#props to anon for the prompt

[winxwannabe]

41. ”your hands are so cold!” and musa x stella

“You’ve gotta stop worrying about the details.”

“I’m not worried. I’m perfectly calm.”

“Uh-huh. You’re doing the foot thing.”

Musa immediately stops the foot thing - tapping her left one from side to side on the edge of the carpet. But in the second it takes her brain to process she’s even doing it, Stella takes her hand in both of hers. Her gasp is less surprised and more akin to a ha! “And your hands are so cold!”

“Stella!”

The Solarian princess lets go before Musa can move, and promptly disappears out the door of the recording booth. “I’m just saying, hon.” Stella’s voice is fainter, but still clear. “This doesn’t seem like a very inspiring place for making music.”

“C’mon. Jason pulled a lot of strings to get me in here. If I can show these execs what I can do, it’ll be a huge push for my career.”

Through the glass, Musa watches her eyebrows knit together in distaste. “I still don’t like that guy. We’re fighting to protect the whole universe from the Black Circle, and he still thinks you need to prove something. That’s sleazy with a capital ick.”

Musa smiles lightly as Stella comes back into the booth, carrying a bright blue cardigan that she’d stuffed in her bag before they left. “I’m just saying,” Stella continues, draping the fabric over Musa’s shoulders. “You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. And if someone tries to tell you otherwise, you direct them to me, okay?”

Some sort of magic charm is on the cardigan - there has to be, because the moment she slips her arms into it it feels like she’s next to a campfire on a summer night. Or backstage at Red Fountain, ready to put her future at Alfea on the line for the sake of singing. Stella had been there, too, doing the same doting, hovering routine. It was funny how little some things changed over the years. “Thanks for worrying about me, Stel. Really.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, sweetie.” Stella leans forward and kisses her on the nose. “Now show ‘em what you got.”

2x15 of 4Kids Winx is one of the only times Stella goes all out with pet names with someone who isn’t Brandon and I’m here for it. I’m answering prompts for NaNo! Send me a number and a ship for a drabble.

[lovebugism]

smutty requests you say... maybe eddie x reader fooling around secretly, while wayne's home? so like a little exhibitionism kink?

i'm just now realizing i totally misread the prompt so pls forgive me anon, i'll happily write a part 2 to this if u want!! — the first time uncle wayne catches you and eddie in the act™ (established relationship, inspired by this universe, smut 18+ | 1.3k)

“Alright. I’m headed out,” Wayne announces in a gravelly drawl, huffing as he rises from his creaking recliner. His work boots sound heavy on the worn carpet as he trudges towards the front door, closer to a wretched and unavoidable graveyard shift. His old bones are weighed down by a preemptive dread and a homemade meal you cooked with him in mind.

Eddie feels bad for being so happy to see him leave.

“Have fun,” the boy lilts playfully from where he’s sprawled along the couch, smiling wide with his head tilted to his shoulder.

Wayne grumbles vaguely in response.

“Bye, Mr. Munson,” you grin more sincerely than the boy beside you.

The man flashes you a mere hint of a grin, which is a whole lot more than most people get these days. He pulls a worn baseball cap over his balding head and nods once in your direction. “Bye, sweetpea,” he responds in his usual gritty and melodic Southern cadence.

The rusted hinges of the screen door squeal open and shut behind him. A wintery breeze billows in, briefly piercing the heated trailer and biting at Eddie’s burning skin. 

You idle on the other side of the couch, with your eyes drawn to the sitcom playing in static colors ahead of you — unaware of your boy’s building desire and far too distant for his liking. Eddie marvels at your profile, unabashed and boyish, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

He hears Wayne’s truck door close with a muffled thud. The ignition rattles for a moment, then roars when amber headlights shine suddenly through the sheer curtains. Eddie waits until he hears the tires crunch against the gravel drive before he pounces on you, like unsuspecting prey to a predator of unbridled longing.

You squeal when his mouth locks suddenly with your pulse, warm and wet on your unkissed skin. He wraps you in his arms like he intends to smother you against him. You swear you can feel his heart racing against your shoulder. His tongue darts along the most sensitive spot on your neck, and your head tips back with an airy laugh.

“What?” Eddie mumbles, muffled into your skin.

“Nothing,” you giggle. “Just thought you’d last longer than that.”

“Hm. Feel like I’ve heard that one before.”

“Shut up,” you gripe, but pull him impossibly closer just the same.

You bury your nose in his wild curls, inhaling the sweet scent of his conditioner and the subtle skunky smell of weed. He mouths at your neck with an intentional sloppiness that makes your eyes flutter.

Eddie grumbles a moan against your skin, which you feel in little tingles in the pit of your stomach. “You taste good,” the boy observes mindlessly into your pulse.

“I taste like sweat,” you scoff against his temple. “I still need to shower.”

“What’s the point? You’re just gonna get dirty again.”

Eddie pulls away with a soft smack. His lips are rosy and softly swollen as they curl into a grin. His chocolate eyes swim with mischief as yours narrow into a squint. “You’re such a boy,” you deadpan.

“Just love you,” the boy shrugs. “That’s all.”

You’re grateful when his lips finally meet yours. You’re only able to breathe when he’s kissing you, in a heavy exhale through your nose that fans along his cupid’s bow. He licks into your mouth tasting like a homecooked meal and nicotine and boy. Something foreign and nostalgic and tender. You melt into him accordingly. 

When he urges you to lay back against the couch, you let him. You cradle his face in your hands to keep him close as he props himself on his forearms, careful not to crush you despite his efforts to kiss the breath from your lungs. His weight is a comforting one anyway — body warm and lean and pleasantly heavy on top of yours.

You forget to take another breath until Eddie pulls away. You inhale deeply, lungs grateful for air, as the boy’s mouth treks down your jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collarbone, spit cooling and drying again on your skin. Goosebumps pebble in their wake, while his hand slides down your stomach.

His fingertips creep into the waistline of your pajama pants, perhaps a fruitless distraction from the lovebite he sucks just below your jaw. It’s a burning sensation of his teeth, followed by a warmer, more pleasant one as his tongue smooths over the bite.

“What are you? A vampire?” you giggle, fingers twisting in his hair.

You feel his smile curl into your neck. “Maybe,” he quips.

“I have to go leave eventually. You know that, right? And my roommates will freak if they see a hickey.”

Eddie whines between his kisses. “No, you don’t,” he insists with an audible frown. “Why can’t you just stay here forever?”

“Even if I wanted to, Wayne would still see. And that would be equally as horrifying.”

“He won’t be back until morning,” Eddie argues, punctuated by his teeth scraping your pulse. “It’ll be faded by then. Probably.” He licks over the bite and pulls away, peering down at you with a mischievous leer. “Unless… You want me to stop?” he offers in a sarcastic lilt.

You squirm under his gaze. “No…” you answer sheepishly.

He grins. “Then stop complaining, sweet thing.”

“Eddie,” you scold when the boy ducks down again, continuing his assault on your delicate skin, though you make no further attempt to stop him.

His kisses grow wetter and warmer and more languid as his hand travels down down down. A breathy moan catches in your throat when his calloused palm cups your bare pussy.

The damp, velvet feeling of you makes Eddie’s eyes widen. He didn’t know you’d be naked down there. He might’ve been more careful about it if he had.

“Shit,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you squeak, face swirled apologetically.

Eddie pulls away again, head spinning as he stares down at you with heavy eyes. “No— Don’t— Don’t apologize for that shit, are you kidding?” he stammers, then laughs at how sorrowful you look. Like this could ever be a bad thing. “It’s hot.”

You smile sheepishly. “I’m just running out of clean clothes. That’s why I had to do the laundry today.”

“Well, next time, I’m just gonna lock the door to the washer,” Eddie retorts playfully. “So then you have to walk around naked.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a boy,” you repeat, right before you drag him down by his shoulders to swallow him in another kiss.

You lick into his mouth only to find that his hand had never wavered. He cups you delicately there still, and creeps his middle finger between your satiny folds. 

Your hips buck on instinct. His palm bumps your clit. Your moans entwine in a kiss.

The screen door opens again with another grating screech. You and Eddie part instantly, swollen mouths smacking as your heads turn in sync.

Wayne stills in the doorway, weathered face swirled in horror. Neither of you move for several long moments — like, if you stay still, you’ll turn invisible somehow.

“Really?” Wayne huffs. “On the couch?”

Eddie’s wide eyes dart awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” he wonders breathlessly, still on top of you and still with his hand down your pants.

“Forgot my damn wallet.” Wayne keeps his gaze averted as he trudges to the tiny, square dining table by the window. He tucks the leather billfold into the pocket of his navy jumpsuit and promptly returns the way he came.

You and Eddie spare a wordless look of horror between you in the meanwhile.

“Do it in a bed next time, alright?” Wayne advises from the doorway with his back facing you. The rusted door creaks open and, just before it shuts behind him, you hear him shout. “And use protection!”

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒

୨ৎ ft. itoshi sae x actress!reader (fem)

synopsis. when football star itoshi sae randomly names you as his celebrity crush, the internet goes wild with rumours. what happens when you decide to make a surprise appearance during his next interview?

notes. thanks anon for the suggestion ! the editing process took quite a while bc i had to search for so many synonyms and celebrity-dazzling-type of vocabulary, and just a bit of research & idioms, lol (like tell me why i didn't know what filmography was??).

word count. 1.7k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 first thing that grated on sae’s nerves was the endless string of interviews he had to endure after every victory. the second were the interviewers, who seemed to lack any sense of boundaries or respect of privacy all together. but the third and perhaps most exasperating thing sae loathed were the questions– particularly those who left him completely clueless.

how on earth was he supposed to provide this nosy interviewer with the name of his celebrity crush when he didn't even have one?

besides, sae’s social awareness was practically nonexistent. his mind was consumed by football– matches, practice sessions, training drills, and occasionally, thoughts of his brother. naming a celebrity was as foreign to him as the idea of reconciling with rin.

he had tried to dodge the infuriating question, really. but his attempt was thwarted by the exaggerated glare of his manager, whose expression screamed ‘make. up. any. name’.

the older itoshi sighed, eyeing the lady who had posed the stupid, intrusive question from the side. to the untrained eye, it might have appeared that he was merely stalling, which, in truth, he sort of was. but on the inside, he was actually scrambling to conjure up any random name.

then, as if the goddess of luck intervened, a blurry image of you materialized in his mind. he recalled catching a glimpse of you while riding in his personal chauffeur-driven car.

your recognizable face had adorned a massive, wide billboard advertisement. you looked too striking– too gorgeous– to forget. you were holding a rose perfume bottle next to your shoulder, smiling with such infectious brightness. luckily, his eyes had happened to drift to the bottom left corner, where your name was elegantly inscribed in cursive.

y/n l/n.

anyone familiar with the entertainment industry would no doubt recognize your name immediately. you were a standout actress in hollywood, notably known for your phenomenal acting skills and breathtaking beauty. your filmography– the number of movies you've starred in– was extensive, and your trophy shelf in your large mansion was filled to the brim with numerous awards.

“itoshi-san?” the interviewer prompted again, her pesky voice cutting through his trance as she set her coffee mug on the table. she repeated her question, “there's nothing to be embarrassed about, haha– we’ve all had celebrity crushes at some point. who’s yours?”

sae scoffed lightly, leaning back onto the couch and propping his elbow on the armrest. he hid his face behind his hand, attempting to mask his discomfort.

“y/n.” he muttered, his voice laced with forced nonchalance.

the words slipped from his lips with shame. he knew this embarrassing revelation would literally dominate the headlines by nightfall, and he could hardly brace himself. he actually felt a teeny bit of guilt for dragging you into the main focus of the public’s attention alongside him. by tomorrow morning, his phone would be buzzing with notifications about this becoming the top trending topic on social media.

heck, he could already envision the misleading headlines in the tabloids:

alleged hidden affair: football prodigy itoshi sae and actress y/n l/n rumored to be in secret relationship– what’s really going on?

the interviewer let out an exaggerated gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as she exchanged a gleeful look with the cameraman.

