#i'll leave it open uwu

[caelitus-a]

starter for @seraphias

Snap, the sound of tree branches being broken in half. Crackle, the warm glow of the fire made with the shifting of the wood. Pop, the wood being thrown down fresh into the heat source.

It was another late night, one under the dim glow of the moon, twinkling of the stars & the bright glow of the fire. Jellal usually found himself awake in the dead of night, after the fire had already started to go out from earlier musings. Without it however, the air felt almost cold, black and empty. Devoid of life in this night time scape. It was the reason why more often then not, he'd be the one to re-light the fire. Keep himself warm & muse to himself for the hours ahead. Help settle his nerves, his mind away from the distraction of the void of nighttime.

Jellal was focused on the flickering of the flames, entranced in a rather sleepy daze by the way the colors of orange danced with each other. His gaze however pulled away at the smallest of a shuffling sound, focusing on the cause of the noise.

" I see yet another soul steps into the night. "

[the-californicationist]

Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️

Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)

im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.

Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?

The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.

Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.

You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.

"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.

"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."

His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.

Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,

"But that will not be bloody true for long."

As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.

"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"

There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.

Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.

He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.

The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.

"Fuck, you're warm..."

He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.

"Wet for me. So wet. How?"

Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.

"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."

When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.

"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."

You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?

"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."

He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.

"John..."

You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,

"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."

He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.

"You're gonna make me come, John."

Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."

Your body listened before you could even register his words.

From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...

"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.

Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.

"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay, John..."

"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."

"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.

You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,

"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."

Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!

AO3 Link

[miguelhugger2099]

Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” 

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your  lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper. 

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust.  Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

[jays-bookmarks]

Relief (Blade x gn!reader)

@genshin-obsessed so I heard u like Blade 👀

Summary: After being cursed with immortality by the Abundance, you joined the Stellaron Hunters as a doctor. Today, your most stubborn patient finally comes to you for help. Words: 835 Warnings: reader is implied to be shorter than Blade & can be held in his lap (but our Bladie is a strong boy so he can hold anybody uwu)

You muttered to yourself as you walked around your office, organizing your medicines and checking equipment. As the only doctor in service of the Stellaron Hunters, it was important for you to keep everything in tip-top shape in case of emergencies. Although Elio usually told you in advance if a mission would be particularly bloody, there was always the possibility he would withhold one of his predictions. You couldn’t get complacent.

Despite your regular interactions with the other Stellaron Hunters, you felt you couldn't truly connect with any of your “teammates”: Kafka was always inscrutable, Silver Wolf seemed to treat reality like a game, and Blade… Blade was the only one who you thought could understand you. You had both been cursed by the Abundance in your own ways, after all. But after he ignored your attempts at friendship for so long, you had resigned yourself to an eternity of loneliness in your empty office.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You paused for a moment. Neither Kafka nor Silver Wolf were due for an appointment, leaving only one other person…

You opened the door to see Blade standing with his arms crossed. His expression betrayed nothing of what he felt, but you could see a tension in his shoulders. He didn’t speak as you blinked up at him in surprise.

“Blade. Come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Blade went to sit down in his usual spot, and you quickly busied yourself gathering the necessary materials to make the painkiller you devised specifically for his condition. You couldn’t mix the medicine in advance, as its effectiveness faded quickly with time, so you always kept the raw ingredients on hand.

You glanced over your shoulder at Blade. Your gaze flicked over his body as you observed him. To the untrained eye, Blade seemed fine as ever, if a little irritated, but you knew how to read him after having treated him for so long. You could tell he was holding back more pain than usual. The fact that he was here of his own volition told you all that you needed to know.

You took a breath, then walked over to him. The medicine you made would work in time, but you could provide him with a more immediate source of relief. Gently, you reached out and pressed a hand to his chest.

He stiffened at the contact but didn't push you away. You closed your eyes and poured your energy into him, letting it wash over him and dull his pain. You focused until you felt Blade’s breathing grow more even and his muscles relax.

You felt lightheaded as you pulled back. The process had taken much longer than you anticipated and had cost much more of your energy as well.

You tried to step away toward the counter, not wanting to linger too long in Blade’s personal space, but a wave of dizziness hit you and you stumbled. Before you could hit the floor, Blade caught you in his arms.

“What did you do?” he asked, panic bleeding into his voice.

You knew you would recover in time—the Abundance’s curse would not let you go so easily—but the pain was still nearly unbearable. Your breathing was shallow and your vision blurry. Blade adjusted his grip on you and pulled you into his lap. His arms shook slightly as he held you.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to help…” Your voice was weak and shaky as you spoke. “It… it'll pass… I'll be okay…”

Though you said this, you were still on the verge of tears. You were not like Blade—you hadn’t spent an eternity in combat and had yet to become numb to the pain of pushing your body to the limit. What he bore with a straight face was agony for you. You tried to hold back a whimper.

Blade tightened his grip around you.

“Why?” he asked.

“I… just wanted to give you some relief…” you said. You pinched your eyes shut to try to block out the pain. “Did… did it work, at least?”

Blade was silent for a while. Then, he pulled you closer, letting your head rest against his chest as his breath fanned over your face. 

“…Yes,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”

“…Sorry…” You breathed out, letting your eyes fall shut. After what you had done, you were completely exhausted, and Blade's embrace was so warm… You fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart, for once free of worries as Blade held you close.

The next day, Kafka would enter your office only to see Blade glaring at her to stay silent. You were still slumbering in his arms. He had stayed in that same position all night, not caring about the fatigue in his muscles nor the ache that came with it. Kafka smiled knowingly, holding back her teasing words—if only for now—as she closed the door, leaving Blade alone with you.

[littleplantfreak]

That's our baby

The first time you call you and Umemiya's dog 'your son'

SFW ig but a little suggestive at the end. Also I wasn't gonna name the dog but then I was like "Fuck it! It's Balto now"

Umemiya Hajime

"Baby I can explain-"

"You can explain why our son has a bowl cut?" You fume pointing at your two year-old Samoyed's misshapen head. He sits politely on the couch showcasing his new haircut, which normally you'd find hilarious because usually he can't settle down when you first get home. Apparently, though, he can tell when his father is getting scolded.

"Okay, first of all, I love you so much, and I love that you just called him our son because he is our son and-"

"I love you too. Skip to the bowl cut." He can tell by your stance, you're pretty mad.

"...Our normal groomer quit, and I couldn't find anywhere else to take him to," your husband breaths out in defeat before continuing. "I figured if I found a good video online, it would be easy. It was easy until he sneezed while I was trimming his face and three inches came off instead of one. He'd look weird if there was just a hunk off the side of his face, so I evened it out and it ended up like...this?" He says before crouching down and squishing his cheek next to your dog's. "C'mon he's kinda cute like this! He's our baby; he's always cute no matter what," he tries to appeal to your soft side by giving you the same puppy eyes your dog is giving you, and it almost works.

"The other dogs at the dog park are gonna make fun of him," you grimace, and at the sound of the word 'park,' your baby's ears perk up. He starts lifting and stomping his front paws gently, trying to behave but so excited that he might be going outside. Hajime lets out a dramatic gasp, hand to his chest before saying telling you that's blasphemy.

"He's friends with everyone at the park. There's no way they'll make fun of him just because of a silly haircut! Daddy thinks your friends are gonna love it, my little marshmallow." He starts squishing your dog's cheeks and speaking to him in the baby voice he saves especially for him.

Upon hearing 'park' for the second time, he starts whining and pawing at Hajime's arm. "Balto, honey, let's go for a walk." You pat your leg before grabbing the leash, and he bounds over to you, leaving his Father to pout on the couch with a quiet 'traitor' mumbled under his breath. "Haji, call Toma and ask if his cousin is still taking new clients. I'm pretty sure she grooms both dogs and cats," you say, going over to press a chaste kiss to his mouth, only for him to pull you in for a longer one, tongue swiping against your bottom lip and you almost lean in for more. Until you feel a wet nose press up against your cheek and you snort instead. Drawing back, Balto tries to get even closer to give you both his own flurries of kisses.

"See, he doesn't like when we fight! We have to get along for our baby's sake," he smiles letting your dog taste his entire face. You put one more kiss on his cheek before walking to the door.

"If you can't find a groomer by his playdate on Tuesday, you're getting a matching haircut. If you do find one, though, I'll wear that new outfit we got at the mall the other day. Y'know the one you almost ruined when we were in the dressing room? I'll let you ruin it for real this time," and you can see he's speechless now, head full of the red lacy thing that was more ribbon than clothing, that opens just like a present if you pull the right strings. Closing the door, you shoot Hiragi a text to let him know Hajime will be calling in the next few minutes and to get his stomach medicine ready, apologizing in advance for the hour long phone conversation he'll be subjected to. For now, you and your son have a walk to go on.

(I'm waaay to tired to triple check for spelling/grammar so I hope I got everything. I'm doing the same prompt but with Sakura next I think uwu)/ and then Sugishita as well...probably...maybe.)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

(I feel kinda shy but I rllly need smt smutty jsjs)

Imagine the reader purposely buying some sort of pheromone perfume (ik they dont rlly work in real life but for the sake of the request they do🫡🔥) and cause matt has high senses he is quite turned on by that. She works at the law firm, and he tries to control himself, but after some weeks, he can not do that anymore. (The reader and Matt are already dating, and she does this as a way of teasing him).

