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#hope u enjoy it nevertheless<3
sanriokamabodo · 1 year
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i think it would be cute if one of Douma's worshippers had a kid that was non verbal and can't communicate all that well. So, when it's their turn to talk to Douma, he and them just play board games to help them speak.
A/N: NO BECAUSE I LOVE THIS IDEA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
CW's: none, reader has loving parents, douma is really good at card games, not proofread bc i hate reading my own works heehoo, dm me if i missed a tag or if u want to confess ur undying love for me
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Your parents are lovely, really. They make sure your every need is met, they spoil you and always tell you how much they adore you.
There's however one thing that frustrates you to no end.
Your parents would beg for years to their lord in the hopes that one day you'll speak.
It's not like you were stupid, absolutely not. If only people would understand how clever you were.
Douma, being the kind person he is (he claimed that title himself) took it upon himself to "help" you.
That's how you ended up in his quarters. Your parents waved goodbye as they left and telling you to be good. You hated it when they treated you like a small child.
Your face had a sour expression as you looked at him. This was the guy who was supposed to "cure" you?
"I don't think we've met before, have we? I'm Douma, but I think you already know that." He jokingly winked at you. "What's your name, kid?" He tried.
Silence.
Douma points a finger at you. "Speak now and I won't tell anyone." He smirks.
Yet again, silence. You quirk his eyebrow at him. Was he really his stupid?
"I'm your lord y'know, it would be rude to just ignore me." Douma whines before throwing himself back against his mountain of pillows.
A smile grazed your lips. Normally you'd just be annoyed by these desperate attempts to get you to talk, however you never expected this side from your lord.
Douma stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up, he looked at you.
"Well we've got an hour to kill, what would you like to do?"
You shrugged.
"Would you like to play a card game?"
Your eyes lit up at the idea and nodded excitedly. You loved card games, better yet, you were undefeated at them. Douma looked excited at this opening.
He grabbed a stack of hanafuda cards and shuffled them before dealing them between the two of you. "Are you familiar with koi koi?" He asked.
You nodded, of course you knew what koi koi was. You were the best at it.
"Now, I will warn you that I'm really good at it, but I'll go easy on you, kid."
You snorted at him, making Douma cock an eyebrow at you an amused expression on his face.
"What was that? Are you doubting me? You know I won't let you go off the hook now, huh?" He laughed, shaking his head. You had guts, he liked that.
You beat him. Hard.
"I want a rematch." He demanded jokingly, despite his ego being bruised a bit.
He lost, again. And again. Until finally the time ran out.
"Same time, tomorrow?"
And so you did, everyday from that point on. He'd always make time out of his busy schedule for the two of you to play a quick game, despite getting his ass handed to him everytime.
Douma grew alongside you, he grew comfortable enough to not hide behind fake smiles and playful teasing, he was true to himself around you. He didn't feel like he'd have to fake feeling emotions around you.
"Thank you," you spoke hoarsely, barely above a whisper after months of playing cards with him "for making me feel normal."
Douma, not bothering to look up from his cards, almost like you spoke everyday, returned the sentiment. "Thank you for making me feel normal too, kid."
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ambivartence · 2 years
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♌️ & ♎️
commissioned by @lonelystreetlight for @chanstopher 🎂🥳🎁🎈
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suashii · 7 months
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manon! in celebration of yuta day—what do you find the cutest about yuta? can’t wait to read your fic for him a little bit later :>
signed, 🧸
nonnie ! ! i find so many things cute about yuta baby >\\\< his goofy little smile is one ! just look a him
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also, , it’s very cute & endearing how he cares so much about the people around him — i love his big ‘ole heart ! mm he’s just so very precious to me. . . my sleepy anxious boy awww :3
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eatfishies · 1 month
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Intoxicated By Your Sweet Taste 🔞
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summary: Zayne thinks he hasn’t given you much attention due to his work.
or
Pussy drunk! Zayne can’t get enough of you.
word count: 2k tags: NSFW, zayne x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, coming multiple times, domestic fluff at the end, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: as always, pls heed the tags ~ nevertheless, this fic was inspired by this twt here ! hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !
It was past midnight when the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking Zayne. She was already in bed, snuggled up with the plushies her dear lover got for her. Zayne smiled at the sight before striding towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
That action caused her to stir, fluttering her eyes open to look at her partner. “You’re back.” She mumbled sleepily.
Zayne gently stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, love.” He said as he continued to play with her hair.
“I’ll only sleep if you do too.” She replied, which earned her a small smile from Zayne.
Once he had finished showering, she couldn’t help but marvel at his chiseled chest, glistening with droplets of water, running down ever so slowly. She tore her eyes away, feeling a little bit flushed.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by her observant lover though as Zayne pointed out, “Weren’t you half awake earlier? It seems like you’ve got your attention elsewhere now.”
She didn’t even bother to attempt and deflate herself because it’s true. She is enjoying this view very much.
Just like that, she hoisted herself up and had her eyes solely on him. Desire and lust coursing through her veins. “Yeah… you’re not wrong. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”
A chuckle rumbled out of Zayne, a little surprised by her bold declaration, considering how sleepy she was earlier. “Ah, so that’s what caught your attention?”
Before she could even reply, Zayne is already making his way to the bed. Her eyes widened slightly as he pushed her down gently, making her gaze up at him.
“Have I neglected my darling? Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He spoke as his face inched closer. She felt her breath hitched in her throat as the pit of her stomach coiled with pure lust.
The words she wanted to say were caught up, speechless by the sudden mood change. She bit her lip, “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”
Thick, strong fingers found its way to cup her face, “Then I shall take it upon myself to satisfy you until all your needs are met.” Without any hesitation, Zayne closed the distance between them and passionately kissed her.
She gasped as his other hand went to grab her hips, keeping her firmly in place as his tongue explored her mouth. Every ounce of sleepiness she had in her quickly vanished, instantly replaced by a primal hunger for him. She needs, no, she yearned to be one with him. To feel him in every way possible.
“Don’t… hold back.” He murmured in between her lips before he moved to trail kisses down on her neck, eliciting moans and whimpers. She closed her eyes shut, taking in the pleasure she’s receiving as he continued to suck and bite on her neck, leaving behind marks.
It was just a pure coincidence that she decided to wear a nightgown but she’s thankful nevertheless since it gave Zayne easy access to slip his hand up and caress her soft skin, feeling her up. She can feel her pussy growing needier and wetter with each touch he makes.
She sucked in a deep breath when his fingers began to rub against her slick, “Someone’s excited.” Zayne remarked as he suddenly pulled his fingers away and moved down to crouch in between her legs.
Instinctively, she spread wide open, staring down at him. “So wet for me… you really want this, hm?” She nodded eagerly, “Please… I need it.”
The once impassive doctor morphed into something else entirely. His expression held a plethora of emotions behind them as he felt his own hardness beneath his towel. “Very well. Scream for me princess.”
Any sort of thoughts she conjured up turned into nothing the moment Zayne licked her drooling pussy. His tongue expertly flicked her clit as she laid back down on the bed and writhed in intense pleasure.
“F- fuck! Zayne… hghh!” She moaned out as Zayne lapped at her needy cunt, savoring all of her wetness, wanting to taste all of her.
Her hands immediately tugged onto his hair, pulling him closer to her crotch as she screamed out his name repeatedly. It was too good that she could barely keep still, Zayne held onto her thighs to stop her from squirming.
The familiar pit in her stomach intensified, itching her closer to release. “Hahh…! Z- Zayne! I’m close, I’m so close!” She whined out, to which he kept tonguing her entrance vigorously until she arched her back and came all over his face.
Zayne pulled away slightly and licked his lips. There are traces of pussy juice on his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when his precious sweetheart tastes so divine. Before she could even beg him to put his hard shaft inside her, she gasped once she felt Zayne’s tongue on her folds again.
“W- wait! I… I just came!” She exclaimed, feeling like her legs were gonna give out from pleasure. But Zayne paid no mind as he resumed his ministrations on her sopping wet cunt. Even after orgasming, her pussy still throbbed for more.
At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s on cloud nine, especially when Zayne sucked on her nub, making her tremble. Green eyes observing her movements, watching as she moans and whimpers. Looking beautiful like this, Zayne wanted to keep this memory etched into his mind forever.
It was unbearable, she tried to push him away but he kept a strong grip on her legs, his tongue relentlessly flicking her eager pussy, swallowing all of her juices. He can feel himself getting intoxicated by her dripping cunt. There is nothing more rewarding than coming home everyday and getting to lap at her entrance like a starved man whilst also relishing her delightful sounds.
“C- coming!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she came undone. Zayne lifted his head and spoke in a raspy voice, “Did you feel good, honey?”
There was no single coherent thought in her mind right now. She couldn’t even think properly, it’s all a muddled mess, too foggy with pleasure. Sensing her pliant demeanor, Zayne moved to her side, brushing off the strands of her hair from her face.
“You’re so good for me, dear.” Was the only thing she heard before Zayne trailed his fingers down to caress her inner thighs, igniting goosebumps all over. She weakly muttered, “What are you doing?” Instead of responding, Zayne leaned down and pecked her lips. “Are you a good girl for me?”
His finger easily slipped in her gaping pussy, thrusting it in and out, earning a mewl from her. She bit her lips, “T- too sensitive... Zayne…” She clutched onto his arm, looking at him with glassy eyes.
“I said, are you a good girl?” Zayne repeated his question but this time, he inserted another finger in, taking away all of her last resolve.
“Mhmm… ah! Yes! Yes!” That further drove Zayne to keep plunging his fingers deep inside her gummy walls.
It has been hours since Zayne has been pushing her far off into her limits. Sleep be damned as he is now lapping up at her loose, dripping cunt. She could only let out soft mewls and moans whenever he skillfully buried his head in between her thighs. No amount of protest could get him to stop. It’s like Zayne has been possessed by an insatiable lust demon or some sort, at least that’s what she thought.
Tears stained her cheeks as she stared at Zayne who was lazily eating her out. “Zayne… please…”
He gave her pussy one last lick before meeting her teary gaze, “Please what?”
“Please… fuck me…” She pleaded, her hands reaching out to pull him on top of her. “You’ve been torturing my pussy non-stop… I want to make you feel good too.”
“Ah, I see. So, my needy princess wants it that bad?” He spoke as he discarded his towel. It’s kind of amazing at how he managed to hold back his desire to mount her completely, especially since she looked ravishing like this. Blissed out and glowing from the amount of orgasm she lets out.
She nodded eagerly, “Give it to me, please? I’ve been so good.” To emphasize, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to close the gap between them and feel his body against hers.
“I guess someone deserves it, after all.” With ease, Zayne lined his cock on her entrance, sliding it in and immediately began to thrust.
While their love-making session was always tender, albeit sometimes a bit passionate, it was never really like this. Intense and unrelenting with vigor as Zayne continued to pound into her deep. Her cunt spasming and clenching tightly around his cock. “Fuck… you feel so wonderful around me, sweetheart.”
Even if she wanted to say something, each thrust made her eyes roll back. Her mind is running into an overdrive as Zayne picks up his pace, unfaltering and burning with the need to come inside her.
Noticing Zayne’s furrowed brows and his eyes closed shut, “Come for me. Come inside me, baby. Want you to breed me.” She spoke, her voice laced with urgency and desperation.
At last, Zayne thrusted inside her hard before stilling, heaving and burying his face in her neck. She smiled at him dazedly as she cards her fingers through his hair. When Zayne pulled out, he watched in fascination at how her cunt drooled with cum. The sight alone made him want to ravage her right then and there, but he knew, they both had to sleep.
So, instead, Zayne helped clean her up and cuddled her as they both drifted off to slumber.
Something was wet… and there were sounds of shuffling. When she woke up, her eyes widened as she saw Zayne languidly circling her clit with his tongue. “H- huh?” She uttered out, confused and yet, Zayne only mumbled out, “Lay back. Let me please you once more before I leave for work.”
How could she refuse when her lover had asked so sweetly? She did as he instructed and laid back down on the soft bed, letting him spread her wide open. At this point, she had lost track of how many times she came, especially from last night.
This time, Zayne made sure to take his time, flicking her folds ever so slowly. One part of her felt like he was torturing her but another part of her couldn’t help but preened at how good it feels when he’s savoring her like this.
The morning sun casted a soft glow around the room, making this even more enjoyable as she focused on Zayne, tasting every drop her cunt oozed, not letting any of it go to waste. The slurping sound reverberated across the walls as she flushed.
Despite coming so many times, the familiar pit in her stomach still lingered, coiling and intensifying as she neared her climax. “Hghh… Zayne… baby, I’m so close.” She meekly mewled out, her legs shaking. Zayne sucked on her nub and sneakily thrusted a finger into her cunt, scissoring her whilst he ate her out.
Just like that, it was enough to drive her to the edge. She came, hard on his face. Her vision blurs and she shuts her eyes closed, letting the euphoria wash over her.
She faintly heard Zayne uttering a soft, “I love you” to her before getting up and tucking her in bed.
The second time she woke up, she found that Zayne had already left for work. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There, she found a plate of breakfast ready made for her and a bouquet of flowers.
Her body was sore all over but this gesture made it all worth it. Smiling, she walked up to the table and picked up the bouquet, smelling the flowers before sitting down and stuffing the food, the tiredness fading away and was replaced by hunger.
Luckily for her, she had a day off today and was able to cozy up at home until Zayne comes back. He gave her a fond smile as he placed the bag on the coffee table, “I got you macarons from the cafe. What do you feel like having for dinner? Let me cook for you.”
Safe to say, she is indeed a lucky girl to be able to love and be with Zayne.
