, you didn't ask for all this but FUCK I WANT TO RIDE HIM SO motherfuckn BAD like you do not understand. this was horribly self-indulgent IM SORRY. i thought this would be a quick lil scenario but it turned into this very fast. so fast it did not even make it to the wips page. because that's what johnny does to me ig...
thanks for reading! i appreciate every like, comment, and rb y'all send my way. i especially appreciate it when you guys ramble in the tags about what you liked. its cute.
requests/thirsts for jjba and my inbox are open, as usual :)
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lossie92 · 3 months
Text
As promised, here's the fluffy and spicy snippet. It comes from one of my unpublished WIPs, Romance Comes Later.
You can find another snippet from this story here 😉
Hope you enjoy!
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Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, explicit sexual content, D/s undertones
-
This time the kiss was softer and slower; a welcoming; a coming home. It was everything a kiss should be and Madara relished in it like he rarely ever did, taking pleasure in all the little sighs and moans coming out of Tobirama's lovely mouth. 
He rolled them over, careful not to put too much of his weight onto Tobirama. He needn't have worried though as it seemed the omega was too busy kissing him to care about anything else, not even the fact that the yukata he was wearing had bunched up around his slim hips, exposing his long lean legs. 
Though Madara tried valiantly, it was impossible to resist the temptation of running his blunt nails up the inside of one of those shapely, pale legs. Tobirama responded to it by parting his legs even more in a clear invitation, his back arching when Madara lowered himself between them and then moved his hips in a slow roll, the wetness of the omega's cunt soaking his fundoshi. The way Tobirama moaned at that sent a jolt of pleasure down Madara's spine and made him jerk forward with a hiss, his cock rubbing between Tobirama's folds and on the underside of his hard length. 
They both groaned at that, breaking the kiss. Their breathing was quick and wet, their lips only a hair’s breadth apart.
Madara licked at his lips, chasing the taste of their kiss, and smiled when he saw the hunger in Tobirama’s eyes as he watched him do it. His pupils were blown wide, dark maroon over brilliant red, his skin was flushed, his lips parted, and his hair surrounded his head like a halo of silver.
“Cute,” Madara whispered, though he didn't mean to say it.
Tobirama swallowed and blinked at him slowly, surprised, but not displeased. “I… y-you mean me?” He asked in a breathless sort of voice. “You th-think I'm—”
“That you're cute, yes,” Madara confirmed as he pressed a soft kiss on Tobirama's lips before he nuzzled against the omega's cheek. “Very cute. Adorable. And pretty. So, so pretty.”
“Oh,” Tobirama breathed out. His blush had definitely darkened and he both looked and smelled so thoroughly pleased it made Madara purr in satisfaction.
Trancing the line of Tobirama's jaw with his nose just as one of his hands moved to squeeze Tobirama's ass, he said, “Mm. And you know what I think?” 
Tobirama shook his head, his breath hitching. “No. Wh-what is it?”
“I think I want to eat you up,” Madara said with a hint of a growl in his voice before he nipped at Tobirama's shoulder playfully, his teeth grazing the exact spot where he had almost bitten the other man earlier. “Can I do that? Will you let me make you feel good? Make you mine?”
With a sigh Tobirama tilted his head to the side before he said in a breathy voice, “Yeah. You can do that. Whatever… whatever you want.”
That declaration gave Madara a pause. As much as he was thrilled that Tobirama apparently trusted him to this extent, it went without saying he had little reason to feel this way. 
“Are you sure?” He asked, tone serious. “I'll stop if you tell me to. At any point,” he added, “But if I bite you… You won't be able to take that back.”
Tobirama said nothing at first. Instead he cupped Madara's face gently between his hands and drew him close for a long, deep kiss. 
When they broke apart, he smiled at Madara and said, “I know.”
Madara sighed and leaned in for another kiss. “Alright. But please tell me if you wish to stop,” he said, “or if you don't like something.”
“I will,” Tobirama assured him before he closed the distance between them again.
They kissed for what felt like eternity. At first it was slow and languid, a build-up to something more. Then it shifted into something deeper and untamed, the sweet and spicy scent of their arousal getting thicker and more prominent in the air around them. 
Madara found himself enjoying every second of it. Kissing Tobirama was quickly becoming one of his favourite things to do, as stupid as it may sound, and he couldn't help indulging, especially when it seemed to bring the omega so much pleasure. He smelled of relaxation, contentment, and desire, all things that any alpha would find absolutely irresistible, especially if they had any reason to believe they were the reason behind all three. 
“You smell amazing,” he rasped when they finally broke apart to catch their breath. “Fucking delicious. So sweet, so lovely…”
Tobirama hummed in response as he blinked lazily, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. 
