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#i have no idea how this got lost in my drafts
lightlycareless · 5 months
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so assuming that y/n and naoya are like far into the marriage and are getting along well. Do they fight every so often or are they the type of couple who rarely fight? 🤔
Heya anon!!
No relationship can go on with a few arguments here and there, but it's always about how the problem is approached rather than the problem itself (of course, there are certain limits to that but let's just go with the general)
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I would love to believe that Naoya and Y/N wouldn't argue that much, if ever, however, due to the nature of his clan and his duties, that might be impossible.
I don't know of this could be of any consolation, but most of the arguments would be for exterior causes. In other words, you and Naoya have a good relationship, unfortunately, some people are not that happy about it and they may try come in-between the two, to no avail.
When arguments for personal things do happen though, I think Naoya would distance himself immediately at the heat of the moment, leaving you high and dry. You'd also leave, not wanting to talk to him either.
But after a few minutes pass, maybe an hour or so, when both have cooled down, Naoya would be the first to approach you. He'd wrap his arms around you, and you'd remain there, silent, as if still angry with him but secretly enjoying his touch.
"Why are you here?" you ask, trying to appear as unaffected as possible.
"I missed my princess." he'd respond, resting his head on top of yours.
"... that's too bad." you murmur.
"I know; I wonder if she'll allow me to see her?" Naoya smiles, knowing well that you're not really angry with him.
"... what for?"
"I don't know, was thinking about getting something to eat." he begins. "And maybe, dessert."
He knows he's got you right where you want judging by the slightest tension of your shoulders.
"...depends on what we get." you say carefully.
"Whatever you want." he kisses the top of your head, you remain silent.
Naoya sighs.
"...I—I don't like arguing with you." he admits. "I don't like seeing you upset, less when it's because of me."
You turn around, looking up to him.
"Me neither." you frown, sadness in your voice. "It's... always supposed to be us versus the world, right? I don't... I don't want to be against you."
"I'll never be against you." Naoya reassures you. "No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side."
With watery and trembling lips, you pull Naoya into a tight embrace, keeping him there.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too." he wraps his arms around you, doing his best to not cry himself. "But don't worry your pretty little head about that anymore. Instead, think about what you want for dinner."
"Dinner... what, you think you can just buy my forgiveness with food?" you tease.
"And dessert too." he smirks, you pout.
"I guess... you make a compelling argument—can't argue with that."
"There's nothing to argue about, the sky's the limit when it comes to you" you blush, looking away before smiling.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
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jfc I— :( agkakjgjakg
Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Idk if you wanted more angst but, well, heheheh I just think that once Naoya finds his true love, a.k.a, you, he'll never, ever do things to hurt you (intentionally) and because you love him too, you'll never hurt him either :')
Take care!! And hope to see you soon 🥺❤️
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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months
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Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!
#cats#also hopefully it's not weird to still post photos of George (the brown cat) even after his death a little while ago. I just have so many#beautiful old pictures of him that I still love but just never had the time to sort through or upload (my cat photos folder on my#computer had like 450 pictures in it or something lol... SO many). I feel like it's kind of just honoring or appreciating him#and not actually strange or anything. like what am I supposed to do. delete them?? I want to share them still because he is beautiful and#perfect ! idk. aNYWAY. Also this is their 2022 birthday when they turned 14 years old. (even though I think when I posted#their 2021 bday I might have said they were 14 then too. I was off by a year lol). 2023 when they turned 15 I unfortunately#was feeling kind of sick at the time and didn't really have the energy to do the decorations like I usually do. So they just got a few#treats and stuff. But I didn't know that would be george's last birthday lol. :/#They also do not really know or care though. they're cats who cannot process it or know the concept of birthdays so. eh#I still have no idea how these got lost on the computer though. Like I had them fully edited ready to post but just sitting in a folder??#Since MARCH 2022 lol... ??? the folder was in another folder of pictures so maybe that's how I overlooked it#But it's my 'once every 4 months computer organizing and clean out time' so I was going tghrough looking for pictures#I could drafts posts out of or sort or etc.#They got lots more treats for this birthday because one of my friends actually game me a few gifts for them#elderly boys.!!!!#I used to write in the little caption/image description sections to talk about them all individually but at some point tumblr broke that#feature and for so long they never saved or weren't visible so I stopped doing them and just ramble a bunch in the tags instead#but I kind of miss them. Thinking about old posts of the cats where I commented on each photo individually too lol.. the good ole days
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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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ratkingszarr · 5 months
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Noctis wasn’t usually chosen to accompany Cazador to one of his parties but he had been well behaved lately. He didn't want Astarion to be punished for him again, so he'd started to cooperate.
He'd quickly proved himself as the Vampire Lord's best fighter in the cage, and he never turned up empty handed after a hunt anymore. This would be his first time accompanying to a formal event though.
"Why me? You never bring me." He mumbled, fidgeting in clothes that were too itchy and too formal for his tastes. "I'm sure Violet would love to accompany you."
He was certain she would. Violet begged and pleaded for the leash. Expressed a joy in receiving pain. Thus her punishment fit what tormented her most: the absence of his attention. A beautifully broken doll she was, but broken things were not nearly as much fun to toy with. “You don’t question my decisions, boy. This is a privilege.” To be let out of the palace walls and not set to hunt. A rare opportunity for even his spawn.
No, Noctis was to be a pretty decoration on his arm. A favor to hand out to the bored aristocrats of the gate. And they were so very, very bored. His latest spawn was a fresh face for them to fawn over. For Cazador to gain their favor and silence with his creation’s body.
“You will do as I say. You will not embarrass me or the house of Szarr. You will entertain them, and you will enjoy it.” Those were his commandments. The orders of the evening handed down through the compulsion between creator and creation. The flash of red in his eyes sealed those laws. Amendments to the four tenants of his house. Noctis would make a fine diversion for the baroness’ favor he wanted to court.
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scarletwix · 6 months
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Me writing The Price of Perfection at the beginning: Okay, i have to keep my headcanons to a minumum, I don’t want to alienate my readers.
Me writing the last 6 chapters: AND CALLISTO IS A BUTCH LESBIAN WERE-BEAR AND THEY SAVE THE DAY WITH THE POWER OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP AND THERAPY!
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dduane · 7 months
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Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?
I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.
I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.
I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?
Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.
Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:
It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)
Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?
Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.
So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.
It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.
Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).
And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.
You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)
The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)
Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.
(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)
Hope this helps!
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i-like-eyes · 2 years
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Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game
Didn't see a lot of artist ask games, wanted to make a silly one.