“d-did you get that on tape? this will certainly make the headlines!”

she turned back to sae, who was still averting his gaze awkwardly. “j-just to be sure, itoshi-san… you’re talking about y/n l/n, correct?”

sae mumbled something inaudible under his breath before finally meeting her eyes, realizing it’s better to save face than to prolong his embarrassment live on camera.

“yes, her,” he replied with a shrug, rolling his eyes. he seriously had no idea who you were, what you did, or why you were famous. “she's cute, i guess.”

the interviewer beamed, leaning in enthusiastically. “—absolutely, her beauty is nothing short of enchanting! which of her shows or movies did you enjoy the most?”

so you were an actress, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the woman. he had absolutely no clue about any of your work. resorting to his typical bluntness, he retorted,

“none of your business. shut up.” he turned his head towards his manager, who looked as if he was about to cry literal tears of joy. “this interview is over. let's go.”

a few weeks had passed, and just as sae had predicted, rumours of a secret affair between him and you had exploded across the internet. yet, they remained just that– rumours. neither of you had addressed them… perhaps because there was no need to.

sae had just secured another effortless victory and was now being chauffeured to the interview venue. as he passed the familiar billboard, his eyes wandered, searching for your eyes, only to find that your advertisement had been replaced by some no-name, cheap milk brand’s.

—

as usual, he handled the post-match questions with ease. they were always the same, tedious inquiries: “how do you feel about your performance today?”, “could you describe the pivotal moments in today's match?”, “how did teamwork play a role in the game?”, “one fan asked…”, and so on.

however, this time, the midfielder felt slightly uneasy— the camera crew seemed larger, with cameras on every angle of the room. the interviewer, the same lady from before, appeared unusually excited. her voice was squeaker and she fiddled faintly as she spoke.

finally, she asked the final question regarding the opposition team’s strategies and approaches.

“hmph. we barely broke a sweat today; their game plan was so weak and predictable it was almost laughable. we could have won with our eyes closed.”

she nodded, almost dismissively, as if she couldn’t wait to wrap up the interview and get to the next part of the show.

“incredible, exactly what we’d expect from japan’s prodigious player! now, for all our online viewers, get ready to tune into GoalTalk’s special event! tonight, we're thrilled to welcome a very special guest who will be joining us…”

sae quirked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued as he watched the crew reposition the numerous cameras to focus on the entrance door, though a few lenses remained trained on him.

“... y/n l/n!”

you stepped onto the platform as soon as your name was announced, waving to the countless cameras flashing blinding lights in your direction. you were dressed in a long, flowing burgundy gown that accentuated your curves perfectly. you exuded elegance; the very epitome of grace.

sae's eyes widened in surprise, tracking your movements as you made your way to the seat beside him.

“fucking bullshit, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he groaned, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, his adam’s apple bobbing. 

you let out a soft giggle, settling beside him so that your thighs brushed against his. with a gentle tap on his shoulder, you flashed a practiced smile as he turned to look at you. 

“it’s such an honour to finally meet you, itoshi! i’m actually a huge fan, so you could imagine my excitement when you mentioned i was your celebrity crush in your recent interview.”

he cringed inwardly, having heard similar compliments from noisy fangirls countless times before. besides, you were a renowned actress; for all he knew, your cheerful expressions and excitement could be part of a well-rehearsed facade.

“ah. thanks, i guess,” he shrugged, clicking his tongue before adding nonchalantly, “...you’re a good actress.”

“oh, thank you! i appreciate it.” you leaned in slightly, your smile widening, “hey, you know, i wouldn't mind giving you my number. we could maybe… figure things out?~”

“what–” his leg began to bounce subtly. perhaps it was the effect of being an actress who had participated in a multitude of romance movies and shows– such flirtatious comments tend to slip naturally from your lips.

“you wouldn’t mind, would you? you’re single, right?” you pressed, propping your chin on his shoulder. 

fuck. your face was so close– so close he could understand why people called you stunning. you were infinitely more beautiful than the artificial, edited image on the billboard. your sweet scent of exotic fruit, reminiscent of a hot summer day on the beach, wafted to his nose. his eyes wandered to your cherry-stained, glossed lips, feeling a strange, inexplicable magnetic pull.

but he sighed defeatedly, feeling his manager’s intense yet pleased gaze boring into him. “i guess. don’t expect anything, though,” he dismissed, reaching up to ruffle his reddish hair. everything was alright. he just needed to get through this interview.

little did either of you know– or perhaps you had a vague idea– that social media was already ablaze with an endless amount of comments from hundreds of thousands of fans from both sides, shipping you two together.

you nudged him playfully with your elbow and turned your head, winking at the cameras as you slyly slipped your hand into his. “i’m getting his number, sorry girls.”

he felt his breath catch in his throat, his fingers remaining numb in your grasp. but suddenly, a strange surge of boldness overwhelmed his usually rational senses– he was already doomed, anyway, so why seem like a lame pushover? his hand reciprocated your grip, intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned in slightly. his lips brushed over your ear as he whispered a few, short words, eyeing one camera directly with a subtle smirk.

you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth at his words. all the cameras in the venue captured the sight of your eyes widening in surprise and the visceral nodding of your head to whatever he had just said.

his words would remain a secret to the public however, even as the internet flooded with speculations and questions, triggered by a sensational headline featuring a photo of the two of you together:

𝑯𝑶𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹? 𝑱𝑨𝑷𝑨𝑵’𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑺𝑯𝑰 𝑺𝑨𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝒀/𝑵 𝑳/𝑵 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑳 𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹, 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫!

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[wheeboo]

glowing | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which waking up with your husband in the mornings is still something you will never get used to. PAIRING. husband!choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, suggestive undertones WARNINGS. vague mentions of sex, kissing, terms of endearment, cheol is shirtless sorry not sorry :') WORD COUNT. 1.02k

requested from anon: Congratulations on reaching 2k followers rania!! for the event I’d like to request a scoups 42 & 49 from the 1st list!! - #42: "You just have this glow about you." - #49: "Come back to bed."

notes: first fic of the event!! anon knew what they were doing selecting these prompts istg hehe i hope u all enjoy <3

join the 2k celebration!

The rays of the late morning cower over your eyelids, slowly but surely nudging you out of your slumber. Somehow, you manage to peek open one reluctant eye, a sliver at first, then wider as you take in the sight around you. The bedroom is bathed in a beautiful golden glow. Shadows of the trees outside dance playfully across the ceiling and walls. All of this is enough to coax the smallest of smiles on your face𑁋the first of many today, you think.

You attempt to move, but you don't get very far. And instead, your eyes trail over to the body right next to you, taking sight of your sleepy husband buried in deep within the sheets, an arm draped loosely over your body underneath the duvet. He's still shirtless. You notice from the way the morning light gently kisses the bare skin of his shoulders where the blanket has ridden down.

The room is quiet, except for the soft rhythm of Seungcheol's deep breathing and quiet snores, and it grants you all the opportunity to be able to admire how peaceful he looks right now. It gives you the urge to fall back to sleep as well, but honestly, you're really damn hungry, and someone needs to make breakfast, or brunch, or whatever time it is right now.

With a reluctant sigh, you carefully untangle yourself from the comfort of the covers and Seungcheol's warmth, the cool air of the room sending a shiver down your spine when you sit up in bed. You take a minute to stretch out the certain soreness to your limbs, a small tug at your lips when a remnant of the night before flashes through your mind, but you try to brush it off as you stand up to walk out of the bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice is deep and thick with sleep, and you freeze up just before reaching for the door. You turn to see Seungcheol propping himself up on one elbow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips, peering at you with half-lidded, sleepy eyes. His hair falls across his forehead both messily and endearingly, and you feel a particular warmth bloom in your chest.

"I was just, uh..." You don't know why you suddenly feel so self-conscious under his gaze, even after he kissed, touched, and whispered praises against every inch of you last night. "...going to make some breakfast for us."

Seungcheol just chuckles, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from the way the covers slip down a little more. "I'm not letting you get away so easily, you know."

"But Cheol𑁋"

"Come back to bed," he pleads calmly, simply, softly. "Please."

There's something about the way he's looking at you right now that makes your heart stammer in your chest. It's a look you know well. A look of fondness. A look that holds itself comfortably in the space between your ribs.

You wake up together literally every single day, but you don't know if you could ever get used to this overwhelming feeling of being adored. It's like being wrapped in a warm, secure, fuzzy blanket, yet it's not just around your body; it's around your heart too.

"Okay," You finally relent quietly, and you let out a hearty squeal the second you walk back to the bed and he tugs you by the hands to pull you back into bed, back into his arms. It feels like coming home, every time.

You find yourself on top of him when his lips meet yours in a soft, slow kiss that has those flutters erupting wildly in your stomach once again. You feel the way his hand comes to cradle the base of your neck to pull you closer as the kiss deepens ever so slightly.

Even when you pull away, he doesn't hesitate to litter a few small, appreciative kisses down to your neck and exposed collarbones, the low hums leaving his lips caressing over your skin so tenderly and affectionately. You sigh out his name again, and Seungcheol draws back to look at you.

He's staring at you again. Not that you don't mind, of course, but the heat growing in your face is practically impossible to ignore.

You let out a breathless exhale, biting down at your bottom lip sheepishly. "What?"

Seungcheol lets his eyes flicker over you once more, before a small smile spreads across his features. His hands trail down to plant themselves firmly at your waist, letting his thumbs gently tracing shapes at the skin there.

"You just have this glow about you," he points out. "It's ridiculously attractive."

You glance down at yourself for a second as if you're actually glowing, before back up at him even more shyly than before. "Stop it."

"I'm serious, sweetheart," Seungcheol just insists and leans in back close to your face, his words melting away the last of your defenses. "You're absolutely beautiful, and it's an honour to be able to tell you that every single morning for as long as I breathe. It's an honour to love you."

His words momentarily snap you back to all the times he's whispered those same words to you during the moments between the sheets, or in the light of day when you're out on a date or basking in the familiarity of staying home, and the world seems to brighten a little more each time.

And maybe, yes, it's just the sunlight shining on you that has you 'glowing', but that's not exactly the case in Seungcheol's eyes, and it's hard to put to words.

Everything about you𑁋from the tiniest hint of a lift to your lips, to the dilation and sparkle in your pupils, to just you and your presence altogether𑁋just seems to radiate across every corner and crevice of the room. And Seungcheol can feel it seep within his own bones and warm him from the inside out. It's a feeling he finds himself wanting to chase after every single day; just a feeling he finds only in you.

You're glowing because you're in love, to simply put.

I'm in love. You're in love.

This is love.

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[taesanrot]

[vampire love] taesan x f!reader | 1.8k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, smut (making out, oral f. receiving, fingering) note. ty to anon who requested this! i loveee this song and literally listened to it on repeat while writing this lmao. @onedoornet

now playing: vampire love by lil tracy

"girl lay your body down on that fucking couch, open up your legs i'm gon work my mouth."

a miscellaneous romcom was playing in the background, the dull noise doing nothing to cover up the sound of your lips moving gingerly against taesan's. you were perched on his lap, knees trapping his legs as his hands rested on your hips, his fingers brushing under the hem of your tank. your hands were tangled in his soft hair, occasionally giving it a small tug just so you could hear him moan into your mouth.

your hands slid down his neck, trailing down his chest slowly. groaning loudly, taesan slid a hand into your hair, tilting your face so he could press his lips harder onto yours. his other hand snaked further around your waist, pulling you onto his lap so he could feel you against where he craved you most.

you lowered yourself onto the tent in his pants at a deliberately slow pace, smiling deviously at the way your boyfriend broke your kiss to moan and throw his head back against couch cushions. taesan has a strong will, but his resolve is something that you've quickly learned how to unravel. intimacy between the two of you is game of tug of war, the two of you fighting to subdue the other. you love the chase, the playful competitiveness that never leaves the two of you.