UwU mercii

hii!! never be shy around here, ask for whatever it is you wanna read. also I feel kinda mean sorry in advance, this drabble is like im gonna edge you all (sorry if that’s gross to say😭😭) not necessarily smut per-say, just teasing and kinda suggestive. but I have wrote office smut if that’s more up your alley, I just don’t remember what it’s called😭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

(un)lucky number seven

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 601

warnings: suggestive and teasing

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

You love to tease Matt. It's simple, really. Nothing else to it. You loved to work him up and have him wrapped around your finger. 

So, two weeks ago, when you browsed the perfume department, you stumbled upon a selection of pheromones. You knew that they were often iffy, but with Matt's heightened senses, you were sure to get some kind of a reaction. You picked it up with a mischievous grin and went to the checkout to pay.

Since then, you've been wearing small amounts of the perfume when you were around Matt- which was almost all the time, considering you worked together too. You increased the spritzes every few days to see how much you could get away with before getting a reaction.

Today, you were wearing seven sprays of the alluring perfume and were hoping to get a response, something, anything. You wanted Matt to crack, so you pulled out the big guns.

Foggy and Karen were out collecting lunch, so it left you and Matt together at the office, left to your own devices.

You knock on the inside of Matt's door. "Where do you want these papers, boss," you tease, purposely wafting the papers against you as you walk into his office. "Finished them, just like you asked."

"Thanks," he nods, avoiding you and your games. "Put them with the others."

"I think we should have a break," you suggest, dragging a chair to sit in front of his desk. "You seem a little tense today."

"No, I'm fine," he brushes you off, ignoring your advances. He loosens his tie and then rolls his sleeves. "Just warm."

"Yeah, it is pretty hot today," you say, a slight breathy tone to your voice. "Meant to be like it for a few days." You tempt, ignoring his counter attempts of turning you on.

He stands, walking around his desk to sit at the edge facing you. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say weakly, swallowing thickly when he pushes back his hair, subtly flexing his arms. "Supposed to be very hot," you say almost pathetically, steading your breathing.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he grins, head cocking to the side in amusement. 

"Nothing, nothing," you reply, shaking your head as you gathered your things to leave. "I'll let you be."

"Stay," he whispers, halting your movements with an open palm. "You wanted a break, right?" he stands again and places his hands either side of your shoulders, gently pushing you back into your chair. "What's wrong? Don't like being on the receiving end?"

You slowly shake your head. Your breaths grow heavy and strained, looking up at Matt as he leans over you with his signature smile slapped on his face.

"Is that no?" he mocks, quietly speaking as he hovers against your lips. "Not so nice, now is it?"

"No," you admit, whispering.

He lingers to your lips, mimicking a light kiss as his hand faintly trails up your throat. "Exactly," he whispers back, grazing his spare hand over your thigh. "Better get back to work. They're back." Matt nods to the door, counting up on his fingers until the door swings open.

You mumble a curse under your breath and stand, collecting yourself and your papers. "So that's the part I need to correct?" you lie, speaking loud enough for Foggy and Karen to hear. 

"Yeah, change those parts, then it's perfect," Matt nods. "Mine. After work." He whispers to you, hiding his mouth behind his fist.

"You got it," you reply, your tone perky and upbeat as you leave his office. "Oh, hey, guys, I didn't see you there."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[hina-hina]

141 walking in on reader getting dressed.. like how you think they would react

Hello friend!! This is such a silly request! As always, there will be no nsfw but I'll still do my best! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○｀ 3′○)

→ COD Masterlist

|| Task Force 141 Accidently Walking in on Reader Getting Dressed ||

Tags: Crack, blushing, embarrassment, bit suggestive,

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic-ish

|| Ghost

I can see Ghost has a bad habit of not knocking

He's used to people standing at attention as soon as he enters a room so he isn't really thinking when he goes barging into your room

He didn't think he would be barging in on you changing

Despite this, he is very professional about it

Would quickly pull the door almost completely closed and very steadily tell you that you are needed

Despite his professionalism, he would be blushing a little beneath his mask and would refuse to make eye contact for a while afterward

I don't see him as the type to apologize though, he would rather just pretend the whole thing didn't happen at all

Will immediately shut you down or walk away if you try and talk about it afterward

|| Soap

Soap would also barge into your room just because he isn't paying attention

Like, if he has something he is supposed to tell you, he is just focused on finding and doesn't even think to knock

So when he opens the door and sees you changing he freezes up

Just stands there until you yell at him/throw something at him

When you snap him back into reality, he would quickly avert his gaze and stumble out why he was looking for you

May also stumble and struggle not to stare

Then, when he realizes he is still standing in your room he would jump back out into the hallway and slam the door

He takes off down the hall, trying to use a hand to hide his blush

Would feel bad, thinking you were made at him

This would cause him to eventually approach you to apologize

If you were to tease him during this interaction, he would just melt

|| Gaz

I imagine that Ghost in this scenario would be the type to knock but not wait for you to respond before coming inside

When he notices you are in the middle of changing, he immediately looks away and starts profusely apologizing

Would slam the door shut while still apologizing through the closed door

Would wait out in the hallway, probably pacing, until you came out

He would apologize directly and try to push away his embarrassment

If you assure him that it wasn't that big of a deal, or try to flirt, he would probably let out a little laugh because he feels silly for getting so worked up

If you show him you didn't really mind, he would def tease or make jokes about it

|| Price

Now, if you had been any other member of the 141 he would not be phased at all

But, if you were someone he was attracted to, he would be shocked by his reaction

But imagine he comes looking for you and he is respectful and knocks

He, unlike Gaz, he waits for you to respond

But when you tell him to come in, he is shocked to see you in the middle of changing

And the fact you don't seem to mind him watching

He is shocked to silence for a moment, not an easy task, as you stare at him expectantly

He would clear his throat and avert his gaze, trying to keep his voice steady as he tells you why he had come looking for you

He tries his best to keep his composure, especially because you are so relaxed about the situation

He would probably end the conversation with some kind of reprimand and abruptly leave

Thanks for reading!!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

☆There's No Place Like Home☆

《You are new to this... Neighborhood? Where the hell are you?》

Episode 2: Get To Know Know Your Neighbors

[Pilot] [1]

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @ partycoffin 》

-

Sick.

You felt sick after eating that cake. It tasted like pure sugar cane mixed with coffee creamer. The taste was sweeter than any treat you had eaten before.

Yet you don't utter a word about it to your plucky, so-called, "neighbors".

"Well, would you look at the time? It looks like it's late... Er. I think, but I gotta keep.. Unpacking? And I'm sure you all have plans of your own tomorrow."

You pick up the plates quickly, but some of the slices were barely picked at. Other plates are not even a spec of crumbs.

"Yes, of course!" Poppy said, hurriedly fluffing up her feathers in case of any stray pieces of dessert on her.

"Mhm, the post office isn't gonna' run itself." "Nor the bodega!" Howdy and Eddie laugh, Frank, chuckling off to the side.

"Yes, I gotta get some beauty sleep if I wanna dream big!" Sally agreed, pushing out her chair.

"Then I guess it's settled, we'll see you tomorrow, right neighbor?" Wally asks you. Dropping the plates in the sink, a few break on impact. Your hands try to pick up the broken pieces. But recoiled at the sight of your blood staining the fine china.

"Ye-yeah... Absolutely."

"Wonderful!" Julie cheers, coming up to your side by the sink.

"You must join me tomorrow! Your clothes are so odd! I've never seen a style quite like it. I would love it if we could dress up together!" The puppet chattered.

You nodded uncaringly, more focused on the cut on your palm.

"Groovy-..!"

A sharp gasp escapes Julie as Frank comes to her side.

"What... What is that?" Julie questioned you.

"Oh-... it's a cut. I hurt myself..."

"H-HURT! Who said hurt!?" Poppy stumbles near your side, her gaze softening as she asks if you were okay.

The other puppets now standing behind her, awkwardly trying to see your cut.

You hesitantly show the bird-puppet your palm, albeit shaken up by her. You thought she would bite your arm off with her beak.

Instead, she holds out her feathers, tenderly holding your arm.

Her expression turns into one of confusion. "That's odd..?"

"Wh-what??"

"There's only paint, I don't see any stuffing. Are you sure you are hurt?"

You, in turn, give her a puzzled look.

Had... Had these puppets never seen a human before? Much less a human being bleeding?

You take this as a good sign. Glad that these "puppets" didn't eat or have an appetite for humans or blood.

"Paint you say?" Frank bumps in, carefully analyzing your cut. He hums in thought, "Would you mind if I poked your cut?"

"No...Can I have a band-aid or something to close it up please?"

Frank nodded and backs off as Eddie hands you needle and a thread spool. "Here, found it by some of the boxes."

"Thanks..." You said, disregarding the puppets staring at you attentively as you place the items down. Saying you'll clean it up first.

You reassure them you'll be fine as you usher your "neighbors" to the door. Gladly holding the door open for them as they say their good byes and farewells.

Wally was the last one to leave, he smiles sleepily at you. You smile back at the tiniest puppet, feeling your mouth muscles twitch when keeping up the charade.

"I'll tell Home you said 'hello', good night. Neighbor."