(I wrote this while sick out of my mind last year and it's been collecting dust in my drafts, I might as well let it run free) 1. Art programs you have but don't use
2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)
3. What ideas come from when you were little
4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw
5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself
6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)
7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate
8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in
9. What are your file name conventions
10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw
11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what
12. Easiest part of body to draw
13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing
14. Any favorite motifs
15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)
16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing
17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what
18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken
19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)
20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy
21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways
22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any
23. Do you use different layer modes
24. Do your references include stock images
25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by
26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended
27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with
28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)
29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically
30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated
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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Romance Headcanons
Some very random and very silly little headcanons about being in a relationship with the King of Hell, and likely the beginning of many more as I learn how to write for this darling cartoon that has consumed my entire brain.
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- He's one of the greatest flirts of all time, but with one enormous caveat: he has no ability to consciously flirt with anyone he's interested in. Quips and charming smiles come easy when he wants to banter with friends or taunt a foe, but when he starts to get feelings for you and actually attempts to be smooth, everything falls apart. All traces of his grace, power, and quick wit evaporate the instant he pulls his first move, and it only worsens the more flustered he becomes. His first attempt goes so badly that by the end more than a few things are on fire, and neither of you is entirely sure how. Thankfully, your receptiveness despite the disasters will build his confidence; and while he's never quite as smooth as when he's not trying, he does learn to make use of his charms whenever the moment calls for it.
- While at first he'll keep your relationship on the extreme down low, to the point of avoiding public dates and shows of affection, this is only so he can take the time to be sure you know and can fully agree to what you're getting into. Dating Lucifer Morningstar comes with a great many risks that don't ever go away, and he needs you to understand that while he'll do anything to keep you safe, your life will change forever once word gets out. The people of Hell are going to want to know all about their King's new lover, and he has more than a few enemies on multiple planes of existence you'll have to be wary of. As soon as he's convinced you're aware of the risks and accept them regardless, be prepared for him to make up for lost time and then some. He wants to take you on dates to Hell's most premier establishments, to have you on his arm for every single public appearance, and to proudly and boldly declare you to be his love whenever the opportunity presents itself.
- Genuine compliments go a long way with this man. Though he's got a very healthy sense of pride, he still very much enjoys praise, to the point of nearly giddy delight if he gets it from someone he's crushing on. This goes double if you catch him off guard. Expressing your awe when he unceremoniously summons a mundane item out of thin air will fluster him far more readily than even the most lascivious of flirtations, and he'll be riding the emotional high for the better part of a week. Praising his appearance has an even greater impact, and nothing puts a spring in his step quite like hearing how much you like his hair.
- Touch is one of his preferred love languages, second only to gifts and song. He likes to give as much as he does to receive, but as he's a little starved for affection, you'll find him very disproportionately affected by even the most chaste contact. The first time you try looping your arm through his, laying a hand on his shoulder, and even brushing up to his side he'll be deliriously happy. Once the gates are open, however, you can expect him to start initiating and upping the ante quite rapidly. He'll start taking your hand when it's available, cupping the small of your back as you walk at his side, and even pulling you in with his wings for a feathery embrace, and he doesn't stop there. Eventually, if you're amicable, he'll gladly offer his lap anytime you need a seat. This goes double if you're in public.
- Giving gifts is one of his favorite ways to express affection, but he doesn't just do so willy nilly, even if anything you could ask for will be provided in a heartbeat. Rather, he likes to surprise you by gifting something that you didn't even know you needed, and will spend a great deal of time noting what you need help with and drafting ideas to meet that need until he has the perfect solution. Being a craftsman with eons of experience and angelic powers means he can construct anything in the realm of imagination, and he'll use his skills to tune his creation to your particular tastes. All of this is done in secret to ensure you're surprised when he finally presents his creation. No matter how many hours he spends laboring over these gifts, your surprise and joy always makes it all worth it in the end.
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yzashaven · 16 days
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helloo, this is my first time requesting something but I have gotten obsessed with the way you write so-
I had this idea of a f!reader that is really not vocal in bed. And scaramouche absolutely GETS OFF to every little whimper and whine she makes because he doesn't hear it that often and makes an effort to hear *something* KDBDKDIEIDJD
Ok that's it, woohoo (with my luck i've already forgotten i even wrote this a day later so I'll just sign off with an M to remind myself, lmao)
~M
𝐌𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
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꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ scaramouche x fem!reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. cunnilingus. begging (both sides). fingering. penetration. kiss/bite marks. use of "baby" n "pretty girl". just the tip but not for long. he slaps his cock on your pussy like once + slight pussyjob?! (think that's it :3)
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ he just wants to hear your cute little moans. is there really something wrong with that?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄—this was actually drafted like... a few days ago?? i don't remember when but suddenly, now, at a random time of 4am i felt like finishing it so here u go !! might be a bit off or something cuz i did it while half awake 😭 LMAO [not proofread]
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he's trying his best, he really is. all he wanted was to hear your pretty moans that tell everything he needs to know—that he's making you feel good.
scaramouche's tongue laps up your dripping arousal as his hands held your thighs apart. a soft sigh could be heard from him upon dragging a finger along your slit. that same finger soon enters your hole and finally, you let out a small moan. your voice was barely above a whisper yet he still heard it, "please moan for me, baby," scaramouche says and dips his head back down in between your legs. he plants a gentle kiss to your clit before speaking up again, "i really want to hear your pretty voice." he sounds almost... desperate.
he brings in another finger inside your pussy, curling them up at the perfect angle that he was sure would let you let out some kind of sound.
but all he got was silence.
a frown forms upon his lips but he won't give up. he leans down to suck on your clit all the while maintaining eye contact as much as possible. a deep blush appears across your cheeks, radiating heat on your skin. his hand makes it way to yours to guide it towards his head. you oblige in his obvious wishes and let your fingers tangle in the soft locks of his hair.
scaramouche pushes his fingers a bit deeper within you, in hopes that the tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot ever so slightly. he wants you to be all needy for him. surely that'll get you talking, right?
after some time, he found himself already lost in the sounds of your cute whimpering whenever he thrusts his fingers inside. "...'m cumming, scara..." you quietly gasp out as he began to absolutely devour you. he's acting like he hasn't eaten in days (which he doesn't even need to do!) "cum on my tongue, baby. cum for me."
you let the waves of pleasure wash over your body and bit by bit, moans began to continuously be drawn out from you. he smiles and lets out a low groan; upon standing up, you could clearly see how hard he was as he was stroking the length of his cock. slowly working it up from the base up to the tip.
he teasingly slaps his cock against your folds, eliciting a few good whimpers from you. since he felt like teasing you further, he slides the length of his dick along your slit. the head of it entering your hole every now and then but never fully settling inside you.
"tell me you want it." he spoke in a low and sultry tone.