"god, you're perfect, y/n" he choked out as he felt your clothed warmth brush against him for what felt like the hundredth time. your scent hugged him like a blanket, and all he could see, think, and feel was you. you were satisfied by his dazed state, prideful as you whispered in his ear.

“oh yeah?” you smiled, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his already decorated neck. he hummed in agreement, fingers coiling through your hair still.

“prove it.” at the sound of your teasing voice, taesan’s eyes darkened and he halted his movement and noises all at once. grabbing your hips, he shifted you off his lap, smiling at your noise of confusion. 

“since when are you getting brave, hmm baby?” taesan mumbled lowly, bringing a hand up to smooth down your hair. his hand travelled further, finger tracing the line of your neck and your collarbone. he laid his full palm against your shoulder as he lightly pushed, laying you down across the sofa. 

the growing anticipation swirled in your stomach as your boyfriend moved to hover above you, his warm palms dragging across your abdomen greedily. you loved when the demanding and wanting side of your boyfriend came out, when he acted like his only purpose was to make you feel good, when his hands stayed on your skin like a magnet.

his palms swirled over your soft skin. your thin tank top did nothing to cover you, the fabric wrinkling under taesan’s finger and sliding up so easily. one of his hands pressed against the armrest that your head was propped against. but before he could lean down to kiss you, you felt your head being pulled up.

taesan gently moved your head to place his hoodie against the firm arm rest, cushioning your head. the softer fabric dulled the slight discomfort that you hadn't even noticed until then. you giggled at the way he doted on you, even in the heat of the moment. 

"comfortable?" he asked gently, prompting a short nod from you. he could tell you were needy, hands sliding on his arms.

your boyfriend laid his lips on yours gingerly, arm wrapping around your waist to pull your body up and flush against him. you gasped into his mouth, fingers crumpling the fabric of his t-shirt as you pulled him even closer.

his fingers nimbly worked at your bra hook, and you heard it snap open. you felt him pull the fabric out from under your cami, sighing at the feelings of his fingertips on your bare skin. 

when his hands finally pressed into your plush boobs, taesan couldn’t hold back a loud moan from escaping his throat. you whined as his thumb circled your nipple at a tantalizing pace. he pulled away from your lips to bite down lightly on the skin on your neck, his warm tongue soothing the short lived sting you felt and drawing another whimper from you. 

you'd never let him know, but you loved the marks taesan left on you. your favorites were the ones where you could see the indent of his teeth pressing into you. you always returned the favor, decorating his neck like a prize.

you moved one hand to tangle into his hair again, fingernails tracing his scalp. you pressed your palm against the back of his neck in an effort to let him know how good he was making you feel. your other hand reached in the space between the two of you, finding taesan's. he could read you like a book, intertwining his fingers with yours and holding your hand tenderly as he bit and licked your soft skin.

you pulled your hand out of his hair to trail the pads of your fingers down his chest, fingers tracing over the bulge in his sweats. before you could even work on getting his sweatpants out of the way, taesan groaned and grabbed your hands, pinning them onto the armrest where your head rested.

"let me take care of you." your legs pressed together at the sound of his raspy voice, his hooded gaze making your skin burn. he brought one of your hands to his lips, kissing your palm tenderly. he left wet kisses from the tips of your fingers to your wrists.

"so beautiful, all for me." he placed another kiss in the crease of your elbow.

"always wanting to please me. always so good for me." his lips traced higher up your arm, until his warm breath was tickling your shoulders.

"wanna treat you the way you deserve. tonight is about you, baby." your panties were ruined, thighs rubbing together with every word that fell from his lips.

taesan gently pulled your arms through the straps of your tank, peeling the fabric off you gently. his fingers went downwards, slipping off your shorts and underwear just as delicately.

even though your eyes were closed, you could hear the small gasp that fell from his lips at the sight of you.

taesan was never not in awe of you, your body that only he was allowed to gaze upon. he wanted to fall to his knees whenever he got to see you like this, bare and waiting for him. your skin, your warmth, your soft whines, it called to him so incessantly. the world always seemed to disappear when he had you like this underneath him.

reaching out, taesan's hand cupped your breast so softly, like you'd vanish at any second. he lowered his mouth to your chest, lips deftly catching your nipple. his tongue played with the bud gently, sending waves of pleasure through you.

you reached aimlessly in between the two of you, arms slipping underneath his shirt. you wanted to feel his skin, to press your palms into the dip in his back. as he moved to your other boob, you took the opportunity to pull his tshirt up, prompting him to tug it off and throw it on the floor. as quickly as his body left yours, he was back on you, lips pressing open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breast.

hot breaths tickled the skin of your chest and abdomen, and you looked down to meet taesan’s eyes looking up at your from between your parted legs. his hands ran up and down your calves and thighs, soft moans leaving his mouth at the feeling of you underneath him. he pulled your calves over his shoulders, giggling as you looked away bashfully. your eyes screwed shut as he placed featherlight kisses along your inner thighs, softly biting the flesh occasionally.

taesan loved leaving hickeys on your inner thighs, and he took his sweet time as kissed and licked the tender skin, eyes closed in bliss.

“tae… stop teasing” you whined softly, hips moving slightly to try and give your aching clit any attention. the desperate lilt of your voice when straight to taesan’s dick, and with a soft groan he brought a single finger to swipe through your folds. your juices wrapped deliciously around his index finger.

pleasure bloomed in your lower abdomen as taesan finally parted your folds and tenderly placed his tongue against your clit. he kissed the bud before wrapping his swollen lips around it, making you moan loudly.

he flicked your sensitive bud with his tongue just the way you liked, finger pulling your skin up so he could hit the extra sensitive spot underneath. your hands tangled in his hair, head tilted back to press into the end of the sofa.

the knot in your stomach twisted again as his mouth moved lower, his wet tongue tracing the outside of your hole. with one last glance up at you, taesan pushed his tongue into you, basking in the loud whine that fell from your mouth. his tongue explored your soft walls, the gummy flesh clenching around him incessantly.

tears streamed down your face as he pressed his thumb into your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles at a pace that had you repeating his name over and over. your neck strained as you tilted your head back as far as you could, pressing into the armrest.

“feels too good … tae fuck!” your words were reduced to shaky sobs as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten.

your boyfriend’s mouth returned to your clit, sucking hard as he pushed a finger into your clenching hole. your fingers yanked his hair as he added another, his fingertips reaching the gummy spot that made you see stars.

your mouth fell open when he pressed his hand into your stomach, making you feel just how deep inside you his fingers were. your resolve was long gone, hips rutting against his face desperately. lewd noises filled the living room, not that you paid them any mind.

“please, gonna cum.” taesan groaned into you upon hearing your cries, fingers snapping upwards to hit your g-spot as he flicked your clit speedily. the familiar buildup creeped up on you, your stomach tensing and legs twitching uncontrollably

your entire body stilled and your mouth fell upon as your orgasm took over you, vision going white and warmth flooding your body. taesan kept his pace, fingers still pushing in and out of your gushing hole, white rings left on them.

he loved the way you looked when you were cumming. your fucked out expression was something that was burned into his mind.

opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend's fingers in his mouth, tasting the juices you left on him. you tugged his bicep, pulling him to lay on top of you again. he brushed some of your ruffled hair down, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks.

"how was that, baby?" he asked, head now resting on your chest as you petted his head softly.

smiling, you let your hands drift down the expanse of his back, nails scratching the skin lightly.

"why don't you let me show you?"

[vvifeys]

This is my first time ordering here. AAAAAHHH It took me a while to gather up the courage.

I want one from the time Violet was in prison. I totally imagine Vi having her first experiences with the woman who did her tattoos (tattoo artist), with her being the only person Vi trusts in prison and more experienced then our fighter. 🫦👀

OOOHH I'm embarrassed now 🙈🙈 Me feel a teenager again

new to this.

sub!vi x dom!reader. tw: smut. fingering. vi is inexperienced. light degradation. praise. men dni! a/n: AWW HI THERE!! i'm glad that you got the courage to ask me for this, because i love this idea so much!! fair warning, i have a kindergarteners level knowledge about prisons, but i know that prisoners typically have cellmates so you guys are cellmates! i'm following a more real life logic rather than arcane 😅 i apologize if this is inaccurate in any way, thank you for this again, anon~

vi was laying on her side in her bed– if you could even call it that. the mattress was so thin it barely covered the wood it was laying on. uncomfortable, but she'd gotten used to it. used to laying on her side staring at your pretty face. you were the thing that made this prison bearable.

you were the resident tattoo artist. most of the inmates in stillwater that had tattoos (vi included) had gone under your steady hand to get them. your work was incredible, and it earned you lots of favors. intel, extra food, cigars even– but you always declined. you had given up on keeping score long ago, not too long after being thrown in here.

thrown in here with... the prettiest girl you'd ever seen. honestly, you didn't understand how such a sweet girl could commit a crime heinous enough to be tossed into a place as horrid as this. you very quickly learned, however, that it was false imprisonment. it wasn't easy, but you'd managed to grow close to your pink haired cellmate, and you'd become quite fond of her. she came to you for all three tattoos she wanted, and thanked you endlessly for the incredible work.

being fond of her was a crime in itself, though. you found yourself staring at her more often than you should've, and you caught her staring back at you more often than not. your gaze often traveled down to her arms, her hands, those thighs... you'd fallen asleep many times with thoughts of her in your head. her constantly getting into fights didn't help– she'd be returned to your shared cell with a bloody nose or a black eye, and you'd take care of her, as always.

tending to her wounds just led to more longing. you hadn't realized how badly you'd been yearning for her until she'd gotten a particularly nasty fork wound on her thigh. she was sitting there in boxers while you made sure to clean the bleeding holes to the best of your abilities. that was months ago, but you still remember the feeling of her eyes on you, the way your stomach flipped at every little gasp or twitch from her, and the way your eyes kept drifting just a little further upward.

months later, here you are in your current predicament. you're staring at her from across the room, both of you holding eye contact. your heart is beating faster than usual. you'd both just gotten done eating, and now it was lights out. there were a couple dim lights on in the hallway, the shadows making vi's face look even softer than it usually did. there was an unspoken tension, and you knew she felt it too if the way she was looking at you like she wanted to kiss you was any indication.

"violet, you want something. i know that look." you state, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"i- hey! i don't like how you know me that well. i just... i've been thinking." vi sighs, you can immediately tell something is wrong. she sat up, but she's not looking you in the face anymore.

"about?" you prompted after a few minutes of silence. vi was obviously contemplating something, and it was making you anxious.

"you? us? i don't know. just... there's something between us, and i know you feel it too." her eyes flicked up to yours, then down to the bedsheet a couple times.

you didn't even speak. you got up, walking over to sit down beside her and grab her hand. vi turned to look at your entwined hands, giving a light squeeze before meeting your eyes. you leaned in, mouth close to her ear.

"do you want this?" you ask, voice hardly louder than a whisper. your free hand moved to rest on her thigh.

"want w- oh. i've never... i'm new to this." vi hesitated, nervous to say it out loud. she swallowed so hard, you swore you could hear it.

"hey, hey, that's okay. let me show you, yeah? we can stop at any time if you want to." you pull back enough to look her in her soft, grey eyes. you bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, making sure she's focused and listening.