“So sweet and all mine,” Madara said next, nuzzling against Tobirama's cheek. “You're all mine, Tobirama, aren't you?”
“Yours,” Tobirama agreed. He fit his face in the crook of Madara's neck, his arms tightening around Madara's shoulders as he sighed a breathy, “All yours.”
It was more than enough to have Madara purring, the low sound coming from deep within his chest. Tobirama seemed to relax even further at that. His eyes slipped closed and he sighed again, a soft little sound that Madara thought was unfairly adorable. Then again all of Tobirama – his omega, his mate, his wife, his – was adorable. Prefect and adorable, and so, so pretty it clearly made Madara a little bit stupid.
Huffing at how ridiculous his thoughts have gotten all thanks to his hindbrain, he kissed Tobirama's cheek before moving his lips lower until he could suck at one of the scent glands at the base of Tobirama's neck. Tobirama whimpered at the sensation, his hot breath fanning over Madara's shoulder.
“Good?” Madara murmured in-between kissing and sucking at the gland.
“Mm, yes,” Tobirama gasped in response. His fingers dug into Madara's back and scalp in an obvious bid to keep him close. “Yeah, it's… I want…!”
Madara smiled. “Hm? What do you want?"
There was a brief pause as Tobirama gathered his scattered thoughts. 
“Bite me,” he finally managed to say, his voice only just louder than a whisper. “Can you… will you bite me?”
“Only if you say please,” Madara told him, his smile turning into a full-on grin when the request made Tobirama curse under his breath. “Come on, darling,” he encouraged as he pressed his thumb against the already reddened skin that covered the scent gland, “you can be good for me and say please.”
“P-please,” Tobirama choked out obediently. His voice was a bit higher and the needy note in it went straight to Madara's cock, making it twitch. “Please, Madara… p-please bite me. Please.”
“Good job, sweetheart,” Madara praised. He continued to rub over and around the scent gland, applying just enough pressure to make it sting. “You deserve a prize. All good, sweet boys do, mm?”
Tobirama nodded. “Y-yeah. I'm, I'm good. S’ good.”
Madara couldn't hold back a chuckle. 
“You are, yes,” he confirmed before he leaned in just close enough that his breath would ghost over Tobirama's neck and shoulder with every word he said. It made Tobirama squirm in his hold, another whimper falling from his kiss-swollen, parted lips. “Such a good omega. So lovely and good for me.”
“Ngh,” was all Tobirama could say in response, it seemed.
Already overwhelmed and they have barely even started. Not that Madara minded, of course. 
He moved his hand away after one more careful press of his thumb. Then he finally closed the remaining distance and kissed right over the gland only to then sink his teeth into it until he tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood. 
Tobirama screamed as he came. His hold on Madara tightened and his head fell back against the pillows, leaving the long line of his neck on full display. Madara licked at the blood slowly seeping out of the bite before he kissed his way up Tobirama's neck, sucking gently at the pale skin. When he reached Tobirama's lips, he kissed the omega hard and deep, his tongue curling against Tobirama's.
It took a few long moments before they broke apart. Tobirama was panting, completely out of breath. His glazed over eyes were focused on Madara and he smiled, a dopey, sweet smile that made him look as happy and content as he smelled.
Madara returned that smile while he ran his fingers over the bite, healing it just enough that it wouldn't bleed or hurt. Selfishly, he wished it would scar. It wasn't a mating bite, but it was still a claim; a way to show Tobirama was his and only his. 
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deapax · 10 months
Text
Suiting her
Characters: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Summary: After escaping the hex the witch’s focus shifts to getting her powers back. Yet she can’t just ignore the looks you give her once she shows off her new style.
Word Count - no idea, enough I hope
Warnings - Smut, strap on, Agatha being merciless, overstimulation, rough sex, mommy kink
A/N - set after the hex -> also this is my first fic on here so leave a comment if you got improvements!
Originally posted by deapax
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“Y/N, darling, do you mind grabbing the spell books from the shelf? The red and blue ones.” The witch’s voice echoed in your head as you rolled your eyes, heading to the shelf to do as you were told even though you had imagined this morning a lot differently.
Just a few days back you’d helped her to escape the hex just to find out that Agatha had lost access to her beloved powers. Very quickly that had become her new focus, she had developed quite an obsession to find a way to get to the what she called Witch’s Road. You didn’t know anything about this place, you weren’t a witch yourself, you were simply at Agatha’s mercy, nothing more than her loyal lover. She had never mentioned the word girlfriend, even though you liked dreaming of a life in which Agatha would be able to embrace her feelings for her, maybe even show some affection.