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illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 months
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can you write a fic where emily is on her period, annoyed at work, irritated, and really needy but is lowkey embarrassed to ask reader for relief? reader basically then calls her silly and tells em she loves her always and then helps her? and heavy smut takes place
(reader also works at the bau)
thank u!! - and no problem at all if u don’t feel like writing this <3
I got u, anon! ❤️ Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks
Touchy
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, graphic sex, fingering, afab body parts, menstruation, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.7k
Summary: You and Unit Chief Emily have had a secret thing going on for a while, but when she starts lashing out at you and the rest of the team, you suspect something's wrong. Turns out, it's something you are very capable of fixing. 😏
Emily sat hunched over a book that she clearly wasn’t reading, massaging her temples. She’d been touchy this whole trip. Touchy with the rest of the team, with local law enforcement. Thank god JJ was in charge of dealing with the press, or she would have been touchy with them, too. And now she was touchy on the jet.
Usually on the last night of a case, when the end was in sight or when you were headed home in the morning, or even on a night where she was frustrated that they hadn’t made progress, Emily would come to your room. She’d knock softly, in the dead of the night, slip into your room, into your bed, into your very body. And she’d be gone before your alarm went off in the morning.
You’d waited and waited last night for Emily to come to you, watching the minutes go by, then hours. You knew you hadn’t made any plans, nothing concrete. There was never anything concrete when the BAU was out on a case. But, nevertheless, you missed her. You missed the warmth of her body next to you, the way you’d talk and laugh about nothing while she sat in bed, naked, and smoked a cigarette after she’d thoroughly fucked your brains out. You missed the way she’d vent to you about the case or tell you something personal, something she wouldn’t tell anyone else, as you fell asleep together, tangled in some random hotel’s sheets.
You’d been seeing each other for months now and, outside of work, had some semblance of a typical relationship. But at work, you were just an agent and her unit chief. Friendly colleagues, at most. You and Emily were always careful to appear impartial. And you were profilers, so you were pretty good at avoiding tells that your relationship was more than it seemed on the outside. But you were worried about her today. She was angry and irritated and… not herself. You were trying to figure out a way to ask her what was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out how to move seats to be near her without arousing suspicion. Not to mention the fact that Emily would never tell another member of the team that something personal was going on. So she couldn’t tell you. Not here, not on the jet.
You tried not to look too interested when Reid sat down across from Emily, playing with the string on his sachet of green tea. “Are you okay, Emily?”
She made a noncommittal sound of affirmation, then muttered. “Just a headache.”
“You know,” he started, and you could just tell he was prepped for an educational monologue. “Headaches are simultaneously one of the easiest and one of the hardest medical maladies to solve, depending on their cause. There are over 50 reasons why one might have a headache, usually categorized into two overarching categories: primary and second–”
“Reid,” Emily snapped. “I am begging you to shut up unless you want to become one of the 50 causes of a headache.”
Reid shrank into himself, and you immediately felt sorry for him. Sure, he could come off as a know-it-all or annoying, but he was goodhearted and kind and smart and cared about the team. It wasn’t like Emily to belittle him.
When you’d all debarked from the plane and made your way to the parking lot, you waited for the other cars to peel out before approaching Emily’s. You tapped on her window and she rolled it down for you.
“What?” she growled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice full of concern. “You seem off.”
“I’m fine,” she stated. “God, I wish people would just fucking leave me alone today. And stop asking all these questions.”
You were taken aback, hurt. You weren’t “people.” You were, for all intents and purposes, her girlfriend, everywhere but at work.
“Well, um…” you stuttered, unsure how to proceed or respond. “Do you still want to come over tonight?” She almost always did the night after getting back from a case.
“Y/N,” she groaned, massaging her forehead. “No offense, babe, but what part of ‘I wish people would fucking leave me alone’ did you not get?”
You felt like crying, but you’d be damned if you were going to let Emily see it. “Whatever, Em.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
You watched Emily zoom out of the parking lot and, once she was gone, you let yourself cry. At least it wasn’t just you she was upset with; clearly she had it out for everyone right now. But still… Emily was usually different with you. She was softer around the edges, kind and thoughtful, a little bit silly. This wasn’t like her at all.
The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How fucking dare she blow you off like you were no one!? She’d been rude and dismissive and snappy and weird with everyone this whole trip and, dammit, she was not going to get away with being like that to you, too. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with the rest of you that had pissed her off. Either way, you were determined to figure it out. So when you sped out of the parking lot, teary and determined, you headed not to your apartment, but to Emily’s.
You knocked angrily on Emily’s door until she threw it open, looking as pissed as you’d ever seen her. “Y/N,” she said, frustration evident. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, pushing past her and into the apartment. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”
You poured yourself a glass from the open bottle of wine she had on the counter and took a sip. Emily stood across from you, still massaging her temples and looking generally annoyed.
“What, Y/N?” she groaned. “What do you want?”
You set your glass down so aggressively the wine sloshed a bit. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emily!?” you railed. “You’re being so mean and so… not yourself. Is something going on!?”
She sighed heavily and lowered herself into a chair and, for a moment, you thought she might cry. You surged toward her and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her face, softly, delicately, in case, as she had all day, she decided to pull away again.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” you said softly, your thumbs lightly tracing the circles under her eyes.
Emily leaned into your touch and you knew she was finally there, finally at a point where she’d stop fighting and let you in.
“I’ve got fucking fibroids…” she mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “And I’m on my period and… they’re always bad, but they just make it so much worse.”
“Em,” you sighed, letting her rest her head on your chest. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“It’s embarrassing…”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Periods aren’t embarrassing, honey. They’re just a part of life. A shitty part.”
When she didn’t answer and kept her head buried in your chest, you started playing with her hair. “What do you need, huh? What’ll make you feel better? Do you have pain meds? You want to take a bath? Lie down for a bit?”
Emily pulled back and looked away, shrinking into herself.
“Hey, don’t start that again,” you scolded, taking her hand.
“Babe, just tell me. What do you need, hmm?”
She mumbled something under her breath, so quiet that you couldn’t catch it.
“What?”
“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “But that’s not fair of me to ask.”
You smiled, relieved. This is what Emily had been so frustrated about!? You chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her head, her cheek, then sunk your lips into hers. You felt elated by the way she grasped your shirt, the way she pulled into you.
When you broke apart, she was breathless, her pupils blown, but she still looked so deeply embarrassed, almost ashamed.
“Come on,” you said gently, leading her by the hand toward the bathroom. “And to think this whole time you were just really fucking horny.”
You turned on the shower, made sure it was the right temperature, and started stripping your clothes off.
“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Emily asked, leaning against the bathroom counter.
You stared at her. “What do you mean what am I doing?”
She gestured at your now nude body, as you folded your clothes into a messy pile.
“I’m getting in the shower,” you explained. “And you’re getting in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you come.”
If possible, Emily’s face reddened even more. “Uh… no,” she protested. “No, no. Did you miss the part where I said I was on my period?”
You gestured toward the steaming shower. “Did you miss the part where we’re in the shower so it doesn’t matter?”
“It does matter,” she argued. “I don’t– I’ve never… It’ll be messy, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to–”
You stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “You’ve never had sex on your period?”
She looked at the ground. “I… I mean, I guess I’ve never been with someone who… wanted to.”
Your heart broke then, just for a moment. For sweet, needy, embarrassed Emily, hugging herself in the corner of the bathroom.
“Well,” you said, approaching her and slipping your hands under her shirt. She gasped as you bent to suck on her neck. “That’s their loss.” You lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, quickly taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She moaned and sank her fingers into your hair. “I can assure you that I…” And you planted a kiss on her chest. “Very much…” You gently unzipped her pants and placed a kiss there, just below her stomach. “Want to.”
Emily pulled you back up and kissed you hungrily, desperately, as she kicked off the rest of her clothes, pushing you into the shower so she could discreetly remove her tampon. You pressed her up against the cool tile, letting the warm water rush over you both. It’s not that you were normally rough with Emily or vice versa, but you were careful to be particularly gentle with her tonight, knowing that her body was sensitive and in pain.
You kissed Emily slowly, deeply, making your way down her neck, across her chest, tracing slow, indulgent circles around her nipples as she let her head rest back against the tile. You could feel her heart beating underneath your tongue and it drove you wild.
When you crouched to move lower, holding yourself steady against her thighs, she pulled you back up, eyes pleading with you. “Just your hands. Please.”
You brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you sure?” You smirked. “I really don’t mind getting messy.”
“I know,” she replied, still breathing heavily as your thumbs drew circles against her hips. “But I mind.”
“Whatever you want, honey,” you breathed into her ear as you ran your fingers through her warm folds.
Emily shuddered and pressed her head into your shoulder, bucking involuntarily into your hand. You let your thumb idle around her clit, slow and rhythmic and gentle, until you had her panting and whining against you.
“More,” she begged, and you happily obliged, softly pressing two fingers into her pulsing entrance. You picked up speed as she pressed into you, her breath high and hitched, with small noises of effort and pleasure echoing around the shower.
“Wait, stop,” she gasped, even as she thrust into you. You stilled your movements, and waited for her to tell you what she wanted. “I feel like I might collapse,” she gasped.
“In a good way or a bad way?” you asked, both of you giggling.
“A good way, but…”
“Here,” you said, moving her arms so they were wrapped around your neck and inching forward so that your thigh was between her legs. You wrapped your free hand around her waist and planted a kiss on her neck. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go, baby.”
Emily didn’t need any more encouragement, riding your fingers as if her very life depended on it. And when she finally reached her peak, when she finally let herself fall apart, nothing in the world could have made you let go of her. You held her up as she shook, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her mouth wide and warm against your shoulder.
“There you go,” you whispered, bringing her back down and planting fluttery kisses wherever you could reach as you held her steady. She shook against you, holding onto you, and when she finally found her way back to her feet, you kissed her again and again, all over.
“Feel better?” you asked her, cupping her face in your hands. She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace and, for a while, you just held her there, hot water pouring over you, heartbeats dwindling back to a normal rate.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice vibrating against your skin. She stood and looked at you apologetically. “Sorry I was such a bitch.”
You shook your head and kissed her again. “It’s okay. Everyone’s a bitch on their period.”
Your heart was in your throat as Emily let you wash her, let you lather shampoo into her hair and rub soap gently across her body, making sure she was clean and cared for. She was so soft under your touch, so soft and pliable, such a contrast to how she was at work with everyone else. She always acted so tough. And she was tough, but she could also be so soft. You loved that she was soft for you.
You dried her off, you kissed her shoulder, you told her to go ahead and get in bed, that’d you’d be right there. And when you returned and found her in bed with wet hair in an oversized t-shirt, you were struck by the realization that you never really wanted to go to bed with anyone else. That what you’d really like is to be in bed with Emily every night. Not just random nights on the road. Not just after the dates you spent at places you chose because it didn’t seem like any other member of your team would be there. You loved her. You were falling in love with her.
You handed her the glass of water you’d prepared in the kitchen, and thought about how not to accidentally tell her you loved her. She sipped gingerly at the edge of the bed and looked deeply at you.
“What?” you asked, shrinking under her gaze.
“Do you want to stay here?” she asked.
“Duh,” you replied, already climbing into bed next to her. “I always spend the night after. And we don’t have work tomorrow.”
“No, I mean…” She picked at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “Do you want to stay here… for good. Like, would you want to move in?”
You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. “Are you serious?” you asked, gaping at her.
Emily shook her head. “Forget it. Sorry. It was a stupid question.”
“No, no!” You grabbed her hand and held it between both of hers. “I just… I didn’t know what this was for you. If you wanted to… keep it casual, I guess.”
She sighed and looked into your eyes and you knew then, you knew that whenever it slipped out, whenever you were ready to say it, she would say it back. “I haven’t been casual about you for a while now, Y/N.”
And you kissed her. You kissed her again and again, kissed her until she was giggling and squirming, until you had her wrapped in your arms under the covers.
And when she reached to turn the light out, when she curled into your body, you let your words venture out in the darkness, soft and quiet, almost imperceptible: “I love you.”
And like a light, her voice, vibrating against your skin as she fell asleep in your arms: “I love you, too.”
537 notes · View notes
sicbaby · 1 year
Text
Keep Quiet
ethan landry x fem!reader
contents: 18+ smut, established relationship, subby!virgin!ethan, dom!reader, handjob, public (kinda?) sex
authors note: hi!! this is my first time posting smut publicly so i’m nervous… i’m also hella rusty with writing so i hope it’s not too bad lol. hope u guys like it!! <3
It was movie night tonight at Sam and Tara’s. The whole gang would be there, except for Sam and Danny, as they had chosen to go out on a date. You had just started dating Ethan a few months prior to now, upon meeting him at the beginning of the school year when Chad introduced the two of you. He was the perfect boyfriend. smart, tall, handsome.., a bit awkward, but you loved that about him.
Everyone was sleeping over that night, and you decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to finally make a move on Ethan. He’s a virgin, and although you two are a couple, he still gets super nervous around you and definitely isn’t confident enough to make the first move. You think it’s cute, though. He’d do anything for you.
Movie night was just beginning a little after 8 pm on a cold and windy Friday night. Chad and Tara were putting together snacks in the kitchen, Mindy and Anika were at the dinner table, and you and Ethan were sat on the couch. Soon enough, the other couples had joined you in the living room. Mindy and Anika took their place all the way at the other end of the couch, while Tara and Chad opted for the floor. This left you and Ethan in a secluded corner far away from the other couples. perfect, you thought.
Tara was picking the movie tonight, and she put on the horror movie, It Follows. you silently roll your eyes at your best friend. You’ve seen this movie countless times… so you knew you were going to get bored, quickly. Nevertheless, you watched silently as Tara turned off all of the lights in the apartment, leaving the TV as the only source of light. You snuggled up to Ethan, his arm wrapped around the back of the couch, around your shoulders. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he smiles at you sweetly before turning his attention back to the TV.
It’s about 20 minutes into the movie when you really start getting bored. You let out a loud sigh, though it doesn’t catch Ethan’s attention. You and Ethan are covered by a blanket, and an idea pops into your head. Something that will surely reverse your boredom. You place your small hand on Ethan’s thigh, a little higher than normal. This catches his attention.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice a quiet whisper.
“Mhm!” You hum back, happily.
He just smiles at you and returns back to the movie.