"yeah... i'll let you." vi nodded in your hands, eyes closing with a soft sigh.

you kept your hold on her face, but leaned in to kiss her. her lips were softer than you expected them to be, your own eyes closing as you relaxed at the feeling. you pulled back, but before you could even open your mouth to check on her, she presses her lips on yours again.

vi was a little messy with her kisses, but the more you kissed, the more she got the hang of it. your hands started to wander, one moving back to her thigh, and the other coming to hold her waist. your hands on her gave her the confidence to start to touch you. you felt one of her hands slide up your back, while the other held the side of your face. you smile into the kiss, both hands moving to her hips to gently tug her into your lap.

soon enough, you had vi straddling your thighs– knees on either side of your hips as you kissed. you pulled back, trailing your mouth down her jawline and to her neck. you nipped a little just above her collarbone to test her reaction. vi's soft gasp drew a wicked smile from you as you bit harder. you sucked a couple hickeys into her neck, giggling at her soft whimpers.

"can i take this off, pretty girl?" you ask, hands coming up to the hem of vi's shirt. she nods immediately, leaning back to help you pull the shirt over her head.

your eyes widened once her shirt was off. she was toned, you'd watched her work out before but you'd never seen her shirtless like this. you traced the contours of her torso with a hungry gaze, eyes coming to rest on her tits. her nipples were hard, chest flushed a light red from the blush that had taken over her face.

"stop staring! it's embarrassing." vi protested, crossing her arms over her chest.

"ah, ah. don't cover yourself up, vi, you're so gorgeous." you tell her, hands coming up to pull her arms away from her chest.

you used one hand to pull her body closer to you, your mouth latching on to one of her nipples. your free hand came up to twist the other one, drawing a moan from vi's pretty lips. you pulled back, your hand stopping it's movements.

"sshh, don't be so loud. do you wanna wake the whole hall?" you whispered, purposefully squeezing her breast to pull another noise from her. she quickly shook her head, resting her forehead on your shoulder.

"yeah, that's what i thought. c'mon, baby, can i lay you down?" you speak softly, feeling the vulnerability radiating off of the girl in your lap. you feel vi nod against you, and slowly move her onto her back. she's looking up at you through pink locks of hair, her lips parted as she breathes a bit heavier than usual.

you crawl between her legs, leaning over her to plant a couple kisses on her lips. her head tilts back as you kiss down her neck, breath quickening. her hands fist the sheets as you trail down her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, and finally to the waistband of her pants. you look up, eyes meeting hers and hands coming to rest on her hips.

"can... is this okay? can i take these off?" you slowly rub her hips, keeping your voice soft. you're trying to make her feel as comfortable as you can.

"y-yeah, uh," vi clears her throat, taking a deep breath. "go for it."

you nod, beginning to slowly slide her pants down, and eventually off her ankles. you run your hands up and down her thighs, trying to soothe her.

"you're so pretty, vi. so, so gorgeous. are you okay?" you query, resting your head on her inner thigh as you stare up at her. your breath hits dangerously close to where she wants you, causing her to try and squeeze her thighs together.

"mmh- yeah, fine. want you so bad." she pants, voice taking on a higher pitch than usual. she's doing her best to keep quiet, you can tell.

"yeah? i'm sure you do, baby. let's get these off." you smile at the neediness in her voice, moving to slowly pull her boxers off. it takes everything in you not to let out a moan at how pretty she looked.

vi's pussy was already soaked. she was practically dripping onto her sheets already, you hadn't realized how long you'd been staring until she closed her legs. you immediately pushed them back open, earning a gasp from her. you reached one hand up, running your index finger through her folds to see how she'd react. she almost jumped out of her skin, hips jerking with a sharp gasp.

"fuck! baby-" she whined, immediately covering her mouth with her hands. you smiled, giggling at how desperate she was already.

"aww, what is it? you need me that bad, huh?" you ask, voice falsely saccharine. you ran your finger through her heat again, dragging it more firmly over her clit.

"uh huh! mmf, please, please! i need it." vi begs, turning her head to bury her face in the thin pillow. it wasn't doing much to hide her, but you wouldn't tell her that. you did, however, warn her.

"okay, baby, okay. i'm gonna put one finger in, alright? is that okay?" you continue rubbing her outer thigh with your free hand. you kept a close eye on her face, half of it still visible, for any signs of discomfort or pain.

that's the question that made vi look up at you, her expression already looking fucked out despite you having not even done anything. she nods, a string of quiet begs coming from her. that's all you need to push your finger in, watching as vi's hips twitch slightly. she brings her hand to her mouth, eyes squeezing shut as you push your finger in and out. you do that for awhile, trying to get her used to the feeling.

it doesn't take her long before she's already begging for a second, and of course you oblige. who are you to decline a pretty girl whos asking so nicely? a second finger being pushed in draws a low groan from her, back arching.

"that feel good, sweetheart?" you scissor your fingers, pace gentle as you let her adjust. she doesn't properly answer, just whines and pushes her hips down on your hand faster.

"aww... such a slut for me, huh? so greedy." you tease, voice slightly condescending. your words draw a high pitched whine from her. you watch as her hands move to fist the sheets, eyes looking down between her thighs.

"please? more, i need more- oh god!" vi's words quickly cut off whenever you hit a gummy spot inside her after hooking your fingers. her hips jerk into your hand, moans more freely spilling from her lips.

"ah, there we go. you sound so pretty, baby." you smile, happy she was enjoying herself so much. you angled your fingers to keep hitting that bundle of nerves in her, drawing moan after moan and whine after whine. vi had given up on muffling herself, she knew she was probably waking up the whole block but she couldn't care less.

she felt way too good, feeling the electricity run through her body. the muscles in her stomach tightened, back arching further off the bed as she panted. vi couldn't help it, her hand reached to grab the hand you had on her outer thigh. she squeezed it, and almost immediately, all of the tension in her body released. pleasure washed over her like a wave in the ocean, and her body went lax. she was breathing heavy, eyes closed, hand death gripping yours.

you pull your fingers out of her, licking them clean before trailing kisses up her thighs, over her stomach, all the way up to her face. you take a second to dip down and lick the rest of her clean, not bothering trying to clean the sheets knowing laundry day was tomorrow. once she lets your hand go, you both sit up and face each other.

vi is still panting, but she's breathing easier now. "oh my god. does that always feel that good?"

"yeah, pretty much. god, you looked so pretty." you praise, moving her hair out of her face and gently cupping her cheek.

she blushes bright red, looking down instead of making eye contact. "h-hey! you can't just say that. you were doing all the work." she argues.

"hush, you did good too. i'm proud of you for going out of your comfort zone for me." you smile softly at her, thumb caressing her cheek. "let's get your clothes back on, yeah? you can sleep in my bed tonight." you offer.

vi looks up at you and nods immediately. "sounds good to me! lucky we did this before laundry day..." she shakes her head playfully, standing up and stretching before bending to pick up her clothes.

"i'm tempted to hide your clothes from you so i can see your body for longer." you tease, watching as she slides her boxers and pants back on.

she giggles, turning around to look at you as she puts her shirt on. "you hide my clothes, i'll never get another tattoo." she jokes back, knowing how much you'd been begging her to get another tattoo from you. she looked so pretty inked up, how could you not?

"hey! okay okay, no hiding clothes!" you stand up, grabbing her hands. "you truly are gorgeous, though." you say, sighing as you stare into her eyes with adoration. vi leans to kiss you, pulling you over to your bed.

"whatever you say, babe." she lays down, gesturing for you to lay beside her. you do, resting your head on her chest and closing your eyes.

"i love you, violet."

"i love you too."

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long, i was dealing with a lot of shit this week and part of last, on top of going through a big period of feeling more ace so 😅 working on this was difficult, but i'm finally done!! i'm very inexperienced at writing smut, so i apologize if any of this sounds cringy or bad. thank you for the request, anon, and i hope you request again !! i loved this idea <3

[unintentionalseductress]

Sleep is overrated for Xavier and can you feel how much I want you for Zayne if these haven't been requested yet please🫶🏽❤️

Hey anon! Sorry I'm getting to this kinda late, I was sick and just started to feel better. Normally I'd say limit one prompt per request but since I didn't get that many I'm writing both (and because I'm a sucker for these two).

“Sleep is overrated. I have better ideas.”

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

--------

Xavier:

It was a rare day off and Xavier was snuggled into you, your back pressed comfortably against his chest. You knew being a hunter drained him and that sleep was a luxury for him. However, you were just needy enough today that the sight of him getting ready to fall asleep was making you antsy. You turn in his arms, pushing your face up to his.

Blue eyes already heavy from a long's day work blink at you. "Are you ok?" His long fingers idly play with your hair, pushing it back behind your ears, a sleepy smile twisting his lips.

"Xav, are you planning on going to bed already?" You run your fingers down the front of his tshirt hoping to rouse him but he yawns loudly as the question is asked.

"I was. I'm sleepy."

“Sleep is overrated. I have better ideas.” You hold your breath waiting for his reaction and see a little twinkle in those captivating eyes.

"Better ideas? Like what?" Curious, he props himself up on his elbow to look at you.

"Oh you know...just...cute little ideas..." You boldly trace your fingers further down his chest, running bast his belly and suggestively give a light stroke at the front of his pajama pants. His sleepiness evaporates in an instant, every nerve in his body at attention.

"What are you doing angel?" he asks tentatively as you stroke him again, then reach out to cup him in your palm, feeling the softness morph under your touch.

"Isn't it obvious?" you tease then start pulling down the waistband of his underwear and pajamas at the same time. Pink dusts his cheeks but he allows you to do so, covered only by the blanket. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, his newly hardened cock now in your grip and pump him enticingly.

"Does that feel good?" you murmur sweetly in his ear, hot breath tickling him as he lets out a groan. Xavier manages to nod and you continue playing with him, stroke after long stroke of your small, soft, hand bringing him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

His hips start to roll on their own accord, matching the pace of your hand as you bite and kiss his neck.

"Mhhmm...that's so good angel..." his voice pants, thick with desire as your dextrous fingers continue to pet him. Precum leaks from his tip and you gather them to further lubricate him, movements growing slick and fast. Heat gathers in his abdomen and he can't control the noises he makes, hoping for it to come to peak soon.

A low, gravelly moan escapes him as he orgasms, spurts of cum erupting from his tip and falling messily onto your hand, little spasms punctuating his pleasure at the base of his cock.

He gazes at you in adoration and you grin.

"Still sleepy?"

Zayne:

Your arms are wrapped around Zayne's neck as he kisses you, tongues mixing and lips desperately locked against the other's.

It hadn't been that long since you'd had sex but the two of you had a hard time keeping your hands off each other, growing clingier as the day had progressed. Zayne's intentions were made clear from the moment you stepped into the car, his broad hand caressing your thigh as the other remained on the steering wheel. Your bare bodies are flush against each other and you feel tight hardness pressing against your thigh.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” He rasps, grinding himself on the soft plushness of your legs, his head bowed against your collarbone. "You make me...so weak for you..."

His lips capture yours possessively as his fingers dip between your wet folds, gently stroking before inserting a thick finger into your leaking core, his thumb coming up to rub circles on your clit. Your lips part to let out a sigh of pleasure, struggling against his actions, the sweetness gathering in your pussy too good to describe.

Your nails tighten on his back , leaving marks, whining needily. "Zayne don't stop...that's perfect..."

"I have no intentions to stop if it's making my pretty girl feel good," he says in a smooth whisper and you bury your face into his shoulder as you cum, pussy spasming around his fingers in harmony with your clit. Colors fade in and out of your vision as you ride out the waves of pleasure before collapsing back onto the bed. Zayne licks his fingers clean before positioning and sheathing himself into your warm cunt.

Both of you hiss in pleasure as he bottoms out, stretching you deliciously. "Can you take it?" He asks as he starts to thrust.

You nod dizzily, your brain turning to mush as he strokes your inner walls.

"That's my good girl."

[pearlywritings]

hello! i adore you're writings! may i request alhaitham + xylophone from your event? thank you!

thank you for your kind words, dear anon <3

It's a secret... but from just one person

pairing: Alhaitham x fem!reader

prompt: secret relationship

word count: 1.2k+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

“No, can you believe it!? She told me– ME, her best friend, that whoever she is dating is none of my concern!”