"i want it." you replied upon throwing the last bit of your dignity out of the window, "i want you, scara. please..." a soft smile curls up his lips. affectionate kisses on your forehead and temples as he easily slid his cock inside. every sweet little sound you let out seems to drive him a little more crazier.
scaramouche's thrusts were slow, yet deep and precise—making sure that you felt pleasure rather than any hints of pain. "fuck, scara..." the way you gasped out his name with so much need laced in your voice. he fucking loves it.
"let me hear you some more, pretty girl." he whispers in between soft kisses on your collarbone as he felt like marking you with his kiss and bite marks. the feeling of that along with the head of his dick reaching your deepest parts sent shivers throughout your body.
he's glad to know that he's making you feel good.
and now he wants to fill you up for being such a good girl, all for him.
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kayjayjwrites · 1 month
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Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One
Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.
Chapter Word Count: 6,350
Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie
Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!
Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~
It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.
Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.
They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.
It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.
Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle. It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.
Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.
Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.
You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.
The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.
It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.
You would take the job.
Not to be a spy for Kier.
Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.
It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.
But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.
However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.
It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.
That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.
You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.
It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a couple years into your career.
The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.
Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.
Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.
When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.
And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.
Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.
When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.
Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.
And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.
Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”
Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”
“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”
The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”
“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”
Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”
You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”
You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”
He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”
You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.
“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.
If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.
“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.
Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.
XxXx
Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.
Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.
“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.
The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.
“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.
But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”
“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.
“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”
You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.
“You forgot your bag.” He observed.
Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”
“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.
“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”
If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.
You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.
“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”
He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”
His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.
Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?
Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.
He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?
“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.
Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.
A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”
“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.
Subtle.
Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.
What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.
And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.
So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.
Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.
Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.
Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over two years of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.
So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over him.
You know, simple.
The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.
Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.
Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.
He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?
Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.
"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.
You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.
Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.
It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.
Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.
"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.
It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.
You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.
He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.
Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.
Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.
Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.
Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.
He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.
Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.
Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.
Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remains.
Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”
Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!
He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"
Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.
You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.
Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.
"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.
"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.
"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.
He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."
You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.
Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.
He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”
You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.
"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.
You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.
The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.
You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.
"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"
"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.
You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."
Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.
Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.
And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.
And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.
XxXx
Next Chapter
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hockeybabe · 27 days
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Family Skate | M.Knies
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Not my gif
Parings: Matthew Knies x gf!reader
Summary: you and mattthew are new to the dating scene and he makes it official to the public by inviting you to the family skate.
Warnings: pure fluff, swearing, insecurities, kissing, slight cocky Knies, ngl rushed af
Word count: 756
Note: this has been in my drafts for a while. Also requests are open, send them in! And I saw Olivia Rodrigo!!!!
The moment you met Matthew, you two instantly clicked. You had lived in Toronto your entire life working for the leafs. To the team you were like their little sister and the John well you were like his kid. When the leafs called up Matthew you had lost your apartment and John was there to help you.
So gradually you lived with the Tavares residence, along with Matthew becoming professional babysitters for John and Aryne. But what the outside world didn’t know was that you and Matthew were a little more involved with each other than just friends. 
You were a couple. One that you kept away from the world because of people not always being accepting. It was your idea. You had seen it happen to so many and while they could handle it; you weren’t sure you could. However, after multiple talks with Aryne and other girlfriends, they finally convinced you to be shown off.
And what better to have it done at the family skate.
“Babe, you ready.” Matt called for you pulling on his jersey. “Yeah.” You said fixing you scarf and pulling your hair out. “How do I look.” You turned around showing him your outfit which consisted of a handmade leafs jacket with his name on it and black leggings. 
Matthew stared down at you with a cheeky smile gabbing you hands at your sides and leant down giving you a kiss. “You look perfect.” He mumbled. “We should probably get going.” He said heading for the door. As he walked away you slowly feel your nerves creeping up. Matthew notices you lack of presence.
“Y/n,” he calls out. “Everything alright?” He asks once you come to the door. “What if they don’t like me?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs. “Who’s not gonna like you?” He asks clueless making you groan. “The fans, you dummy.” You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. “What are they gonna do? You’re mine and I’m yours. They’re just gonna have to accept that.” He says, putting loose hair behind your ear.
“But-” “If they judge, they judge don’t let them tear you apart. I love you.” He says, opening the door. “I love you too.” You mumble. “What was that?” You groan, “I love you too.” You said louder. “That’s my girl.” He said, watching you exit the house and getting into the car.
Once you guys got to the rink, you trailed behind Matthew as he waved to the fans what you didn’t expect were the amount of fans calling your name. You had no clue how they knew who you were, but they were cheering for you.
“Looks like you don’t need to impress anyone.” Matthew turned around, looking down at you with a smirk. You gave him a smile, tightening your grip on his hand as you gave shy waves to the fans. When you finally got to the rink, you sat beside Steph. “Looks like they love you.” She commented.
“Could be a facade.” You shrug. “Fans are brutally honest about liking people. I guess they realized that because you've been dating for a while, then there’s nothing they can do.” She said as she watched Mitch and Matthew grab their girl's skates.
“Hi baby,” Matt said, kneeling down and tying your skates as you told him when it was tight enough. “You know you’re going to be dragging me everywhere, right?” You laugh. Matthew chuckled, “I got you.” Once your laces were fully tied, you took his hands and walked to the rink.
Matthew set foot into the ice first and took your hands, holding you tightly as you slightly wobbled in his grasp. “You doing great.” He cheered as he strides across the ice, pulling you with him. When the two of you passed close by the fans, they’d gush about how cute you two looked.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look with rosy cheeks?” He smirked, making you blush. “I would slap your chest, but I’d probably fall.” You grunt. “And now you’re saying you’ll fall for me. How great.” He gave you a goofy smile, making you groan.
“Thank you.” You said to him. “For what?” He asked, confused. “For letting me see past the negatives. I love you.” You said quietly. “What was that?” He said, leaning down. “I love you.” “I love you too.” He responded by leaning down giving you a kiss as the other players' sticks clacked with the ice as they cheered with their partners. 
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marimogf-archived · 6 months
Note
hiii can i request ino and no21 please? 🙏🏼 thank u <3
anon you're so real for this 🫣 i love ino sm, i have another draft for him <3
prompt: 21. sex tape
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, sex in front of a camera, reverse cowgirl position, cunnilingus, fingering, ino being the best bf ever :(, use of petnames (baby, babe, slut); wc: 893 words
as always, feedback and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy!! 💗
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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"please, baby?"
takuma was basically on his knees, begging you. he would be gone for a week because of a big mission. you looked at him sternly, arms crossed.
“please let me film it, just this once,” he whined, “i don't know how i’ll survive this week otherwise.”
your eyes narrowed, focused on your boyfriend’s puppy dog eyes. you were unsure of his idea but at the same time, the premise of being filmed while fucking had you rubbing your thighs together.
“okay fine,” you stated, crossing your arms. "but not a word to anyone."