“Y/N, I’m waiting. Don’t make me punish you again.” The voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You’d have to arrange with the fact that her focus was no longer on you like it had been during the hex, no matter how draining it was. Like the obedient pup you were you fetched the books and made your way to the living room of the little cabin you’d found shelter in, placing them down on the table in front of Agatha, your eyes glued to the floor as you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of you drooling over her.
“Good girl. You may start preparing lunch while I study those books, you know I value silence.” She stated rather dry, which made you clench your fists, tears dwelling in your eyes as you bit down your lip trying to hold back. It was unfair, you’d done anything for her and that’s how she thanked you? “No. You’re old enough to cook alone and I am independent enough to-“ That’s when you lifted your gaze to meet Agatha’s to make your point, yet you choked on your very own words at the view that was presented to you.
You’d known Agatha to be the elderly woman with the dark untamed curly hair and her dark purple dress. The Agatha in front of you was much different from that. She had out her hair up to a messy bun and the make up she wore was way more present, making her look even younger. But what caught your eyes the most was the suit she’d chosen to put over a white blouse, her necklace dangling from her neck. She was almost looking like she was heading to an important meeting. “Independent you say? Darling, we both know you couldn’t even survive a day without me, no need to lie to yourself. But I think you know I cannot let that little comment of yours slide so easily. Mommy needs to teach her pup some manners. Kneel.”
It was the change of tone that got to you, the attention that you suddenly had, the books long forgotten. You felt your legs pressing together as wetness started to pool between them. God you could cum from that sight alone. Without hesitation you dropped down on your knees in front of the older witch who was still settled rather comfortably on the big old fashioned chair. With doe eyes you looked up at your mommy, as she liked to call herself, yet you couldn’t agree more. “Let’s out that big loose mouth of yours to better use shall we?” Your mouth started watering as you noticed the bulge in the witch’s suit pants, that she now unbuttoned and pulled down just enough to pull her favourite purple strap out of it. It was standing proudly as your mouth slowly approached it, your eyes in Agatha’s at all times just how she’d taught you.
You licked a straight line up her strap, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking the large toy into her mouth. By the fact that she’d chosen her largest one you knew you were in big trouble. Agatha wasn’t playing around when it came to her punishments. You started sucking her off like she could feel it, hollowing your cheeks under pressing your lips against the strap before taking it even deeper until it hit the back of your mouth, making your choke. As you pulled back you met Agatha’s hand, pushing you back down. “Nuh uh, you know good girls take what they’re given. You don’t wanna disappoint mommy after the little stunt you pulled earlier do you now?” You shook your head, trying your best to keep sucking the toy, tears starting to build up as Agatha gripped your hair tighter, guiding your head on the strap just the way she liked it. Hearing her quite grunts and moans that escaped her mouth by the simple view of you encouraged you to keep going until Agatha finally had enough, the toy now covered in your salvia and your cheeks stained with your shed salty tears.
“Get up, bend over the table. I’m done playing around with you. If you wanna be a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” Her voice only fuelled your desire for her, desperate to make her proud and earn her forgiveness, but you knew better than that. Agatha wasn’t one to forgive easily, she’d proven that many times and nights before. Yet you still had allowed your feelings to take over you. Agatha’s strong hand wrapped around your throat to lift you back on your feet made you realise that you’d been too slow for her liking. Roughly she turned you around, bending you over the table, holding you down by your neck as she impatiently got rid of your pants and panties.
She now was leaning over you, you could feel the wet strap pressing against your thigh as she whispered in your ear. “Dumb little pup really thought you could escape mommy’s grip hm? I’ll never let you go. But I know you wouldn’t want to leave me, you’re such a whore for me, princess. Can’t go a day without my strap can you? You know if you wanted mommy’s attention you could’ve just asked. Mommy’s got some stress she needs to take out.” Her voice was raspy, you could tell she was exhausted and frustrated from not finding a solution for her problem since days. You started feeling bad for being so selfish, wanting all her attention for yourself while she deserved to take some time for herself after everything she’d gone through in the hex.
She licked along your ear shell, biting your earlobe and pulling on it before she got back in an upright position and used her free hand to guide the strap to your soaking wet folds, running it through them until she suddenly pushed forwards. You cried out softly, your hands gripping either side of the table as she sent another rough push right after, burying the strap inside your gaping hole. “Mommy! ‘S so big, hurts..” You whined but Agatha just laughed wickedly, pulling back just to slam the toy back inside you, the wetness of your cunt making it easy for her to pick up a quick pace, the sinful sound of skin hitting skin filling the silent room. “That’s the point of a punishment, pup. It’s supposed to hurt. But you know mommy would never do something that you don’t deserve, ain’t that right?” You could hear her panting as she tightened her grip on your neck while her nails of her other hand dug into the skin of your thigh as she kept them wide open for her.