-

[Taglist closed]

@tearjerker666 @trzppyghxuls @cookieswithay @luna-charlie @isometimeswritestuff @kazi-pop @lightspectre-universe @jjowithastar @smilingfox22-blog @jayysnotjoyful @cadaverous-coop @heather-hutchcroft @camilo-uwu @sweetheartturtle2007 @welcomehome102 @pretty-please-just-let-me-sleep @wally-darling-hyperfixation @q1bli @rainingdandelion @anima-chara @tearjerker666 @aceduchessdragoness @sleepy-planet @pauldanosbandonedirection222 @thelittlexd11 @luna-charlie

-

[Dun-dun-dun!!! Sorry I took so long to update! I've been writing a lot of Welcome Home Oneshots. Comments, art, always help! Thanks for reading!]

[midnight-pluto]

ROUND 2 : PG.07 — my nostalgia

ROUND 2: dazai osamu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: When you decided to attend Chuya's volleyball game, you didn't expect to see a familiar face. A face of someone you thought you would've never seen again; what's more annoying however, is seeing said face repeatedly.

round 2 master list || prev. || next

NOVEMBER 2 ; 18:12

IN ALL HONESTY, Dazai didn't think he'd make it to senior year. Never planned on it, never made plans for his future, never thought it'd be worth it to live so long in this world.

Maybe that's the actual reason he pushed everyone he once knew away, so it'd hurt less once he was gone. So they wouldn't mourn longer once his dead body made it onto the news, what would the news even say about him?

A bright young man with a future ahead of him, struggled with depression and resorted to self-harm as a way of coping, but ultimately succumbed to it and killed himself.

Yeah, sounds about right.

Anyone who actually knew him would say differently though. He wouldn't be described as a "gentle and kind peer" like most victims of suicide, it would sound more like.

"Always having a shit-eating grin on his face, would never accept any kind of help for his mental health. He was pretty smart though, I'll give him that."

"He was a weirdo, always carried around a 'Guide to Suicide 101' book or something. Guess he finally succeeded, he got what he wanted though at least."

The only people Dazai could think of who wouldn't say something like that was Chūya and you.

Come to think of it however, you both would most likely would most likely find a way to bring him back to kill him with your bare hands.

It was a funny thought because it would probably never happen, but you coming back into his life was something he thought would never happen again either.

And you managed to do it so effortlessly. With random tweets he sent out, you were there leaving a silly comment under it along with you being the first person to come to mind whenever something occurs.

Just like how it was years ago.

Thoughts were a continuous stream in Dazai's mind as he looked out upon the open waters of the dock as his back was leaning against the bench he was sitting on, whilst the wooden planks creaked under your footsteps.

'He looks like a freshly divorced depressed dad sitting like that.'

You had just stopped nearby to get a cup of hot chocolate as the weather began to get chillier when you saw the sight of a familiar head of brown sitting on the bench. Dazai's brown strands swaying with the wind as he gazed out at the sparkling water in the sun's light.

Stepping closer to him, he tilts his head up, as he's met with the sight of you.

"Dazai?" you ask, trying to confirm his conscience being present as he looked spaced out prior to your interruption.

He parts his lips to say something, but shuts them with a smile to say something else, "Call me Osamu."

"Huh?" you quirk up a brow, not expecting his words. You both were far from mending and recreating the bond you once shared, however you never expected for him to want you to drop the formalities so quickly.

Your lips quickly formed a smirk as your mind found a perfect way to tease him, "That was so cringe of you to say, Osamu."

He simply scoffed at your words, "You never like formalities, you're the cringe one."

"Nuh uh.”

"We're not doing this right now."

"Bruh." Tilting your head slightly caused a resounding 'pop' to illicit from your neck, "Anyways do you want some hot chocolate? I just got mine and I don't mind heading back in again.

Closing his eyes in pseudo-thought, the brunet smiled with a resounding, "Sure," escaping his lips.

STICKY NOTES

meant to post this yesterday but to caught up with other things 🫡

TAGLIST : @heeslovr @atlasnessie @cvidy @rattyrattyratty @chaos-inperson @almond-t0fu @rwura @fyodorisbbg @lalalaloveallmydays @milksh-ke @phoenix-eclipses @saeandscaralover @stuffeddeer @staymoarmyzen @hotwomanlythings @ashthemadwriter-uwu @strawberryuri [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]

[wulvercazz]

Strangers🫢

cw// ofc strangers, public indecencies 👀, voyeur, light dubcon but tbh Ichigo's really really into this uwu

Ichigo's on his way back from Uni when this guy hops in and sits right in front of him even despite the bus being mostly empty; save for an old lady nodding off on the very first row. It's odd, and this guy is probably just looking for a fight. Ichigo turns to the window politely, trying not to acknowledge the guy much- or he would, if only he'd stop fucking moving so much. His brow twitches in growing annoyance with every bump of the guy's knee against his own, how much fucking space does he need? A large, heavy, boot lands on his thigh and his head is flipping right back with a few choice curse words hanging from his lips; but it all dies in his throat in a pathetic choke when he sees what all that rumaging was about. The guy's laid back lazily, sitting precariously on the very edge of his seat while his long skirt seats bunched up on the very crook of his hips and thighs. And it takes him aback, but mostly it makes heat pool so fast down on his groin, that the guy's got a whole pussy out in the open. No trace of underwear ever being worn in sight either. And he doesn't bother talking either, quiet laughter framing an evil grin that spreads wider with every second. His hand pushing the fabric even further out the way as he exposes his fat, pierced, clit and the quietly buzzing toy slicking it's way inside him. Ichigo wants to object, to be offended, to curse him out for public indecency... and then that boot presses hard on the half chub already wetting his underwear and a soft whimper leaves him instead. The guy bites his lip as if he's feeding off his struggle. His hips shifting in place to make the toy fuck in and out his sticky cunt, thighs jumping every so often and threatening to close tight together when it hits a particularly good spot inside him; stubborn not to let it happen anyway, just so Ichigo won't peel his eyes away. "I'll let you cream me up all you want, if you come'ere and put that pretty mouth to good use~" He offers with a nonchalant whisper, and desire jolts so violently through Ichigo's core that he fears he might have already cum inside his pants.

~🚌~

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 2

Eyeless Jack x Reader (NSFW)

Part 1

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss tysm darling, I really appreciate the support <333

I've given it a title so therefore, I have officially made it a ✨thing✨ The outline has 6 parts rn, but I'm far from done~

AND once I finish Dirty Little Secret on my patreon, I'm thinking I'll rewrite this series but in like,, the reader's POV. So anyways, all that to say I've very much been enjoying this and I'm excited to keep it going uwu 💕💞💓

I've also been having some formatting issues on this one, for some reason?? I tried fixing it up but please lmk if there's anything off AND lmk if you enjoyed <3

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me <3

Masterlist: x

It comes as no surprise when he ends up in bed, hard dick in his hand, thinking of you for the god-knows-how-many-th time

Try as he might to fervently rut into his clenched fist, he knows no feeling would ever compare to you bouncing on his cock instead

The taste of you on his tongue had dissipated much too quickly, but that doesn’t stop him from desperately trying to reimagine your arousal on his lips

He grunts, his hips grinding up, cock tensing and twitching in his hold

It’s torturous

He needs you

Precum beads up at his tip, and all he can think about is the way you’d lap it up with your tongue

Friends

Every time he imagines all the ways he could fuck you senseless, the word friends interrupts his fantasy

Really, he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He shouldn’t be having such depraved thoughts about someone who doesn’t want anything to do with him beyond friendship

But he can’t help it

You drive him wild

The sounds of your pretty little moans and whimpers are stuck on repeat in his head

The way your body writhed in his touch, the way your perfectly wet cunt tightened around his tongue—everything about you gets him drunk with lust

His room feels unbearably hot

Try as he might to relieve the throbbing ache of his stiff cock, it’s no use

He can’t be satisfied without you

And he realizes, fuck, you’ve triggered a heat

The next few days are absolute hell

He’s on and off his heat

Every time it’s on the cusp of dissipating, his thoughts scramble back to you, and it starts all over again

He waits at least a week before leaving his room—just to be sure seeing you won’t jeopardize anything

And it’s only a day or two after he leaves his room that he runs into you again

It’s an early morning, with pale sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows

You’re at the table, sipping on a coffee, and a few other creeps are scattered about the dining room and kitchen

He doesn’t know whether he should be irritated or grateful that there are other people around

Probably the latter, considering he wouldn’t know how to act if it was just the two of you

But it’s hard to feel grateful when Jeff decides to take a seat right next to you

And god, does he ever hate the way that guy looks at you sometimes

He debates staying or going as he makes his coffee

Staying might aggravate him if he notices Jeff trying to pull any moves on you

But on the other hand, leaving might risk something developing between you and Jeff

The more he can interfere between you and other potential suitors, the better

He can’t let anyone else have you

So even though he’s, admittedly, being childish when he takes the other open spot next to you, he tries to play it off like it’s nothing

Like he hasn’t been jerking off to the thought of you for the past week

You don’t seem to notice, but Jack doesn’t miss the way Jeff glares at him when he sits

Try me, Jack wants to say

Jeff huffs out a breath when he realizes the hybrid won’t back off

And the sheer audacity of that guy—thinking he can just waltz up to you and have you all to himself—it unlocks something primal within Jack

“What’s wrong?”

Your voice, as angelic as ever, suddenly breaks the mounting tension in the room

Jack feels like a filthy perv when the first thing that comes to mind is all those pretty sounds you made when you came against his mouth

He just wants to fuck more of those precious sounds out of you

Deep breaths, deep breaths

“What? What do you mean what’s wrong?” Jeff answers your question with his own, trying to act dumb

And thankfully, the grating sound of his voice is enough to snap Jack out of his fantasy

“Why do you look so aggravated all of a sudden?” you ask, your tone lighthearted and joking as you sip your coffee

“Yeah, Jeff, is something wrong?”