“yes, of course.” he straightened up into a salute and grinned.
that conversation was on the back of your mind while your boyfriend was between your thighs, slurping like a man starved. the tripod with the camera was right in front of you but you couldn't focus when takuma was bringing you to your second orgasm already.
as a second finger slid inside you, he looked up at your blissful expression and grinned.
“who would've thought my baby would be so turned on by being filmed?” he teased, his thick fingers pressing against the spongy spot in your walls.
you let out gasps and whines of pleasure, back arching as the knot in your stomach tightened.
“f-fuuuckkk, feels so good…”
the sounds that left your lips paired with the slick squelch of your pussy around his fingers made takuma grind against the mattress, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. there's nothing he loved more than eating you out and seeing you in pleasure. he could get off to your sound, your smell, your taste alone.
his lips found your clit as he kept abusing your cunt and you came almost immediately, gushing and twitching around his digits. tears burned in your eyes as you rode out your high. you looked completely fucked out, sweat bringing a light sheen to your hot skin.
his fingers slid out of you with a wet pop and he licked them clean as he watched you come down from your orgasm. takuma got up from the bed, pulling down his boxers. his dick slapped against his stomach, tip already red and leaking.
your hand reached towards him, giving him a few strokes that made his head loll back and a soft “fuck” leave his lips. he sat down against the headboard, pulling you on top of him. your back was toward him and you gripped his length, guiding it towards your leaking cunt.
you slowly sank down on takuma’s cock, the stretch delicious as always. a low groan was heard from behind you as his hands were gripping your hips. you were sure you’d have bruises tomorrow. he bottomed out, dick twitching inside you as you gyrated your hips slowly to get used to his length. you leaned back, hands finding purchase on his abs.
the camera captured the glint of your arousal on his cock as you slowly lifted your hips before setting a leisure pace that wouldn't exhaust you too fast. one of your boyfriend’s hands slid up your body to fondle your breast, pinching your nipple between his calloused fingers.
“so good, baby, you feel so – ugh – fucking good. y’r pussy’s made for me,” he grunted, looking directly into the camera lens and smirking.
mewls left your lips as hips moved faster, the tip of his cock pressing against your g-spot. stars flashed behind your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure.
“gonna cum again, gonna – a-ah fuck!” you whimpered as you felt yourself clenching.
“show the camera how good you feel. come on, cum on my cock like a little slut, baby. doing so good f’me,” takuma moaned, sliding his hands between your thighs to rub your swollen clit.
your eyes screwed shut as his hips started drilling into you from below. paired with his circles on your clit, it took but seconds to come undone on his dick. an hoarse scream ripped through your throat, vocal chords tired from all the moaning.
takuma slowed his hips down, rolling them slowly into you to ride out your high.
“so good, 'kuma. y’feel so good,” you panted from above him. he grinned and leaned forward to kiss your shoulder blade tenderly. “yeah?”
you looked into the camera, squinting when you didn't see the little red lamp that would indicate that it was recording.
your hips were still moving languidly against his, his tip kissing your cervix deliciously.
“‘kuma, i think the camera isn't recording,” you whimpered as you lifted off of him, feeling suddenly empty. you leaned forward and checked the battery.
it was fucking empty. you had recorded maybe half of your endeavours.
he laughed and got up, slicked up cock hanging heavy between his legs as he pulled the camera off the tripod and started charging it. when he made sure that it was charging, he got back on the bed behind you, phone in hand.
takuma’s hand gripped your hip, pulling your swollen cunt against his hard shaft. your back arched against him, a small moan leaving your lips. you looked back at him as he smirked, turning on his camera and pressing the recording button. the camera captured the moment his cock slid into your swollen cunt and low moans leaving the both of you.
“guess we gotta do it all over again, no?”
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a/n: i'm so sorry for not posting anything for like three weeks, covid as well as other things took a big toll on me. hopefully i'll be back in my groove soon!! i honestly can't say i'm super satisfied with this but oh well. thank you to @etherealxmaya for reading this over! tagging @jabamin to share my brainrot teehee <3
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Property of Leo Valdez
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content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warning: major references to sexual stuff (like integral part of the story, folks), language, aged up for obvious reasons probs like 19-20 ish, author's note: i know for a fact I didn't completely come up with this concept myself. I saw a headcanon a few months ago that mentioned this idea and then i wrote it into a full fic bc i loved it so much. and I have since lost it, which is more than a little disappointing bc i would love to give credit where credit is due. if any of yall run into it, lemme know and i'll give them credit. anyways, i figured we could use a full fic in after all those hcs!! this was just collecting dust in my drafts so let's full send this baby.
leo and y/n weren’t really ones to follow the rules. it goes all the way back to their time on the argo ii. after coach hedge was gone and buford the table was put in charge, y/n had started to have really intense nightmares. like, wake-the-whole-ship-up-with-screams intense nightmares. she stopped sleeping in hopes of avoiding it. one night, she had been talking to leo, where she promptly passed out against his shoulder. it was the first peaceful night she’d had in a long time, they both knew that. so, y/n started spending her nights in leo’s room. it only took a little bit of rigging of buford to leave them alone. easy enough of a task for leo. it was a habit they couldn’t seem to break, slowly being unable to sleep without the other being in the same room.
it worked out just fine on the argo ii, but back at camp half-blood was different. chiron had noticed the closeness between the two and sat them down, reminding them of curfews and how campers of the opposite sex weren’t allowed in other cabins. he was basically letting them know he had his eyes on them. it scared the couple off for less than a week.
it started with them sleeping in bunker nine, figuring it to be a loophole. then, following a late night on the beach, y/n begged leo to spend the night with her in the poseidon cabin. he couldn’t say no to her puppy eyes, but he was slightly worried he was gonna drown on his own spit the whole night. they typically tried to avoid the hephaestus cabin whenever they could, too many of leo’s siblings around at all times. still, there were times in which percy wouldn’t let leo into the poseidon cabin, earning him a pillow to the back of his head from y/n. which is why they still frequented bunker nine, just like tonight. leo and y/n walked back to the poseidon cabin, only to be beaten by percy and annabeth, causing percy to guard the door with a small frown.
“sorry, coves, but we got here first,” he mused, to which y/n stuck her tongue out at the younger boy.
“i still hold seniority,” y/n whined, leaning into leo’s side as she crossed her arms.
“yeah, by like a few months,” percy argued back, rolling his eyes.
“so what?! that still counts!” y/n insisted, glaring at the younger boy.
“come on, coves, we’ll go,” leo interjected before the two actually started fighting, giving the girl a warm smile. she huffed, turning around to head to bunker nine before stopping right before percy closed the door. she bounded up the few steps, wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug.
