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tenjikufag · 4 months

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Your blog is damn good! Is it possible to make a scar x top male reader where the reader will pay special attention to its mark on the neck (I FORGOT THE NAME SORRY). Just a gentle nsfw if possible, thanks in advance! I'm sorry, I don't know English well, so sorry for the bad spelling. 😭

My favourite.

Scar x Top!Male Reader

-fluff, soft nsfw (no sex, just foreplay.)

-thank you for the request and kind words! I hope this is alright.

Scar whimpered in your lap, hips sliding him back and forth into you. Smiling at the males desperation to be touched, your hands made their way around his neck. He looked at you with a hazy, glossed over expression.

Your thumb ran across his tacet mark delicately, his breathe hitched at the feeling. The male smiled, raising his chin to allow better access to his throat.

You needed no more instructions, leaning in and softly kissing the mark.

Peppering gentle kisses along the black design on his skin, his breath became laboured with the excitement building in his chest.. Scar felt as if he would pass out when your hands gently squeezed the sides of his neck.

Nipping at the end of the etched mark, a soft chuckle of yours tickled his neck but he tensed up. He pulled away from you, arms still wrapped around your neck as he leaned in and caught your lips. With an aroused desperation he sucked and bit at your lips, responding to your quick acceptance with parted lips- he was yours, indefinitely, his whole body was yours to explore.

Scar relished in the tender touch you had, never had he experienced such a love- to be at the end of all your endless affection had his chest exploding with nothing but excitement for the future you would share together.

He whined quietly when you pulled your mouth from his, disappointed at the lost connection.

You returned to kissing and biting his tacet mark.

It was sensitive, almost painful with the way you abused the spot. The feeling was indescribable, the jolts it send down his spine, the dull pang of hypersensitivity, how it made him flinch with every nip and lap you took to his skin.

The male mewled when you sucked on the soft skin, music to your ears with every breathy moan and whine he made.

His hips started to buck and grind against you, needy for friction with the special attention his neck was getting. You laid him down, his loose shirt exposing more than it ought to as he slid up to get comfortable.

Scar couldn’t help but smile up at you, intently waiting as you got on top of him and kissed his nose. Wrapping your arms under his waist, he brought his hips up- his hard on brushing against your body making him shudder.

“You’re so pretty.”

He blushed and bit his lip- yelping at your hand palming him overtop his pants.

Before he could react in any protest, your lips peppered kisses over his facial scars.

He wasn’t insecure about them, it was only that his chest had yet again swelled with love and warmth with the soft lips that fluttered over them with such care. Such dignity.

You weren’t scared of his scars, you didn’t mind them or even really show any care outside of these moments.

You weren’t scared of his tacet marks.

You weren’t scared of him.

“Please.. mark my neck, I want to see how much you love me.”

Smiling, you nodded and left a long lick down the side of his neck and got to work marking him down to his collarbone.

Only when you got near the mark again did you take more care to not hurt him.. it drove him crazy.

Your breathe, your warm tongue passing over, even the near suckling sound he heard and felt with every new mark drove his head into a dizzied craze.

That damn tacet mark would be the death of him, one way or another.

But, at least this way it was by you.

He would die by your hands any day, and he would take your love and adoration for eternity.

#wuthering waves x male reader #wuwa x male reader #scar x male reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa scar x male reader

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iarchmybaculaa · 2 months

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Suggestive!

Fic is a standalone drabble-ish? That I wrote on a whim 😭

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x black fem reader

Tags: suggestive context, allusions to sexual acts, 2018 BTS, Jungkook is in love, FLUFFFFFF!!!

Tag list: @ririkookiemonster @le3worl @freshmoondragon

You watch as the other Armys file out of the arena, hearts so filled to the brim with joy, that their bodies eject it as tears. Most of them leave with their army bombs in one hand, and their freebies in the other.

You on the other hand? You find yourself with your army bomb in one hand, and the weight of what you assume is a ridiculously expensive pen in the other.

Your heart thumps so erratically in your chest, that you feel like if you swallowed too hard it would end up in the depth of your stomach. You’re not sure why you’re this nervous; not sure why your palms always sweat and your breaths become so shallow.

Mayhaps it’s the scandalousness of it all.

There’s a bottle of water on the small table in front of you, a straw already poking out of the cap. You roll your eyes as you unscrew the cover and gulp it down. The boots are starting to hurt your feet, but you keep them on. They look powerful, sexy.

They make you feel sexy.

And God knows you need to keep feeling that way for as long as possible to keep up the facade of confidence.

You’re too restless to sit, so you walk over to the one way window, and watch the droves of people scurry out of the venue. You’re far up enough that they almost look like ants.