You have a devilish grin on your face as you start slowing caressing Ethan’s thigh. Ethan’s breathing speeds up slightly, and his eyes dart to where your hand would be under the blanket for only a moment before he turns back to the movie. He leans against you a little more, and pulls you closer. He smiles again.
“What? Not enjoying the movie?” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.
This seems to rile you up a bit, seeing how innocent your boyfriend was, and how close he had gotten to you. You just smile back at him, and scoot even closer, if possible, your fingers now beginning to crawl up towards his clothed crotch.
Ethan’s breathing accelerates again with every passing second, but he says nothing about it. His heart speeds up as he senses your hand getting closer and closer, and he feels his face burning red with embarrassment. He blushes as his breathing gets heavier yet, his eyes fixed to the screen. His lips brush against the top of your head as he breathes heavily.
You reach the top of his thigh, staying there for a moment, before boldly cupping his hard dick with your entire hand. Ethan gasps and shifts in his seat with a shocked expression.
“What… what are you doing?” he whispers.
“You can’t- we can’t-… do this right now…” He blushes brightly, pulling his hands up to cover his face in embarrassment and shyness.
“Maybe later… we can…” He blushes even further than before. He can’t bring himself to say it, but it’s very clear what he’s implying.
“Oh. Well, why not now? Aren’t you in the mood, baby?” you whisper. “It Follows doesn’t turn you on?” You tease.
Ethan lets out a breathy laugh. He doesn’t seem upset by your teasing. “I mean… it has its moments…” He blushes again, his eyes still fixed to the screen. “Not that I need to tell you about that kind of stuff, right?” He glances at you from out of the corner of his eye again, growing nervous. “Maybe that’s what I’ll do tonight…” He mutters, “You know, when the- when the movie is over…” Ethan implies that he doesn’t want you to continue your sinful actions in front of your friends, but that won’t stop you.
“Yeah, let’s do that. but for now I wanna have my fun…” you whisper. At that, you remove your hand from his hard on and slowly unzip his jeans with your index finger.
“Are you… are you gonna do what I think you’re going to do?” He says sheepishly, a slight nervous laugh escaping his lips. His face is still bright red, and he can feel how hot and hard he is right now.
“Hmm?” You hum back, playing dumb.
“…Do you want to do… that?” He whispers, a dumbfounded look on his face. He looks back at you, in a trance. He couldn’t believe it. Yes, you’re his girlfriend, but you’re also the hottest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.. and you? You! You wanted to jerk him off, right then and there? He was in heaven. As he looks into your eyes for a moment, he watches you nod.
“You do?” He says excitedly, sounding incredibly sincere as his heart races.
You giggle at how eager he is, but stop yourself for a second.
“You have to promise to be quiet, though, baby. You don’t want them to hear us, do you?” You nod to where your friends are sitting, looking deep into Ethan’s puppy dog eyes.
“Yeah... that’s right.” He gets serious, but you can see in his eyes how excited he is.. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it quiet.” He says quietly, pulling himself a little closer.
After fully unzipping his jeans, you place your hand over his boxers, feeling him for just a moment. Ethan’s breath hitches at your touch, feeling more of you due to the thin layer left over his cock. His eyes start to roll back in his head, and you barely even touched him yet.
“O-Oh shit…” He says quietly, barely audible over the loud movie. He lets out a soft moan, biting his lip as he tries to contain his excitement.
You giggle again. “Shhh, baby.” You whisper as you start moving your fingers over his clothed dick, feeling his length.
Ethan tries not to make any noise, but he keeps letting out soft, barely audible noises, his body burning red. His entire body is tensing up, and he can feel how painfully hard he is. “Mm…” He moans quietly. You quickly shoot him a warning glance.
“I can’t help it, I’m sorry…” He says sheepishly.
You ignore his moaning this time, and gasp as you feel a wet spot on his boxers.
“Look at that… so wet already. That’s so cute.” You tease him.
“S-Shut up!” He mutters under his breath, desperation growing on his face. “S-Stop teasing me!” His words are shaky with anticipation, and he starts rocking in his seat, trying to create some friction against your hand.
It feels good for him at first, and then you stop moving your hand altogether, which causes Ethan to really work for his pleasure now. His breath hitches again, and he whimpers louder than he meant to. He looks over at you, worried. He catches you smiling at him mischievously.
“You’re so… mean..” he whispers, biting his lip to try and stifle his moan. “Please..” He begins to beg.
You start to feel bad for the poor boy. You didn’t want to tease him too much, knowing that this is the first time anyone other than himself has touched him like this. So, you reach into the hole in his boxers and pull out his long, hard cock. You can’t see it under the blanket, but you can feel the veins running up and down his length, making you grow wet just by touching him. You start to slowly move your hand up and down his hard cock, finally giving him the pleasure he was so desperate for.
“Oh…” His voice is weak, and he can feel the heat building inside him. ”Oh, that feels so…good.” He whimpers again as actual tears begin to form in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s completely distracted by what’s happening.
You want to please him so bad at this point, but you can’t help but tease him one last time. You reach the tip of his cock and give it a hard squeeze.
Ethan jumps and bites his lip, trying to hide a loud moan but ultimately failing.
“W-What was that for!?... You’re so mean…” He says again, more tears threatening to slip out. He looks down at his hands, which were shaking slightly from what was happening. “Please… we’re going to get caught!” He begs quietly, glancing around. He takes in a deep breath to try and steady himself. “I-I don’t know if I can keep quiet…”
You giggle even more, you really are evil.
“Well you’re gonna have to keep quiet. ‘Cause I want you to cum… right here, right now.”
Ethan takes a deep breath, his face turning bright red. You start to stroke him again, a little bit faster, spreading his wetness all over his long cock.
“M-mm…” This makes his breathing become heavy again, his heart racing at an incredible pace. He takes in another long breath. For a moment, he wonders whether he should tell you to stop for good. Instead, he lets out a soft moan. “Please…” He doesn’t even know what’s he’s begging for at this point.
You continue stroking him fast and hard, paying extra attention to his swollen head, squeezing it every now and then.
Ethan lets out a soft cry this time, his breath shaking. His eyes are rolled back in his head. He can feel his mind starting to go blank, and his vision starts to grow fuzzy.
“Oh, y/n…” He mutters.
“Yes, baby?” you respond back.
Ethan’s heart is beating out of his chest. He tries and fails to form words. He bites his bottom lip in anticipation, unable to express anything except soft moans in response, his face burning bright red.
As he is unable to respond, you assume he must be close to reaching his high.
“Are you close, e?”
The words catch in his throat, but he nods quietly. “Yeah…” He whines silently, his body shaking even more. His breath grows heavier.
“Oh, god… keep going… please…” He whispers, his voice barely audible. He tries once again to steady himself, but fails.
“Come on sweet boy, cum for me. Cum all over my hand, e.” You urge him on, keeping a steady, fast pace.
Ethan shakes his head, tears starting to form in his eyes again.
“N-no… I can’t…” He mutters silently, changing his mind once he realizes he won’t be able to keep quiet once he reaches his orgasm, it feels too good now… his face is burning bright red in embarrassment. He looks down from the ceiling, his breathing getting louder and the heat building until he’s practically shaking.
“I-I... I... I can’t…” He says, a small whine escaping his lips. “I can’t do it... not now…” He mutters, biting his lip. “Later, though. I promise…” He mutters again, wiping away his tears. “Not now…”
You don’t know how nobody has noticed a crying, shaking Ethan on the other side of the couch, but if you two have gotten this far, you sure as hell aren’t stopping now. You grit your teeth a little, starting to squeeze his cock even harder.
“Yes, now!” you whisper-yell.
Ethan gasps, his hands balling up into fists as his breathing is uncontrollable.
“You-you have to stop…” He says quietly this time, his head rolling all over the place.
“I-I can’t hold it in…” He begs, his muscles shaking from the effort.
“Please, y/n… I can’t do it…” He whines, a pleading tone to his voice.
“Stop…” He whines, his face bright red. “I can’t..” His voice breaks slightly.
You feel bad again as tears start to stream down his face. Your poor boy, it’s way too much for him, but you know he’ll feel so good once he finally releases.
“Let go, baby… Come on… Let go for me, sweet boy. Don’t you wanna make me happy?” You pout.
Ethan’s eyes fix onto you, a look of absolute terror in his eyes.
“Y-Yes! Yes, I do…” He practically yells, the panic very visibly evident in his voice. He wants to be a good boy for you. His hands are shaking, and the heat is building up inside him. A soft whimper escapes his lips, and he can feel himself losing control.
“I…” He whines, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks, his entire body tensing up.
“I think I... I think I’m gonna…” He mutters, his face burning bright red.
Suddenly, hot spurts of cum shoot out of his poor, aching and abused cock. Little whimpers and moans fall from his pretty pink lips uncontrollably.
“Nghh- Fuck…. Holy shit… Haa…” You watch his face contort in pleasure and continue stroking him through his high, a lot slower now.
“Good boy…” You say once he slowly comes down, knowing he can hear you properly now.
Ethan’s face is bright red, and he lets out an astonished groan. His head slumps down in embarrassment, and he takes a few deep breaths. He shakes a little as he tries to calm himself.
“Oh, my god… that felt incredible…” He whispers, his heart rate starting to slow down.
“Thank you…” He mutters, resting his head against your shoulder. His face is still red, but he looks a little bit more calm than he did a moment ago.
“How… how can I ever repay you?”
You smile, thinking it’s sweet that he immediately thought of you and your pleasure.
“You can repay me later, sweet boy.” You say as you remove your hand from his now soft cock. You bring your hand to your face, and lick his spent off of your fingers.
Ethan’s eyes grow wide when he sees you licking your fingers and he gasps. He waits until you’re done before speaking again.
“I… I uh… I can’t believe you just did that…” He says sheepish, blushing brightly. “You’re disgusting…” He says, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. He laughs again.
“And evil…” He mutters with a grin.
“I can’t wait to see what else you’ll make me do…” He whispers, biting his lip, the poor boy got hard again just by seeing you lick his cum off of your fingers.
“Oh… just you wait, baby.”
2K notes · View notes
cheolhub · 2 years
Text
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LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐
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summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.
wc. 2.3k
warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+
note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy
p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3
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how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him. 
you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever. 
then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner. 
he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.
now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.
seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself. 
so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”
you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.
“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”
you mumble, “i-i do.” 
he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”
he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.
“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter. 
he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”
you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever. 
“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable. 
“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you. 
you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…” 
he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?” 
you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…” 
he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?
“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”
your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”
“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face. 
you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction. 
“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”
you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.” 
your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again. 
“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them. 
you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”
“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.
you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family. 
admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.
“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”
you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle. 
seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?” 
“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure. 
and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father. 
who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?
he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.
and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears. 
his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you. 
the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble. 
he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling. 
“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”
his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.
your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms. 
he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does. 
“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit. 
he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. 
your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever. 
“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.
he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.
“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”
you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well. 
his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably. 
“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.
it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.
you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.  
“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you. 
as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.
“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”
you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”
he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”
you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly. 
he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.
“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.” 
“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”
you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”
his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”
you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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kquil · 6 months
Text
POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS
+ MOODBOARD IMAGINES
SET. : in between chapter 3 and chapter 4
LENGTH : 3.4k
A/N : do you darlings remember this (↓) moodboard? well, i thought it would be a good idea to write the scenarios i featured in it just cause... hehe~ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope you darlings enjoy the read!
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On his break, Sirius has a routine, one that involves lighting a cigarette. Usually he would have the decency to step outside but his schedule was stressful for the day and all he really wanted to do was just sit by an open window, slumped into a chair smoking his cigarette until there was nothing left to smoke. Thankfully the rest of the work day wasn’t going to be as packed so he could finally start taking it easy. 
Grey eyes drifting over to the clock on the wall, Sirius hums thoughtfully. Almost lunch time. He’ll need to cut his smoke break short if he wants to have enough time for a decent lunch. It’s another ritualistic practice for him to not pack anything for lunch; he was a horrible cook and usually prioritises sleeping in over eating breakfast and preparing a lunch, it’s the same for James and Remus too. Thankfully there’s a pretty good fish and chip shop down the street. Or maybe he could get a medium pizza for himself at the pizza local place? Maybe get a large pizza for the whole group? 
Propping his ankle up onto his opposite knee, Sirius drags a slow breath in and waits a moment before releasing the smoke. He tries to aim the fumes out the window as much as possible but the air is a fickle thing and stubbornly lingered around him. Nevertheless, he takes the time to admire the swirling fumes, artistic and free to take any form they so pleased. It was one of the small pleasures in smoking that he could bask in. 
“Siri–!” Sirius promptly snaps out of his daze with your call and the opening of the break room door. One step into the room and you were already having a coughing fit. Hurrying to stand, Sirius smothers his cigarette in an ashtray and reaches for a nearby folder of generic designs to fan the smoke out of the open window. 
“You okay there, sweets?” he calls, brows furrowed into a concerned crease as he watches your struggle for air slowly calm. 
“I-I’m okay,” another slight cough slips past your lips despite the assurance, “sorry for disturbing you,” as most of the smoke escapes the room, pliant to Sirius’ frenetic fanning, you manage a small smile that he shyly returns, ashamed of his inconsiderate actions. Though he truly didn’t anticipate you returning to the shop. His shame doesn’t linger for long, however as he keeps the window open and makes his way over with open arms, pulling you into an embrace. 
“What a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here, Doll?” he looks down at you, admiring your sweet face as it scrunches up in slight distaste and his heart drops. What’s upset his sweetheart? 
“Y-you smell like cigarettes…” you utter without a single thought and immediately clasp your hands over your mouth, muffling a gasp of realisation. That was so rude!
“Shit–”
“I-I’m so sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean to be ru–” but your apology was cut short when the tattoo artist steps away and begins pulling his shirt over his head and hurries about the room, looking for something.
“Sorry about that, Princess,” he gives up on his search and turns to you with a bashful smile, his toned torso and idiosyncratic tattoos on full display. Your mind goes completely blank as you admire the chiselled contours of his muscles and the beautiful tattoos that decorate his skin.