“sleep well, dude,” she said, in hopes of clearing the air. she knew they weren’t actually fighting but she didn’t like going to bed with even a hint of a fight.
“you too,” he replied, giving her a squeeze and smile before heading into their cabin. y/n quickly caught up to leo, wrapping her hands around his arm as they snuck their way into the woods towards bunker nine.
it wasn’t too long of a walk, the time flying as they quietly laughed among themselves, enjoying the night so far. leo pushed the door open, gesturing for her to walk through in front of him. y/n patted his chest as she passed, heading towards the dorm area that was off the side of the main garage area. y/n was pulling her hair out of the braid it had been in all day, her hair naturally laying against her camp half-blood shirt. leo smiled at this, catching up and wrapping his hands around her waist from the back, laying his hands flat against her stomach and pressing his lips against her neck.
“what are you doing, valdez?” y/n breathed out, her breath hitching slightly as he gently sucked against her pulse point. she could feel the smirk of his lips against her skin, causing her smile to widen as well.
“hopefully? you,” he replied and y/n laughed, leaning back against him, allowing his hips to meet with her lower back. a groan left his lips at this action and y/n smirked before pulling away from his loose grip, putting an extra sway into her hips, just to piss him off.
“w-where are you going, cariño? Get back here,” leo argued, eyes snapping open as he followed after the girl. she turned a blind corner and he followed, just in time to catch her tugging her shirt off. she looked over her shoulder at him, walking backwards towards the bed in just her bra and denim shorts.
“what? did the repair boy lose his cool?” she mocked, tilting her head at him. leo shook his head, taking quick steps towards her and settling his hands against her waist, pulling her hips against his with a smirk.
“no, no. but, i’m gonna make you wish i had lost my cool,” he muttered in response, moving a hand up to cup the girl’s breast through her lace bra. a moan gets caught in her throat, y/n throwing her head back. he smirked, pulling her closer and planting kisses against her skin.
“leo,” she breathed out, a huff following as the boy unbuttoned her shorts and pulled the zipper down tantalizingly slowly. she shoved her hands under his shirt, running them over his lower abdomen, slowly lifting the shirt as her hands went higher. leo laughed lightly at her, pulling away from her marked skin as he grabbed the shirt and pulled it the rest of the way off, flinging it somewhere into the room. once the shirt was off, she smashed her lips against his, earning a shocked noise from the boy.
“y/n, gods,” he all but groaned, leaning forwards as she leaned back before they plopped down onto the bed. y/n laughed, looking up at leo as she breathed in heavily. he was using his arms to keep himself from completely putting his body weight on her.
“you look so good under me, baby,” leo whispered and y/n smiled up at him, gently setting a hand against his cheek.
“i gotta admit, the view’s pretty good from down here, too,” she replied back, leo breathing out a laugh before closing the distance between them once more. this ended a few hours later, the pair a tangled mess of limbs under the covers, leo’s body curled around y/n’s. the next morning, leo was jolted awake by a loud banging in the bunker, the boy hazily looking out the door leading to the room, being met by festus, who puffed smoke out of his metallic nostrils. leo huffed, sitting up and glaring over at the metal dragon, but ensuring that y/n was completely covered.
“festus, dude, keep the noise down. didn’t get much sleep last night,” leo yawned, glaring over at the dragon before glancing at the nearby alarm clock, instantly waking up as he saw the time.
“shit. y/n, honey, you gotta wake up,” leo muttered, gently but also rapidly trying to wake the sleeping girl. y/n tried to ignore him, attempting to nuzzle into the sheets. normally, leo’d just let her sleep in but he couldn’t today. he took another panicked glance at the clock before reaching onto the bedside time and grabbing the water bottle he kept there for safety reasons. just in case y/n ever got hurt in the bunker, he’d have a way to make it go away. he unscrewed the cap before dumping it on her, the girl shooting up with a gasp before glaring over at him.
“leonidas samuel valdez! you’re dead to me!” she screamed, flicking the water that she could off onto him.
“yeah, you can thank me when you’re not late to training with the hermes cabin,” leo barked back, jumping out of the bed and tugging on a pair of jeans. y/n leaned over, looking at the clock before her face went pale.
“shit.” “that’s what i said. Get dressed,” leo stated, throwing her an orange shirt before he scrambled to a wardrobe and pulled out a shirt for himself, rapidly doing the buttons.
“no, like, i’m gonna be in serious shit, leo. fuck me,” y/n whined, pulling the shirt on and pushing the neckline off to one side as it was baggy before reaching for a pair of shorts that she left a few weeks ago, refusing to put the ones from last night on.
“already did, baby, that’s how we got here,” leo muttered back, earning him a smack to the back of his head as she ran past, tugging on her shoes as she went.
“ow!” he called after her, grabbing his belt and resting it against his waist as he glared after her, the girl flipping her hair so she could put it in a high ponytail.
“you earned that one, hot head,” she bit out, tying her hair up and making to sprint out the door before turning back and giving the boy a rushed kiss against his lips.
“sorry. i had fun last night and while this sucks, i wouldn’t trade last night for anything,” she told him, offering a quick smile before moving to leave.
“me too. but, uh, y/n?” leo called, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.
“what?” she asked, hopping as she tied the laces on one shoe. “put your hair down. you have, uh, a few…” leo trailed off, gesturing to his own neck in reference. y/n groaned, pointing back at the boy with one hand while the other pulled her hair down.
“back on the naughty list, valdez,” she shouted, sprinting out of the bunker before leo could stop her again. and he truly did try, noticing his fatal mistake as the girl spun around. it wasn’t her shirt he’d thrown to her, but rather one of the extras he kept around for himself. he mainly kept it as a throw away shirt to wear while he worked, something he didn’t mind rubbing grease all over. it was old and well loved, which is why the neckline was so saggy. and proudly printed on the back in his handwriting were the words ‘property of leo valdez.’ initially meant as a way to keep his grabby siblings away from his shirts, but now its meaning made leo’s heart soar and cringe at the same time. man, he was in for a big lecture when she noticed.
“sorry i’m late, just caught up doing stuff,” y/n huffed as she ran into the archery area, quickly picking up a bow and quiver of arrows. she spun around and squinted her eyes at the hermes kids before zeroing in on the stoll brothers. she jutted her hip out and gave them a pointed look.
“what?” “does ‘stuff’ go by the name of leo?” connor asked, causing the rest of the hermes kids to burst into laughter. that was quickly interrupted by an arrow grazing the boy’s shirt, ripping a clean hole next to his ribs. connor looked up, mouth dropped and eyes wide as he was met with y/n, still holding her bow towards him, a new arrow notched.
“wanna try again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy. connor swallowed thickly before shaking his head. y/n lowered her bow, rolling her eyes.