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the door open and close. You barely catch on to the sound of approaching footsteps before there’s a pair of long arms snaking around your waist. Your body tenses before you relax into the hold, knowing it could only be one person.

“Hi,” you say in an almost breathless whisper.

He mumbles out a soft greeting in return, the sound getting lost in the crook of your neck as he plants his lips there

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, hands caressing the section of your stomach that’s exposed.

Despite the warmth spreading through your entire body, you can’t help but giggle a bit. You wondered how long he would keep repeating the very first question he’d ever asked you.

A part of you wishes he’ll keep doing it forever.

An even bigger part of you prays that you’ll always be there to hear it.

He spins you around, grateful that your hair is caught in a bun. It’s not that he minds having to push your braids back, and Lord knows how much he enjoys wrapping them around his hands and pull- he’s getting off track.

The point is, you have such a beautiful face. From your brown eyes to your full, two toned lips, to the pretty charm that dangles from your nose.

Fuck, he loves you.

But he can’t tell you that. Not when the only thing keeping you together is a stupid contract he makes you sign every time he wants to bury himself inside you.

The room is quiet, it always is when you two do this. The sound of your laboured breaths is the only thing left filling the space. Jungkook Isn't the best at English, and you aren’t the best at Korean. But Jungkook is confident that your pussy invented Hangul with how fluently she speaks to him.

You both have a common language.

Pleasure.

And you give it to each other so easily, so well that if you really did tell anyone that you and Jungkook were fuck buddies, He would contact the press himself to let them know it was true.

Jungkook is a beautiful singer. He knows that; it’s the entirety of his existence . It’s his job. But the sounds that you pull out of him? The sounds that come out of your mouth?

Jungkook is in, deep.

And not just inside you.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You make beautiful music together. Your harmonised moans and the synchronized slapping of skin as your hips meet far outdo anything that Jungkook thinks Yoongi will ever be able to produce (not that he’d ever tell his hyung that)

Jungkook kisses you like a man starved, like he’s scared that you will disappear, that the mere thought of having to wait to have you again drives him absolutely insane. (Because it does).

Jungkook takes his time to explore you, to learn you, to love you for as long as he can. Every time.

He fucks you like he wants you to remember him for a long time. How he feels, how he looks, how well he takes you.

And his reasons are very simple.

He has no way to contact you. You’ve never exchanged numbers, or even email addresses, because that’s how NDAs work.

NDAs in the entertainment industry are used mostly to protect an artist's image after their one night stands. They work because it will likely be the first and only last time someone is in such close proximity to the artist.

But you and Jungkook keep finding each other.

You because you keep showing up to concerts, and him because he keeps looking for you. Searching row by row, seat by seat until he spots you. Jungkook thinks he’d be able to find you in a sea of a million people (if they ever became that popular)

Your hookups always end with Jungkook kissing all over your face, telling you in the cutest, most reverent mix of broken English and the most delicate Korean how beautiful you are as he helps you get dressed.

He sneaks money into your purse, like he always does when you’re not looking, with a note that says “eat” on it and nothing else. He bends at your feet so you can use his shoulders as leverage to put on your shoes, and insists on carrying your freebies and merch in one hand whilst intertwining your fingers with the other.

He always thinks it’s so strange how you’ve never asked him for anything. No merch, no free tickets, no pictures…nothing. You’re content with spending your own money to come to the shows because you actually love his craft; because you love his members. And that means more to him that he'll e er be able to express to you.

So sue him if he tosses VIP sound check lanyards to their upcoming shows in your massive tote bag of merch, and charge him if he slips in one of his necklaces from tonight’s set along with it.

Jungkook can buy a million necklaces, and perform at a thousand other shows. But he can only find one you, and he intends to keep you.

He smiles as you hold onto his pinky, rambling on and on about what a great time you had at the concert, and how sexy everyone was. The hotel corridor is empty, your excited voice bounces off the walls and Jungkook adores it.

He doesn’t understand most of it, but he loves you.

You chatter away right up until Jungkook leads you into the backseat of the unmarked car his manager is driving. He places your bags on the seat beside you, and fastens your seatbelt.

He brings your noses together and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“See you next time.” He says, because saying “I love you” would be very stupid of him.

“Next time” you agree, because wrapping yourself around him and refusing to leave would probably get you slapped with a restraining order.

But as the door slides shut and you watch as Jungkook disappears from your view, you smile.

Because there will be a next time.

There will always be a next time.