“U-uhh…” 
“I guess I’ll have to ask James if he has a spare shirt or something…” muttering to himself, Sirius looks up and finally catches your eye, immediately noticing your admiring gaze. Naturally, a devilish smirk tugs at his lips, “or not~”
He has the face of an angel and the body of a jock with the eyes and lips of a demon. 
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Over time, you’ve come to visit the boys at their parlour more often and the guilt of distracting them from their work has chewed away at you. They were always quick to say that they adore having you around the parlour so your discouragement quickly dissipates. Nevertheless, you wanted to do good by them and started going on snack duties, not only to provide refreshments for them but also for their clients. 
As a group and as a business, they agreed it would be a good investment to provide complimentary food and drink for their clients and themselves; getting tattoos was just as exhausting as giving them, especially for the big order clients. Therefore each room was fitted with a mini fridge and basket to host an array of snacks and beverages for anyone to have as they pleased. 
The accumulated bill cost a pretty penny but one that the boys were willing to pay, they even managed to strike a deal with the vegan specialty store across the street to provide their best snacks for customers as a form of free advertising. It warmed your heart but it didn’t come close to the butterflies you felt when you found that the boys were first attracted to the shop for their regular donations to a local dog shelter. 
You just came back from your trip over to help restock the fridges and snack baskets in each room. Remus was manning the front desk and handling clients and prospective customers. There was a stack of paperwork piled up next to him so he could multitask and stay preoccupied when there was a lull in business. 
Meanwhile, Sirius was tending to a client and their massive back tattoo. You remember him telling you that this was just their second session and that he still had one or two more sessions left to go. You managed to slip in and out of the room without distracting him or his client too much; both were very busy, except for the emotional-support friend the client had brought along, who appreciated the restock of snacks and raided the stash even as you were restocking. The two of you giggled at that together as Sirius chuckled under his breath, shouting an appreciative ‘thank you’ while his client grumbled playfully, apologetic about their glutton of a friend. Their interaction made you giggle while slipping out the door and making your way to James' room - you don’t believe he’s with a client right now so you weren’t as anxious over potentially disturbing his flow. Though he was expecting one to arrive soon, according to his calendar. 
“Snacks restock,” you call through the door with a knock before stepping inside. 
“Thanks, angel,” James was in an all-black attire today. Black jeans, heavy leather Doc Martens and a black, compression shirt that accentuated his slim waist, broad shoulders and sculpted muscles. That along with his black latex gloves and the beautiful collage of tattoos weaving up his forearms stops you in place. It’s undeniable how attractive these men are but, as James sits in his artist chair, posture relaxed but oozing with confidence, dressed like sin with his boyish grin and adorable round glasses on, an antithesis to his dangerous attire, you stop in your tracks and stutter embarrassingly. It has to be illegal how divine he looks right now…
Using the wheels and mobility of his artist chair, James moves to sit before you as he examines the contents of your bag through the opening at the top and mutters about which ones he’s eyeing for himself. However, your stock-still, frozen figure doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s soon staring up at you. His hazel eyes shine with curiosity and thinly veiled mischief. 
“Something wrong, Angel?” the pleasant drawl of his voice draws you from your obvious daydreaming and you’re stuttering out a pathetic, incoherent answer as he chuckles quietly, “Have you fallen for me?~”
The fucking tease! 
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It’s a hot summer day and Remus was sweating buckets up in the office. The heat was torturous and he silently begged for the winter cold to rush back with an icy fever, his desperation for a cool breeze evident in his dishevelled state. 
It was common for James and Sirius to go around topless in their shameless, over-confident ways but Remus was stubborn about keeping a shirt on. They had been warned about the rising heat thanks to earlier weather warnings but preparing with a breezy linen button up wasn’t enough for Remus to keep to his strict dress code. For once, you were seeing him half-naked (almost) and like you were with Sirius and James the first time they surrendered to the heat, you stood in shock as an additional heat tormented your cheeks. 
You didn’t know what to expect. 
Clearly James was the muscular one of the three, Sirius was skinny but it didn’t mean he didn’t have any muscle – his arms and abs were especially defined, his thighs too, probably from his motorcycle. Remus was tall so, as the stereotype went, you didn’t expect him to have much muscle definition. However, as he laid back in his seat, his linen shirt unbuttoned but still tucked into his trousers and draped over his broad shoulders, you’re able to observe significant definition in his chest and the ridges of washboard-abs along his torso. Your eyes almost bulge out when you see the cuts of a V leading into his crotch area.  
Remus despaired over feeling like a sweat-drenched dog, foul-smelling and unsightly with clumpy, sweaty hair when, in actuality, he couldn’t look better. Ths sweat made his skin glisten and helped keep his hair pushed back in the most attractive way. With his head slumped backward, his adam’s apple prominent, his tattoos on full display along the toned expanse of his torso, Remus looked heavenly. Especially with the sun shine pouring in from the open window and showering him in specs of gold. 
So caught up in your silent admiration, you don’t notice when Remus peeks one eye open and spots you with a soft smile. 
“You alright there, Dove?” he asks, chuckling as he sees the exact moment you were brought back to the present, “I see you’ve gotten my water for me,”
“Oh! Y-yeah,” you shyly walk up to him and hand over the chilled bottle of water from the mini fridge downstairs. 
“You really are an angel,” he accepts the bottle and kisses the knuckles of your hand in thanks before taking a thirsty gulp. His sweet action of gratitude makes you want to squeal out loud but you bite your lip, not wanting to expose yourself. It was already embarrassing enough having to be caught staring. 
It was then, however, that you took notice of a small, faded tattoo that didn’t match the gallery of inky art collaging Remus’ torso, “That tattoo looks different,” you say without thinking as you point towards the slightly faded crescent moon on Remus’ chest. 
“Oh!” Remus chuckles and caresses his inked skin gently, fondness swimming in his chocolate-pool eyes, “This one is quite special actually,”
“Really?”
He nods and launches into the story when observing the curious look in your eyes, “When the guys and I finally graduated secondary school, we all got drunk off our asses and went to a hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlour to commemorate the occasion,” you both share a laugh at their reckless but typical behaviour as teenagers, “each of us got a silly little tattoo and the next day, when we were hungover, half-naked in James’ room – James on the floor, Sirius in the bathtub of his ensuite and me leaning against his bookcase, nobody on the bed –” you both laugh again, “we all found out we got different tattoos and from that, came our nicknames,”
You brows raise in interest, “You mean–”  
“I have a moon so I’m ‘Moony’,” Remus confirms as your eyes sparkle with delight, a sight that Remus adores more than he’d ever admit aloud, “Sirius got a dog paw–”
“So that’s why you call him ‘Padfoot’, makes sense. What about James?”
“A stag head so he’s–”
“Prongs!” you cheer and giggle at finally discovering the reason behind their peculiar nicknames. It all made so much more sense now! 
“My Angel calls for me?~” James’ voice sings through the door before he’s sauntering in and opening his arms, expecting you to fall willingly into them. It was tempting, considering he was shirtless and you’d love nothing more than to be held against his muscles but today was already swelteringly hot so you politely decline, to which smug expression James’ drops into that of a pitiful puppy’s. 
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It’s not a secret that the boys adore you, not only were you kind and sweet and the prettiest little thing they’ve ever laid their eyes on but you also cook like an absolute angel and they can never get enough, especially when compared to their own mediocre cooking skills. After being spoiled by you so often, they can no longer fathom eating their own inferior cuisine. They’ve expressed this to you multiple times so, whenever you could, you would cook dinner for them and you’d all eat together at their flat. It usually happened over the weekend and they always offered to pay for the ingredients needed. 
Tonight, you had something special in mind to cook for them but weren’t well stocked on ingredients so it was agreed that Sirius would pick you up on his bike when you were finished shopping at the store. You made sure to text the tattooist a predicted time for when you would be finished with your shopping, remaining faithful to your shopping list so that you didn’t keep him waiting too long out in the overcast, chilly weather. Typical England.  
Hurrying to get past self check out, you smile at the singular bag of ingredients you held in your hand, excited to spoil the boys with another night of good food. You aren’t shy in admitting how attractive Sirius was but it was unfair how sultry he looked when on his bike, wearing his all-black, leather outfit, his huge helmet and fingerless gloves. The many eyes eating him up were evidence enough of his ethereal beauty. And with his helmet on too. Perhaps it was the mystery of who he was behind the mask that these strangers fawned over him so much. You couldn’t fault them though, you would be the same in their shoes.
Having made this trip multiple times already, you recognised him and his bike in an instant.. Behind the visor of his helmet, Sirius suppresses an affectionate coo over how you visibly perk up when your eyes land on him. There was no need for sun when Sirius had your smile to light up his day. 
“You good, Doll?” Sirius’ voice comes out muffled by his helmet as he dismounts his bike and opens up the storage compartment under the seat. He exchanges the spare helmet stored in the hidden compartment for the bag of groceries in your hand, “You got everything?”  
“Yeah, thanks for waiting, Siri!”
You don’t see it but he smiles happily at the sound of your twinkling voice, “No worries, Doll,” he mounts the bike once more and takes it off it’s stand, “hop on,” 
At this point, he expected you to be able to put your helmet on by yourself but he doesn’t account for the slight delay as you make sure it’s fitted over your head properly. Unable to help himself, Sirius waits leaning forward with his hand propping his head up as his elbow rests on the body of his bike. The stance makes him look as though he was admiring you like some lovestruck, teenage boy. When you catch sight of him after finally getting your helmet on, you laugh and throw your head back with the movement but end with placing your hands on your hips - scolding his actions, almost, although it was all in good fun. His response was to blow you a kiss by, first, touching his fingers to the front of his helmet and then laying his hand flat towards you. 
You clutch at your stomach to contain the giggles as your shoulders shake before finally deciding to play along and return the gesture, imitating a flying kiss that he catches and holds to his chest. Whenever the helmet was put on, the two of you always got into the habit of exaggerating your movements seeing as your facial expressions were obscured. But that mask gives you two such confidence that you’re more comfortable with being flirtatious with each other. 
You don’t complain but it makes your heart thump with want and a desire you were too afraid to fulfil. 
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“Sirius loves his bike,” Remus explains, “and James loves his car,” both men were too distracted taking maintenance of their respective vehicles to listen to Remus’ explanation of their attentiveness. It was the weekend and you had arranged to have Remus keep you accountable for completing your upcoming essay. At some point, you two join James and Sirius in the garage as they do the regular checks of their beloved ‘rides’. Their vigilant focus as they mill about the engines and operations of their car and bike were a great motivator for completing your essay and now that you’ve finished, you observe them in their element. 
Both men had their muscular, tattooed arms on full display, clad in only their tight tank tops, ones that already had stains to begin with so they didn’t mind staining more as their fingers blackened with motor residue.  
“What do you love, Remus?” you ponder, needing a distraction from the beguiling display before you but also curious. Did Remus have a secret love for a particular motor vehicle like the other two as well? You were beyond curious, although you couldn’t think of any other motor vehicle he would likely obsess over. 
“Can’t say,” the tall brunette shrugs, subtly peering down at you from his higher vantage point, “I’m pretty sure those two love it just as much as I do so it won’t count,” his answer leaves you curious but he doesn’t elaborate further. Was he talking about a motor vehicle or something else entirely?
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Giggling beside Remus, you watch the exchange unfold before you with amused eyes and a warm smile hidden behind your fingers. Seeing James and/or Sirius become whiny and pouty wasn’t an everyday occurrence but it happened often enough that you were used to their shenanigans and didn’t give in as easily as you used to, especially with Remus at your side to keep the boys in check. Such as right now. If it weren’t for Remus, you’re sure James and Sirius would have continued to whine and throw a strop until their clients got impatient, left and then proceeded to write a very passionate review about the lack of service. Thankfully, the piercer shooed them away as efficiently as always, reminding the two of their responsibilities and scheduled patrons. 
“Stupid Moony,” James mutters under his breath as he walks away with Sirius, “...always getting Angel all to himself…” 
As soon as the two are out of sight, Remus takes his usual seat behind the front desk and pulls out a small paperback book to keep him occupied. With warm eyes directed at you, he smiles and asks, “would you like to join me for a good read, Dove?” as he speaks, he brings his hand down to rest on his thigh and, with your reeling mind, you mistake the gesture for an invitation that you couldn’t refuse.
Remus never expected you to look so adorable when approaching to sit with him for a read at the register but, other than that, he never expected you to sit on his thigh. You didn’t meet his eyes at first so you didn’t see his shocked state or the creeping grin tugging up the corners of his lips.  
It was embarrassing but this isn’t the first time the boys had you sit in their laps. This was just the first time you were made to sit on your own accord. You don’t think your embarrassment could get any more drastic, however, until you finally look up to see the surprised look on Remus’ face and finally realise your mistake. 
“Oh god! I’m so sorry!” 
He laughs at how adorable you are and winds his strong arm around your waist before you could even attempt to hop off his thigh. 
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” unable to resist, Remus presses a soft kiss against your temple and pulls you even closer to him, “you’re welcome to use me as a seat anytime,” he smiles adoringly at your bashful demeanour, “in fact, I encourage it,”
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NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N : for those of you that don't know, the moodboard was requested by my darling moot @diputy on my 1k milestone event (now closed) but if you're curious, here are the links to the event and the request masterlist : 1k EVENT | 1k MLIST
TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa
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ilongfor-the-arts · 2 years
Note
A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless
Drunk Mind, Sober Heart
Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language
Summary: *in req*
Word Count: 2.5k
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An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.
Was that my alarm?
No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.
I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.
“Shit!”
I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.
Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.
When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.
“Yes!”
The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.
I rolled my eyes.
Of fucking course.
With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.
“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”
I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.
“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”
Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.
“Lip, what time is it?”
I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.
“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”
There was rustling from the other end of the line.
“It’s 9 oh 3.”
I cocked a brow.
“You sure about that?”
“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”
Rustling.
“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.
“Left to right, at least in English.”
“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”
Rustling.
“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”
I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.
“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”
“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”
He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.
I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.
“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”
Silence.
