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#clumsy-hood
archaeologysucks · 2 years
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I've been reading Howard Pyle’s “classic” children’s version of the Robin Hood story, published in 1883, and if I had a nickel for every time he uses the word "stout", I would have $12.35, because he has used it 247 times in this 207 page ebook, including this shining example:
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Learn another adjective, Howard. I am begging you.
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plushyluke · 2 years
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he is so silly
via: jelliesos
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asexualbert · 1 year
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So
I wasn't exactly planning for the first installment in this AU to be a Christmas short but, here we are.
Enjoy!
-–—–-
It may have been a little much.
Tim stepped back, examining his handy work. It certainly was... Big. All the movies seemed to say that was a good thing, but it was also, apparently, seriously inconvenient to work with.
Though a seven foot Fraser fir was by far not the most questionable thing he'd ever hauled into the building at half past midnight, he was glad as ever not to have nosy neighbours. The trip had admittedly not been particularly graceful...
Tim sighed. Was he going about it all wrong? He probably should have asked the kid if he even wanted all this right? But, though for the life of him he couldn't understand why it had seemed so important, he'd wanted it to be a surprise. Hence, he supposed, his spending nearly five hours of optimal working time to track down, set up, and put lights on the Christmas tree now residing in the middle of his living room. Not to mention sweeping; apparently the stupid thing shed like a bitch too and, with the kid asleep, the vacuum was out of the question.
He'd never really done Christmas before. His parents had been Jewish as far as he was aware, though they hadn't really discussed it, as had the Waynes. The only religion the League followed was whatever the hell Ra's was on, and they certainly weren't pausing all the cult activity to celebrate a nice secular Christmastime once a year.
Tim himself had been decidedly agnostic despite it all for as long as he could remember and, since coming back, any and all holidays had been tucked neatly away in his mind, alongside his emotions, as irrelevant and inefficient; entirely unnecessary to his beautifully simple green worldview.
But then, as usual it seemed lately, there was Jason.
The kid hadn't asked for anything; he never did, but that was a different concern which Tim didn't have the capacity to go into at the moment. Nearly two weeks ago though, he'd mentioned in passing how he used to celebrate Christmas with his mother, and Tim had been thinking about it ever since.
———
"It wasn't big or anything. We'd go down to the soup kitchen early t'get one of the really good meals they only serve on the holidays and then build snowmen in the park. They were pretty bad, but mama always called'em "abstract"" Jason made air quotes as he spoke, giggling slightly. "Then we'd go home an' she'd give me a present. It wasn't ever anything much; new pair of shoes or a jacket from the Goodwill if she'd managed. And then she'd sing. Kept doing that bit even after she got sick, at least until it got too hard." His smile turned sad, "she had a real pretty voice. Didn't sing much cause dad didn't like it, but on Christmas she always did..."
Jason was quiet for a while after that, leaning timidly against Tim's side as he'd taken to doing as of late. Neither said anything for about five minutes until Jason, sounding half asleep, spoke quietly.
"It's special you know? Christmastime. Even if it is cold, it's still... Special."
———
Tim examined the tree again, shining with the rainbow coloured lights he'd fought with for nearly an hour. Maybe it was a little over the top, the whole event of dragging in and setting up a live tree in the middle of the night, just to surprise a ten year old he'd had for barely more than six weeks. It was ridiculous and unnecessary and nothing like him.
But his kid deserved the best. And if it made Jay smile?
Tim somehow knew that he would do it over again every year.
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flamingpudding · 5 months
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Guys it's just merch
Danny watched with a smile hidden behind his mug of hot cocoa his new family. Originally he was only going to mess with them a little, since he wanted to keep his civilian live he gained with them but at the same time wanted to kind of provoke them to tell him about their night time jobs on their own.
Not like he could just flat out tell them he knew about their vigilantes lifes and that would be embarrassing to explain.
It's not every day that Danny's powers fluked on him, but with the stress of the past months, it happened. Right at a moment, he had to be clumsy and trip over his own feet and accidentally phased through a grandfather's clock, finding a hidden passage. Well at least he learned that way that Batman hadn't placed him with some other rich fruitloop that wasn't his godfather but well... with Batman himself and his family out of mask.