Fin

#jungkook x reader #bts #jungkook x black reader #iarchmybaculaa #smuff #nda #drabble #jungkooksmut

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cactus-cactus-cactus · 1 year

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THIS IS SO SICK AND TWISTED. Rosaline babygirl I can be a better boyfriend than Berowne. And also a better girlfriend than Princess. BBG…….

#loves labours lost musical #love’s labour’s lost

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 8 months

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god i should know better than to start listening to a new-to-me recording in the car

#several of these songs so far have already had me bust out laughing #which is bad when you’re driving #i’ve gotten through dumaine’s sonnet which is probably the funniest song so far i DIED #musicals #musical theatre #musical theater #love’s labour’s lost #love’s labor’s lost #shakespeare #william shakespeare #theatre #theater

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ltwilliammowett · 1 year

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Sea Shanties and Shipboard Music aboard Warships

Traditionally, sea shanties were sung on board both warships and merchant ships to help light the work involved in sailing the ship. They are usually divided into two main groups - capstan shanties, designed to accompany the hard effort involved in heaving on the bars of the ship's capstan, and halyard shanties, where either the rhythm or the words were designed to help the men pull together, for instance when raising a sail pr raising up a new spar to the masthead.

Most shanties follow the same pattern, with short versesand boisterous but repetitive choruses. Sometimes the lyrics were either made up aas the seamen went along, or else improvised or repeated, especially if the task proved longer than the shanty. The words were often less important than the rhythm of the song, although some shanties such Shenandoah or Blow the Man Down have become famous as songs in their own right. Oh and by the way the first known shanties date from the mid-16th century, recorded in the Complaynt of Scotland (1549), but their origins probably lie much further back than that.

It has been argued that sea shanties were much more commonplace on merchant vessels than on warships, as the later were comparatively well manned, so the labour involved in sailing the ship was less arduous. This theory isn't borne out by what we know about life in the sailing navies of the world. While shanties might have been less commonly used as working songs, they were widdely sung as a means of recreation. Music was important on board a sailing man o'war, and instruments such as fiddles, fifes and flutes were often played when sailors were off-duty. And the sailors loved singing on board until ordered to their hammocks at pipe down, these shanties are known as fo'c's'le songs or forebitters. Dancing was also popular, and many captains encouraged it, as a way of keeping spirits high and of providing exercise.

Popular songs in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars were Nancy Dawson, Spanish Ladies and Drops of Brandy and some ships carried an official band, and during the approach of the British Fleet to the enemy at the Battle of Trafalgar, many ships played Rule Britannia, Hearts of Oak or Britons Strike Home.

Shanties during work on board depended on the captain, because not everyone wanted music. It was more like silence aboard a warship so that the men could hear the orders better and not get lost in the singing. But it also happened that there was singing or a flute was played when the anchor was being aweight but that mostly depending on the situation on the ship.

Well the truth was, music such as sea shanties made the work appear easier, whether on board a merchant vessel or a warship. But the shanties went out of favour with the coming of steam. With no sails to raise, and with steam powered capstans there was little need to sing during work. By the later 19th century they had lost their original workmanlike purpose, and shanties became something that were sung for fun and get mixed with the so called sailors songs, rather than as a song of work.

#naval history #sea shanties #mid 16th century -19th century #age of discovery #age of sail #age of steam

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.3K]

You hadn’t expected Steve Harrington to ask you out on a date and you certainly hadn’t expected it to go as well as it had. A shared pizza, two shakes and feet touching under the table, a once popular boy who was surprisingly soft and sweet, all pretty words and messy hair and eager to hold your hand.

He made you laugh, liked the same music as you and loved the way your nose scrunched you when you got embarrassed.

But despite all of that, all the time you spent together, it was still a surprise to you that Steve wanted to be your boyfriend, that he wanted to keep spending time with you, always smiling when you appeared, always wanting you close, enjoying your touch, your warmth.

You’d never been someone’s girlfriend before and the idea of it used to keep you up at night, wondering what you were supposed to do, how you were supposed to act. But being with Steve was surprisingly easy.

It had been almost two months of new experiences, new feelings, new firsts.

First date, first kiss, first time meeting his friends, first time introducing him to your parents. First mixtape, first time in your room, in his.

And that’s where you were now, laid out pretty against his pillows, Steve hovering over you with a knee between your thighs, doing his best to keep his weight off of you as he kissed you.

Everything he did was careful, every touch was soft. He knew you hadn’t had much experience with boys, he’d watched you stumble over your words as your tried to talk through your embarrassment about it, ‘cause what girl your age had only kissed three people? Hands above clothes in the front seat of someone’s car, wondering if you were doing it right?