“Uh-that’s another great question…”
His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.
“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”
I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.
“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”
I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.
“Uh-I don’t know the address.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”
I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.
“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”
I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.
“Are you at Christian’s house?”
“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”
I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.
“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”
“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”
“Perfect.”
I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.
Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.
It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.
That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.
I giggled. He looked lost.
I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.
“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”
I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.
“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”
“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”
Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.
“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”
I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.
“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”
I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.
“Jesus Lip!”
I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.
“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”
I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.
Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.
I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.
“Lip.”
The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.
“Yes?”
I grinned.
“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”
“I got it.”
Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.
“This isn’t my house.”
“Yes it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”
Lip squinted, still not convinced.
“Oh!”
His eyes widened as his face relaxed.
“Yeah, I remember now.”
We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.
“Are your roommates home?”
I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.
“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”
“Where did they go?”
“They went… to- somewhere.”
Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.
I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.
“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”
I reconciled.
“Alright. Whatever you say.”
It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.
I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.
“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”
I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.
“Wait…”
He said meekly.
I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.
“What now?”
In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.
“Come here.”
With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.
His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.
I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.
“Come closer.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.
“Closerrrrrr.”
He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.
A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.
Shit.
What have I gotten myself into?
Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.
The air hitched in my throat.
“Lip!”
I exclaimed.
Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.
“Come on Y/N, live a little.”
I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.
“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”
Lip chuckled against my skin.
“Maybe.”
He mumbled.
“No, not maybe, definitely.”
His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.
“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”
I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.
“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”
His tone was sultry.
How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?
Smug bastard.
“I-“
I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.
“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”
He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.
He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.
I shuddered.
My knees began to shake.
Jesus.
I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.
“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”
I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.
“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“
His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.
“Lip, we’re friends-“
“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”
He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.
Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.
No.
Hell no.
“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”
I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.
“No?”
He asked with a sarcastic pout.
“Maybe another time.”
I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.
“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”
He asked smugly.
“Yes, you did.”
Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.
“Will you stay with me?”
I chuckled.
“What are you, seven?”
Lip groaned, his eyes shut.
“No-I’m at least 10.”
Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.
Until tonight.
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.
“Love ya Y/N.”
His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.
“Love you too Lip.”
Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.
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goldfades · 1 year
Text
✮ 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡, trevor zegras
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♡ ─ summary | y/n soft launches her and trev's relationship
♡ ─ warnings | literally nothing except light flirting, some dixie slander
♡ ─ taglist | tbd
♡ ─ ev's notes | i love insta!au’s, tbh this was very self indulgent but nevertheless, hope y’all enjoy
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yourusername anaheim, california
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Liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras and 73,764 others
yourusername | good times & tan lines ☀️🌺⚡️
View all 9,402 comments
yourbestfriendsuser | soft launch???
↳ yourusername ;) hehehe
jhughes | photo creds?
↳ _quinnhughes yeah.. to me ????
↳ trevorzegras quinn be nice, jack stood there for moral support 😇
↳ yourusername ya cus he’s lazy
↳ jhughes i fixed your hair??
↳ yourusername NO U DIDN'T?? U MESSED IT UP??
_quinnhughes | actual photo creds 😒
↳ yourusername all you king 👑
fan1user | WHAT.
anaheimducks | New Ducks power couple 🧡🧡
↳ yourusername mr and mrs anaheim 😝
↳ yourbestfriendsuser SO REAL!
fan2user | not mad bc at least it's not dixie
fan3user | NOOOOO WAY WE LOST HIM 😪😪
↳ fan4user no babe, we lost y/n 🤕🥲
trevorzegras | who's that handsome gent in the 3rd photo? 😍😍😍
↳ jhughes he's more than handsome, he's stunning 😮‍💨
↳ trevorzegras all you man 😍🥰
↳ jhughes check ur dms babe 🤭😏
↳ yourusername stop flirting in my comments
↳ jhughes no
↳ trevorzegras no
↳ yourusername 🤨
↳ trevorzegras sorry princess youre right im sorry
trevorzegras | all mine 🩷🔒🥹
↳ yourusername all yours <3
↳ fan4user AAAAAAWWWWWWWW
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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Note
can u write a fic for joe where they are long distance b/c the reader lives in Seattle and she surprises him by showing up to a game.
surprise
joe burrow x reader
warnings: pure fluff!! mentions of reader previously being with shitty guys
word count: 1.6k
note: didn’t specifically place the reader in seattle, but it is implied the reader is living in pst, joe in est
thank you so much for this request!! loved writing it and i hope you enjoy <3
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Dating Joe Burrow was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Living on the opposite side of the country from him was not.
You had never thought you were the type of person who could feel truly secure in a long-distance relationship, never having known you could trust someone so fully. It turned out the issue wasn’t entirely your difficulties with trusting; it had also been the fact you were with people not deserving of such trust. The boys you had known before Joe had used any amount of physical distance to excuse their emotional distance.
Now, you awoke to a good morning voice memo from Joe every single day, reminding you of how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how much he wished he was waking up with you beside him. He would spend hours on FaceTime with you at night, even when it meant staying up until the wee hours to make up for the time difference, despite having an early practice the following morning. He had shown you that no distance could get in the way of genuine love. Joe had changed your perspective entirely, loving you so honestly and openly you couldn’t help but feel safe placing all of your faith in him.
You never had cause to doubt his loyalty, and even when your unfounded fears about him straying threatened to take over your mind, he helped guide you back to reality. In reality, the love you shared ran deep and true. He couldn’t imagine finding someone half as beautiful, as kind, as caring as you. Neither could you imagine a more perfect man existed for you. You two were simply made for each other, two souls always destined to find a home in each other’s hearts.
He made time to fly out and visit you whenever he could, even if it was only for a weekend, knowing your school schedule made it more challenging for you to come and see him. You didn’t know how you could ever be quite as good to him as he was to you, but God, you tried. That was why you were surprising him at a home game on a random Thursday.
To Joe’s best knowledge, you were busy with finals this whole week. Little did he know, you only had exams scheduled Monday through Wednesday. You had flown into Cincinnati that morning. It had been a little hard to give Joe a convincing reason for the fact that you couldn’t FaceTime or call for six hours straight, since he knew no exam took that long, but you thought in the end he had bought your story that you had two back to back and needed to use all the time in between them for last minute review.
Now, though, you found yourself in a taxi headed to the stadium. You had gone from the airport to Joe’s place, dropping off your luggage. Even though you lived so far away, he had given you a key, more of a symbolic gesture than a practical one. Nevertheless, it was coming in handy.
The security at the stadium had been alerted of your presence, thanks to your contact with Joe’s coach, and you were led by a guard through several locked doors before emerging into the hallway that connected to the field. The security guard accompanying you let you speed walk ahead, unable to prolong being reunited with Joe for a second longer than necessary.
You emerged into the gray light of the day, the strength of the sun softened by a layer of clouds. You spotted Joe’s number nine jersey right away - it matched the one you were wearing. His back was to you as he tossed a football back and forth with Ja’Marr.
He was out of earshot, but Tee wasn’t, so you called out to him from the sidelines, where you stood behind the retractable barrier. Despite the fact that you lived so far away, you knew all of Joe’s teammates well. You had celebrated wins with them in person when you could and shared dinner with those who Joe was closest with. Whenever Joe FaceTimed you from the locker room before a game, he would hold his phone up so the rest of the guys could wave at your image on the screen while you wished them good luck. They all adored you, especially seeing how happy you made their quarterback.
However, that didn’t stop them from making cheeky comments about how whipped he was for you whenever they overheard your locker room conversations or caught him smiling at his phone. He couldn’t care less; he knew it was all in good fun, and he would never be ashamed of how happy his girl made him.
“Tee!” you called out, waving down the wide receiver.
“Hey!” he said automatically, before he realized who he was talking to. “What are you doing here? Joe didn’t say you were in town!” as he walked over, smiling broadly, clearly happy to see you.
“He doesn’t know,” you quickly explained. “Could you get him over here?”
“Aw, you’ve gotta do it yourself, come in, they won’t care.” Tee pulled up a section of the barrier, allowing you to duck beneath it.
“If I get hit in the head by a football, I’m blaming you!” you joked, before giving Tee a quick thanks and setting off across the field with the longest strides you could manage.
Once in earshot, you started calling out, “Joe! Joe!”
He immediately whipped his head around, recognizing your familiar voice but not comprehending why he was hearing it so clearly, momentarily questioning his sanity until his eyes fell on your familiar face, your radiant smile directed right at him. Your grin, already impossibly wide, somehow grew when you caught the first glimpse of his beautiful face in person.
“Baby,” he said, evidently shocked. He dropped the football from his hands, eyes wide, and quickly closed the distance between you with long strides. You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms snugly around his neck as he lifted your feet off the ground, his arms secure around your waist. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. It was always these intimate little details he missed the most.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in disbelief, voice muffled as he spoke against your neck, unwilling to untangle himself from you just yet.
“I missed you, and I thought it would be fun to surprise you.” Your voice threatened to break under the force of emotion rising in your chest. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby, so much,” he murmured, his voice husky.
On the drive to the stadium, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t cry when you saw him again, but how could you stop your eyes from watering and eventually overflowing with the sheer and overwhelming joy of being back in your boy’s arms? You sniffled, and Joe pulled back just enough to see your face.
“Oh, sweet girl, don’t cry. Y’know I’ll start if you do,” he murmured, his large, warm hands coming to hold your face as he smiled softly at you. “You’re here now, I’m here, it’s all okay.”
You smiled, the crinkling at the corners of your eyes causing another tear to slide down your cheek. Before it could go far, Joe’s thumb gently swiped it away. He leaned down to press a kiss to the path the tear had just traced down your cheek, another to your forehead, the tip of your nose, before finally meeting your lips with his. His kiss was pure sweetness, tender and gentle and loving.
Your hands came to hold his face, one finger tracing down his jaw as you rested your foreheads together, going cross-eyed as you gazed at each other.
“Missed your beautiful face so much, baby. Swear you get prettier every time I see you.” Y
You smiled. “Could say the same for you, pretty boy.”
He flushed slightly. “Can’t believe you’re actually here,” he sighed, almost in relief, as if your presence lifted a weight from his shoulders - the weight of your absence. Right after, a quizzical look appeared on his brow. “What about your exams, though?”
“I lied when I said I had one every day - don’t have any today or tomorrow.”
“I should’ve known something was up when I couldn’t get in touch with you for so long today,” he chuckled.
Standing on tiptoe, you gave his lips another peck. “Guess you’ll just have to admit I outsmarted you, Burrow.”
“Just this once, sweetheart.”
Although you could’ve stood in the middle of that football field for another hour just holding him, absorbing the fact of his very existence, he had a game to prepare for. “I shouldn’t keep you too long, Joe-“
“Yes you should. You should always keep me,” he interjected.
“You know what I mean,” you laughed. “You’ve got a game to win.”
“Can’t lose when I know my girl’s watching! Think I need one more kiss for good luck.” You happily indulged his wishes.
“I’ll be waiting for you after the game, my love.”
“Can’t wait,” he replied, before his coach hollered, “Wrap it up, lover boy!”
“Two seconds!” he yelled back, pulling you back into his chest for one more moment before saying goodbye.
It was the easiest goodbye you’d exchanged in months, not shared through a screen or punctuated only by air kisses and waves. This goodbye wasn’t marred by the knowledge of the distance between you and the cold beds you were each sleeping in, alone. In hours, you would be reunited. You would be in the same building, asleep in the same bed, warming each other. And you would get to kiss his perfect face, not just in your dreams.
Whether this game was a win or a loss, you both knew tonight would be one of the happiest in a while.
could write a pt 2 to this if anyone was interested. let me know if that’s something you’d like and whether you’d like it to go in a fluffier or spicier direction … thanks for reading! <3
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uriwoos2 · 2 months
Text
my feelings, forever. 𓂃⊹ (psh)
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*·˚ . ✶ pairing: bf!sungho x gn!reader. genre: fluff, a teensy bit of hurt/comfort if u squint. overview: a date with your lovely bf turns into an aching heart (or two), as you try and accept each other's love for what it is. word count: 2.2k warnings: mentions of being obsessed with another person (light hearted, in a non-toxic way) idk if this counts as suggestive, but there's kissing! ♡ note: haha.. idk what came over me.. this was originally a very fluffy soft date scenario in my head but then it just happened.. sooo give it a read if you'd like, sorry if it's weird. nevertheless, hope you enjoy! big thanks to vivi for beta reading! I appreciate it sm!! <3 like & reblog if you enjoy reading >< — with love, cream <3 . . . @onedoornet
♪₊˚song: lily of the valley – daniel.
warmth,
it's what you feel on your face as the afternoon sun lays it's rays upon your cheeks, ever so softly. you feel smothered by it, rather than irritated, its beams not so overbearing today. or maybe it's your mood that's different..
warmth, it's what you hold in your hand, in the form of an arm, belonging to your dearest person. as you lay there, head resting in his lap, hugging it close to your chest. the arm holds you with care, his touch firm, but ever so gentle.
warmth, it's what falls into your field of vision as you lazily crack your eyes open, meeting his. beyond him, the great star glowing as bright as it felt on your skin. your boyfriend's gaze is directed at you, not any less fascinating, so love-filled, that you have no trouble reading his mind, no need for words to be uttered.
warmth, it's what you decipher in the smile sungho gives you, his lips moving to shape words that float to you like little notes sung by the purest angels. you find yourself thinking that you could listen to him forever.
he asks you, what are you thinking about, and you can't help but let your stare linger on his face, instead of responding. the way his long eyelashes flutter when he blinks, the swiftness with which his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his cheeks.. painted a lovely cherry tone, courtesy of the summer heat. oh how wonderful he is.
warmth, it's what you feel spreading throughout your body, as he giggles softly, covering his face with the hand that's not holding yours. blush spreads to the bridge of his slender nose, as you go to get a feel of his heated skin, thumb brushing the reddened cheeks as delicately as he, himself is.