Jack tries to keep his voice as genuine as possible when he backs you up, but he knows Jeff is fully aware of the cocky grin he’s wearing beneath his mask

And he has to suppress a snicker when the guy glowers at him

“Just… life,” Jeff haphazardly grumbles, not wanting to admit Jack’s ruined the alone time he wanted with you

A cruel joke comes to the demon’s mind

It’s dumb and immature, and he knows he shouldn’t say it, but he wants to say it

So, he does

“Oh,” he hums, “is it that problem you’ve mentioned to me before?”

Jeff’s eyes meet his, brow arching

“What problem?” he asks, taking the bait

“You know,” Jack continues, trying to act as natural as possible, “that issue you’ve been having. I told you, you might need to change your diet. More fiber would help you become more regular…”

His chest practically swells with pride when you snort out a laugh

“Oh my god, is that what it is?”

You burst out laughing even harder at the expression on Jeff’s face

“The fuck!? That’s not even true! Why would you say that—what the fuck is your problem, man?!”

He can try to say whatever he wants, but it’s no use; he knows Jack’s gotten the best of him

With an angry snort, he stands

“Whatever, I’m over this,” he growls

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you and a very self-satisfied Jack alone at the table

He finally has you all to himself

Well, minus the creeps coming in and out for coffee and breakfast

But at least none of them seem particularly interested in you

Not in the way Jeff seemed to be, anyways

“Christ, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckle, shaking your head with a smile on your lips

There are suddenly butterflies in Jack’s stomach

God, you’re so fucking cute

“Was that even true?”

You look at him when you ask the question, and he almost forgets how to breathe for a minute

He shrugs, hoping you don’t notice the effect you have on him

“If he’s constipated? I mean, I don’t know if I should say anything about it. Seems like he’s embarrassed about it…”

You shake your head with a snicker

He wants to kiss you

Fuck, he really, really wants to kiss you right now

Crash his lips into yours until he’s all you can think about

He wants to wrap your legs around him, slam your back against the table and make out with you until you’re a pretty little dazed mess beneath him

Blood rushes to his junk

He shifts in place, trying to ignore it

Friends

As unwanted as ever, he’s reminded of that fucking word again

But even despite it, he isn’t entirely sure where the two of you stand

Hell—he’s more uncertain than ever

Did you really want to forget that whole thing happened in the first place?

Go about things like normal—as if he hadn’t buried his face between your thighs?

As if you hadn’t pulled his hair and whimpered his name when you came against his lips?

He takes a sip of his coffee in a vain attempt to distract himself

But it’s hard to think straight when his dick keeps throbbing for attention

He quietly clears his throats, as if that could help anything, and he shifts in place again, subtly trying to readjust himself in his grey sweats

It’s only when his knuckles accidentally graze your bare thigh, only when he hears your quiet little gasp, that he freezes in place

The sound was barely audible, but he knows what he heard

He glances down, and he almost groans out loud when he notices what you’re wearing

It’s those same fucking shorts

He’s at a loss for what to do

The both of you are in the middle of the kitchen dining room—for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be having half the thoughts he’s having right now

But even then, he can’t bring himself to pull his hand away from your thigh

The minimal amount of skin-on-skin contact is making his head spin

He needs more

He’s never felt so insatiable

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist stroking at your leg

The motion is slow, soft, calculated, so that he can enjoy every inch of your perfect skin

Neither of you move as he gently traces over your thigh with the back of his knuckles

His chest is pounding

He can hear your heart beating, your breath hitching in your throat whenever he gets closer to the edges of your shorts

He wants you

God, does he ever want you

That pesky word keeps coming to mind again, but he forces himself to forget about it

For now—at the very least

You don’t make a move to stop him

You almost seem to welcome his touch

But that uncertainty is still there

Which is why he takes things unbearably slowly when he moves his hand between your legs to grasp at the flesh of your inner thighs

You make what sounds like a quiet whimper

And the sound goes right to his cock

As if a whole week of jerking off to you wasn’t enough

Inch by inch, his touch dances further up along your thigh

And though it’s subtle, he can’t not notice the way you part your legs just the slightest bit more for him

You’re giving him permission to touch you—right here, right now—of all places?

He breathes in, and when he gets a whiff of your scent, he decides fuck it, there’s no way he can let this opportunity slip him by

So under the cover of the table, even despite the few creeps still lingering about, he pushes past the material of your shorts to access your sex

You’re wet

You’re already turned on for him—he can feel it through your underwear

Screw anyone around to see, he wants to bend you over this table right now and fuck his cum inside you

He wants to breed you and mark you and make sure everyone knows by the sounds of your screams that you’re all fucking his

He strokes your slit up and down through your panties, and he adores the way it has you squirming in place

Fuck, you’re so cute

He wants to ruin you

But he also wants to enjoy every second of this

So he takes his sweet, sweet time running his fingers along your covered sex until he can feel you getting wetter and wetter

It isn’t long for you to thoroughly soak through your panties

And all he wants is to taste you all over again

He swallows down a growl at the thought

His body’s burning for yours

You keep squirming and quietly gasping as he teases you

And he’s so entranced by you, he nearly forgets you’re in an open room

All he can focus on is the way your body’s reacting to him

Whatever delicate threads of control he’s still grasping onto feel like they’re slipping from his hold

When you whine his name out, so cute and desperate and needy for him, it’s all the approval he needs

He pushes your underwear to the side and runs his fingers up and down your slit

The way your arousal gathers on the pads of his fingers almost makes him lose it

He just wants to pull you into his lap and fuck up into you until you’re gushing around his cock

But somehow, he manages to hold himself back

He teases at your clit very, very briefly, before then slowly sinking two digits into your opening

His chest rumbles with an involuntary groan as he immediately feels you clench around him

You bite back a moan, but he can still hear the way you sigh at the feeling

You’re so wet, so perfectly tight around him

He imagines how good you’d feel wrapped around his dick

You shift in place, breathing his name out in a shaky moan, and it’s a miracle he still has the self-control to not screw your brains out yet

He’s about to suggest taking things to your room when Hoodie walks in and locks eyes with you

If Jack were any more coherent beyond his lust, he’d probably pull his hand out of your pants

But he’s beyond giving a shit at this point

The proxy pauses, almost curiously, and instead of going for the fridge or pantry, or wherever he was going to go, he makes his way towards you

Jack feels you stiffen

You clench around his fingers, your breathing uneven

He knows he should stop

But he’s not done enjoying the warmth of your tight cunt fluttering around him

And so what if Hoodie notices?

At least then, he’d know who you belong to

The demon is entirely aware he’s being selfish

But he can’t bring himself to care

He’s too far gone

So even as he watches Hoodie greet you, even as he watches you, dazed and horny and sex-drunk off his fingers, struggling to greet the proxy normally, he doesn’t pull away

Let him know

Let him know who you’re allowing to do such depraved things to you

“(Y/n), you missed our training session this morning,” Hoodie says, and a bout of anger flares up in Jack’s chest

Oh how he loathes the thought of another man getting physical with you

It makes him curl his fingers inside you to reach right up against a spot that has you cinching around him

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip briefly before you can recover

“Y-yeah, uhm, sorry about that”

Your voice is shaky, your face visibly flushed

But you haven’t even tried to stop Jack yet

You want this as much as he does

“I, ah, I meant to let you know, but I—I forgot… to mention it”

In and out, the hybrid painstakingly slowly pumps his fingers inside your velvety walls as you try to talk normally

He flattens his palm against your clit, and your hips buck against his touch, which you quickly try to pass off as shifting in your seat

“Hm, that’s alright,” the proxy hums, then tilts his head curiously. “Is it because you weren’t feeling well? You look kind of… off”

Jack stiffens as the man reaches out to press his hand against your cheek

It’s just to check if you’re feverish, the logical part of him knows that, but the irrational part of him despises that he’s just laid a finger on you

A warning growl emanates out of his chest—low enough that it seems to slip Hoodie’s attention, but loud enough that you seem to notice it

You’re his—what’s not to fucking understand?

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just… ah, j-just didn’t sleep too well—“

Something like a choked moan evades you again, and you have to pretend to cough to avoid suspicion

Jack grinds his hand against your clit, and your whole body reacts to his touch

“S’alright,” the demon hums, and he briefly wonders if Hoodie notices the unusually husky timber of his voice when he does, “she might have the flu, but I’m checking up on it. She should be fine, nothing serious”

You squirm, and he teases at your sweet spot again, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing right where you need it most

You can’t look Hoodie in the eyes as your thighs start trembling

Your hand looks unsteady as you bring the coffee to your lips, but you manage to drink it down without spilling anything

The proxy glances between you and Jack, and Jack wonders if he’s caught on yet

Either way, if he has, he doesn’t show it

“Well, alright, I hope you feel better soon. Let me know when you want to train next time”

You nod, humming to hide another whimper as Jack’s fingers don’t relent

And then finally, finally, Hoodie leaves

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jack crams his fingers into your inviting heat in a slew of rough thrusts

You gasp, almost moaning out very loudly before you manage to cover your mouth to muffle it

It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits

And god, you’re breath-taking as you do so

Your back arches, body tensing as your teeth bite down hard into your lips to prevent a scream from escaping

How he wishes those were his teeth biting into you instead

And just like that first time he made you cum, he can’t seem to bring himself to stop

It’s only when you’re shaking from the overstimulation, only when you reach out to pull his hand away, that he finally relents

His fingers are dripping with your arousal

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist bringing them up to his mouth to taste you off his digits

And fuck, you taste just as good as you did the first time

You’re panting, chest heaving, a perfectly unfocused look in your eyes

He wants to pick you up, take you to the nearest bedroom and fuck you stupid

Friends, fuck-buddies, potential partners—he doesn’t know where the two of you stand

But at this point, labels don’t matter, he thinks, not really, anyways

He’s not letting anything come between the two of you

You're his

[onlyseokmins]

perfect, now spit in my mouth • h.v.c.