But Steve had shrugged and smiled, told you that it was okay and everything that you did together was at your pace, at your discretion. It made you feel a bit better, knowing that he knew, watching how his brown eyes softened for you - not in sympathy, but understanding. So every time Steve kissed you, it was slow and almost chaste, a pretty press of his lips against yours and as nice as it always was, you always felt like you were ready to chase him for more.

You were too shy though, unsure what to do, how to ask, completely lost at how to take charge. Steve looked at you like you hung the moon but he touched you as if you were as delicate as one of the stars beside it.

Even now, he kept his hand curled around your waist, despite the way your legs were spread and bent for him, despite the way the hem of your dress fell high around your thighs. The other was pushed to the pillow by your head to keep himself off of you, chest barely brushing yours and although you couldn’t see it, Steve was fisting the cushion in his palm in an effort to control the way he wanted to grind down into you.

You’d been kissing for an age, lips rosy and plush, chest rising and falling a little faster than it had before because Steve was just too pretty. It was a tease, the way he kissed you, soft and slow before pushing his mouth to yours just a little rougher before pulling back, as if he was catching himself.

He was a gentleman about it all, hands on your side despite the way be squeezed you a little harder if you gave out a particularly breathy sigh, lips parting over your own but never licking into you, always keeping his body lifted from your own.

It was maddening. It was sweet, it was considerate, but oh my god, it was absolutely maddening.

So you pulled away ever so slightly, fingers slipping away from where they were curled around the boy’s bicep and Steve gazed down at you, eyes open and concerned.

Fuck, he was pretty. Hair a little wild despite not being brave enough to card your fingers through it yet, cheeks flushed and pink, lips slick with your cherry gloss and pouty.

“Hey,” his breath was laboured, his voice a little rough and it made your thighs clench. “Y’okay? Did I do something wr—”

You shook your head, feeling flushed, feeling too warm and you were burning inside but you knew you had to say, you knew what you wanted and how to get it. Steve was yet to say no to you, you’d noticed. Always wanting to please, always caving and letting you choose the movie when you looked up at him doe eyed.

Eddie told him he was whipped. Robin laughed and agreed. Steve didn’t argue at all.

“No, no,” you assured him and god, your voice was as weak as Steve’s. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And he hadn’t. Not at all.

Steve raised his brows, waiting.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, nose scrunched up as you broke eye contact and stared at his ceiling light instead. “I— I won’t, y’know…”

Steve smoothed your hair back from your eyes, hand cupping your jaw, a thumb pushed soft at the plush of your cheek. He was smiling, just slightly, kind enough that you didn’t think he was making fun of you.

“Baby,” he coaxed, “what is it? You can tell me.”

You bit down on your lip as you met his gaze again, cheeks warm and you were sure he could feel the heat from them under his hand. If he did, he didn’t say, but you tried to distract him, poked a finger to the middle of his bottom lip and smiled when he nipped at it playfully.

“Baby,” Steve tried again.

“I’m not gonna break,” you blurted out, sudden and almost too loud for the quiet of the room. “Shit, sorry, I meant…”

Steve waited, eyes a little wide with surprise but patience rolled off of him in waves and he didn’t pull away, didn’t push. He just… waited.

“Yeah, no, I meant that,” you whispered, tracing the line of his Cupid’s bow, eyes soft and imploring as you looked up at him. “I’m not gonna break when you touch me. I like it when you touch me, when you kiss me. You can just—”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say after that. Everything sounded dirty as you tried it out in your head and despite what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself. Steve was more than patient with you, too patient, which is why you were in this current position but god, what were you trying to tell him?

Touch me rougher? Kiss me harder? Go a little faster?

It all made your cheeks burn and your heart beat too fast.

Maybe Steve realised this, ‘cause he ducked down to kiss sweetly at the corner of your lips, pressing a line of them along your cheek and jaw.

“Hey,” he murmured, nudging at your nose with his own, affectionate and fond. “You know you can tell me anything, right? You can ask me for whatever you want… if you want to stop or—”

“Steve, god, that’s the opposite of what I want.”

The boy fell silent, mouth parted in a soft, pink ‘o’. He licked his lips, stumbling over what he wanted to say, what he felt like he was supposed to say. He didn’t want to pressure you, he didn’t want to make you feel like you had to do something that you didn’t want to.

But you kept talking, voice was soft and sweet as it always was and he fucking adored the way your nose wrinkled as you spoke, uncertainty and shyness tinting your pretty features.

“I want you to kiss me how you want to kiss me.”

Steve was silent, still hovering above you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

He didn’t ask what you meant, he knew. There was no point in playing dumb, you were too smart and he knew that you knew, that he’d held himself back, been a little more gentlemanly than he’d maybe wanted to. ‘Cause he could stay about your waist and keep his hands over your pretty, little summer dresses but there was no hiding the way he looked at you.