“It seems peculiar to me that you, a possessor of such a bright mind, as rumors have it, can’t wrap your head around the fact that she indeed doesn’t owe you any explanation.” “You–!”

Alhaitham, without taking his crystal-shaped irises from the book in hand, tilts to the left, when an eraser flies in his direction. It hits the backseat of the sofa and falls onto the cushions near him, jumping two times before stilling. The architect, sitting cross-legged on a daybed near a huge stained glass window, fists an outstretched hand, cursing under his breath for missing.

“Of course you, with an emotional capacity of a fork, wouldn't understand me! How can I not be concerned? What if she doesn’t say anything because she feels threatened??”

“By your pushing? Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Or what if she worries that her ‘boyfriend’,” he shows quotation marks with his fingers, a scowl tugging on his mouth, “will get jealous because she has a guy for her best friend?” Alhaitham glances up from his book, giving Kaveh such a skeptical look, it makes the blonde want to throw a pencil at the Scribe too.

He actually contemplates on the thought for a little while, but decides that, on second thought, it would’ve been a waste: while he had two more erasers nearby, he took just one pencil with him. So he chooses to bury his nose back into the blueprints on the board he propped in front of him.

“Why am I even telling you all of this…”

“What a coincidence,” the ashen-haired man returns to his book and turns the page, “I’ve been asking myself the very same question.”

After that the silence settles in the room - busy with their respective tasks, two men no longer converse. The only sounds heard are the rustling of the pages and big sheets of paper, with a pencil scribbling and the architect occasionally groaning when something doesn’t appear to be according to his vision.

Kaveh truly can’t help it - you are very dear to him, the biggest support he’s ever had in his life, and a person he’s grown to care about like as if you were his little sister. Obviously he’s going to be concerned when you tell him nothing about a man you’ve chosen as your lover. There is absolutely no reason for you to withhold a piece of such important information from him, unless there is something awful going on, right?

He wants to know so badly, yet he can’t have you distancing yourself from him; as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his sarcastic neighbour has a point - should he put more pressure on you, it can result in a saddening ending.

So, as it seems, for now he can only guess and grumble, until you are ready to tell him.

About an hour later Alhaitham closes the book and puts it on the armrest. Kaveh ignores him when he stands up and leaves the lounge room, glancing up only when the man reappears in different clothes, with hair combed (though the Khashrevar graduate hardly sees the difference with how randomly cut his locks look) and a touch of perfume. Kaveh gives him a suspicious look.

“Is there an event I am not aware of?”

“You could say that. But it's the one where you are not invited to.”

“Okay…” the blonde says slowly, lowering the board with his blueprints. “Since when do you willingly attend events? Moreso dress up for them?”

“None of your concern, dear senior,” Alhaitham smirks, and something in the quirk of the lips and the haughty tone irks Kaveh more than ever before. It's as if the Scribe conveyed some veiled message, some important information addressed to the architect specifically.

But before he can ask anything, the other man is out of the front door.

Oh, you can definitely believe it. You’ve been witness to your boyfriend’s and best friend’s verbal skirmish way too many times, you can almost predict what taunt one of them is going to respond with next. So, when Alhaitham gives you a recap of their afternoon’s conversation, you are not surprised, not in the slightest.

“You two are so childish,” you roll your eyes, putting a vase with a bouquet of fresh, blooming viparyas onto the dining table. A soft smile graces your lips as you cup one of the flowers delicately, cradling its beautiful blossom.

“Should I remind you that it was your idea to keep our relationship a secret from Kaveh?” Your lover joins your side and nestles your back into his chest, both of his big palms resting on your waist. Your smile grows wider and gaze turns borderline dreamy, as you lean into him more, grazing the knuckles of his left hand with your fingertips.

“I was worried he’d be even more disgruntled at you,” you sigh, dropping your arm to your side. “He tends to be overprotective of me. I know, I know, you two can be civil and even amicable with each other, but Kaveh is emotional.”

“Just say ‘hysterical’, habibti, no need to hide behind the words,” the man behind you says monotonously, and you half-heartedly slap the back of his hand. The smirk he hides in your hair as he leans to kiss your temple tells you he is half-serious himself.

“Maybe you are right though,” you hum, welcoming his arms to wrap around your middle and putting your own atop of his. He starts slowly swaying from side to side. “It wasn’t my brightest idea. He’s stressing you, he’s stressing himself and soon he’ll most likely start stressing me, if I don’t reveal to him the mysterious character of my dear boyfriend. I am actually quite surprised he hasn’t figured it out yet or that someone from our friend’s circle said nothing to him.”

“I suspect they all found it hilarious,” Alhaitham offers an explanation, turning around with you still being in his hold, to check on the oven. “Or challenging. It’s keeping a secret from just one person after all and seeing for how long it can go on.”

“Mhm, I think you are right,” you chuckle, gleefully patting his forearms, tapping the rhythm known only to you. “But the joke has lasted long enough, let’s tell Kaveh. We can invite him to dinner where I can officially introduce you as my boyfriend!”

“He’s going to lose his marbles. And what happened to ‘I don't want him to be pissy at you’?”

“That’s not how I phrased that,” the man gives you a ‘sorry not sorry’ kind of look, and you can’t help but think that for all his restraint and wisdom, your beloved can really be impossibly childish. “Besides, I know you can handle that, look at all that muscle,” and you squeeze his thick upper arm. You earn yourself a blank expression as a response.

“If Kaveh arranges the ‘how well you know your lover’ quiz for me, and there is a question ‘why, in your opinion, your partner fell in love with you in the first place?’, I am telling him you are enamored with my arms.”

“Well, you’ll answer one question correctly at least,” snickering, your turn in his embrace to throw your arms around his neck and smooch him on the cheek. He shakes his head with an exasperated sigh, but nevertheless leans down, to ghost his lips across your forehead.

“I’ll answer all of them correctly.”

“Hehe, I’ll hold you to that, habibi.”

[jam3sacaster]

First off loooove your rivals writing. Some might say you are keeping this fandom fed. Maybe a dbf!declan or bfd!declan fic if that’s at all possible? But seriously keep up the amazing work 😁

love it! 🩷🩷 thank you so much dahhhling 😭🥰

“Do ya’ know how wrong this is?”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽

18+ FANFIC / Smut, angst & all the passion. Reader character aged at 23. Hope you enjoy! 💋

Dressed only in one of your father’s woollen forest green jumpers and the fluffiest socks you could pull from the depths of Taggie O’Hara’s wardrobe, you hesitantly crept down the wooden stairs and pottered into the kitchen. The Priory was deathly silent, except from the torrential downpour outside, as it approached 3am — you had left your best friend, Taggie, tucked up in bed after a night of senseless gossiping. As you outstretched your arm to open the fridge, a husky, drowsy voice spoke from behind you, petrifying you beyond belief. “Hello. What are ya’ doing up?”

“Jesus! Sorry. Yes, hello. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get a drink if that’s okay.” You pant, hand clutched over your thumping heart. Declan chuckled to himself as he saw your body jump in fright. “Do ya’ smoke?” He asked, lighting a cigarette and waving the open packet under your nose. “Yes. Thanks.” You muttered and brought a cigarette to your mouth. As you took a seat at the dining table, cigarette still teetering between your supple lips, Declan stood over you and lit it, an unwavering, palpable glint in his eye. You tremble uncontrollably under his gaze — what was that feeling?

As you inhaled your first puff of your cigarette, Declan retrieved two crystal tumblers and his bottle of Bell’s from the cupboard under the sink. “Whiskey?” He asked, already pouring two teeming glasses for you both. “Be a shame to waste it.” You chuckled, and graciously accept the drink, sipping it and relaxing as the amber liquid warms your blood. Declan sat beside you now, taking a sip and desperately trying to avoid eye contact. The chocolate brown curls that engulfed his torso made him look intoxicatingly macho, and made your lips quiver in lust. No, you tell yourself, he’s Taggie’s Dad for fuck’s sake. Awkwardly abstaining from conversation, you fiddle with one of Caitlin’s trinkets on the table, rolling it between your fingers and closing your eyes in embarrassment as it rolled from the table and bounced off of the skirting board.

Scraping your chair across the hardwood floor, you bounce upwards and bound after the trinket, bending over to retrieve it. It wasn’t quite the discreet, elegant retrieval you were hoping for. Instead, your jumper rode up to your belly and Declan got the most glorious flash of your purple pants stretching themselves over your rounded arse. “Are ya’ doing that on purpose?” He growled from behind you. Fiercely mortified, you shoot upwards and frantically smooth the jumper back over your thighs. “No! No, of course not. I’m sorry.” You whisper, smacking the ball of your palm onto your forehead in shame.

Declan rose from his chair now, and inched towards you, his lit cigarette cast an amber glow over his face and brightened the carnal sparkle in his hazelnut eyes. “It’d be very, very bad if ya’ did.” He mumbled, backing you slowly towards the wall. Propped up on your tiptoes and gazing up at him with wildly innocent eyes, your breath caught monstrously in your throat. “I-I didn’t.” You whispered, but the words materialised in a croaky tone that prompted Declan to bring his hand to your face, burying his fingers in your hair and softly brushing his thumb across your rouged cheek. “Do ya’ know how wrong this is?” He questioned, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. You allowed your slender hand to caress his thigh as his hand slid into your jumper, his cold touch sending a welcoming shiver across your spine. “Declan…” You uttered, but his hand had already cupped your breast, and, despite trying everything in your power, nothing could stop the faint moan escaping your lips.

You simply couldn’t take it anymore. Allowing primal lust to overcome your body, you ground your wet cunt against his thigh — his brown corduroy trousers providing the most delightful friction. Declan’s growing cock bulged against his trousers, threatening to make its escape if you continued. He raised his fingers to swipe your sodden panties to the side, swirling the tip of his finger across your swollen clit. You took a melodious sharp intake of breath, opening your mouth promptly after to moan under his touch. The hallway door clicked shut, and you both bolted to separate from each other, Declan striding to the other end of the kitchen and anxiously clearing his throat. Terrified, you straightened yourself out and hid behind the cabinet of decorative plates — feeling more vulnerable and prone to smashing than they are, whilst never feeling more wildly alive.

[yena-enha]

Request - 6 By anon

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭-𝐍𝐑𝐊

Warning - MDNI, heavy BDSM themes, degradation, humiliation, face-fucking, spitting, recording, choking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, possessive behavior, rough sex, explicit content, dark themes, sub!Reader, dom!Ni-ki

Note - This is a dark, explicit work featuring intense kink dynamics. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Genre - Smut, PWP, Dark Erotica

Pairing - Dom!Ni-ki x Sub!FemReader

Song Inspiration - "Ride" by Chase Atlantic

Word Count - 1.3k Words

Prompt - #76 + #95

#76 - When he pulled your hair and said, “Be good.”

#95 - When he took pictures of you looking ruined.

Your legs were shaking—spread wide, bent over the arm of the couch, lips swollen, cheeks tear-streaked, and your cunt dripping all over the leather.

You’d already come once, maybe twice—you didn’t know anymore. Ni-ki hadn’t let you keep track.

He stood behind you, bare chest gleaming with sweat, his cock still hard and twitching from the last round.

You were a mess, panting into the cushion, hair tangled and makeup smeared.

But he wasn’t finished. Not even close.

A harsh grip yanked you back by your hair, forcing you to arch up from the couch with a whimper.

You felt your body instinctively submit—chest rising, lips parting, eyes fluttering.“Be good,” Ni-ki growled low against your ear, breath hot on your neck.

“You know what happens if you don’t behave for the camera.”Camera?Your blurry vision shifted—and that’s when you saw it.