Pairing: chwe vernon x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, lyricist/composer!au

Warnings: swearing, lots of spitting/spit kink (😭), fingering (fem. receiving), tiny bit of praise kink ig, lil bit of degradation but it prolly breaks nonnie's heart tbh, breeding kink too uwu, mentions of male receiving oral lol, wap lmaooo, tiny bit of temp play but not really - you'll see, wee bit possession heh, reader likes to tease and vernon is extremely whipped :3

WC: 2.6k

A/N: vernon and black eye = spit kink so nothing new but i wrote it so it is smth new 🤷🏻‍♀️ ajskdfd no but 🥳 a very extremely happy belated birthday @junkissed i love u lots heh i hope u enjoy this since i had to change up my original plans and i'm so sorry it took a while 🥰 oh and this is also for the other feral dollies out there ily all

If there was one thing you loved about Vernon, it would be his awkwardness. It was what drew you to him.

Light coughs whenever you giggled at one of Seungkwan's silly jokes. Stifled clearing of his throat at the rare chance he got to speak with you. The abrupt avoidance of eye contact when he was startled by your sudden appearance while lost in his own world. And a jittery departure at times you got too near — one might think he actually disliked you.

But those close to him knew the truth. And whether Vernon acknowledged it or not, you were someone close to him. And also a person that could read the man very well.

The light brush of his trembling fingers pressing against your back when guiding you through a crowded market. A protective stance at your side in his leather jacket, eyes narrowed as if to dare anyone to mess with you. As if you needed to be guarded.

But the furrow of his eyebrows while doing it was too cute for you to complain.

Vernon's awkward behaviors happen so often that they might as well just be normal anyways. A gummy smile and the characteristic wrinkles of his nose were enough to make up for any peculiar habits around you. 

Especially after you say yes when he works up enough courage, stuttering while asking you to finally be his. Fumbling for the matching couple's bracelets he'd worked several double-shifts for in his pocket. Brown eyes sparkling and reflecting the same joy in yours even after he drops the box in a puddle. Not like you had any plans on saying no, though.

Those chocolate-colored eyes stare down at you now in wonder as Vernon holds himself above you. His left hand placed by your ear is decorated with the silver circlet holding your birthstone while wrapped around his neck, your right arm's accessory jingles with its amethyst charm. The pair of one-year anniversary gifts pierced in your earlobes sparkle in the low light of your shared bedroom, complimenting your cherished bracelets.

He's no longer as weird with you as before. As in, his fleeting touches now linger comfortably and he can almost read you just as well as you always have him.

Yet he still questions with pure wonder. As if he can't quite believe you're actually real in his arms and on his bed. Like you didn't give him the best suck of his fat cock for the hundredth time.

"You want me to what?"

"Spit in my mouth, baby. Did I stutter before?"

"N-no, I just — " 

His eyes are blown wide, mouth still hanging open from when you first posed the notion. You put your hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Sometimes you treat me too gently. You can be a little rough, you know I like it."

"What if you break?"

"I'm not that fragile, goofball."

"I know but what if you hate me?" Vernon whispers, though his eyes do not leave yours. They shine, showcasing all his vulnerabilities. "I like you so much I think I'll die if you do."

"Silly, then stop thinking so much. It's not like I'm asking you to slap me and call me a whore." You smile coyly. "Although it's not like I'd be opposed to such things." When he whines your name you laugh. "Okay, okay… a later time then."

He flops his forehead on your bare shoulder. "I can't believe you."

"Can't believe you'd write something like "I'll spit in your mouth" and not do it," you pout and he lets out a defeated sigh.

"You know most of those lyrics weren't like… literal."

"Then what's the point?"

Your boyfriend can see how your eyes flash with teasing mischief so he shrugs in an attempt to put up a strong face. "I… draw inspiration from all kinds of experiences. Before, during… our relationship."

"… What about after? Are you planning to break up with me at some point?"

"Uh, wait — "

"Omigosh, then do you plan to murder me in the near future?"

"No, what? All I meant was I write things that aren't about you, sometimes."

"I know that," you assure him in his panic. "Sooooo," you drawl out, switching gears and pushing him onto his back so you can sit on top. You're both shirtless but have your undergarments on. "If we were to fuck often in the studio, would you write more songs about me?"

"God, baby," he groans, hand flying to your hips, "do you think I'd even have the time to think with you bouncing all loud and gorgeous on my dick? What's gonna happen when I lose my studio rights?"

Pleased at how Vernon's body is so reactive — cock hardening again and twitching sensitively in his boxers at the obscene thoughts — you grind down lightly. "Then we fuck even more. All day," you lean down and whisper right in his ear, "and all night." 

"Shit, you're so dirty. So good to me. All for me."

"Of course," you swivel your hips, fingers brushing up the sides of your body, "all yours." 

His gaze follows the colors of your pretty manicured nails until they settle to cover your breasts. They still shine with saliva and feel a little sore from him worshiping them earlier. You grab at them with a light squeeze and press down harder against him, taking in every reaction. The way his eyes roll back at how much you're soaking through the thin fabric of his boxers makes you feel like a god.

"Even when "I'm on my worst behavior"."

"You are so not using my lyrics in bed."

"Hey, I did earlier 'cause they do make great dirty talk so "don't stop me now", Vernonnie." You wink when all the poor man can do is roll his eyes. "See, "how you like me now"?"

He urges you back over to your previous position. "I do love you but if you want me to spit in your mouth, I think I'm gonna have to be on top."

You simply hum, the sudden electrifying zing in the air making you quiver in anticipation. Vernon is aware of this — pinning your arms above your head, fingers rubbing reassuringly along the band of your bracelet.

"That wasn't an answer."

"That wasn't a question?" you bite back, thrilled when he squints to shield the way his gaze darkens.

"When I tell you to speak, you do."

The gasp of surprise that rises in your chest comes out as a moan. Despite his uncertainty, the commanding tone makes your head spin joyously. Heat rushes through your entire body and releases in a hot mess between your legs, soaking your panties. 

You're sure Vernon will very quickly and gleefully find out once he finishes sucking little love bites in a trail down your stomach. His warm breath lingers at your waistline, pausing until you raise your head to look at him questioningly.

"My pretty baby hasn't listened yet. Guess I'll hang out here for a bit. Thought we were done for the night anyways."

Your jaw drops as he continues to just press kisses on your tummy. "What the hell, Vern?"

"Don't you think you should behave to get what you want?"

"Don't you want to find out how wet I am for you?"

He shudders and you think you've won but he's uncharacteristically stubborn tonight, refusing to yield. "Only… only good… whores are rewarded."

You moan breathlessly. Shamelessly. Your boyfriend has barely touched you tonight besides some casual foreplay beforehand. Yet you feel zero embarrassment at how much your body aches in want for him. "I'll be a good whore for you so… please, please touch me!"

Vernon lets out a curse, hastily taking off your panties. He groans in delirium staying focused solely on your leaking pussy that's begging for him. Looking you in the eyes, he gulps to steady his resolve despite how easily distracted he is by the desperate flutter of your eyelashes.

"You really want me, baby? Think this little cunt can take me?" A choked laugh escapes his throat. "So goddamn wet for me already just like the lovely darling you are."

Your reply is cut off by a harsh sound in his throat before he spits right at your pussy. Hips bucking up at the feeling of warm liquid sliding down into your hole and only continuing to jerk upwards as he stares, not even blinking. Like a cat. Licking his lips agonizingly slow at the way you clench pitifully around nothing, his saliva mixing with your arousal.

"But not wet enough."

That's a fucking lie. You both know it. And you both don't care.

You can't help but leak more and more, threatening to leave a puddling mess all over the mattress. But he won't let that happen. You think you might burst into flames when your boyfriend's lidded eyes drag across your writhing body to meet yours, a heated fire swirling in chocolate irises as he spits into his palm without losing your gaze.

You've seen him do it before. Normally when he's about to wrap his hand around his thick cock during a mutual masturbation session when he can't use your wetness to coat him instead.

But now, he catches your dripping mess right before it falls. Smearing it with an accompaniment of saliva all over to coat your pussy lips. Fingers brush across your slit to fiddle with your clit, before spreading a shiny trail on your pelvis.

"So pretty… " Vernon mumbles, marveling at the debauched visage of your desperation. 

Your fingers pinch at your nipples, thighs trembling because his hand lays so close to your clit. Able to feel heat radiating from him paired with the cool metal of his bracelet, the slight pressure above your pubic bone causes you to whine in frustration.

"Do something, Nonnie. Anything. Please."

Begging snaps him out of his trance, back to the present moment and the end goal he has in mind. Fingers slide down tantalizingly slow to tease at your entrance — gathering up more of your arousal — before easing just as painstakingly slow inside.