“ ‘M so sorry for misbehaving, mo-mommy. I’ll be good, I know I deserve this.” She cried out, not being to hold back at the way Agatha manhandled you, fucking you senselessly, turning your brain to mush within a couple of seconds. The change of the rhythm Agatha fucked you with was enough to take you to the edge already. She slowed down her movement, yet she made sure the tip of the toy was hitting your sweet spot every time she thrusted the toy inside your tight hole, making your legs shake as you came, your cum dripping down your legs. Your expression change the second you noticed you’d just broken another one of your mommy’s rules.
“Oh? Did mommy’s strap fuck you so well that you forgot the simplest rule of them all? Tell me.” Smack. Her hand fell hardly on your ass you tried your best to come down from your high to form a sentence that made sense. You cried out as another blow hit your ass cheek. By the way it felt and sounded you could tell you’d be having troubles sitting the next few days. “Mind’s empty.. ‘m sorry I came without permission, mommy. I-“ Another smack interrupted your pathetic apology. You knew it didn’t matter what you said, you’d fucked up big time and she was prepared. Suddenly the witch started moving at a rapid speed again, rutting you against the table as she ignored your cries and begs. “It’s too much, mommy please! C-can’t take any more!” Tears pooled on the table as she continued taking you like her life was depending on you. The way the table was moving under her powerful thrusts you got scared that her cup of tea would end up on the ground very soon which you obviously would have to clean up afterwards. “Should’ve thought about that before you got mommy all angry and disappointed at you, princess. You can and you will give me another, and another if I tell you to. See it as a friendly reminder of who’s in charge here.”
Her voice started shaking, you could tell she was close as well by the way her movements started getting sloppier, her thrusts harder as she tried desperately to chase her own orgasm. The way she cried out your name when she came made all the pain worth it. Your knuckles turned white as you came again, sobbing loudly as she rid out her own orgasm before pulling out of you and dropping back down on her chair, pulling you along with her. “Sh sh sh, pup. You did so well for mommy. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She pulled you into her lap, wiping your tears, giving you a moment to at least catch your breath before she lifted you back on her strap. “Now rest some while I study those books, you’ll need your energy for later if I don’t find a way to get my powers back anytime soon.” Tiredly you rested your head on Agatha’s shoulder, closing your eyes as you felt her hand on your back drawing little patterns on it with her hand as she opened the book and mumbled a few spells, her voice soothing you to sleep not too long after.
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lovejosephquinn · 2 years
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Can I request reader always being flustered by Joe when they make out! Like she is drunk with kisses and Joe knows it and he teases her about it. He teases her vocals and also makes out with her slow on purpose or sometimes even changes the speed and technique of kisses while kissing on purpose cause he know it will cause reader a reaction. Reader is pretty shy so she is not used to that kind of stuff but she loves it! And he is always checking on her during the make out! Like “ you ok?” “You flustered” “Want to stop?” “You love that?” “How about this?” In conclusion they make out and reader is flustered 😅 Good day!!✨💕✨
Omgggg the disgusting amount of pining into smut, my brains rotting at the thought. Definite blurb material, I LOVE
I hope it's what you'd envisioned! Thank you for requesting x
UNDER 18'S DNI x
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You had been an exceptionally shy person all of your life, but your boyfriend certainly brought that darker side out of you. In this particular moment you were both stripped down to your underwear, straddling your legs on Joe's lap practically screaming at him to stop teasing you with the agonising, petty pecks he was planting onto your lips.
"I'm sorry, love, what do you need, show me what you need." You don't mutter a word instead you try and crash onto his lips, he moves away. Instead, his hand moves to your cheek, a soft touch like it's barely touching you, he strokes his thumb over it and whispers, "well someone's eager, how about this?" He gingerly touches your lips again with his, slowly moving them to create a gentle sensation.
You'd had enough of the ridiculed behaviour, for the last hour Joe had been slowly moving his lips along yours whilst you'd been trying to throw your tongue into his mouth, him making no room for entrance whatsoever, he'd stopped to pepper kisses all around your face at one point, which was sincerely adorable, but you weren't looking for cute at this very moment, you wanted brutal lip smacking and whimpers to be filling the room. Your core was soaking which only added to the desperation, he was playing with you, he knew he had you right where he wanted you, and you hated that you loved it, secretly.
You began to climb off Joe and sat next to him, folding your arms like an upset child and your bottom lip puffed out as you took a really frustrated sigh. "You ok, baby? What's the matter? Get all flustered that I wasn't doing what you wanted?" He knew? Of course he damn well knew what he was doing.
"I'm only just starting to get confident with this stuff Joe and you're irritating the life out of me, if this is what teasing feels like I don't want it!" You turn from him, huffing and puffing again. Suddenly you feel your hair being pushed to one side, his mouth creeping onto your neck, leaving goosebumps as he trails his tongue up your neck and comes back down with sloppy, wet kisses pressed against your skin. You shudder and can't help the groan that escapes your throat.