I can't function well when you stare at me like that, he admits shyly. but your affection for him just grows at that, eliciting a giddy chuckle of your own.
warmth, it's what the cool breeze brings along with it, as it flows through your lover's hair, caressing it with utmost care. you feel it brush against the bare skin of your legs, soothing and refreshing, as it tends to be in the season of the sun.
you sit up. there's an undeniable urge, a pull in your body that wants, no– needs to cradle sungho in your arms.
you used to feel quite shy about such honest displays of affection, feeling so vulnerable and embarrassed to act on these intense emotions.. but now, all the last bit of doubt is discarded in the dark depths of your mind, since your boyfriend confessed to adoring it, when you're sincere, when you're bold. so you grab his sides to satisfy the longing of your aching heart to get close to his.
warmth, it's what inevitably pulses through your bloodstream, when your lover wraps his strong, gentle arms around you. his face immediately hidden in the safety of the crook of your neck. ...he's shy.
your heart swells with the deep adoration for the person in your hold, as you're able feel his bashful smile through where it rests against your skin. your own heart detects the shift in the speed of his heartbeat, gradually slowing as he relaxes into you. my gentle boy. your arms tighten around his middle, the need to protect him so utterly strong. you're not sure from what, exactly, but you know you'd rather go blind than see your baby hurt. you press an appreciative little peck on his shoulder, as pure love swells in your chest. so soft, my darling.
warmth, it's what causes you to reluctantly part from one another eventually, the heat of your bodies adding to the already scorching temperature in the air, making it impossible to tolerate. but it remains, the warmth that is, in the form of your boyfriend's flushed cheeks. in the form of a permanent phenomenon in the crevices of your heart.
you smile at him, reaching out to tuck some hair strands out of his angelic face. his hand instantaneously finds yours in an impatient grip. you desperately want to believe he craves closeness, just as much as you do. even though he's very polite about it.. he's so nice. he's so good.
warmth, it's what you hope your gaze holds, as you let it travel across his features, the entirety of him, admiring his beauty. feeling a bit choked up with how lovely he is, how much he means to you.. your heart skips a beat.
the roaming gaze finally comes to a stop at his thoughtful eyes. he's already looking at you, the color of his irises brightened in the natural light of the sun. you lean in to touch your lips to sungho's waiting ones. his body seemingly having a gravitational field of its own, drawing you near and near, leaving you helpless under the inexplicable force.
but you're willing. more than that, it's your dream to never ever leave his side, finding solace and home in your love, the reason why his lips feel so natural on yours, as if in a heartfelt reunion after being separated for centuries.
his hand comes to feel your face, keep you on him. it's not as if you'd want to part with him anyway, but he makes sure.
warmth, it's what you feel swirling in the space between the two of you, as you finally retract your eager, swollen lips to take a breath. his forehead coming in contact with yours, eyelids dropping, as a content smile rests on his face.
you keep yours open, focusing on how he regains his normal breathing rhythm. his cheeks scarlet for a different reason now, but it doesn't matter. he's cute either way.
a giggle escapes you unknowingly, startling him, as he peeps at you through one of his eyes, gaze curious and playful. in times like these, you can swear you almost feel your heart being stepped on, ripped open and sewn back together. only now with an image of your dreamy lover etched inside. it hurts.
warmth, it's what you, once again, detect on the sides of his face through your fingertips. he shuts his eyes, feigning shyness now. he's simply adorable. my silly baby. you don't have any words to describe the gut wrenching emotions he makes you experience, no way to relay your passion and yearning in any way, but also not wanting to overwhelm him, scare him away.. your feelings are a bit too much, after all.. even for you. so you settle for a peck on the tip of his dainty nose, wishing on every star in the sky that he gets the message.
warmth, it's evident in the tug at the corners of his pretty mouth, he knows what I'm trying to do. he can tell, because in times like these your demeanor changes completely, eyes focused entirely on his face, almost as if you're attempting to seep through the shell of his body and take a closer look at his soul. almost as if he's the only tangible being left on earth, and in all existence. the only thing you can touch, feel, and see.
he always notices it when you get in this sort of headspace, staring at him with this.. look in your eyes. one that almost makes him feel like you want to devour him whole, break the barrier of his skin and sneak through his ribcage to live there with him. as if it's not enough to just hug his body, your arms aching to cradle his heart. and truthfully, you kinda want to. really, really dreadfully want to. the need makes you feel sick, and so incredibly lonely.
warmth, it's what he leaves on your cheek in the shape of a kiss, in an attempt to reassure you, that he's not scared of your feelings. even though he should be, you think to yourself. you don't ever want to make him uncomfortable, deeming his heart too fragile and precious, almost as if you share his pain, and as if you know all his troubles.. but then he takes you by the wrists, carefully placing your hands flat on his chest, right above his speedy heart. it's so fast.. so comforting.
warmth, is what drips from his words, when he tells you, he loves you. more than you could ever imagine... and you think he somehow really has access to all your thoughts. because, otherwise.. otherwise… how would he know the exact second, when your mind takes a harsh, ugly turn, urging horrible emotions to take over your head? how?..
but then he smiles, as he usually does, with all his love woven into the simple gesture, as he repeats his confession, I love you.
warmth, it's what he claims to receive through your actions, your words, and even, your thoughts. he tells you, he's grateful for your raw yearning for him, with an affection in his eyes that pools and threatens to overflow.
you duck your head, bumping his chest with it, unwilling to believe something so unthinkable, at least that's what you deem it to be. but you can't escape it, as the sincerity of his words flows through each single pulse of his heart, and you just can't dismiss it. never. it's yours too, after all.
warmth, it's what persists, even when you retract both your palms and forehead from where they're resting on his chest, breaking all contact. you don't know what to do with yourself, head hung low as you try to process it all, as you try to accept it all.
he loves me as much as I love him, and needs me just as much too.. he says this, but does he truly not feel a shred of repulsion over the sheer intensity of your twisted, almost obsessive longing for him?
warmth, it's in how carefully sungho holds your cheeks to bring your face into his field of vision, once more. his gaze unfaltering, full of fondness and understanding. his heart swells at the way that you're the one, who's actually so polite about your love, and your need for him. your hearts so alike, but it's inevitable, since they're connected, sharing an identical beat.
he glances toward the sky for a moment, sunshine flashing his eyes, too bright. the thought echoes in his mind as his gaze focuses back on you, too bright. sungho boops your nose with the tip of his finger, and giggles under his breath. he's repeating my gesture, you think. he understands you, and accepts your love. he reciprocates it too, unsurprisingly. he's more than willing to communicate it in a way you would grasp the full meaning of it, so he copies you.
your heart skips a beat and you can feel tears threatening to fall. but before they have a chance, he speaks to you in a whisper, calling you by the term of endearment so overused by now, that you'd feel sick of it, if you weren't absolutely head over heels for him, my light, I know.. I know it well, and I love you.
warmth, is what settles into your bones, feeling as if he's just snuck into your heart and wrapped his arms around it, beating you to it.
warmth, as his lips land on yours in a kiss so tender, almost as if to seal his confession, a proof of his honesty.
warmth, left behind by the tears in their trail as they slide down your face, landing on his cheek. you kiss him back softly, thanking him in each and every peck. thank you, thank you, thank you.
warmth, is what he feels, everytime he sets his eyes on you. most of the time even the simple thought of you brings a certain comfort to smother his mind, and when he closes his eyes he sees it.
your warmth, lighting up the void of his equally lonely heart, each and every corner of it.
maybe, he'll tell you all this someday, maybe, he'll be brave enough to admit how much of himself he actually shares with you.. someday. but the warm breath of his hitting your lips is enough now, it's more than. he kisses your tears away, insanely regretful to have made you cry.
warmth, in your eyes, as some of that innate light seeps out through them, making a beeline straight for his aching heart. he's mesmerised by it, the way it glimmers so visibly.
it's all warmth, when you lay your head back on sungho's soft lap, taking his arm into your hold, back to how you were, sniffling as you feel exhaustion overcome you.
except, your hearts beat in sync, more than ever now, sharing the same exact warmth.
it's all safe and quiet in this moment, there's just this whisp of comfort, floating through the air, as you drift off in the arms of your love.
sungho looks down to observe your peaceful face, but all he can see through his eyes, is a warm ball of glowing yellow in his arms.
there's a soft whisper of I love you, one more time. this time only the wind here to witness it, but he doesn't mind. not at all.
a gentle feeling overcomes his mind and takes shelter his heart. and yes, it's undeniably intense, but it is warm.
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geppettospuppet · 11 months
Text
pino affection hcs<3
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a/n: two hc posts in a day bc i'm insane I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! ok hope u sillies enjoy
ok remember how i said in my last post pinocchio would be gentle?
OWIRJALDJJRAAAAHAHAHHEJAJAJA *EATING SHEETMETAL*
yeah so anyway that 100% includes how he interacts with his lover
actually, pino would go out of his way to learn to become more gentle and empathetic for the person he developes feelings for (once he learns what empathy is ofc)
because he isn't very vocal, don't expect him to say "i love you" too often
i mean HE WILL!! but with the way his mind works, he'd rather just show you that he loves you through actions
one of the biggest things for p is quality time
i've seen some people on here have the reader read stories to pino and oh my gosh i absolutely love the idea
not only would he listen to you read stories to him, but he would also just be a great listener in general
whether you're telling him about your day or ranting about a pet peeve
he will always listen to you intently because well!!! he loves you and you could never annoy him
not that pino gets annoyed often... unless it's at gemini...
another thing i can see that pretty boy doing is kiss his partner periodically without warning
and he will do it EVERYWHERE
be prepared for surprise kisses
but pino isn't the type to be aggressive about it at all. it's more like... you'll be doing something mundane and p will just come up and kiss you softly on your head/hand/cheek/lips/ect
tbh this is giving me a oneshot idea
he also loves to cuddle, but was super hesitant to do it at first because he's so heavy that he's nervous you'll just feel uncomfortable:(
but over time i can def see him crawling into bed with you and snuggling after you gave him a talk about it
"pino you never make me uncomfortable when you cuddle with me!!! now get in bed!!!" and he just obeys and the topic never gets brought up again
also, i hope you're not freaked out by people staring at you
because tbh... pino would absolutely stare at you intently over everything you do
but the boy is just so enamored by you and your beauty HE JUST NEEDS TO LOOK AT YOU ALL THE TIME!!!!
im sorry he's kind of a weirdo </3
also? because he's learning what it means to be human what better way to do it than to just watch it happen in real time!! and from his favorite person at that!!!
another thing i can see p doing is giving you random things he finds while adventuring
sometimes they're really cool things like extra parts from a giant puppet he fought!!
other times... it would be trash
but nevertheless, you still accept it because it truly is the thought that counts
and if it's cool to him and brings him joy, it brings you joy too!!
overall this boy just adores you and and would give you the world if he could. you're just so delicate and precious to him💞
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emoreemadden · 5 months
Note
can u make a gojo fanfic where he like abuseive when he comes home to their apartment bc hes stressed out about a meeting and stuff so like he abiuses the reader while she tries to welcome him home but she starts crying infront of him but tries to hide it and goes back to making dinner then gojo go takes a shower and thinks abt it then feels bad and gets out of the shower and realises the reader made him his favorite meal and feels emevn more bad and goes to apologize also make version with no smut and one with smut pleaseee thankz
😃 oh…
anyways yeah here you go pookie <3
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Outline: Gojo isn’t trying to hurt you. It was an accident, swear.
Content Warnings: abuse, fem!reader, gojo hits reader, domestic violence, slight degradation (reader doesn’t enjoy it 😭), gojo yells at reader, use of “baby,” and “my love,” as petnames
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, fem!reader
A/N: this is the non smut one. word count: 743. btw, i don’t condone actual violence or domestic abuse yall 😭 if any of this feels familiar to you, help is available. national domestic violence hotline: 800-799-7233.
────────────────────────
You jump up from your seat on the couch as soon as you hear the doorknob jiggle. “You’re home!” you exclaim as your boyfriend opens the door.
You quickly run over to him, an inviting smile on your face, but he just stands at the door with an irritated expression on his face.
“Yep.” He says, tone clipped. You pause a few feet in front of him. “Is something wrong? Do you need a hug?” You ask, carefully stepping toward him.
Satoru stares at you for a good second, his eyes narrowing. “I’m fine.” He mumbles.
“Are you sure?” you pry, about to touch his bicep when he grabs your wrist. “Jesus, could you just give me a moment of peace for once?” He snaps, his grasp on your wrist tightening.
You flinch. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” suddenly, a sharp sting spreads on your cheek. You look at Satoru, feeling your face smarting.
“Shut up, goddamnit!” He yells, roughly letting go of your hand as your eyes begin to tear up. “I swear, you’re trying to get on my nerves. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
You blink in shock, your cheek reddening from the impact of the slap. Tears begin to fall from your eyes and you hold back a sob. The entire house falls into silence as the two of you stand there.
He watches you try to wipe the tears from your eyes, suddenly feeling the guilt swell in his chest. Why did he do that?
You sniffle, looking away from his gaze and pausing. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I’ll go finish making dinner.”
Satoru sighs, calming himself. He reaches to put his hand on your shoulder and calm you down, but you’re turning around and walking to the kitchen before he can apologize.
He can almost feel tears in his eyes, realizing what he’d done to you. Nevertheless, he watches you walk away in complete silence.
The whole scene replays in his head as he walks into the bedroom, hands in his hair and tugging from frustration. You were just trying to help him, and he hurt you like that. Another pang of guilt fills his body.
He’d had a bad day at work, everything was stressing him out. He hadn’t meant to hit you like that. He didn’t think.
Gojo rubs his temples as he strips his clothes and hops in the shower, hoping he could cool off and come back to talk to you later.
About thirty minutes later, Gojo dries himself off and walks into the living room. “Baby?” he calls out. You peek out from the kitchen.
“Toru?” you say softly, blinking at Gojo with a nervous expression. He gives you an apologetic smile.
“You okay?” He asks, walking toward you and stopping just a few feet in front of you. You simply nod a little.