Groaning at the same time you do, additional filthy and wet noises fill the room when he sets a harsh pace to drive his fingers into your pussy. Months of practice allow him to quickly find the spot to stroke that has your toes curling, body writhing with the need to grab onto something. Vernon's eyes dart to how you grab at the bedsheets in an unforgiving hold.

Nervous you might somehow tear them (definitely not the first time), he reluctantly removes his hand from your warmth. Mildly amused at the way you release your death grip only to pound a fist against the mattress, the jingle of your charm sounding sweet despite your apparent vexation.

He ignores your laser beam glare, entranced by the clear strands that stretch as he spreads his fingers. Smirking with his tongue running along his upper teeth, he turns back to you and waves the digits tauntingly.

"Open."

You obey without hesitation, granting him access to stick his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around them, more intent on reminding your boyfriend of the way you sucked him off earlier than how you taste.

It doesn't matter if that pleases him or not. Because soon he's pulling his fingers away, not leaving you empty for long. Stripping down, he's back hovering over you before you can whine. Holding his cock with one hand, he taps it teasingly against your cunt only to lose reason and throw his head back at the incredibly loud, wet slapping noises. Quickly returning his focus to not miss the droplets that spray out to coat both of your thighs as he does it.

"Want me to fuck this tight little hole?"

"Mhm, of course."

"Whose pretty pussy is this?"

"Belongs to you, baby."

He spits again so it lands right where the head of his cock spreads apart your pussy lips upon its entrance. You might've told him to save his saliva to spit in your mouth but you're too blissed out by the whole insane situation. 

"Arms around me, love." Vernon's freed hand lands to cage you between his arms as he slides in with more ease than expected, filling you up completely that it knocks the wind out of both of your lungs. "So fucking wet for me, ah."

Your inner walls pulse and contract around his cock as usual, yet it's a different feeling than normal. Rather than tightening so hard around him that he can barely breathe, it's more of a slick suction that makes his head spin. His cock is quite literally drowning in your pussy. If he thought the sounds of fingering you were filthy, the amplification of wet slaps as his hips snap furiously is somehow even impossibly filthier.

"'m not gonna last long." Your boyfriend would probably feel pathetic for the lack of stamina but the scratches along his shoulder blades inform him that you're just as far gone. "Gonna fill you up, nice and full just like you like it, baby."

As your mouth opens in a reciprocating moan, Vernon finally does what you desire. He spits, proud of his perfect aim into your mouth. You swallow without being told, eyes rolling back in delight and carving crescent moon shapes into his skin. That's all it takes for you to cum, shaking as you cling to him.

"More," you pant out, "do it again. Please!"

If he could speak, he would tell you how absolutely gorgeous you are. Instead, he does as asked, in awe of how readily you take every piece of him. You already have his heart, his soul, and his love. He's given his release after you've begged him to fuck you raw — and well, now you've taken his spit. 

Gee, how romantic.

Vernon's pace hastens, intent to give you all of his cum before overstimulation sets in. Your legs wrap around him, reading his mind — or more like your body instinctively craves to be filled. He chants your name like a mantra before giving in and spilling inside, shuddering as his hips have no choice but to press tightly against you with the aid of your rather cute koala grasp.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

He buries his head inside the crook of your neck, laying his whole body weight on yours and refusing to budge. You hum, letting your head clear as your hands run up and down across the marks you left on his back.

"Told you I wouldn't break."

"Hm, do you still love me?"

You let out a huff of air, feeling his lips curl up. "Adore you, you idiot. My love is as strong as my trust in you."

"What would I do without you?"

"Said you would die."

"I would," Vernon affirms with conviction, "what would I do without anyone's mouth to spit into."

You feel absolutely no remorse delivering a light slap on his ass. "And now maybe you won't."

"Hey! You promised!"

His jolt upwards causes you both to grunt, a reminder that he's buried inside of you still. Testingly, you clench gently around him and he groans in protest.

"So, you'll do it from now on?"

He shrugs. "If that's what you want. You know I'll do anything for you."

Of course. That's another thing you love so much about him so much.

"Perfect, now spit in my mouth again, baby."

You take the opportunity when he cocks his head to the side to tug him down, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. He melts against you when your lips press against one another, readily opening his mouth when your tongue prods for entrance, now understanding what you mean.

After a long, lazy makeout session causes you to part for air, you brush your nose against his. "I don't know what you were so concerned about when we swap spit all the time."

Your name falls out of his mouth in a flustered stutter before you shut him up again with another smooch. As you giggle against his mouth, Vernon presses harder into the kiss — whether out of embarrassment or revenge — you aren't sure but you relish it. Enjoying the intimate moment with the love of your life.

onlyseokmins: January 2023 ©

Taglist: @joshibambi @pandorashbox @rubyscoups @woozluv @darlingvernon @charcharfairy @httpswonwoosglasses @yeosayang @buffhoshi @horanghae8star @noraehey @misssugarlips @onlymingyus @tinkerbell460 @aceofvernons @dejavernon

[your-local-hoemie]

ꕥ Genshin Impact ꕥ boyfriend headcanons, mondstadt boy’s edition~

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, kinda suggestive, not proof read, gn!reader.

Summary: random head cannons about some of the mondstadt boys and how they act as your boyfriend uwu. (I have no idea what I’m doing)

Characters: venti, diluc, kaeya, albedo.

this is my first attempt so I’m so sorry in advance if it’s bad 💀

(I'll also do a part 2 if anyone is interested in this train-wreck)

VENTI~

- This smug little shit

-Extremely flirty and without even trying

-ESPECIALLY when he’s decided to down another nights worth of dandelion wine in less than a hour, much to Dilucs horror

“Ehe~ Windblume, you can resonate with my anemo statue anytime you please”

“VENTI NO”

-Loves to engage in bird behaviour and bring you little trinkets he finds

-Personal space? What’s that? My man is constantly holding onto you in one way or other

-Feeling down? Be prepared to be peppered with kisses and head pats

-Will purposely come up with songs to cheer you up and has no shame in serenading you in public!

-If you’ve been overworking yourself too much he WILL intervene~

-picks you up bridal style and carries you to a quiet place no matter how much you protest

-My man is sTRONG! He may look like a scrawny himbo small but please keep in mind that this is the archon that levelled mountains!

-Literally your biggest cheerleader

“Venti what do you think of my outfit?”

“My love, even the finest wine in Tyvat could not make my head spin as much as you”

-Loves to call you overly cheesy pet-names such as: archons most beloved/sugar apple/song bird/windblume/dear

-Invites you out to Angels Share at least 4 times a day

-Brings you Cecilia's and dandelions almost every day! even if you have hayfever

-Poor boy doesn't understand flowers can be lethal

-He has ALL the time in the world so when he's not drunk off his gourde you can bet he'll be dedicating that time to you!

-He ADORES listening to you! seriously! saw a weird looking bug? he'll want to hear about it!

-Will listen to literally anything you want to talk about for hours/days/a god damn eternity!

-Will be watching you!

-I swear, he doesn't mean to be creepy he just cares about you and your safety~

-Romantic idiots~

-Random nose boops when he thinks you’re being cute

DILUC~

-A born and raised gentleman!

-Absolutely despises the idea of you doing commissions for the KOF

-If this man see's you drinking with Kaeya be prepared for the most passive aggressive of man children you can come across-

"Darling I think you've had enough to drink. please let me escort you home"

"But Kaeya was just telling me about when you were childre-"

"Kaeya? Ah~ apologies, I seem to of mistook you for a over-watered house plant"

-He is NOT having it

-Surprisingly very flirty???

-has and will continue to name new drinks after you!!

-"Man I wish I could afford that" oh you sweet thing.

-You can

-Saw a outfit you really liked? jewellery maybe?

-You can bet your perfect little peach that it'll be waiting, neatly placed in a fancy box for you at home

-Romantic date nights AND dancing under the stars god i'm lonley

-Let's you style his hair!

-It's so fluffy how could you NOT!?

-Will walk around with the flowers you put in it with pride!

-Also with a face just as red as his hair if you tell him he's pretty~

-His go to pet names for you are: darling/dear/sunshine/love

-Will open doors with a little bow for you~

-Will get jealous if a little kid says that they want to marry you when they grow up

-Breakfast in bed

-every morning without fail!

-if he can’t wake you up himself he’ll leave a cute little love note and a rose aaAAAAA

-This man is so good at aftercare omggg

-little head kisses and cuddles that not even another archon war could pull you from

-Finds it adorable seeing how well you bond with the maids and staff

-I DARE the fatui to lay a finger on you

-Or anyone in general

-He knows you can stand your own easily but poor man is just so worried

-Has given up trying to convince you not to do commissions and even accompanies you sometimes

-Will read to you before bed~

-Has you lay on his chest or lap and pets your head while reading

-Idk why but I have this hc where he’s secretly really good at making specifically cookies

-Definitely hasn't considered having a hand crafted ring with your birth stone made more than once

KAEYA~

-Oh boy

-Flirty

-Too flirty

-Man will complement your ass at least 5 times a day

-He NEEDS you to know you're attractive to him

-Romantic idiots 2.0

-Diluc and Jean have had to scold you more than once for getting into the most ridiculous situations

-Once got kicked out of Angels Share after you both decided to have a drinking competition and ended up climbing on the tables to taunt Diluc

"You can't throw us out if you can't reach us luci~"

-He could and did

-Loves to run you a bath after a long day!