"Is this better Y/N, is this what you want?" Your shy being kicked in as you mumbled a "mhm." His teeth nibbled on your neck, making your hole practically clench around nothing. You exhaled a moan and turned back to him and without warning, Joe pushed you back into the sofa and pressed himself onto you and worked his way from your collar bone, back to your neck, up your jawline and finally pushed his lips against yours furiously. His tongue pushed straight through to your now open-mouthed kiss; this was exactly what you wanted. Your fingers flew up, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to pull on, you received the most alluring moan from your boyfriend's mouth. Confidence restored.
Breaking from the untamed moment you just shared, Joe's darkened eyes fell straight to yours "You are fucking loving this aren't you, the way I tease you and getting you all riled up. This is where it gets you." You gave him that don't you even think about it look and pulled him back down to you, he wasn't getting away with it this time.
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bullet-prooflove · 9 months
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Heyy girlie❤️👋🏾HAPPY NEW YEAR 🎉🥳 I have an ask for my crush right now Stuart Scola ☺️ I love how you are writing for him and making him into such a complex but lovable character! I can’t get enough of your writing for Detective Stuart Scola!!
My prompt is:#6-She tastes like the sunshine kissing me
I need some romance in 2024❤️
Can’t wait to see how you bring this to life ✍🏾👏🏾
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GoneGirl! Series:
Trouble at Home
Gone Girl
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It’s four months later that Stuart lays eyes on you. It’s a random act of chance. He isn’t even supposed to be in the club that night, but he’s been doing a lot of shit he’s not supposed to be lately. He’s fallen into old habits, the drink, the girls, the partying. He’s trying to chase away that feeling, the numbness that’s crept up inside of him.
He’s become attuned to your presence in the time you were together. He’d know you anywhere. When he sees you on the dance floor, you’re wearing a gold party dress that catches the light when you move. Your hair falls across your shoulders as you tip your head back and sway with the music. He’s had countless women in his bed since you and not one of them has made him feel the way he does in this moment.
When your eyes meet across the club, it’s like electric searing through his veins.
It feels like that first night, the one where he took you to bed.
You don’t speak when you join him at the bar and neither does he. He isn’t sure what the play is here because as far as he knows you’re still undercover, there could be eyes on you right now. His arm brushes against yours and he can feel the heat of your skin through his shirt. You tilt your head up towards him and his mouth goes dry because when he looks into your eyes, he knows your feelings for him haven’t changed. You’re just as in love with him as he is with you.
Your hand comes to rest on his, fingers interlacing. It’s a sign, he knows. That you’re still his despite everything that’s happened. When the bartender appears in front of him, he takes the black Amex out of his wallet and hands it to him.
“Private booth.” He says, his eyes never leaving yours.
The bartender knows exactly what he means, there’s a couple near the back with black sheer curtains, the kind that are meant for intimate liaisons. They’re paid for by the hour. That’s where Stuart leads you.
When he sits down on the plush velvet sofa, he pulls you down with him. You slip into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His fingertips trail along the hem of your dress as you lean in close, the scent of your perfume flooding his senses. It’s something dark and erotic, it sends a thrill chasing through him as his finger brush over the black lace of your underwear.
When your lips brush over his, it’s tender and sensual. Something inside of him just snaps, his world has been barren and bleak without you and suddenly he’s immersed in so much texture and colour.
It gets heated after that, his hand on the nape of your neck as his tongue delves into your mouth, his fingertips snagging on your panties, tugging them off. He tucks them into his pocket as your eager hands fumble with his belt.
He moans into your mouth as you sink down onto his cock, your tight, wet, heat encompassing him. His hands come to rest on your hips, his fingers tangling in the fabric of your dress, balling it up in his fists as he thrusts up into you.
You look so beautiful like this, so wild and untamed as you fuck him in a nightclub full of strangers.
“Look at me.” He whispers, his thumb chasing over the line of your jaw, guiding your gaze back to his. “You’ve ruined me for any other woman.”
It’s those words that tip you over the edge, the rawness in his voice. When you come, you take him with you, your molten core gripping him so tightly he has no choice but to surrender. His mouth covers yours and he drinks down your ecstasy like the finest wine.
In the aftermath he holds you close, his fingers combing through your hair as you tuck yourself against him. Around you the party continues but for the moment, there’s just the two of you existing in your own private bubble. It can’t last, he knows that, but God he wants it to.