“I made dinner.” You say, looking at the table covered with food. Gojo follows suit, looking over at the meal you made and immediately feeling even more guilt and regret then before.
“You made my favourite?” he asks, looking at you tenderly. You nod meekly again. He sighs.
“I’m sorry, baby.” he spoke quietly, as if afraid he’s scare you at a louder volume. You stayed silent as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your cheek.
Gently, he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just stressed. Work sucked, and I just didn’t think. I’m so so sorry.”
Your eyes tear up just a little bit, but you nod. “I just wanted to help you.” you tell him. He nods understandingly. “I know, baby.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you close to his chest. “I love you so much.” he whispers against your hair, holding you close.
You don’t move for a second, but ease into it eventually. You bury yourself into his warm embrace as his arms wrap around you protectively.
“I swear, it was an accident. I’ll never do it again.” he promises. He interlaces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.
“Okay, I believe you. Do you want to eat now?” You ask, looking up at him with a hopeful glint in your eye.
He grins back. “Of course, my love.” He says, guiding you to the table and sitting you down on his lap.
“And if you’d like, I can have you for desert.”
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aftersamu · 1 year
Text
HUSH HUSH PAIRING: suna x gn!reader TAGS: fooling around in secret / almost getting caught
this is a lot different to what i have written before, but this idea came up in my head and i wanted to write it out and see where it goes. and i hope u all enjoy this more matured, exploration, era of my writing &lt;3
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suna isn't really friend. he's more of a friend of a friend, a person who shares a similar friend group, a counter part sort of extension from your friend group.
meaning, you see each other at parties, general hangouts, and are on the same group chat. other than that, there hasn't been much interaction between the two of you.
until a month ago.
maybe it was the alcohol, the ambiance of the party, or they way your eyes met from across the room. he was there, behind the makeshift bar at kuroo's house party alone. and you had run out of people to talk to, so you approached him.
the conversation was light, shared a round of shots, and nobody had their eyes on either of you. the talking, light touches on his arm, it all resulted in the two of you walking off together into the bathroom.
it was meant to be a one time thing.
something that was fuelled by the lack of inhibition, and the effects of vodka and tequila running through your bloodstream.
then again, once was clearly not enough.
as now, your roommate, your best friend is out of the house and suna's over like he has been for almost every week since the party. every time you're home alone, he comes over.
you could say it's a poor lack of judgement, or a questionable moment in your life, but god has the past month been fun. the sneaking around behind your friends' backs, the stolen glances, the text messages, the entire package.
you've never felt so alive before. this whole idea of secrecy, something kept between the two of you, as cheesy as it sounds, it's fucking incredible.
pressed against the bedroom wall, legs wrapped around his waist and hands running through brunette hair. there is an urgency. One that is desperate, hungry, lustful, and passionate, as your fingers lace themselves through his hair. his hands at the underside of your thighs holding you up.
"how long will your roommate be gone for?" he murmurs,
"a while, we have time." you pull his mouth to yours, paying little attention to the possibility of anyone returning anytime soon.
your hands trail down his torso, reaching for the hem of his shirt. your touch on his skin sends shivers down his spine, nevertheless, he obliges.
legs dropping to the floor as he pulls the black tee over his head, tossing it across the room before kissing you stronger, desperate, like he's fighting to memorise the feel of your lips together.
god, he's making you crazy, a pile of want, and addiction that sends a person spiralling out of control. his fingers wrap themselves around your necklace, pulling lightly at the thin rusting chain, as a hand is placed on the wall beside you.
your fingers wrapped around the belt loop of his jeans.
it's a routine at this point. the rush, the insatiable feeling of having him so close, the buildup that you chase every time he comes over.
then... a door slams, the jingle of keys work in harmony to the frustrated mumbling echoing off the halls. foot steps approach the bedroom door, a voice calls out your name in a frustrated groan.
alarms ring in your mind as you push the boy off, pinning him against the wall, with a hand over his mouth as you fix your tank top before running a hand through your hair to hide the mess.
you pull open the door, leaning against the frame, a hand still placed on suna's mouth. "what's going on?" you ask, pretending that there isn't a secret hookup right next you, "i thought you had a hair appointment."
trying your best to sound calm, nonchalant, yet sympathetic and caring all at the same time.
"i know, but i called the salon to confirm, and guess what!" they rant, standing out in the hall, one inch away from stepping forward and seeing the hidden body behind the wall.
"what?"
"they told me they couldn't secure my place because i didn't make a deposit!" they exclaim, "first of all, they never told me to make a deposit, nor sent me the bank details."
"that's so fucked!" you say, "how much was the deposit?"
"fifty! fifty fucking dollars, for a stupid deposit to make sure i show up!" they yell, "these hair salons are getting greedy nowadays. and now i'm in a terrible mood!"
"hey, look, i've got a friend that works at a salon downtown." you say, "i'll give 'em a call and see if i can get you an appointment today, will that make you feel better?"
"will you do that?" they sigh of relief, "because if you can that would be amazing! i've got an important work dinner tonight and i want to look good."
"oh, yeah totally, let me go call them right now." you assure, quickly closing the door and leaning against the wood.
suna moves your hand from his lips, "so, are our plans cancelled or what?" he jokes.
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587 notes · View notes
sincerelyverena · 5 months
Note
Can you write for sub!Oliver? I'm so desperate seeing him squirming and whining😮‍💨
⟡⁺ RUN, BUNNY, RUN
oh hi guys its been a while ! never thought id manage to get this out but here it is, n i hope u all enjoy. ive missed each n every one of u (sorta) (joking). anyways im planning to lean in on the more multifandom aspect of my account, so youll be seeing a few different fandoms scattered around. nevertheless, give it a read! mybe itll be ur thing :] ty anon for this request, much love <3
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. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘beautiful, violent, vulgar.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin
inbox is always open to requests!
in whichꕀ
✦ ﹒oliver got what he wanted at a price.
tagsꕀ
✦ ﹒smut ﹐sub!oliver﹐dom!reader ﹐y/n catton﹐reader is a cougar ﹐oliver just cant get enough﹐reader is implied to be a shorty ﹐elspeth is a hoe﹐cunnilingus ﹐degradation﹐orgasm denial﹐marking kink ﹐lowkey blackmail ﹐farleighs there too!
ON THE HUNT FOR BETA READERS! MSG ME <3
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He reminded you of a bunny, an animal.
Oliver Quick was reticent compared to the hearty, high conversation around the table that night. He was stuck out like a sore thumb in contrast to the Cattons, a family line of the prestigious. High on the grace of themselves and each other. Blissfully unaware of anyone or anything past what they offer to their inflated egos. And who were you, to make such unprincipled claims against family? Against blood?
Mother  – Elspeth, as she insists all the children call her – had always made snide, discreet digs at you. Shielded with a manipulative curl of the whoreish pinks of her lipstick. Underneath those sly comments is a white-hot grudge, directed toward her only daughter of blood and the Catton heiress everybody just seemed to have forgotten about.
‘You only think of yourself.’ She says. 
‘You only believe you’re superior because you abandoned the only people who’ll ever care for you.’
But they never cared for you. Not in the slightest.
You were the only descendant of the new-age family line that didn’t reside under the roof of Saltburn, causing waves in the circles of old money when you took your trust fund (and dignity) in a single palm and vanished to New Mexico. 
Nevertheless, to maintain access to the trust fund, you have been spending the entirety of every summer with your bloodline you inherently disowned. Money was the bottom line, the bottom line of every transaction you make with your parents. Which wasn’t a problem in the slightest, considering in their eyes, how much you were worth was the only thing cardinal about you.
You had stayed summers long enough to recognize the twisted, Catton-branded pattern your brother, Felix, had fallen into. In your eyes, he wasn’t fit to be claimed the bloodline heir. His blood is unsavory and debilitated. During the presidency of his birth, Elspeth had been participating in affairs with men who would’ve directly tainted both the reputation of the family name. As well as the bloodline.
The crimson redness of your dagger-shaped nails clinks along the side of the thin wineglass in your palm. Those morals of clean blood had been hammered into your head for decades, no matter how much your mother preached her modernized values.
Elspeth was still the same harlot she was all those years prior. 
The exact reason why instead of disturbance, thinly veiled amusement is masked between your hues as you witnessed Elspeth’s conversation with Oliver. The wrinkle of her eye crinkled furthermore with maliciousness, masked with honeyed words. Oliver reacts in a manner especially foreign to you. The apples of his cheeks pinken as Elspeth momentarily offers a palm toward the muscle of his arm, a singular touch as Oliver’s lips clamped together. Unable to respond for a beat of a moment. The cogs behind Oliver’s eyes turn and work soundlessly, having to be coorused by Elspeth herself to respond. 
Oliver was a stark difference from Felix’s past pets, brought to the household each summer for the entertainment of all. You observe him thoroughly, without shame. Nobody would question you anyway, especially the Catton children. The food chain of the bloodline stands unquestioned with Felix toppling all competition. But you were there first, and the force of that power still stands. 
All that you knew was that Oliver would be at the very bottom. A stark, white rabbit amongst the lions and wolves. The sheep's clothing they wear? Deteriorated. 
And you’d die for a chance to snap your jaws around his neck.
Even though you were barely a decade older compared to the other descendants of the Catton name, your tastes in sexuality had simmered. You have had your fair share of flings, basking in sensual attention like how your younger relatives are receiving nowadays. 
You’ve made the stark assumption that only a few strains of men and woman could cause that familiar warmth to unfurl within the depths of her core. But you were solely mistaken, as the cobalt hues of Oliver Quick met yours. They withheld the sweetest traces of caramel that caused something to stir. Something that caused the top of your bare thighs to squeeze together absentmindedly.
Oliver’s once-pinkened cheeks redden once again. He was the first to look away.
Run, bunny, run. The words bounce around your skull aimlessly, as if the density of your head were hollow. Your only set intention was the young man across the cherry-wood table, and how your lips curl upward at the thought. 
An unmistakable atmosphere of tension ridged itself between the two. Unmistakeable enough for Oliver to virtually scramble from his chair with a lowly hinged creak as soon as the black-tie dinner was to be dismissed, disappearing into the estate’s foyer without another word. In the process, silencing the remainder of the table as they escape the metaphorical weight of their chairs.
‘Someone had to go.’ Farleigh snarks, expression feigning boredom.
Elspeth offers a scoff in turn, though the weariness of her hues twinkle with stuffed amusement. ‘Don’t be silly, Farleigh.’
On the other hand, Felix’s brow wrinkles. You tune out the roar of masculine voices and a battle of ego as the two relatives bicker over the treatment of their guests. The hypocritical bounds and leaps of their voices were enough for your meal of fancy, fickle steak and fluffy, mashed potatoes to churn in your stomach.
As much as Felix preaches for his adoration of Oliver Quick, the entire household – even the thinness of the estate walls – knows that he’s only a temporary fix to his hunger for the disadvantaged. Viewing himself as a saint, veiling the sin that reverberated inside. Even Felix is willing to slip unsavory words about Oliver’s history before their friendship, especially his mother’s drug addiction. 
You shortly realized you were the only one who hadn’t uttered a single word about Oliver. Yet, at least.  You were the only person under the Catton's roof. You’ve maintained formality, and politeness in the scarce cases of passing the salt along the length of the table. But there was nothing polite in the way the relentless azure of his eyes bored into your own, obstructing every value and moral you’ve ever known.
They always said curiosity would eventually kill the cat. The claws of your nails threaten to dig into the hitch of your thigh, deep to the point of drawn blood.
You needed to know about him.
The soles of your crimson-sheathed heels click against the top of the blemishless floorings. The space between your shoulder blades bur without missing a beat, bound to be from the hawk-eyes of Elspeth Catton and her descendants that followed. Nevertheless, you push past the judgment and persevere forward toward the same foyer Oliver had vanished into.
The double-storied entrance room was as grand as the rest of the estate. Dark 
strains of oak are the main attraction, revealing the old-money origins of Saltburn. Jars of incense sticks decorate the occasional corner, the passionate white musk filling the atmosphere, tickling the back of your throat as you inhale.
The peace-brimming silence is sliced with a stressed rummaging from the door placed offside, shielded behind the wood-trimmed stairway. You prided yourself on minding your own business, but you couldn’t help but shuffle a tad closer. Enough to catch a glimpse of a singular bead of light, trickling out of the gap the door had made.
You cursed the thrum of your heels as you ventured closer. Hand strained against the top of the engraved door, sending strained words to the universe as you threaten to inch it wider and wider open.
All that secrecy disappeared from your body at the sight of Oliver Quick. It took you a few, prolonged seconds to recognize the young man amid the shadows. The sight of his scruffy, pale knees pressed against the ground. A crown of wavy, brunette locks shielded the focused curve of his eye as he rummaged through something. You couldn’t help it, fingers curling to widen the door a little more.
Creak.
Nothing could prepare you for what you witnessed before you. Even the panicked alarm that flares in the cobalt of Oliver’s hues goes ignored as he virtually snaps his head toward you. Amid his hands, various Catton heirlooms have gone untouched. Useless to some, priceless to others, and you guessed Oliver had made his mark on that.
‘What in the world are you doing with Aunty Start’s Apollo earrings?’
The words escaped you in a rush. Who knew that that your snow-white, innocent bunny had nefarious means within the Catton family? You exaggerate aunty’s last name, a slight teetering edge of glee trickling into you at the sight of grieving recognition that filled Oliver’s eyes.
 You stepped fully into the doorway.
‘I wonder what Farleigh would think about that.’
Oliver didn’t take the threat lightly, notable by the slight shake in his voice. “You wouldn’t.” He insisted. His hands scrambled, and the box propped between his fingers slipped and clattered across the oak of the storage room’s grounding.
The sole of your heel slams against the bottom of the door, widening it entirely. You entered the room with a click of the underside of your shoes, reverberating throughout the suddenly too-cold, too-hollow room you found yourself in. The only sense of illumination is the light from the foyer, trickling into the suddenly too-compact expanse.