His phone propped up on the tripod across the room, red light blinking. Recording.

You trembled. “N-Ni-ki…”“Shh,” he hushed you, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

“You look so pretty like this. All fucked out and obedient. My perfect little toy.”

Then he shoved your face down again, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, the other sliding down to your raw, swollen heat.

He spread your folds wide—obscene and wet—and let out a low whistle.“Smile for me, baby,” he said darkly.

“Camera’s loving this ruined little pussy.”

He grabbed his phone now, moving closer, snapping a picture of your soaked entrance, your thighs trembling as he spread you further open with his fingers.

Then—flash.Another picture—this time of your tear-stained face, your tongue lolling out as you moaned into the cushions.

“Say cheese,” he mocked with a cruel smirk. “Or maybe say mine—since that’s what you are.”

He dragged the tip of his cock along your entrance, not pushing in yet—just teasing, rubbing it through your mess while you sobbed beneath him.

“Ni-ki… please,” you cried.He smirked and gripped your hair tighter, jerking your head back until your spine arched unnaturally.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, voice like silk over steel.“Yes—yes, I’ll be good—”“That’s right,” he muttered, shoving himself inside you in one hard thrust.

You screamed into the couch, body jolting as he bottomed out in seconds.He set a brutal pace—fast, deep, possessive—slapping skin and choked cries echoing through the room.

His phone was still in his hand, camera angled down as he filmed where your bodies met, catching every sound, every filthy squelch.

“You hear that?” he panted, voice almost feral. “That’s how wet you are for me. That’s what a good girl sounds like when she’s mine.”

Your mind was going blank—numb with pleasure, overstimulation, and humiliation all at once.

Then Ni-ki’s fingers slid around your throat, pulling your face up to meet the camera again.“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

You did.

Flash.

A photo of you drooling, red-cheeked, crying, with his cock slamming into you in the background.

“You’re gonna look at these pictures every night when I’m gone,” he growled.

“Touch yourself and remember who fucked you dumb.”You could only moan.

And then—just when you thought he might let you come again—he stilled inside you, holding you down by the neck.“No cumming yet,” he hissed in your ear.

“Not until I get the perfect shot.”

Flash.

One more photo—his cum dripping out of your used cunt, your knees collapsed, body completely wrecked.

His favorite Picture, Perfect.

Masterlist||Introduction

Tell Me Your Desire|Prompt List|200 Yennies Celebration

[aloysiavirgata]

Title: Nine Crimes

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: Explicit

Category: MSR

Timeline: Pilot

Summary: For the anon prompt “Pilot Sex”

Notes: Thanks to @slippinmickeys for the feedback

***

It's the wrong time

She's pulling me through

It's a small crime

And I got no excuse

Damien Rice, 9 Crimes

***

A shabby motel, shabbier than the one that went up in flames. It’s made of concrete and third mortgage paperwork and the abandoned dreams of a better life.

Mulder paid the hundred bucks in quiet cash, the same way he’d bought them new clothes and toiletries at WalMart. Let Dr. Scully think he’d get reimbursed. Let Dr. Scully take her little notes.

***

His new partner looks frayed around the edges, even with her square shoulders and her Stanford pedigree. She’s filled with potential, but incomplete and unsure of her place in the world, even rewriting Einstein. Even with her serious brown-washed hair and her serious oversized suits and her serious Thom McAn heels, she’s green as it gets. He knows about the freckles under her drugstore foundation, that she’s a second daughter. A third child.

He knows about Jack Willis. He knows about Daniel Waterston.

He knows she has a body like Collier’s Godiva.

“An orangutan,” she’d said, prim. Laughed openly at his ideas even though he’s still something of a legend at the Academy.

Mulder has a type and Dana Scully’s nowhere near it, but damn if he doesn’t like her mettle.

***

It’s two by the village clock, storming again, branches scraping against the windows. He’s awake and restless and what was going on in the woods, what was-

A knock at the door. He says “Scully” as he opens it without even checking. Pajama pants and nothing else but he opens it without checking.

She’s in his room all at once, lush as a Frederic Leighton painting even in tacky WalMart sleepwear.

The cheap hollow-paneled door slams behind her and she says “Mulder, I-“

Scully blinks.

“I’m sorry. I knew you were awake, I knew somehow, but do you want to get dressed or-”

“Turnabout is fair play.”

She blushes hot at that, but doesn’t leave.

Mulder slouches against the wall, arms crossed. “So. What’s up, buttercup?”

Scully looks around for a chair, but there’s only the sagging full sized bed. Is there a chair in her room? Should they move there? He decides not to ask. He likes her on his turf.

“Can I sit?”

He gestures at the bed. “Mi dump es tu dump. However, I must remind you, this goes against the Bureau's policy of male and female agents consorting in the same motel room while on assignment.”

Scully looks mortified, then realizes he’s joking. She perches on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across her narrow thighs. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Is it always like this?” Scully asks, looking up at him. “Is this my life now? Stolen corpses and hotel fires?”

Mulder sighs. He crosses the small room to sit next to her. He can feel the heat of her red-gold body against his bare skin. Outside, the rattle of hail.

“That’s the fun part. I mean, it’s not always like any one thing. It’s stolen corpses and hotel fires until it’s missing children and government facilities and…” he trails off, weary.

“Little green men?” Scully asks, with perfect innocence.

Mulder looks at her fully for a moment, then laughs. He’s not unaware of his own mythos, and full marks to little Dr. Scully for clearly not being intimidated by it.

“Yeah,” he says. “That would be an example. Hey, they still saying I caught Monty Props with a ouija board?”

She tilts her head. “I’ve heard ouija board, I’ve heard Bigfoot.”

Mulder can’t help himself. “What else? Since you’re a spy.”

A smirk. “Agent Mulder, are you asking me to gossip?”

“Shamelessly.”

She smiles wide then, eyes crinkled at the corners and brightly blue as St. Elmo’s Fire, the perfect eyes for a sailor’s daughter.

“Well. Reckless of course. Brilliant. Problems with authority. Crazy, despite your assertions otherwise.”

“Boring. What’s the good stuff?”

A little shy now, her eyes dropping. “Obsessive. Paranoid. Self destructive.”

“All fair.”

“Womanizer.” Something in her eyes when she says it, a little heavy.

Mulder’s surprised she owned up to that one. Wants to know which particular women she’s heard about but decides to leave it alone for now. “Intriguing. And am I living up to expectations, broadly speaking?”

“Well, you’re obviously crazy.”

He chuckles. “Obviously. Paranoid?”

“Jury’s still out, but the fire is in your favor.”

“Womanizer?” he asks, a little purr in it, because she’s in a playful mood and because he’d like to hear her squirm out of it.

She just scoffs. “After I showed up in my underwear and then lounged chastely, unseduced? Alas, Mulder. I’m going to have a lot to debunk.”

“I’d hate to-”

Lightning so bright it feels audible, simultaneous thunder that shakes the building. The room goes black.

Scully yelps and he feels static between them; the strike must have been just feet away from the building.

He reaches for her and she’s covered in gooseflesh. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Jesus, I just…that was close.” Bit breathless.

Lightning again and a roar of thunder. Hail.

The dark is so complete it has a weight to it. “You want me to help you back to your room? You're two doors down, right?”

Silence.

“Scully, are you-“

“Can I stay?” she asks, just above a whisper. “Because of the storm, I just…”

Lightning. Thunder.

His hand cupped protectively - unconsciously- at the back of her neck and he says, “Of course.”

A tree just outside is struck, and for a fraction of a heartbeat he sees her white face, her big eyes, and-

Knew about Jack, Daniel, and still never expected her to make the first move. But she swivels under his palm, turns up to kiss him in the dark and he doesn’t protest.

Her mouth is hot and firm, tongue shifting wet sand at high tide. Scully’s thighs straddled over his suddenly, Scully’s tight ass in his hands under that pink polyester. God she’s little, she’s-

They cannot see in the felty dark, but he feels her pull that awful top off and her breasts are against his bare chest as she grinds herself against him.

Hail, wind, rain. Mulder bites at her tongue and she sighs.

He’s rock hard, fumbling at her nipples, her throat, her drawstring. Heat between her thighs, even with them both half-dressed. He breathes in the hot saltwater scent of her cunt.

Mulder wants to fuck her with his mouth, wants to suck her like boardwalk taffy in July until she’s melted and pliant but this isn’t that kind of night.

Lighting, thunder. Storm moving away.

Dr. Scully’s sharp claws at his back, Dr, Scully’s knees bruising his ribs.

The dark, the dark….

He raises his hips from the awful bed, scrapes his pants down his ass, his thighs. Cock painful as a fresh bruise.

She reaches down and it’s okay because they cannot see one another, okay because the hail and the winds swallow the noises they’re making.

His new partner, this is so fucked up even for him, but there isn’t any light so he groans again when she rubs herself against his cock.

“Mulder,” she hisses, nimble fingers wrapped around his shaft. “God.”

The storm a mile off now and his partner rises up so he can pull her bottoms off. Rises, her hard thighs and her impossible waist and her raspberry nipple in his mouth.

She wriggles free from her own pajamas, legs smooth and muscular and tight against him. The heady scent of her makes him twitch. Jack, Daniel.

Ethan.

He knows, too, about Ethan.

Drenched, in the bottomless night of the storm. Hot wet anonymous curls because there is no light and Agent Dr. Scully is gone and it’s just this lithe body against his and he bites her nipples hard again; left then right and she moans. Arches.

Lightning farther now and what the hell, he pushes two fingers between her thighs and into the sweet, melting nexus of her body. Dripping, slick, frictionless, his partner, this is so fucked up, this is -

She cries out, Agent Scully, with her good hard belly against his and her nipple in his mouth and her intoxicating scent soaking into his fingers.

The storm now five miles off.

“Please,” she begs. Her voice is cinnamon and silk.

He pushes his wet fingers into her mouth to silence her and thank god it’s dark still. She sucks at him without evident shame. His balls tighten.

“Possibly a womanizer,” Mulder mumbles into her fragrant neck. Working his other hand into the melting hot depths of her. “But clean. However, I don’t have a condom.”

“Pill,” she mumbles, clit rolling against his knuckle. “Please.”

Thank her forgiving god.

Graceless, groaning, Mulder pushes his cock into her waiting body. He cannot see her face but he can imagine it; those cheekbones and her blown-rose mouth. She is tight and searing and soaked and -

Scully makes a low noise, starts riding him like a dressage pony. Fucks him. Begs to no one particular and fucks him with her kidskin body.

The storm at six miles.

Scully, crying out. She arcs her back and he can only imagine her breasts now, swollen and rosy and sweet and so sensitive and -

“Mulder, Christ. Please…”

Mulder lets go. His sister and Ray and Peggy and Billy forgotten and he thrusts into her, into the black hole at the center of the Milky Way and the unknown and the nothingness. He comes into her with a fierce desperation and Scully sucks his earlobes and his mouth and his throat and she drenches him in her hot slip.

Low, flickering light. A distant rumble.

Nine miles.

They fuck again, urgent and silent, at the gray light of four AM. He comes into her like Uranus, making the world.

She goes to her room after that, never looking back.

They do not speak of it for years.

[sun-snatcher]

hii this is the anon who asked for connor smut the other day lol i meant to say smut prompt list #3!! ty!!

🪶 — petal-bruised ; connor kenway

a/n. Alas! We finally get a small Connor smut piece. Thank you for clarifying the list & for requesting, dear anon!

CONNOR GETS A little rough, sometimes.

Miscalculates, if you will. Forgets his strength.

His grip can easily turn to bruising gropes and the push of his kisses can shift quickly to pinning you under his weight. It’s not a complaint, ofcourse; To know that you could have him struggle to pull back—? It’s admittedly addicting.

Connor is a man of lethal discipline; yet all it takes is a touch and a skittering plea from you against his ear and he’s gone.