“There’s no other man that compares to you.” You find yourself telling him. “I wanted to get over you so badly, I was so hurt, so angry…”
It’s a concession, one that he understands. You’re not the only one that’s fucked around, used sex as a way to cope. That’s the whole reason he’d come here tonight but the thing is, there is no getting over you. You’re it for him.
“You didn’t see him on that video Stuart.” You say softly and he hears the sadness in your tone as your fingertips trail over the buttons of his shirt.  “He killed Bradley and he laughed about it; it was nothing to him.”
“I know.” He whispers against your hairline. “I know that’s why you did this, why you had to take this assignment.”
You’re impulsive but you’re also intuitive. You'd had the unique opportunity to get ahead of the man who’d killed your partner, who’d hurt you because bombmakers were like arsonists, once they caught the bug they didn’t stop. Never in a million years would Stuart have let you go this deep and that’s the crux of this whole thing wasn’t it.
Stuart knows he should hate you for it, but it only makes him love you more because his girl, she’s brilliant. She’s found away to insinuate herself in his network, to catch him in the act.
When you come for the king, he thinks. You better not miss.
And you’re coming for Mad Bomber.
That son of a bitch doesn’t stand a chance.
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Tagging: @trublu2u @greenies-green @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @malindacath @yezzyyae @kmc1989 @thiashazzywriting @kmc1989 @noxytopy
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differentnighttale · 1 month
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Weilder's Introspection
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She was never going to be mine, I was never going to be hers, This thing we call love. I'll bottle it up. Throw it away.
Although I love you, I must toss it away. We were not going to be.
The lies,the prophecies and the responsibilities. Now we were adults, Not young once more.
Not filled with youth and happiness again.
You a queen. I ,a knight. Never to be hidden again. When young love birds loved in the shadows. We shan't hide again, Maturity is our cup, And I shall drink to my fill.
You a lady, I ,a man. A ruler of people and my heart, Queen of love and purity. I an ambassador of death and posion. I, a heir of evil, You the epitome of nature and light.
Made me loose reason, My initial goal to hurt you. Now I can't live without. All because of you.
When you a wild and untamable young one, Free as a bird, Wild in spirit, Yet caged in responsibility. Shrouded in pain. Heart ever craving. Drawn me to you.
I ,a man of hope. A man of freedom. Caged by thrones. Hurt by deceit. Locked in my heart. Threw away the ring of lust.
All the nights we shared, Running in the valley of our secret spot. Wild and carefree, The moonlight illuminated your skin. Your hair as white as snow, Your sun-kissed skin. Your ever youthful cheer
Now shedded and replaced Bare feet which floricked in the wet grass Those bare arms and skin were I trailed my lips across The wing of your collar bare Oh I missed thee
Now all I yearned to hold you tight Yearned  to kiss your lips And wrap my arms around that waist Admire your grooves,curves and imperfections Wipe your tears away Watch you in wonder Filled with love Puppy love Admire your soft summer dress Help you get ready A peck of Admiration On my pale cheek You Filled me with life and love And replaced it with pain and regret Ran my hands through your golden strands Inhale the smell of salt and flowers Oh I miss you
Now I pack the memories in a box Tucked it tight So when I'm sad and yearn a warm feeling I pull it out Smile then tuck it in Oh miss you
Now you're a queen Now I a knight Now I watch you from my foyer The eyes filled with sorrow The Colour's dulited The pity I feel The sharp  yearning to wipe it off
From friends to lovers We are we now From enemies to sharing secrets
But I shan't All love is loss But ill never stop loving you Tuck it away now
~A poem my Sébastien Wielder (an adult version of him about 30 remembering his first love and only love (we love our demi boy) and the nostalgia he feels○
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velvethopewrites · 11 months
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“I’m bi,” Dean confesses then, because most dudes don’t go for that. Not for more than a quick tumble in the sack anyway. Dean likes Castiel though, more so than quick tumble material.
“I figured,” says Castiel. “I wasn’t certain at first, as the décor in your room suggests a heavily heterosexual preference, but then I caught you staring at my dick like you wanted to be its best friend.”
Dean gulps. He’s still new to guys. Girls, he has no problem. If Cas were a chick, he’d know exactly what to do and to say, but Cas is not a chick. He is a dude, who smells like Dean’s shampoo and is wearing Dean’s clothes.
“I also lack a gender preference,” says Castiel then. “Or a sexual preference. You’re the only person who knows that, besides Balthazar.”
“Okay, who the fuck is Balthazar,” Dean finally asks. “Is everyone you know fresh off the bus from Jesus camp or what?”
“Balthazar was my roommate in freshman year,” Castiel explains, shutting his eyes against the harsh light of the TV. “He’s a good friend, though sometimes unreliable. Hence, dropping me at a bar without an exit strategy.”
“Sounds like a great guy,” Dean mutters. Castiel’s head lolls against his shoulder. “You taking another nap?”