You crouched down. Knees hitting the base of the flooring similarly to Oliver’s own, barely a foot or two away. You could hear the tameness of his breaths. The sharp, panicked gasps and swallows that only made your lips twist upward. The threat was there, looming over Oliver’s head, choking him by the throat.
‘Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. You decide, Ollie.’
‘How–’
The length of your fingers curled around the curve of his cheeks, pressed into the slight hollowness that would follow. Silencing him in turn. The splinters of illumination from the doorway behind them manage to offer an iridescent glow toward the plumpness of Oliver’s lips as you squeeze half of his alluring face. 
You hadn’t expected the first, proper interactions with Oliver Quick to wind up in his manner. But you have no intention to stop. The fashion in which his eyes bore into your own, gaze hawk-like as he stared down at you. Eyelashes fluttering. Pupils dilated.
A wave of awareness rolled through you at the sight. Those same splinters of warmth unfurled in the base of your abdomen.
‘What are you doing here, Oliver?’
Your digits eased around the sides of his face to allow him to speak. The cheeks you once grappled somewhat pinkened once more, face glowing under your undivided attention.
Oliver’s breaths grew slower and slower. As if your touch drunken him.
‘Felix invited me,’ his words were borderlining a whine, scrambling to explain himself. ‘For the summer.’
The base of your eyebrows drew together darkly. The amusement reverberating in your eyes dissolved into a slight annoyance. Your fingers traveled toward the curve of his chin, taking it into your possession in a rough matter it sends Oliver’s eyes to rounden in response. He was a sick, sick liar.
He corrected himself, in seconds. ‘For revenge.’
‘Revenge?’
Despite your concentration, you hadn’t realized the lack of distance placed between you and Oliver. The proximity is intoxicating. To the point in which you felt the soft exhale of his breath fan across the form of your painted lips. His scent disturbed the twist of white musk and dust in the air, catching you off guard.
You dipped your head further upward. A single breath away from his own. 
Oliver’s words scrambled from his parted lips, each syllable trembling. ‘Revenge.’ He confirmed with a singular breath.
That singular breath that was virtually snatched away from him as you captured those plump lips with your own. A warm hum of pleasure buzzes throughout your body, sensations setting your nerves on fire as your mouth brushes across his.
You retreated into yourself momentarily. Ears perked up as Oliver drew in a sharp intake of breath, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with a glimmer of euphoria. He inched forward. A small movement that confirmed the lust that sparks behind his hues. 
Honeyed heat circulated throughout your body as your lips locked with his own. Threads of that same heat were found within each movement of their mouths. Your cheeks burnt with stuffled anticipation. 
A soft, strangled noise reverberates toward the back of Oliver’s throat as your hands enter the proximity of his caramel-like locks. Soft to the touch, feathery. The pads of your fingers curled against his scalp. Curling. Tugging. Kisses growing with heat and passion, further and further until Oliver was a mess between your two palms.
Oliver virtually whined as you pulled away. The lipstick you had carefully applied the hour prior smeared across the edge of your oh-so-swollen lips.
The pad of your thumb ran across the form of your mouth, the crimson red dirting the length of her digit. She pulled a single finger along Oliver’s lips, smearing the remnants of the lipstick.
‘And what are you doing with my family’s heirlooms?’ You inquired, words soft with sensuality. Masking it with a casualty as you press onward. Thumb pressed immensely into the dimple of his cheek, ruddiness staining the ivory of his skin.
Oliver leaned into her touch. ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’
You knew that there was a nefarious nature in his intentions. You removed your hand entirely and raised to your feet on two heels. The sound of your soles meeting the oak floor echoes out, bouncing against the walls as you approach an ancient, traditional desk. Draped with a translucent cover. It was considered to be as old as the estate itself, yet you had no problem sitting all over it. 
Oliver watched in the process. Eyes rounded a remnant of a bashful doe. A spark of recognition appeared behind those eyes as you inclined a singular fingertip toward the space before you.
‘On your knees.’
You took a bound of pleasure watching as Oliver dropped before you. Those knees strained against the ground. Trickles of arousal unfolded in your abdomen, nerves set alight and anticipation fluid within you as he came eye-to-eye with the satin fabric that shielded your cunt. And it was hard to miss the stained wetness.
‘Y’know what? I don’t think Felix would be too happy if he–’
‘You can suck off my brother later, but you’re serving me now. Or everyone will know whatever betrayal you’re planning against them.’
Oliver choked back any other remaining protests. Witnessing as your undergarments rolled down your hips, down the curve of your thighs, sliding along your calves, and dangling from the top of your ankle. Exposing your womanhood entirely to him, your legs widened a little further. 
At the sight, Oliver leaned forward. Willing to comply. A foreign, almost animalistic thirst reflects in the light of his hues. Only halted by a singular palm. Your fingers propped atop the strewn locks atop his head, restraining him from reaching the wetness he yearned for. 
‘I’m gonna ask you this again, and this time you’re telling me the truth, bunny.’
Your words were slow. Diligently pronounced and purposeful with each syllable.
‘What are you doing with the heirlooms?’
‘I just need–’ His words escaped in fluent gasps. Your skin prickled as Oliver’s trembling breaths fanned your womanhood. ‘I just needed some dirt on Farleigh.’
‘Oh yeah?’
The length of a singular leg of yours gradually intertwined around Oliver’s shoulders. Your hand eased up as you nudged him closer toward you. He willfully allows you to guide him, nose practically touching the top of your mound. 
His words continued with a shuddered puff, eyes virtually glazed over.
‘Something that’ll disappoint your parents.’ Oliver dwells upon his reasonings further.
‘And Felix?’
He nods.
‘You dirty,  dirty dog.’
Those words only fuelled Oliver further. And before you could even consider knowingly degrading him once more, the searing heat of his tongue is pressed against the slickness of your folds. He works his mouth against your cunt, movements growing sloppier and sloppier as he basks in the sexual validation he receives. The length of your fingers find themselves in his hair once more, fluffed, brunette strands coddled around your fist as you squeeze your legs around him.
The pleasure that you receive from his mouth alone is indescribable. Honeyed, warm ecstasy maneuvers throughout you. That familiar space between your thighs aches, even as Oliver’s lips latch onto them. Merely fuelling the fire that runs hot underneath your skin, alighting your nerves on fire.
“Fuck…” You can feel him grin around you.
A finger shortly accompanies the consumption of his tongue. And Oliver’s fingers are undeniably long, pale fleshed worked down to the knuckle with the force of a few pumps. He adds another. Then another. Stealing a moan or two from the depths of your throat, forcing you to clamp your lips shut. If anyone walked in. Your cheeks burn at the thought.
You bucked your hips into his fingers as Oliver worked you open, curling into you without faltering. Plunging his digits into you, again and again until you were breathless. Calves curled around him, guiding him further and further toward your sensitivities. Welcoming his mouth back onto you once more.
Oliver’s lips latched longingly onto the little pearl lining your entrance. He murmurs sweet nothings into you, fingers easing their pace until you can only hear the subtle quickness of your heaving breaths. And his whispers. Whispers of how wet you are, and how much he longs to quench that thirst. Again and again. On his knees, basked in his most vulnerable state.
Just for you. Oliver both in time, curls his fingers and squeezes your bud. Unleashing a wave of fire that takes you by the throat, walls squeezing around the length as you come undone. Shockwaves virtually gripping you. Tremors guide you back from your high as both grunts and moans of approval escape you.
Oliver glows under the attention. He peers up at you, through the intensity of his thick lashes. Doe eyes blinking occasionally, innocently, as he pops those fingers into his mouth where he once tasted you. Suckling. Tongue flittering around the pad of his digits.
‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ Your words were more of a statement than an assumption. The pulsing of your newfound arousal doesn’t show in the slightest, only glimmering behind the intensity of your eyes.  You weren’t done with your bunny, not yet anyway.
Oliver’s fingers escape his lips with a reverberating pop. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
You reach downward briefly. Taking the lace of your panties with a single hand, guiding the garment around the base of your heels. Abandoning them on the dust-soaked floor. Those same heels meet that same grounding.
‘I didn’t take you for a fuckboy, bunny.” You practically spit, taking pride in how his eyes wobble slightly at the force of your filthy, filthy words. A short snap fills the room as you indicate your hand towards the oak tiles. 
‘On the floor.’
Oliver doesn’t say anything less, finding his body sprawled out before you. Essentially submitting himself to you in the process, something that ignites that oh-so-familiar heat in the pit of your belly. You stand over him, relinquishing in how he stares up at you, willing for you to do anything to him.
‘Pants off.’ Your words are snappy and insistent. You almost feel like that spoiled little one you used to be as a child, one who would get anything you would desire. ‘You don’t need them.’
Oliver’s fingers work to untangle his belt, loosening the dark fabric of his pants.  The material rolls down his hips, his hardness is immensely visible through the thinness of his boxers. The bulge accompanying the arousal that burns throughout your entire body, abdomen unfurling with that oh-so-familiar heat. 
You drop down toward him, legs clamped down on either side of Oliver’s thighs. You are squeezing them somewhat. The curve of your palm cups the fabriced nature of his manhood, causing a soft moan to escape him. 
‘[Y/N]...’ The broadness of Oliver’s hands grapple the frame of your hips, the warmth of his fingers curling around you. He virtually buckles up into you, against your bareness. A motion that causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smirk. 
‘Repeat my name, bunny.’ The pad of your fingers tease the rim of his boxers.
Oliver’s breath shudders. ‘I’m begging, [Y/N].’
A gradual, mocking roll of your eyes overtakes you nevertheless as you tug the thick material down. They roll and crinkle along the bottom of Oliver’s thighs, allowing for him to spring out for full reveality. For you and you alone. A low whistle fills the emptiness of the room as you observe his girth. Oliver is virtually trembling under the intensity of your gaze as you curl a fist around the length of his shaft, taking delight in how he buckled into you.
‘Be patient now.’ The words escape you with a scoff as you feign annoyance.
Oliver quietens in your demand. Alas, as you position yourself above him, you can still hear the raspiness of his breaths and the pleasure you take in the stink of desperation high in the air. He buries himself into you with a singular thrust, merely forcing a soft groan at the initial discomfort at he fills you. Stretches you out. Your hips slap against his own as you buckle up and down across his length, Oliver mimicking your movements to a tee.
You arch into him, soft noises of pleasure escaping you as he manages to claw ecstasy from you with every singular thrust. Your inner walls clutched around him, causing Oliver to drop his head back, gasping your name out as if it were a prayer. As if he were on the verge of life and death.
‘[Y/N]?’
‘Yes?’
It’s odd how the two of you presented the conversation as if you weren’t rutting your entire life and soul into him. Onto him. Oliver continues to writhe around some more, arching himself into you, again and again. The whiteness of his cheeks is notably flushed with arousal.
‘I’m about to –’
You slow down your pace until you’re merely mounting him, the lack of movement causing a groan of sexual frustration to claw from Oliver’s throat. The side of your thighs squeezes around his hips for extra exaggeration as you proceed to speak, merely unphased, even as you are reaching your release.
‘Jesus, Ollie, don’t be so fuckin’ greedy.’
You scold through hitched breath and hushed moans. His girth is warm inside you, and something about that is so utterly pleasing.
‘You aren’t to come unless you’ve pleased me enough.’
The demand causes Oliver’s head to loll back with esteemed annoyance, but he doesn’t say anything. It merely prompts the width of his hands to press into your hips, beginning to rock himself into you. It steals a moan out of your lips, but the sight of his desperation is a sight of see indeed. You arch further into him as he ruts against the exact spot that causes you to see stars.
The length of your hand folds around the back of his neck. ‘Right there, bunny, oh, you fuckin’ beast!’
Closer now. Closer now.
‘Say my name, [Y/N].’ Oliver heaves with strained breath, holding back on his orgasm has done numbers on him.
You wack him across the back of the head.
‘That’s my line, dickhead.’
Alas, the words barely escape your lips as the boiling and bubbling dam within you snaps and crashes. You dissolved into nothing but pure pleasure. Nevertheless, whatever you had said, Oliver’s name played on your lips in something that bordered screams. Tremors of ecstasy fill you as Oliver continues to pound into you, guiding you throughout your orgasm in your most vulnerable moment.
Aftershocks spark within you as you go limp, pulling yourself together with heaved breath and glazed eyes.
‘Have I pleased you enough, then?’
Oliver’s voice is hoarse, tearing you out of your orgasm-fuelled trance.
‘It’ll do, bunny.’
But before, Oliver can even consider his release. You rise from your previous position, his girth sliding out of you with ease, glistening with your slick. You tug the fabric of panties around your hips and back in place, glancing in a dust-covered mirror as you adjust your appearance. To make it seem as if you haven’t spent the past half hour having the life sucked out of you.
‘[Y/N] –’
Oliver’s protests rise in the air, falling upon deaf ears as you proceed to exit the room itself. The bottom of your heels thud against the wood-slicked tiles as you reenter the dining room, hope in hand. Your wordless wishes are fulfilled at once at the sight of Farleigh, who is window-watching, wine in hand.
‘Farleigh, thank God, I found you.’
Farleigh turns his head, bringing his glass to his lips.
‘What now?’ He’s waving away your presence entirely, it is clear.
As much as you despise this half of the family, you maintain a clear mind.
‘Oliver was rummaging through your mother’s heirlooms. I suggest you go, now. Heed my warning or not, I don’t care.’
A look of suspicion flashes across Farleigh’s face. His lips part momentarily in question before he thinks otherwise. Smart boy. Setting his wine down and immediately dashing past you. A yell or two sounds out a moment later, and your painted lips quirk upwards in pleasure.
You knew what Oliver was up to. It was clear from the first day you laid eyes upon the household’s guest. But no. It wasn’t up to Oliver to wipe out the Cattons from existence, even though he’d be doing the filthy work for you. It was admirable yes.
But it was your job. A job you strived to complete.
You slip your hand into the slight pocket in the fabric of your dress. Pulling out a small capsule. Your eyes narrow down on the glass of wine, vacant on the table. 
Starting with Farleigh. 
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WORD COUNT: 4K MASTERLIST REQ ME!
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