“thank you. now, let’s get started, yeah? unless anyone has any last smartass comments they’d like to share with the class?” y/n dug in, crossing her arms, scouring the crowd for a moment before allowing a smile to grace her lips as she clapped her hands together, “Great! now, who wants to learn how i hit connors shirt without hitting him?”
the hermes kids were quick to learn and the lesson finished fast, leaving y/n to clean up. she was unsticking the arrows from the hay bales and thought back on the hermes kids. she figured maybe the shirt had grease on it or something that she couldn’t see. y/n began making her way towards her cabin in hopes of changing into a new shirt when she ran into percy, who immediately did a double take upon seeing his sister's shirt.
“you’re joking,” percy bit out in shock, staring at his sister with a rage she had never seen directed at her before. y/n jumped at his voice, pressing a hand to her chest.
“what?! why so much attitude, this is literally the first time i’ve seen you today-” y/n argued, pushing her hair out of her face while she tried to catch her breath.
“nope. nope. let’s go, y/n, now,” percy insisted, grabbing the girl by her shirt and dragging her towards the forge. he was muttering curses under his breath and y/n was so confused, trying to get him to let go of the shirt.
“percy?! what the hades! let go-” y/n shouted as he finally let go, the girl stumbling to stay up right as they were at the doors to the forge, catching the attention of all the hephestus kids in there. leo turned his head too, before wincing at the sight before him.
“this better be a fucking joke, valdez. start laughing or i start stabbing,” percy growled and leo held his hands out, trying to sooth percy.
“look, i thought it was her shirt! i didn’t know which one it was, i’ve got so many of those damn shirts! it was honestly an accident. come on, percy,” leo insisted, taking small steps away as percy walked forwards. y/n’s brows furrowed more as she looked down at the shirt, not seeing anything wrong with it.
“you let my sister walk around with that shit on her back!? i’m gonna kill you,” percy argued, pointing back at y/n, who’s head tilted. leo shrunk even more, swallowing thickly.
“she still doesn’t know?” he asked, his voice pitchy. percy then spun around to his sister too, eyes wide.
“what- wait a second-” y/n huffed before taking one of the nearby shields and setting it up, using the metal as a sort of mirror. the two watched her read it and she looked back at leo with a gaze he couldn’t quite read. then, she burst into laughter, tears quickly pooling in her eyes as she clutched her stomach. percy and leo shared a glance, equally confused.
“uh, baby? you’re-…you’re not mad?” leo questioned, tilting his head at her. y/n wiped away some of her tears, still trying to catch her breath.
“no, i am,” she replied, still giggling a bit, “but- i almost made connor stoll look like a pincushion over this shirt.”
“so you’re fine with that being advertised?” percy asked, crossing his arms with a frown. y/n was finally calming down and she rolled her eyes at him, still smiling though.
“i mean, the shirt’s not wrong,” she shrugged, patting his shoulder as she walked past. she then poked a finger into leo’s chest, now frowning at him.
“though, if you ever let me walk out in this shirt again, i’m throwing you in the lake. Got it?” “yes, ma’am.” “damn straight. now, i’ve got to go change then get lunch. i’ll see ya boys,” y/n said, pressing a kiss to leo’s cheek before walking off. once she was far enough away, percy smacked leo’s chest, causing the boy to keel over.
“what was that for??” “dunno. i’ll tell you when i find a reason,” percy shrugged, walking away.
the day carried on. leo was quick to find y/n before lunch, pressing kisses after kisses to her cheek as an apology. y/n eventually pushed him off with a laugh as they walked into the dining pavilion. they got their plates together but parted ways since they had to sit with their cabins. y/n pulled her hair back, eyeing the honey on her sandwich since she didn’t want it in her hair. percy started speaking as she sat down, yet to look at her though.
“so, i was thinking maybe we should do a movie night-” he stopped as he looked up, his eyes catching on the hickeys that littered his sisters neck, his eyes twitching. the neck of her shirt was cut off, allowing it to slip off her shoulder and her hair was tied back, allowing him to see all of them. y/n looked up as he stopped speaking before following his gaze. her eyes widened and she jumped out of her seat.
“percy-” “three,” he started, calmly wiping his hands and pushing his seat back. y/n yelps before moving towards the hephestus table, quickly gaining leo and everyone else’s attention too.
“we’ve got to go. now! move it, fire boy!” y/n insisted, grabbing hold of his arm and tugging him up.
“what-” leo argued, letting her drag him though.
“two,” percy continued, pulling his pen out of his pocket, inspecting it like he had all the time in the world. leo’s eyes widened as they landed on y/n’s neck then twisted back to percy.
“yeah, running’s a good idea. Go, Go, Go!” he agreed, quickly taking the girl with him.
“one,” percy muttered before jumping up and chasing after the couple.
“i’m gonna kill you! it’s gonna be painful! you’re gonna wish you never met her!” he yelled after them.
“never!” leo shouted back with a laugh, dragging the girl behind him.
author's note cont. : for once in my life, i have nothing more to say. the yapper has been silenced. you guys are free fr
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sinfullyrosey · 9 months
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Shrimpmer!Reader
Floyd Leech X GN!Shrimpmer!Reader X Jade Leech
Warnings: Mild Violence, Brief Mentions of Accurate Shrimp Cleaning Methods (kind of gross)
I literally had written up a mini fic showcasing the tweels first meeting Shrimper!Reader… and lost it. Have no idea where it is. Searched through my drafts and got pissed, so just started over from scratch.
Can be read as platonic but with a lot of sus behavior ngl
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The Basics (aka an Introduction to Shrimpmer!Reader)
Shrimpmer!Reader is a cleaner shrimp, a type of shrimp known for cleaning off parasites, algae, insects, and other bad stuff from fish. They’ve even been known to eat the mucus and infectious material around a fish’s wound to reduce infection and aid in healing. There are different species of cleaner shrimp, ‘scarlet skunk’ or ‘white-striped’ cleaner shrimps being known for cleaning the mouths of moral eels specifically.
Shrimpmer!Reader specifically comes from a family of cleaner shrimps that have a long-standing business partnership with the Leeches. Their family provides their cleaning and patch-up services to better the mereels’ health and heal any injuries, and in turn, the Leeches provide protection. It’s a mutualistic relationship where both benefit. And congrats, they were assigned to the tweels when they were but a mere fry and twins were still little elvers.
But what is it that Shrimpmer!Reader does exactly? Well, they have a cleaning station set up (i.e. a flat rock for the tweels to lay on while they work) and they go over the twins’ body, ridding it of any parasites and other debris. Picking at their scales and skin like a fine-tooth comb. They’ll even clean their sharp teeth using specialized brushes and tools to make sure nothing is stuck and strengthen the dentin (real shrimp physically go inside eel’s mouths, but shrimpmers are too big for that). Whenever the twins come to them with an injury after one of their scuffles, Shrimpmer!Reader will clean and disinfect the wound, being sure to remove any parasites, then wrap up the wound to heal faster.