Castiel hums against him and shifts so that his head is in Dean’s lap, the rest of his body curled up into a ball.
“Can you pet my hair?” Castiel asks.
Dean’s heart leaps.
“Uh, sure, Cas,” he nods and brings his fingers down to toy at the wet chunks of hair.
“And please don’t get an erection,” Castiel adds as an afterthought. “I’m really comfy right now.”
“I’ll try my damndest,” Dean swallows, and turns his attention back to Family Feud.
—An Untamed Youth by Chasingrabbits
This is why I love fanfic.
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zorkaya-moved · 6 months
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❛ i won’t let them kill you. i won’t let them even touch you. ❜ [ and i close my eyes and image yuuna gingerly holding zarina's face with crimson stained hands like you know ??? ]
@merotm
The scent of iron is nauseating to those who aren't used to it, but Zarina finds the scent of burned bodies and flesh far worse, or those who drowned. And so, the crimson staining Yuuna's hands do not cause her to step away or to look away, instead she concentrates on her lover's face and studies her expression. She is determined, radiant despite the blood staining her pretty, soft hands and her green eyes shining with such power that none would be the wiser to step between them. 
There is a moment when breathing stops for a second, the sticky blood comes in contact with her skin. It feels wet, a bit uncomfortable, but the warmth of Yuuna’s hands make her blink in surprise that she didn’t mind the sensation as much as she thought. If anything, it’d be a bitch to get off later, but maybe she can use this to drag her beloved to take a shower together to wash off the blood, relax together, and spend more time without interruptions. Her golden gaze softens at the words spoken by the blonde, understanding the severity within them as much as a blessed promise in the moment where blood is shed. 
This is loyalty and devotion. Will Yuuna allow the same worship of her from the side of the beast drowning in languor? Will she approve of her being obsessed with these words and remembering them for eternity? Zarina finds herself smiling at Yuuna despite the tense situation and despite the blood that colors her pale skin, matching the color of hair red lipstick yet still brighter. 
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“You look like the Queen of Hearts,” she chuckles, bringing her hand up to Yuuna’s and placing it on top of it. The blood smears, leaving a wet trace as she readjusts her lover’s palm. It feels warm. Some would say it feels sickly warm, but the winter maiden concentrates solely on the woman in front of her: the valkyrie, the warrior maiden, the goddess of ambitious future. “So fierce, my love, the Sun will be jealous of your heat.” 
How could she still look so blessed? With blood on her hands and clothes, with hair a mess and clothes disheveled after a fight. She could, Yuuna always could, and Zarina knows it all too well. Perhaps, by seeing this ‘imperfect’ appearance - she is far more beautiful than the pretend game of perfection. She may be acting to be liked, to be the heroine, but she looks much better like this. Untamed, powerful, intelligent, dangerous. There is no leash that can hold her and the gaze full of ichor shines with respect and appreciation over her. 
“I’m flattered. I have my own lady knight now,” her words are spoken with warmth despite the playful smile. “I love you, Yuuna, thank you.”
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say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn
Second time reading this wonderful story. Enjoyed it very, very much! Love getting both LZ and WY POVs and watching their relationship grow.
Quotes:
With Wei Ying he had to be particularly careful because there were so many things he wanted to be true. For a minute he’d thrilled to imagine Wei Ying saving a place for him every Saturday. Thinking of him. Wanting him there. He couldn’t afford to take that seriously; it would hurt too much to learn he’d been wrong.
Besides, making customers feel welcome and happy to be there was part of the barista’s job, and Wei Ying was very, very good at his job. He could appreciate it in that light: a skilled professional at work.
That settled, he returned to the next exam in his stack. The next time Wei Ying called out, “Am I right, Lan Zhan?” in the middle of a discussion with his coworker, Lan Wangji only raised his eyes briefly, causing Wei Ying to laugh and say “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop bothering you.”
He didn’t, of course. He rarely went more than ten minutes without calling out to Lan Wangji, or catching his eye and grinning, or stopping by his table to ask how his students were faring. “Are you a strict grader, Lan Zhan?” he’d asked once. “I bet you are, I bet you’re one of those teachers that has students bragging in the halls if they get higher than a B minus.”
“I try to give clear expectations and make consistent judgements,” he’d answered, and for some reason Wei Ying had beamed at him.
————
He struck polite off his mental whiteboard of Lan Zhan Traits and replaced it with ruthless. What is your real concern, like it was an obvious evasion and he wasn’t going to waste any more time on it.
In a different world, he could have loved him for it.
“Well, what’s yours?” he said, because if they weren’t going to make this easy they could at least make it fast. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.” Lan Zhan paused long enough for him to pace a tight circle twice. “Why did you leave?”