-Rose petals, candles, your favourite drink. Just ask and he’ll provide~

-Likes to “help” you wash

-Supports any idea you have no matter how god awfully ridiculous it is

-Participates in said god awful ideas

-Picnics on sunny days~

-Feeds you strawberries while watching the clouds i'm going to cry

-Jean has to scold him for day dreaming about you during work

-Give him a flower crown. nOW

-You won't even be able to pry it from his dead body istg

-Literally preserves it with his cryo just to make sure it lasts

-You once persuaded Diluc to come over for dinner

-You didn't do it again

-Though they both do try to get along for you~

-Kaeya.exe will stop working if you wear a skirt no matter what you identify as

-He's not a pervert I swear he just finds you irresistible

-When the knights throw a ball you two are instantly recognised as a power couple

-Hottest guests there istg

-Endless dancing even when there's no music

"Ohoh~ we don't need instruments to dance my dear. Not when our heartbeats can be our rythem"

-Smooth little shi-

-Man has cake. don't act suprised.

-Will get so flustered if you give it a little ground shaking slap

-Purposely annoys you just to watch you get all flustered

-Fav pet names are: Love/dear/snowflake/sweetheart

ALBEDO~

-What I wouldn't do for this man

-A sweet, pure, innocent bean

-Not to mention a gentleman

-First time he realised he had feelings for you, he was so confused

-Dude was like-

"What is this feeling? I'm so sorry traveller it appears i'm not accustomed to such emotions. I will have to conduct research into this"

-You actually had to awkwardly explain what it was

-He was also the last one to find out about it

-Everyone who saw you two together knew just from his body language

-Very smiley boy

-Very blushy boy

-Doesn't pick flowers for you

-Why would he?

-Not when he can cREATE them himself!

-He's still a little confused so give him some patience

-Affectionately calls your dates "research"

-Adores everything you do

-Has a actual fucking notebook filled with everything he loves about you

-Will read it to you if you're feeling sad

-His muse

-sketches you every chance he gets

-He just thinks you're neat beautiful in a ethereal way

-Loves going on commissions with you!

-Experiments with new creations to assist with them!

-Somehow got you a music box that plays your fav song

-Cute romantic dances under the stars 2.0

-He gets too flustered to do pda but he loves to hold hands

-Gets all blushy and constantly has to clear his throat

-Precious baby

-Ask him about his experiments please I'm begging you

-He'll get so excited and explain everything he's been doing with the biggest smile you'll ever see

-Klee adores you too!

-When he see’s how well you’ve bonded with each other he can’t help but feel like his heart is going to explode with happiness and warmth

-That is until he realises his heart isn’t the thing doing the exploding

-Stop encouraging this child to blow up timmie’s birds for food you absolute menace

-likes to bake with you!

- He says it reminds him of alchemy since you combine ingredients over heat

-he also gets cake out of it so how can he refuse

-you made him wear a apron that say’s “best boyfriend” once and sucrose walked in

-he thinks about that a lot at night

-he might not have a clue of what he’s doing but he’s determined to learn for you

-you’re his greatest experiment yet~

-his go to name’s for you areee: starlight/sweetheart/muse/flower/love/dear/darling.

(I hope this was ok! I’ve wanted to write this stuff for a while but I’ve been too anxious so please be nice or I will cry 💀)

[arvensimp]

After Graduation

Just a lil arven x fem!reader insert fic of them confessing their feelings for one another after leaving the academy. Nothing crazy. uwu

...

"Hey..."

"Hey! Where are you? I've been searching all over. Did you leave already?"

"Uh. Yeah." You hear him swallow. "I did. There were just a lot of people, and..."

"Arven! C'mon! We only graduate once!" Your tone isn't really chastising, barely a mockery of teasing. "My mom wanted to get pictures of us in our cap and gowns."

"Oh! Uh, well, I-... I hadn't thought about that."

With your meteoric rise at the academy, plus Arven needing to take a bit of extra time to process everything that had happened in the aftermath of the professor's actions, it wasn't exactly surprising that the two of you were graduating together, but it definitely made you happy to be able to sit on the stage together. They don't really prepare you for how boring an actual commencement ceremony is, but it helped to have your best friend sitting by your side.

Nenoma had, of course, graduated early, and Penny chose to skip out of the ceremony entirely, choosing to get started on work with Geeta at the League at the earliest opportunity. In hindsight, maybe she had the right idea, since the ceremony itself was such a bore.

Still, you were glad to have had Arven there.

"Well, where are you now? Just come get some pictures with us. Then we can go somewhere quiet and away from all the crowds."

"Oh. Well, uh... I'm already kinda...waiting for you away from all that. I was hoping you'd meet me here when you were done?"

"Oh. Uh." Your tummy flutters just a bit. "Sure? Let me just tell Mom. Can you drop me a pin? I'll be right over."

"Can do, little buddy." You think you hear a smile on his lips before the click of the call ending.

After a rushed goodbye to your mom with promises to be back to take pictures later, you hop on your dragon, your graduation cap tucked safely into your bag, and set your course for...what looks like the middle of the lake? If memory serves, that's where you fought the last titan to save Mabosstiff.

It takes very little time to get there on the back of such a fast pokemon, and judging by what seems to be a lamp's glow, it looks like Arven has set up camp for himself in the very same cave you'd found yourselves in not terribly long ago.

You dismount your pokemon and return him to his ball before dusting off your graduation gown.

"Arven?" You call, venturing into the mouth of the cave.

"Over here!" He replies, drawing you to him with the sound of his voice and a wave. His graduation gown is already undone, revealing a tidy dress shirt and vest beneath. You also see Mabosstiff at his side give a great big boof in greeting.

In no time you've made it over to him and are wrapped up in a massive ursaring hug.

"Hey, little buddy," He says warmly, his soft hair brushing against your cheek. He smells like firewood and baking bread, and you have to take a moment to prevent yourself from getting lost in him.

"Hi! I'm sad you didn't stick around! What do you have going on here though?" You disengage from the hug and prop your fists up on your waist with a nod to the set table decked out with all sorts of tapas as well as some beautifully made sandwiches.

Arven chuckles a bit and runs a hand through his hair, pushing a tuft from his eye before it falls back. "I, uh... Well, we wanted to thank you. For getting us this far." At his side, Mabosstiff barks. You can tell now he's wearing a sweet little bow tie.

"He wouldn't... I don't know if I... I mean. I would. I just... Well, if you hadn't helped us back then...? Ugh, I'm just trying to say that we-- I'm. I'm really grateful to have you. You're really special." He sounds more flustered than choked up, but the emotion is definitely there.

"Hey," you reply, placing a hand on his upper arm. It's warm even through all the fabric. "Thanks. You're really special, too. You know that?" The words feel so cheesy coming out of your mouth, but they're in the open air before you can stop them. At the very least, the dim lighting of the cave means he shouldn't notice your face heating up.

"A-anyway," He chokes, "I just... I wanted to make you something special...and take you back to where it all really...ya know...came together. F...for us."

For us? Did he mean you and him? Or him and Mabosstiff? This was the place where the poor pokemon finally seemed to fully snap back to reality, but it was also where the two of you really started to click well... Nah, it had to be him and Mabosstiff. Those two were thick as thieves... And just...

"Oh, yes! Look at him! And his tie!" You lean down to hug the dog and give him some good rubs. "I'm happy every day that we got you all sorted, buddy boy!"

Arven stays quiet, and when you look back up at him through your eyelashes, he's breathtaking in his soft sweetness and in the way he's looking so gently at you and his partner pokemon. It almost makes you want to curl up and hide.

Before you can react, he kneels down to get on yours and Mabosstiff's level. "I think we both thank our lucky stars every day to have met you, ya know?" He very deliberately makes sure to look at you when he says it, but as soon as the words are out in the open he bites his lip and looks away. One of his hands is clinging to the dog's fur, running purposefully and slowly through the thick strands.

"I-..." You choke a bit.

"You're... You're important to us. To me." The hand on Mabosstiff deliberately finds yours and entwines your fingers.

"Me too..." You find yourself saying, squeezing his fingers in return. God, you hope your mouth isn't gaping open like a Magikarp as you look at him. He's just...so pretty... And you like him so much, it hurts. God, you like him so much. And oh my God he's looking at you?

"I've liked you for so long." Arven finally admits. "I can't pin down an exact moment, but our time in this cave was as good a moment as any. You... You helped make me a whole man again. You--"

You move before you can even think of it, tackling Arven to the mossy floor of the cave, pressing your mouth to his in an elated kiss.

"I like you too!" You reply softly but excitedly as you pull away just a bit, maintaining your straddle overtop of him. "I don't know exactly when it started either, but... But I have! For a while now!" You kiss him again, this time he eagerly meets you in it, one hand threading through your hair while the other rests gently at your waist.

"I'm...I'm so glad," he mumbles into your lips between kisses.

You take the opportunity to dust his cheeks with soft smooches as his hands nervously flit about your form, never straying terribly far from your waist. You absolutely don't mind. It's nice just feeling his warmth, experiencing this newness that you purposefully didn't allow yourself to agonize over imagining for ages.

Eventually you come to a resting place with your cheek on his chest, his hands at the small of your back. The silence is comfortable.

"I...I feel like 'little buddy' doesn't quite work as a nickname for you now?" Arven finally says, making you snort. "I-I mean...if we wanted to, uh...make this official?"