In terms of anatomy and size difference, Shrimpmer!Reader is much smaller compared to the twins, but not on the same scale difference as real shrimps and moray eels. They’re not tiny enough to fit in their mouths but are small enough to be carried with ease. The best comparison I can give is like with the dwarves and Neige, but the tweels’ eel forms are much bigger compared to regular humans, so Shrimpmer!Reader would be shorter compared to a human as well. Floyd would joke about them being “child-sized.” Just like the Octatrio, their bottom half is that of a white-striped cleaner shrimp while the rest of their body has the matching miscolored skin, fin ears, and a pair of long, white antenna on the top of their head. No, their hands aren’t claws/pincers, but they do have sharp nails that aid in cleaning.
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The Shrimp and the Eels Headcanons
Like mentioned above, Shrimpmer!Reader was assigned to Floyd and Jade back when they were all still children. Each new generation of Leech ends up being assigned a cleaner shrimp who are around the same age so that they can grow together and build a proper symbiotic bond. You just ended up unlucky ‘cause Mr. and Mrs. Leech had twins and you were the only available one in your family at the time. A two for one deal, as it were.
Rough first meet (the twins are asses even back then), but you eventually adjusted and they learned how much they actually enjoy getting all those nasties off of them. You were gentle and efficient, it was very soothing, almost therapeutic to them. But it was only after one particular cleaning where Floyd came to you, a week after he got into a fight, wound infected and riddled with parasites, that they fully realized just how much they needed you. Neither twin skipped a cleaning or wound treatment after that.
You are tiny and not built for fighting, so the twins are more than happy to do so for you!~ Some predator is stalking you, trying to get a taste? Floyd is already grabbing them by the tail, pulling them away from you and towards his own dangerously sharp jaws. Another merperson is bulling you, picking on your smaller size? Jade’s looming right behind, tail at the ready to squeeze the life out of them. Most of your patch-up work was from attending to their wounds sustained in fights defending you.
Floyd and Jade both have their tails wrapped around some poor, unfortunate soul who was pulling on your antenna. Jade is taunting the crying fry while Floyd is “playfully” biting their tail fins.
“Jade, Floyd, let them go already. You’re going to get in trouble…”
You do meet Azul later on, though never quite befriend him per say. His contracts made you uncomfortable and untrusting of his intentions. In turn, Azul was stiff and reserved around you on the account of the overly protective eels threatening to chew his tentacles off if he tried anything.
You’re not a student at NRC nor a student of RSA. Magic isn’t your forte (or your concern really), the tweels are. Which is why you do visit the schoolgrounds frequently, especially after the two (mainly Floyd) start complaining about “needing their shrimp.” They’re not even in their eel forms most of the time, but they do still get into fights and the nurse on staff isn’t good enough.
Congrats, you’re now the Leech’s designated Health Support Cleaner Shrimp, or whatever bullshit the twins pulled out of their tails when forcing requesting to Crowley that you be allowed to stay at Octavinelle! Double congrats, because you also work at Mostro Lounge as a janitor because you literally clean for a living!
In your human form, you are much shorter than most of the other students and you have two long cowlicks that resemble your antenna. You aren’t the biggest fan of this form, finding two legs to be difficult to navigate, especially since you kind of skipped the prep class. Floyd was impatient and claimed him and Jade would just teach you themselves. An unwise decision really.
I mean, you could also just request to have the potion adjusted so you can be taller too, I guess idk the twins aren’t going to tell you that.
You sometimes turn back into your merform with the tweels and swim together because you miss it. Floyd definitely missed curling his tail around his little shrimp and pinning you down with his much bigger size. He especially loves to flip you on your back and watch your little feetsies wiggle around in a panic.
Jade misses the cleanings more than anything else. Being a vice dormleader while also working at a lounge and doing schoolwork is stressful for one eel. So, being able to just relax and have you attend to him while he prattles on about mushrooms is absolute heaven. That’s not to say he doesn’t mess with you either. Jade will gladly use your height against you by putting your cleaning supplies on a higher shelf, so you’re forced to ask him for help, teasing you all the while.
No, you can’t clean anybody else, merfolk or otherwise. Only them. Azul almost lost a tentacle after suggesting such a thing when he noticed business was running slower.
You’re their cleaner shrimp, and they’re your eels. Anybody aware of the Leech’s influence know to back off lest they end up missing under mysterious circumstances.
Oh yeah, and the tweels, at some point, made it a habit to kiss you after you finished cleaning them under the guise of you “cleaning their teeth.” It’s become something so casual between you three now that when Azul caught sight of the twins and you locking lips, he nearly fell over at not realizing the three of you were (supposedly) an item.
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tojiscumdumpster · 3 months
Text
⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai
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✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.
✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.
✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.
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I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 
 I won.
 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.
 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.
 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 
 But fighting is all I know. 
 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.
 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 
 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 
 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 
 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 
 Shit, me too. 
 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 
 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.
 Great.
 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 
 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.
 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”
 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.
 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”
 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”
 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”
 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 
 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”
 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”
 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 
 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 
 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 
 Me. But that’s besides the point.
 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 
 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 
 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.
 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 
 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 
 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”
 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”
 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 
 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.
 I’m getting hard.
 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 
 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.
 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 
 Either way, I’ll act on it.
 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 
 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.
 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”
 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”
 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”
 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”
 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”
 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”
 “Why are you still mad at me?” 
 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 
 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”
 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 
 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”
 “Probably because you love me.”
 “Probably not.”
  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 
 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  
 And she knows it. 
 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 
 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 
 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.
 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”
 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”
 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 
 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”
 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 
 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.
 So—I take advantage of it. 
 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.
 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 
 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 
 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 
 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 
 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.
 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.
 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 
 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.
 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”
 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”
 “Shit, angel. I will.”
 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.
 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 
 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 
 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”
 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”
 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 
 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 
 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 
 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.
 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.
 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 
 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.
 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”
 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”
 “Please.”
 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 
 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 
 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 
 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 
 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 
 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”
 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”
 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.
 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 
 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.
 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”
 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”
 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”
 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 
 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.
 I’m about to come. Hard.
 But I need her to come first.
 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 
 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”
 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 
She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.
 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 
 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 
 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”
 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.
 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 
 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 
 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”
 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”
 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.
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tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)
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neuvistar · 11 months
Note
Can i ask for Welt with breeding kink? Yk i am OBSESSED with that dilf😻
BABY-MAKING!