That wasn’t at all what he’d been bracing for. “Why did I — on Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“Uh. I wanted to go home, I — why are you asking that?”
“You saw us, and you left. My son was distressed. As you can imagine, he has experienced abandonment too often already. I would like to understand what caused it in this case.”
Oh my god. Oh my god. He sat down right on the floor, heavy, banging his tailbone. Abandonment, this was about... this wasn’t about what kind of role model he was or any attacks on his character, this was about Lan Zhan thinking he had abandoned A-Yuan. A-Yuan who had already lost his birth parents and a sister and at least one other caregiver and...
E, 68k
Summary:
“It’s okay that you miss him,” said Lan Wangji, a familiar litany to them both by now. “Do you feel sad?”
“I feel sad,” A-Yuan repeated, shoulders hitching with tiny hiccuping sniffs. “When is he coming back?”
“I don’t know. I am not sure where he is.”
But this seemed to frustrate A-Yuan. “Xian-gege! I miss him! Please, baba?” He looked up at him with wet cheeks and a wide, quivering frown. “Please baba can you ask him? I really miss him!” He sobbed again, heartbreakingly.
It stabbed straight through him, cracking open the reservoir of loss and helplessness that was all his own. His child’s grief did that, sometimes. It always took him by surprise. He caught his breath sharply and gathered A-Yuan into his arms, holding him tight until the pain ebbed.
“I will try,” he said softly into A-Yuan’s hair, when he could speak again. He never made uncertain promises and tried not even to raise uncertain hopes, but his son was hurting. His son believed he could make it better. He couldn’t not try.
Wen Qing might at least know who this “Xian-gege” was. He would text her in the morning. It would be a start.
@ginnymoonbeam
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hi hello 📥 ✏️ 🖊
📥 what's your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?
oh that's a tough one... honestly probably ligaments because i really pour my heart into that one. it's written in a very experimental style compared to the the third person POV & more straightforward narratives of my other fics, but it brings me so much joy to write it. and also i mean the comments on that tend to be from other big-time lilith fans & just some of the convos that u and i specifically have had in the comments section of ligaments were so incredible.
ligaments really brings me the most satisfaction when people *get* it, because i put so much of myself in that fic so it's really interesting to see people connect to the same things that matter a lot to me (and not just girls covered in blood but also the way that lilith feels so fiercely towards the world, how it renders her speechless, how love just unravels language and becomes something tender and untameable). yeah that's the one i think.
✏️ do you write every day?
yes! i write to relax so when i'm not working on my thesis i'm probably tucked away somewhere writing. i do still write original fiction (new novel idea crawled out of the primordial ooze this week rip me) and also my poetry, but recently it's been a lot of fic which i've really enjoyed. i don't have a strict schedule for writing or a set amount i have to write every day because my brain takes those kinds of things too seriously, but i tend to write about 1000 words every day, or a full poem which i consider equivalent to about that much (tho, i have been known to write 1k poems. rip my supervisors who are like... hey cas do you think you could write a short poem?)
🖊 post a snippet from a current WIP. has to be ligaments for u kei
ligaments 7
you wonder how it happened. a chaste kiss or something long and deliberate, beatrice lingering her tongue inside another mouth, swallowing each sound as if, that way, God might not hear it.
it is not difficult to imagine. you have after all watched this girl rip a bloody knife from inside a body, holding the blade aloft at a bad angle so the wet followed the pathway of her wrist and raced down her forearm like a tongue. you have watched her flick it off the ends of her fingers, splashing blood up onto her own face and wincing at the warmth.
you have stood with her fully clothed in a shower and scrubbed the various fluids of war out of her hair, feeling each bump in the topography of her skull. you can very easily imagine her pressing her body into another body, gripping brickwork to either side and rocking her hips forward.
but to imagine her without her scars and her silence and her little lips closed around the profanities that belong in her? this, you cannot do.
would she be an arachnologist? growing dusty and grey-haired in a laboratory full of the soft sounds of spider legs tapping on glass, shuffling around in cages. naming each of them in her eccentric way. picking their shed skeletons up out of their cages, totally unafraid.
she could be a physicist, you think, sometimes. when she will not shut up about the Higgs Boson particle, failing utterly to take offense when her papers - printed terribly off the rickety machine in the admin office - call it the God particle.
‘scientists don’t like it either, lilith. the arguments are very funny. either they say that it’s not as important as all that or they say that the beginning had nothing to do with god, so the comparison is irrelevant.’
‘and what do you think?’
‘i think it’s romantic.’ - you choked on your orange juice - ‘it’s an overstatement, certainly. but it’s beautiful. it explains why some particles break symmetry. it’s… it says that what might seem like an aberration is just another piece of what holds the universe together.’
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