"Yeah, no, I guess it wouldn't work as a nickname." You nuzzle into his chest. "Any other ideas? Cute names for a girlfriend?" You tease.

"Hm..." A hand of his drifts to scratch lovingly at the back of your neck, making you groan happily. "Little lady?"

"Hmm... Maybe? That's not bad."

"We'll workshop it?"

"We'll workshop it " You agree.

[makethatelevenrings]

Okay, if it's okay for you to write this little idea I had. So, uhm, you know a little angst in which reader is a vigilante (a very good one) but they get hurt protecting some people, Jason has no idea until they see reader in the Batcave sleeping and trying to get better. All this for him to have an epiphany and understanding he wants to be with reader even tho he's afraid and kinda sucks at feelins. Happy ending, please, because reader vigilante is a badass and wouldn't let Jason alone in this big bad world uwu

"Mission report," Jason announced as he climbed off his bike. "Got the victims safely out of the building and to medical care before the warehouse went...boom."

"And did this building go boom because of them? Or you?" Tim asked as he typed Jason's report into the database.

"Need to know, Timbo." He removed his helmet and tossed it onto the desk next to his younger brother. "Am I the last one in?"

Tim stiffened just slightly, but he dipped his chin in affirmation. "Steph and Cass are back with Oracle. Damian is...he's in the med bay."

With you, the words went unspoken. Jason pushed away from the desk and beelined for the med bay. Bruce, still in his suit, was bent over you on a cot while Alfred flitted about the small area. Damian sat next to the cot, his face drawn tight with shame.

"How are they?" Jason asked quietly. "What happened?"

Your eyelids didn't flutter. Didn't crack open at all, giving him a glimpse of the mischievous glint always present in them. You just stayed still and limp against the white sheets.

"It's my fault," Damian explained. "I...they jumped in front of me and took a knife aimed at my back."

Bruce was silent as he bandaged up your thigh. Jason moved to stand next to his father and he reached out to smooth a hand along your cheek. Dirt smudged along your nose and jaw and he rubbed it away.

"Nah, not your fault, baby bird," Jason assured him. He knew the kid was beating himself up. "They're the most stubborn, self-sacrificial motherfucker I've ever met."

It's why I love them, he wanted to say. Hell, he wanted to scream it. He wanted to pull you into his lap and cradle you, keeping away all the violence and rage he had experienced. He knew you chose this life just like he did. You wanted to help in your own way. Didn't mean he had to like it.

"They'll be okay," Bruce finally said. "Bed rest for a week and no patrol for a month, but they'll be fine. It'll leave a scar, but that's about it."

Another scar on your precious skin. Jason nodded, but he didn't tear his eyes away from your sleeping face. "Dilaudid?"

Bruce hummed an affirmative as he secured the bandage and pulled a blanket up to your shoulders. "It'll wear off in about four hours. They'll get a painkiller every six hours. Alfred will make sure they stay on schedule. You'll stay here?"

There was some sort of unsaid hope in Bruce's eyes. Jason hesitated but if it meant you being safe and secure in the Manor with top of the line medical care just a few feet away, then yeah, he would stay.

"Let's go, Damian. You need rest. You can come see them in the morning," Bruce ordered.

"But-" The youngest Wayne clearly didn't want to leave the side of the person he felt he failed.

"Go, demon brat. I'll be here all night. Promise," Jason assured him. Damian looked between him and the sleeping figure between them and then nodded sharply.

"I expect you to care for them to your upmost ability," Damian said. Little shit was terrified of admitting that he cared.

"With my life," Jason swore.

The cave slowly emptied out as people headed to bed. Jason waited until Alfred left before he slipped away from your bedside and returned with a small cloth and a bottle of mask solvent. Carefully, he eased the glue off of your face and removed your domino mask, laying it on the small nightstand next to the cot. His followed shortly after.

"Jay?" you slurred. A small smile lifted at the corner of his lips and he gently moved you over before sliding in next to you. His arm encircled your waist and he nestled his chin on top of your head.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

I'll be here every day. Every morning and every night. I'll be here as long as you want me to be around. As long as you can stand me. Until I end up in a coffin again and even then, I'd dig my way out and crawl back to you all over again.

[papirouge]

I gave up on being pro life publicly and online. The genocide in the Congo and in Gaza have proved it to me that many western women who run those pro life accounts don’t care for children. Many babies have been lost due to hospital bombings. More children are displaced with no families.

I’ve tried reaching out when they talk about saving children in generic posts because very real babies are losing their lives by IDF terrorism. And I get blocked or I get told “that’s different/ they’re Muslim/they should have left already/I don’t care” over and over and over again. The countless videos are already out that have children begging and crying for their families they lost or the homes that can’t be saved. Some of the worst messages I read criticized and blame the Palestinian men too that they should be protecting the kids, so when they die, it’s actually Palestinians fault. Not the IDF. Meanwhile those “young men” are just teenagers because their parents are dead. The Congolese topic is worst. Many are begging people to stop buying the iPhone 15 to raise awareness over the issues there but I got told by one girl who likes to call herself an anti woke submissive wife that she couldn’t care less about the Congo, she’s going to do whatever her husband wants, if that means ignoring genocide then that’s what she will do too. It’s her god given to have freedom over dead bodies l…

I’m fed up. I’m sick of the hypocrisy. I’m sick of seeing stupid homestead content of how they’re at peace taking care of a home as they purposefully condone genocide. If some hacker group exposed all these “submissive Godly trad wife” accounts as being agents for Israel to distract the west from IDF war crimes, I wouldn’t be surprised the least. Their apathy is demonic

@not-your-average-prolifer is the only pro life blog who passed the vibe check as far as I know. She reblogged posts about the emergency of pregnant women in Palestine and also post about mental health of middle east women. I think she is left leaning (correct me if I'm wrong!) so I'm not surprised to see her with more empathy about whatever's happening to women abroad, unlike Conservatives who are extremely stupid & uneducated when it comes to foreign affairs, if not straight up xenophobic.

I hope for every single Christian I know to never open their mouth about uwu Christianism is from Middle east uwu ever again the next time someone calls Christianism white man's religion or I'll go berserk on them. They better shut up forever. They had no problem to keep their mouth shut witnessing the martyrdom of our brothers - they better keep it that way permanently and stop summoning their struggle once it's convenient to them. YES, they proved they definitely consider Christianism a white man thing, considering our little care they have for our (non white) Christian brothers overseas. They better keep them out of their mouth permanently.

"They're Muslim" it's been well documented that there are Christians in Palestine. But even if they weren't, Christ wants everyone to be saved and accept him as their lord and savior - refusing to extend some basic empathy to people being bombed and killed in their sin is not the way to go. Never forget that Jesus didn't heal or saved only Jews, but also pagans, prostitutes, etc. It's insane how so unemphatic "Christians" have become.

Christian Palestinians are actually some of the oldest Christians - like, where do they those idiots think Jerusalem was?? where did the Pentecost happen? IN MIAMI?? KANSAS?? "They should have left" WHERE?? aren't the ppl pulling out this argument the same crybabies whining about woke culture destroying western civilization? Why didn't they leave the western zone already??? Also aren't they the same against immigration and how men fleeing their country are lazy cowards? so why are they mad at Palestinians sticking to their land?? Damn, Western politicians/diplomacy have the opportunity to do the funniest thing possible and mass import Palestinians in western countries to abide Zionists requirements in Israel 💀

And LOL oh so now Palestinian men are supposed to protect children? what are they supposed to do when the IDF is bombing their house? Take weapons to defend/get back their land and shit? Oh my bad, that makes them terrorists (and let's be clear : what happened on October 7th is unjustifiable but let's not act like the Hamas wasn't called terrorist much earlier than that). It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't. If they do nothing, they're cowards, and if they do, they are terrorists - because in this case, resistance is defiance. Ultimately they just want to deflect from their own lack on empathy and find a rational explanation to that.

Conservative scrotes are the LAST people who should lecture anyone about defending the children when there are acting bullying kids young enough to be their grandchildren calling them wokes, leftists, or whatever. I won't even start about gun violence and how deflective they are about protecting the children only to protect their precious right to carry. Ghouls. They only care abt unborn babies because they are unable to call them out on their bs yet. Once they do, they'll cuss them, call them woke, and all sort of -ists.

On TikTok there was a Christian girl saying how Christians are "too emotional" and how we should keep supporting "God chosen people" (Israel). I already made a post calling out how this "god chosen people " narrative didn't stand now that we were in the NEW COVENANT. But let's follow her train of thought: isn't humankind made from God image? Where do emotions come from? Didn't God himself have emotion? Why? What's the right or wrong place to have emotion? She and all the clown who agreed with her would never be able to reply those questions. We've all seen the videos. I did what I could to avoid them but they're quite unavoidable at this point. What's the correct emotion after seeing 2 kids younger than 10 carrying a third one crying while one of his foot was hanging with only one tendon?? This girl, along with every single Christian unmoved by this disaster has to shut up. Their heart is a stone and they should stop trying to lecture people who still have a heart made of flesh. We're not the same. Christ is PEACE. Not war or violence.

And girl, you really shouldn't even engage with women labelling themselves "anti woke submissive wife" 💀 why would you expect them to care about anything but their idol (husband)? Stay focus on what really matters. Peace and God. We're in the end times and God is slowly but surely unfolding the truth. The masks are slipping. Take note of all the so called who remained silent witnessing satan action, take proper action, and go on.