(Hardly a surprise, though. He’s a man, for all his efforts to be as honourable as one can be, and men are often— for lack of better words— simple to excite.)

“G’morning,” you hum, in the haze of the morning after. He’s been ghosting his lips on your back: apologetic kisses at the curve of your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the thin slope of your nape. When you turn in his embrace to face him, bleary-eyed and impossibly soft, he’s quick to meet your mouth in a warm kiss that kindles that feverish thrum back in you—

And him, it seems. You can feel the length of him pressing against your thigh; hot and heavy. “Good morning to you, too,” you notice, brows raised.

“Sorry,” Connor says, half-sheepish and half-amused. He thumbs at your cheek gingerly before letting his fingers drift to the petal-shaped bruises across your skin, blooming colourfully over your throat, your clavicles, your breasts. He remembers the way your hands had snarled at his hair when he’d been marking you down, moaning his name like a prayer at the bites he couldn’t help but leave behind. “…And sorry for these, too.”

You nose a giggly kiss at his jaw. Let your hand wander down to sneakily grab the base of him. “I think you like it, though,” you whisper, relishing the way he goes breathless at your teasing squeeze, the way his dilated eyes flutter shut in anticipation. “It’s like a brand, isn’t it? That I’m yours, Connor?”

His cock twitches at the thought. Your slow, deliberate strokes have picked up, but still not enough to satisfy him. “I love you,” he begins, because he always has to argue, and pulls you into a needy kiss that’s heavy with sleep: a mess of teeth and tongue and nipping, “not own you.”

You wiggle your hips enough that the head of him sits at the already wet seam of your legs. Connor groans at the heat of it— you’re not as ready as he’d want you to be, but the precum leaking out of him is more than enough as you tease your core daringly at his weeping cock.

“Maybe I want you to. Maybe I want you to make me entirely yours,” you urge, voice laden with something alluringly coy. “Maybe I want to be reminded.”

“You,” he says, shuddering, but the thought derails quickly.

Connor is rolling over to prop himself above you now, mouth suckling another love-bite below your jaw as his cock slowly sinks into your aching cunt. He has another hand palming up, up, up; past your navel, across your breasts, before resting at the base of your throat with the slightest pressure of a squeeze.

But then you’re whining at the fit— hands automatically flying to grip his caging arms and broad back, the delicious flex of them that’ll surely be left with angry scratches and indents when he finally fucks you into completion once more— and you hear him rasp out, “You are going to be the death of me.”

[causenessus]

for your event, can I request suna with ⭐️ and 🍳? :D

almond butter. | suna r.

suna x f!reader

written in 2nd pov and it tore me to shreds

prompts from 1k followers event -> ⭐ -> insomnia & 🍳 -> cooking

"you've adored me before, oh my good looking boy." from good looking (stripped) by suki waterhouse

word count: 1.1k words

notes: fluff <333 i can't help talking about how hot and sexy this man is everytime i write for him i am so in love with him i am barking from him HHHHH— suna being a good boyfriend and brother!!! i love this man to bits and pieces <3 1K WRITING EVENT IS BACK IN SESSION!!! AND SO AM I!! NESS!! FOR A SINGLE DAY!! WITH CRAPPY WRITING!! i'm obsessed with him and him only using petnames and also i see this as a scenario being quite early into your relationship with him <3 and basically this being the first time he says "i love you" to you (without realizing it) and you realizing you love him (and being too sleepy to say it)(this makes more sense once you read the drabble)

mango anon, if you see this <3 this is us <3 this is me making u almond butter toast <3

cw: food, talk about food chemistry and how your brain converts food to melatonin using carbs yay science! work is not exactly proofread

you’ve been waiting in your living room for the past 10 minutes.

well, actually, you’ve been waiting for the past two hours to go to sleep but your brain won't let you, no matter how tired you feel.

finally giving up any chance of falling asleep soon in your bed, you let the screen of your phone blind you as you shoot a quick text to your boyfriend:

y/n : taro are you awake? i can’t sleep :( insomnia��s kicking my ass again

you collapse back onto your pillow, throwing your phone haphazardly to your side with a groan. almost immediately, your head pops back up again at the sound of a buzz, and you blindly reach for your phone, looking at its screen.

rin <3 : yeah i am

rin <3 : give me 10 min

you weren’t entirely sure what he had meant by that; if he was busy, and would reply again in 10 minutes or if he was coming over.

you hoped it was the latter, but you'd find out soon enough. in the meantime, you moved to your living room, curled up on your couch under a heavy blanket, dimly lit by the warm light of a nearby lamp as you watched the seconds go by on your phone.

you always slept better with him, whether he was holding you in his arms or he was just simply in the room with you, it felt nice to be in his presence. just the thought of him was slowly making your eyes start to droop before the sound of the door unlocking made you perk up.

there he was, gently swinging your door open, a white plastic bag in hand. his yellow eyes fell on you as you looked him up and down, obviously judging his poor taste in clothing (sweats and a t-shirt) despite it being the middle of winter.

“hi baby,” he whispers, kicking off his shoes before immediately making a beeline towards you. you were peeking out from over the arm of your couch, and he knelt on the floor at the side of the couch, chin propped against the arm of it where you were, leaning in towards your face. there was a smile on his own as he spoke, “don’t fall asleep now, i just got here.”

you can only sigh quietly in response, happy to finally see him. “can’t help it,” you mumble, “‘was thinking of you.”

his smile only grows at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting a hand run down the side of your face, caressing it carefully. “you’re cute when you’re tired, doll,” he teases as you lean into his touch, too tired to even respond. “at least let me take care of you before you fall asleep though, yeah? i went to the store for you after all.”

“you didn’t have to buy me anything,” you whisper, reaching an arm out to him, trying to get him to join you on the couch.

he grabs your hand, rubbing a thumb lovingly over the back of it, but doesn’t let you pull him down, “of course i’ll buy you things, y/n. i love you. can i make you something to eat?”

you hum in thought, thinking about if you really want to allow him to move you, but when he tugs gently at your arm, you get up (begrudgingly) bringing your blanket with you to the kitchen.

you rest your arms on the counter you’re sitting at, lazily watching his figure move through your kitchen, pulling items out of his bag. “what’re you doing?” you eventually question, eyeing his selection of groceries with confusion. the jug of milk you can understand, but not the jar of what you assume to be jam and a nut butter.

“‘making you toast,” he answers, rummaging through your drawers for a knife, “my sister used to have trouble sleeping sometimes too, and she’d always wake me up instead of our mom so i had to figure out what helped.”

“and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are supposed to help you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting up to rest your head on your hand as you watch him pull a plate from your cupboard.

the bread he dropped into your toaster pops back up as he corrects you, “almond butter. my sister hates peanut butter, and rightfully so. almonds are better.” he continues talking as he places the toasted bread on the plate he grabbed, “i had to google what kind of foods you should eat when you can’t sleep and it’s the first suggestion i saw. the almonds have something in them that gets converted to melatonin using the carbs from the bread and jam, or something like that.”

you nod along like you really care about whatever science he’s rambling about when really, all you can pay attention to is how nice his voice is. ever since he entered your apartment, you’ve realized how much he was all you needed to sleep. you’re slowly getting more attached to him and the longer you date him, the more sure you are that you love him, too.

he slips into the seat next to you, sliding the plate of toast over to you. you mumble a small thanks, biting into the sandwich before opting to lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder while the rest of your body is wrapped in the heavy blanket you brought from your couch.

you hum in satisfaction, deciding that maybe rintarou was right about whatever science is behind the contents of this sandwich, or maybe he just needs to research the effect he has on you. you’re sure just being in his presence is sending melatonin straight to your brain–or however he said that works. “rin,” you hum, eyes closed as you remain leaning against him.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he asks. one of his arms has moved to wrap around your back, holding you close while one of his fingers grazes the skin of your arm, drawing lazy circles onto it.

“will you stay the night, too?” you ask, taking another bite of the sandwich.

he can’t help but smile, watching you snuggle up against him, scooting your chair and plate closer to him, closing the gap between you two. “of course, love, if that’s what you want,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

you nod in response to the statement, holding up your sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite of. “you're good at making sandwiches, but i think all i need is you to fall asleep,” you mumble tiredly and he chuckles.

“if you fall asleep here, i’ll have to carry you to your bed, you know,” he warns, but you're already drifting in and out of sleep, the plate on the table in front of you both now empty, besides a few crumbs of bread.

“that’s okay,” you try to say, fighting a losing battle against the sleep that's slowly overtaking you. “you can do it,” your last words of encouragement make his heart twist before your head lolls slightly, and he knows you’ve knocked out.

taglist: @akaakeis @wyrcan @daisy-room @eggyrocks @cheriisae @alexithemiyatic @kameyyy @iiwaijime @chaotic-neutral-ig @bakery-anon @kakeru-eem

[pretty-little-mind33]

For the Fluff Prompt: Tom Ryder with "I'd like my good morning kiss now, thank you very much" -🍒 anon

SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION

~ 🎶 ~

Tom stretches lazily, the hot air from outside causing his skin to feel sticky. He groans; shifting, as his eyes flutter open. He blinks, adjusting to the temperature.

He gently turns toward the sound of gentle breathing beside him, the sheets tangled around you as you continue to sleep soundly. You're dressed in nothing but a tank-top and a pair of panties.

A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Tom props himself up on one elbow and stares down at you, his heart swelling with a warmth much more pleasurable than the one in the room. Be admired the way your hair frames your face, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and the peaceful expression. He feels like the luckiest man alive. He could spend hours just watching you like this.

He leans in closer when you begin to wake, his lips brushing against your ear. "Mornin' sunshine, I'd like my good morning kiss now, thank you very much."

Your eyes open, and for a moment, you just blink in confusion. You stare at him, your arm still half-splayed across your face. When his words finally register, and you smile faintly. Still, you groan softly and turn, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

" Tom—" you mumble, trying to play it off.

"Oh c'mon, don't you leave me hangin'," he says sternly, giving you a playful nudge.

Reluctantly, you turn your head, eyes still heavy with sleep. "My breath probably stinks," you warn, sighing.

"Don't care," Tom laughs and shuts his eyes, waiting for his kiss. With a small sigh, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle and sleepy and oh so perfect.

Tom chuckles softly, his hands cupping your face as he deepens the kiss just enough to make your heart flutter. When he pulls back, he sends you a wink.

"Just what I needed to start my day."

You roll your eyes, kissing his nose sleepily and then turning away from him. You bury your face back into your pillow and lift the single sheet over you.

"Good. Now let me sleep," you whine, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend behind you.

[skibasyndrome]

please do the prompt 37: "aw, poor baby, do you want me to take care of this for you?"

with Simon teasing Wille and Wille being all quietly needy and whimpering ��🙏🙏

Thank you so much for sending me this prompt, dearest anon!!! 💜💜💜 Also thank you to everyone who voted in my poll for what to write next! Once again, it's Sunday and I have no snippet, so have this ficlet instead.

So sorry this took a while to get to, but I'm slowly working my way through the prompts. I hope you enjoy this one hehe, I had fun writing this!

cw: nsfw

Wille lets out a ragged puff of air, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. He's too impatient, he knows, god, he knows, but he can't help it. He can't find the right angle, wrist starting to ache where he's wedged his hand in between his propped up legs.