Like he wanted to eat you up.

“Yeah?” Steve managed, saying it like a sigh, the tension and relief palpable in his voice.

His hand trailed from your cheek, curved around the side of your throat, thumb pushed to your pulse point. You were buzzing underneath him, eyes all wide and hopeful, nodding up at him.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

So Steve shifted, ever so slightly, down onto his elbows as he brought his hips into the cradle of yours. Your dress was already hitched up indecently high from the way you’d squirmed on top of the sheets for him and now, the denim of the boy’s jeans pressed into the cotton on your underwear, the bare skin on the inside of your legs.

He settled there, watching the way your eyes widened as you felt how hard he was for you and it took everything he had not to rock himself forward. Steve knew what you’d asked him, but he was still so unsure how far you wanted to go. So he kissed your cheek, the top of your nose, a soft peck on your lips before pulled back and asked:

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, breath held in your chest until it burned because you could feel all of him. Steve smiled, something a little dirty hidden there, a new kind of excitement shining in his eyes. He hummed, leaned down, pressed his lips to yours in another gentle kiss - too gentle - and it made you want to whine out of frustration.

But then his hand caught yours, the one that was trying to pull at the front of his shirt and he twisted your fingers between his, pushing your hand up and into the pillow pinning it there as he pressed into you. You gasped, a tiny hiccuped sound that made his eyes squeeze shut.

“Is that okay?”

Your free hand grabbed at his hip, finger hooking into his belt loop and you tugged Steve into you, nodding so your nose jumped against his, breath falling heavy over his lips as he kept up his sweet kisses.

He rolled his hips when you arched your back, other hand grabbing - really grabbing - at your thigh, palm on bare skin, hitching it to his side so he could push into you more.

Steve pressed you down into his bed like that, one hand pinned above you, your leg hiked high over his hip so you could feel how hard he was for you, dress splayed scandalous between you both.

“Baby,” Steve hedged, voice wrecked, rough, low. “Is this—”

You didn’t let him finish, surging up to push your lips to his, catching his mouth in a kiss that was a little messy, clumsy and kind off target. But Steve groaned, loud and dirty for you, pushing you back into the pillows as his hand squeezed yours. His mouth parted over your own, lips catching your bottom first, then your top, sucking soft and nipping rough at them before he licked into you.

His tongue was a push and press against yours as he swallowed your pretty noises, moaning into you, hips faltering as you rutted up every time he rocked down. You were throbbing, skin too hot, marked up with crescent moon shaped indents where Steve was holding onto you, lips mouthing lilac coloured bruises over your jaw and throat when you threw your head back.

It went on like that for god knows how long, frenzied and hot, mapping over new parts of each other that you hadn’t touched yet, discovering amazingly dirty things about the other.

Steve groaned something filthy when you ran your fingers through his hair, held on and tugged a little. He liked it even more when you did it in response to something he did, an open mouthed kiss that trailed across your collarbones, down to the bare skin on your chest that had you pulling a little mean.

He loved your gasps, quiet and pretty, loved it even more when you got a little louder, a little braver. You whined for him when he let his hand drop from where he held your thigh, palming roughly as your ass under your dress, squeezing tight.

Steve kissed you until your jaw ached, lips pink and swollen, kiss bitten and raw from where his slight stubble scratched against you. You only drew apart when someone knocked on the front door, a jarring fist on wood that had Steve scrambling off of you to look out of the window.

Whoever it was gave up and left, Steve lying over you with a grin, both of you hiding your laughter in each others necks, trying to stay quiet on his bed like two lovesick teenagers that weren’t supposed to be doing what they were doing.

Steve gazed down at you as you caught your breath, licking at his bottom like he could chase the taste of you and he tucked your hair behind your ear. He hummed when you shifted beneath him, stretched yourself out and wiggled, body tight from curling into him for so long.

His voice was rough and sticky with fondness when he spoke.

“Was that okay?” The boy asked you, trying for innocence, for coy, but his smile was so big that you wanted to hide.

You scrunched your nose and pushed at him, smiling into the pillow as you rolled away. “Shut up,” you told him, not meaning it. “Yes, that was okay.”

Steve chased you, laughing softly, not at all unkind, peppering kisses to the parts of your face that he could find amongst the cushions.

“So I can do that again?”

You turned to him, eyes hooded, a new kind of expression on your face, one that he’d only seen today. You looked too pretty to handle, he thought, a little vixen, some kind of demon, dressed up cute in a sundress.

“Yeah,” you told him, voice ever so soft. “Please do.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #UDWS10K

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