— featuring ┊welt yang x fem!reader
— warnings / content warnings ┊cw: breeding kink??, multiple orgasms, belly bulge??, uhm uhm hes a lil messy n rough w it! welt being a needy lil bitch, pussy so good bro kept cumming inside, use of nicknames, this mf is so filthy when it comes to breeding u like it isn’t even him anymore bro /j, overall suggestive themes || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
— a/n ┊i’m so sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile but jesus i love that dilf too hes so fine, he’s expiring a bit like i said but it’s alright! i think he can handle it!
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WELT YANG has a breeding kink. and he knows it. he’s always been so obvious about it, always asking you what your thoughts were on having children, if you were okay with those thoughts, asking you about pregnancy, blah blah blah! but you never took the hint, so you were just there and thought how sweet your husband was asking you about future plans between the two of you. it all came down one night when he absolutely lost it, letting his mind wander and take over him once and for all.
you decided it was a good idea to tease him one day, wearing some crappy old top you bought years ago. little did you know, it got.. a lot more smaller as your body grew. you tried pulling down your shirt, trying to cover yourself from welt hoping he wouldn’t notice. from time to time, welt would notice you clutch your shirt tighter each second, pulling them down to cover yourself. he couldn’t help but stare at how hot you look in that top.. he couldn’t help but just stare intensely at how your nipples grew harder by the second, poking out of your thin cotton top with a deep red hue on your face. were you doing this on purpose? he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes wandered from your thighs, to your face, then lastly to your chest, gulping at the sight of how well your shirt shaped your breasts, wondering how well it would fit if your breasts were swollen with milk for your baby, oh.. what a sight to behold that would be.
welt licked his lips at the thought, feeling your presence beside him as you had your hand on his thigh nuzzling against his shoulder, unknowingly rubbing your breasts against his biceps. “aren’t you tired of doing all that work, baby? ‘s too much.” you cooed, rubbing his thigh with your thumb in a circular motion.
“not really, no. i still have a few things to do. it’s late, run along and get some rest. i’ll join you for bed later.” he pushed up his glasses, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. but he just.. can’t help but notice how your nipples were poking out your shirt, how your shorts barely covered your plushy thighs.. he couldn’t take this for much longer.
“welt, i’ve been thinking.” you heard him hum, eyes still on his laptop as you shifted closer to his body, feeling his warmth against yours. “i’ve been thinking about how.. i think i’m ready.”
“ready for what?”
“for a baby.”
he froze in place, did you really just say that? he felt the blazing lust he was struggling to hold back wash over him, you leaned over to kiss his neck and before you know it, two hands grabbed your wrist pinning you down, knocking the air from your lungs as welt took off his glasses looking at you with such lust you’d never seen before.
“don’t play games with me, [name]. are you dead serious?”
“i’ve never been more serious in my life. i want a baby, welt. i want you to make me a mommy.”
well. that escalated quickly.
in a blink of in eye, you both were in the bedroom. back pressed against the soft mattress of the bed as welt hoisted your legs up around his waist, raising a brow at you in which you responded with a nod. he eagerly interlocked his lips against yours. his hands would slide under your shirt, taking your breast in his hand as he pinched your hardened nipples, twisting and tugging at them. “you want me to make you a mommy, hm? i’ll fulfill that wish of yours over and over again.. as much as i want.” you whined at his words, feeling his huge cock rubbing against the slit of your wet pussy. “y-you sure that’d fit?” you had your hand on his pelvis, holding him back before he leaned over to your ear, bring his voice down to a whisper. “i’ll make sure to stretch you out, don’t worry.”
he aligned his his erected cock with your soaking hole, slamming himself inside throwing his head back at the euphoric feeling of his dick inside of you “shit..” welt mumbled a few curses under his breath as he begin to move, raising your hips with your eyes sealed shut as “yeah.. that’s it. you’re doing great, sweetheart. you want a baby? s-shit.. i’ll fucking give you one.“ he rammed his cock inside, wrapping one arm around your waist pulling your bodies close together as he abused your needy hole with his dick. “you look absolutely ravishing, sweetheart. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you could feel your tight walls clench around him each hard thrust, he grabbed your hips and angled your body a certain way, making his cock brush against spots you never knew could feel so good. your body shook as you came on his cock the first time. “hm.. you liked that, huh? did that feel good?”
your moans and cries only grew louder, welt’s lips tracing down along the flesh of your neck, pounding into your sweet spot over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. he was so rough with you.. you even asked yourself if this was really your husband, ramming into you over and over again. but you didn’t mind. really. welt’s dick was coated with a thick halo of white as you reached your second orgasm, whining at the continuous roughness of his harsh thrusts, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other squeezes your throat, applying enough pressure to force out a choked moan out of your lips. “gonna breed you so good, sweetheart. gonna breed you til i make you a mommy, you want that?” his hands reached down to caress your stomach, feeling him slide in and out of you, his lips curved into a smirk. “fuckin’ you s’ good that i can even see myself fucking you. look.” you hesitantly stared down at your stomach, seeing a deep bulge as you could see his cock thrusting inside you through your stomach, he grunted as he reached his climax, cumming inside.
“one more, baby. one more f’me.” you squirmed under his touch, mouth hung open as welt licked his lips, lifting your knees, pushing them down against the mattress as this position felt a little new to you, thrusting himself inside once more. “that’s it, pretty girl. take it all, mhm? ‘gonna fill you up until this pretty pussy has milked my cock to the brim.” you couldn’t do it anymore, you were a lot more sensitive than you usually are, even the thought of your beloved husband putting a baby in you was enough to make you go crazy. welt desperately wanted was to caress your stomach, caress it knowing he was the one who got you pregnant, and you were bound to have his child. he wanted more of you and it showed.
“take it.. take it all. take it like the good girl you are..” welt slowed his pace down, slowly but steadily, making sure not to miss a single beat. he was getting desperate.. you could tell. he wanted to get you pregnant already, he wanted to see your belly grow with his seed, he wanted to see it for himself. “keep clenching around me like that, princess.” he whispered lowly, voice filled with ecstasy as you felt his dick slide deeper and deeper inside of your abused little hole, stretching you out just like how he wanted.
“so tight.. you feel so fuckin’ good..” welt used all strength left in his body as he thrusted deep inside you, making sure not to miss any spot leaving no part untouched. “c—cummin’.. m’ cumming..” you whined, holding onto his arms before you squirted on his cock one final time as he came inside you too, streams of his load inside, coating the soft walls of your cunt.
“..was i too rough on you, sweetheart? are you alright?” the brunette panted, planting a kiss on the temple of your forehead as a way to say sorry, before you wrapped your arms around his neck. “n-not really.“
he grinned, spreading your legs apart as he went on to lick the mess he created in your pussy, licking it clean. “lemme clean you up, alright? stay still.”
-
long story short, he was not licking you clean, instead he made things more messier than it was.
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