It's not... none of this is working the way it's supposed to, he can't twist his fingers in the way he wants to, can't reach far enough in this position. The position he chose himself so he wouldn't have to avert his eyes from Simon. He lets out a quiet whine and reopens his eyes. A small pang hits his chest when he finds Simon staring at him already, head slightly inclined now, a contemplative smile only just curving his lips. Fuck. Wille needs him, needs him so bad, had been waiting for him to come home ever since he slipped out the door in the morning, has been feeling out of it ever since, chest tight, thoughts swirling and jumping and leaving no space for him to think about anything but finally getting out of his head. He pulls his two fingers out, shakes out his wrist, tries again. It's a little easier now, yes, not easy enough though. He knows Simon will make him do it again if he stops now, if he tries to cut this part short, will make him continue fingering himself open, will make sure he's thorough with it before Wille can get anywhere near having Simon fuck him. Wille wants to scream into a pillow, and it's his own fault he chose to lie on his back instead and can't. Across from him, down by the foot of the bed, Simon is kneeling, has been kneeling there for longer than Wille can even begin to comprehend, and with every single lazy tug he gives to his cock Wille digs his teeth harder into his bottom lip. He wants his hand there, he wants to be stroking him, he wants to swallow his cock down, he wants to have Simon turn him onto his stomach and fuck him into the mattress. It feels deeply unfair that he has to bother with prepping himself, that he doesn't get to touch, that he barely gets a good look at Simon. That Simon sits there, like he's bored, waiting until Wille finally is ready for him. Hands all by himself, because he knows he would only distract Wille with them. Because he knows Wille would forget all about his task, would lean into his touch instead. If he weren't so set on doing what Simon so sweetly asked him to earlier, with his breath warm and his grip on Wille's hair deliciously tight, a smile on his lips when he asked if Wille could be good, and patient, and get ready - if he didn't have his mind set on proving that he can, he'd have given up already. But with every passing second, with every time he needs to shift around, needs to reapply lube, needs to crane his neck so he can better see what he can't have just yet, it's getting more difficult. His back is damp with sweat, his fringe sticking to his forehead and even when he twists his fingers again, too impatient, wanting to get this over with, it's nothing like when Simon does it. No matter how much he tries, it's nothing alike. The stretch is not enough, his fingers aren't moving smoothly enough. Even when he wraps a fist around his cock, waned slightly now compared to when he desperately ground it against Simon's thigh earlier, it's not enough. He could scream. Without warning, Wille feels a hand on his knee.

His head perks up, eyes landing on Simon. He's leaned forward, has apparently scooted closer, eyes still trained on where Wille is clumsily working his fingers in and out of himself. When he looks up, gaze meeting Wille’s, there’s a glint of mischief there. Wille swallows hard, feels the dryness of his throat and the faint beginnings of wetness on his lash line. Simon moves his hand, slowly rubbing a warm palm over Wille's propped up knee, fingers extending towards his straining thigh. It takes all of Wille's remaining strength not to pull his fingers out and surge forward, not to tug Simon down and on top of him. He bites down harder on his lip. "Oh baby…," Simon coos, eyes raking up the length of his body and down again. The sound goes right to Wille's cock, makes it twitch weakly in his grip. There's a taunting lilt to Simon's voice, like he can't quite believe Wille can't do it. It makes Wille want to whine and thrash and complain, but, god, does it also pool dangerously hot behind his navel. Instead of doing anything, he watches, absolutely enthralled, how Simon keeps petting his leg. He skates his hand along Wille's shin, then back up, over his thigh, getting so close to his cock that Wille's heart skips a beat. He can almost feel Simon's fingers on him, in him, thinks his curse is going to be lifted, but Simon tuts. "You can't make it work, can you?" The taunt wedges itself into Wille's mind, sharp and searing like a bullet. Dropping his head, he lets out a helpless groan. His face buns red-hot with shame-drenched arousal. Almost fully hard again, fuck, just from this, just from Simon talking… Wille involuntarily squirms under Simon’s watchful eyes. His movements have stilled completely, the immobility almost making Simon’s gaze more piercing, Wille’s cheeks even redder. But even with his mind and body betraying him, he's stubbornly hesitant to admit defeat. As if he can tell, as if he knows, Simon’s face of put-upon pity cracks, lets a cheeky smile slip. The anticipation nearly has Wille’s pulse skip over itself. “Hmmm?” Simon hums then, and moves his hand further, onto Wille’s arm. Wille’s breath catches inside of his throat, like the touch has frozen him in time. Soft fingertips are tracing down his arm, over the back of his hand, over his knuckles, carefully avoiding Wille’s cock. Keeping the distance of Wille’s own hand between them at all times. It’s like Wille can hear his resolve cracking in real time. “This isn’t doing it for you, is it?” Wille’s eyes slip closed against his volition, breath noisy when he blows it out through his nose. Fuck. Very slowly, he shakes his head 'no'.

Suddenly, Simon slips his hand further down. He traces Wille’s curled wrist, brushes over the tendons of his hand. And then he’s there, and Wille briefly forgets how to breathe. Simon’s fingers are lined up with Wille’s, gently petting where Wille has failed to open himself up for him, where Wille’s fingers are still holding space, just rubbing the slick skin, almost absentmindedly. Wille whimpers so loudly that Simon uses his other hand on his thigh to soothe him. God, Wille needs him so badly, thinks he’s going to burst into tears if Simon doesn’t do something about it. “Aw, my poor baby…,” Simon purrs, sweet and soft and with a devastating confidence that has Wille throbbing in his own grip again. He keeps massaging Wille’s rim with deft fingers, keeps working around Wille’s cramped up hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Words escape Wille, whines and broken moans and tiny movements of his hips the only way he’s able to take what Simon is offering. And he’s so greedy to take, so desperate for more, for everything. “Do you want me to take care of this for you?" When Wille nods wildly, tongue unwilling to form words, it’s like finally pulling the ripcord. Simon is quick to gentle Wille’s fingers out of himself, to shove his hand out of the way. The loud snap of a bottle cap, the slick sounds of him lubing up his fingers, and finally, finally, Simon is easing two of his fingers into Wille. Perfectly thick, angled just right, moving just slow enough to draw a string of needy noises out of Wille. He can feel his own cock hardening rapidly. Just as he’s about to warn Simon, about to promise he’s ready, beg for what he’s been waiting for all day, Simon shifts and lies down next to Wille, warm and smooth and hard against Wille’s hipbone. "Just have to ask, baby," Simon mumbles, moving his fingers even more slowly now, shallowly, like he knows Wille can already take him. Like he still wants to make him squirm and wait.  "I know this is difficult for you." His breath is hot against Wille's ear. His fingers unrelenting. "But you need to ask when you can't do it yourself. Need to let me help you." Wille nods weakly, throat dry from all his breathy gasps. "Yeah," he sobs, canting his hips for Simon to get better access, to go- oh. "Y-eah," he gasps again, breath leaving his lungs all at once when Simon nudges his fingers against that devastatingly sensitive spot inside of him. He tightens his fist around his cock, tries to reel back from the edge Simon has pushed him to. Then, “please”, he manages, voice cracking and eyes squeezed shut. With a last teasing drag of his fingers, Simon pulls back and away from Wille’s panting body, leaving his mind spinning, his muscles twitching. But when he hears the bottle cap again, the tell-tale slickness of Simon’s fist flying over himself, Wille feels his body relax against the mattress. Knows that Simon will take care of him.

Feel free to send me some prompts from that list, or just make some up <3 Or read my other ficlets here

also pls let me know what you think <3

[wchswift]

pairing: eddie alden x f!reader

summary: you ask your boyfriend eddie to braid your hair. anon reqs: congratulations to the 125 followers! 🌺could i request eddie alden with the prompt: “could you help me [curl, straighten, braid, etc.] my hair?”

word count: 977

content: fluff, humor, established relationship, flirty

note: thank you sm anon!! sorry for accidentally deleting your request from my inbox, hope you see this <3 this is part of my 125 followers celebration! Join the celebration too!

── english isn't my first language :)

mdni 𖤐 18+

You huffed in frustration, staring at your reflection in the small mirror propped up on Eddie’s dresser. You and Eddie had arranged to go out tonight, like a date, something more romantic and intimate to spend time together.

The night out was supposed to be fun—a few drinks, some dancing, and a good night together after returning to the apartment. Maybe you’d even tease him a little if he got jealous of a guy looking at you. Lately, you and Eddie hadn’t been able to enjoy a good time outside of just the two of you, so you decided to dress up more than usual and even braid your hair—something different from your typical loose, wavy style

Behind you, Eddie lay sprawled out on the bed, one arm tucked under his head, watching your struggle with a lazy smirk.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve been fighting with that thing longer than it’ll actually take us to get to the bar,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You shot him a glare through the mirror. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you suddenly become a hair expert?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, grinning. “I mean, how hard can it be? Twist a little, loop a little, tie it up—bam. Done.”

A beat passed before you turned, eyes narrowing, analyzing him. “Think you could do better?”

Eddie raised a brow. “Are you seriously asking me to do your hair?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned, grabbing the brush and tossing it at him. He caught it with surprising ease. “Come on, babe... Seriously, could you please help me braid my hair?" you softly asked, pouting.

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh but swung his legs off the bed, patting the space between them. “Alright, sweetheart. Sit your pretty self down."

Rolling your eyes but secretly loving how easy this all was with him, you settled between his legs on the floor. His knees brushed your sides as he gathered your hair in his hands, fingers skimming the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver. He paused. “You okay?”

You scoffed. “It’s just… your hands are cold.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, smug as ever. “Thought maybe I had some kinda effect on you.”

You huffed a laugh. “Eddie, just focus.”

“Bossy,” he murmured, but there was warmth in his voice. “So… what exactly am I doing?” he asked, amusement still thick in his tone.

“A simple braid,” you said, “and don’t pull too hard, or I swear to God, Eddie—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled. "Relax, baby, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gentle, huh?" he teased, and you just rolled your eyes.

His fingers threaded through your hair, working with more patience than you expected. You could feel him frowning slightly in concentration, his movements gentle, if a little unpracticed. Every now and then, he’d brush too close to your ear, or tilt your head slightly to the side, muttering, "Stay still, baby," like he was the one doing you a favor.

At one point, he clicked his tongue. “I should start charging for this.”

You snorted. “Yeah? What’s the price?”

Eddie leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “One kiss per braid.”

You grinned. “So if I ask for two?”

“Then I’m a very well-paid man,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

A soft chuckle left your lips, and for a moment, you let yourself just be in this—his hands in your hair, the quiet hum of a song playing from the radio, the warmth of his presence behind you.

“You smell nice,” he murmured absentmindedly.

You let out an amused huff, but a smile crept onto your lips. “You’re just saying that to distract me from whatever disaster you’re creating back there.”

“Mm, maybe,” he admitted, his tone teasing. He remained silent for a few seconds before he sat back with a satisfied noise. “Done.”

You reached back, fingers brushing over a surprisingly neat braid. Turning in his lap, you gave him an impressed look. “Okay, where the hell did you learn that?”

Eddie shrugged, smirking. “You pick up a thing or two when you’ve spent years charming women.”

You raised your eyebrows playfully. "Is that so, Alden? Hum, I was gonna kiss you for your services, but I don’t know now…” You stated, turning back toward the mirror.

Eddie wrapped his strong arms around your waist from behind, pressing his chin to your shoulder. “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.”

He let out an exaggerated gasp. “Don't be like that, baby. No tip? After all my hard work?”

You playfully jabbed him in the side, a teasing smile stretched across your face. “I don’t know if you deserve it...”

He just chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder. “Aw, baby, not even one?” he pleaded, his breath warm against your skin.

You pretended to think about it before turning to face him fully. “Fine. One.”

His grin was immediate. “I’ll take it.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was meant to be quick, but Eddie had other ideas—his fingers slid to your jaw, keeping you there just a second longer, deepening it just enough to leave you a little breathless.

When you pulled back, his smirk was nothing short of triumphant. “Guess that means I’m on permanent hair duty now, huh?”

You laughed, flicking his forehead. “Don’t push it, Alden.”

He grinned, reaching for his jacket. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me spoil you.”

As you stood, adjusting your outfit, you caught him glancing at your braid with something almost proud in his expression. And, okay—maybe you would let him do it again sometime.

Maybe.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!