Yeah no, he did not want to explain that and hoped they would do that themselves. But apparently, they took Danny's statement of wanting a normal life a bit too serious.
Which brought him back to his current entertainment in the form of messing with his siblings.
"I don't get what the problem is guys. It's just merch." He chuckled slightly at the face Damian was making. While Jason chose to kick Tim under the table.
"Soooo how much merch on Red Robin do you have with this shirt now?" Dick asked instead with a bright smile, Danny still hadn't figured out how to tell what emotion he hid behind them sometimes.
"I think this is my third shirt of him." Danny mused, placing his cup back on the table and tapping his lip in a thinking motion. "Though I was going to pick up a couple of custom-made jackets of Red Hood and a Nightwing plush later today."
He acted like he did not hear the triumph like hiss of 'yes' from Jason as well as the very upset huff of Damian.
He just grinned at the amusement about how they apparently were competing over how much merch he owned of each of them.
When he found a Robin figure and several Robin pins mysteriously placed on his desk the next morning, he broke out laughing. Yet still just to mess with them gushed about his newly gotten merch to his family while sharing a knowing look with Alfred who knew he was just messing with them.
If there was a surprising amount of Batman merch, suddenly mixed into what he already owned the following week without his knowledge. Well, he wasn't going to complain about free stuff.
But he still would get a good laugh out of their reactions on the day he decided to full on dawn every piece of Batman merge instead of theirs.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months
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Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot
18+
(characters are high but all consensual.)
Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.
But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.
You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.
Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.
Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.
It was— it was?
“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”
You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.
You don’t know why you’d told him that.
Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:
“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”
His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.
You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.
“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”
Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.
“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”
So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.
You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.
“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.
You were still watching the boy.
Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.
“Yeah? Feel good?”
You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”
You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.
“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”
You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.
“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”
The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.
“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”
You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.
You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.
You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.
“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”
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rowarn · 9 months
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okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever könig fighting for ur attention!!!
when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.
the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.
the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.
he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.
part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.
it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met könig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.
when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.
it was kind of...cute.
when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!
tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.
as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.
in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with könig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.
he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.
the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.
until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with könig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).
könig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.
"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.
you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.
you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end könig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.
"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"
that was one thing you liked about könig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.
simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.
even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.
and könig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.
it wasn't like könig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.
so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.
he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.
"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with könig annoyed him more than you thought.
you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."
that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.
"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."
that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named könig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"
"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.
"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.
at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"
that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.
he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!
the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.
then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.
simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.
simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.
the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with könig. it was a quaint little bar that könig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.
you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.
his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.
you cursed under your breath, catching könig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at könig.
"can we help you...?" könig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.
"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. könig straightened up in his seat at that.
"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.
you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards könig who looked confused.
"no." you answered simply.
with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.
simons glare fixed upon könig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.
könig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.
it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.
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nocherryblood · 1 year
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Feeling sad again ♡
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jaysgirlx · 5 months
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Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.
Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.
Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.
Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.
Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.
Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.
Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.
Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…
Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.
Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.
Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"
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loupetlapinn · 1 month
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𝟐:𝟑𝟕 𝐚𝐦
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t/w: intox, dubcon, noncon, coercion, forced breeding if you squint kinda maybe idk, unprotected sex. a/n: MDNI. basically a continuation of my drunk post lmao. this is Also unbetad. also i may be delirious. felt cute might delete later. synopsis: just a . . . casual drink with cheol pt 2. w/c: don't ask. feel free to block me.
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His breath on your neck has you squirming in place, the humidity spreading over the expanse of exposed skin.
“It’s like this is what you wanted all along,” his condescending voice echoing in your ear. 
Your reply nothing but a whimper as his fingers slip over slick folds, teasing.
“You poor thing.”
Every syllable sliding off his tongue seeps their way into your ears, numbing your senses further. You offer a small whimper in your current state but it does nothing but encourage his attentions. Firm hands soothing over bare skin, tracing over curves and slopes as your chest rises and falls.
“That's it, baby,” he purrs, bulbous head of his cock teasing your quivering entrance. “Taking me so nicely.”
Your breath stuttering, eyes rolling back as your clumsy limbs arrange themselves. Desperately grasping at the closest pillows, knuckles blanching with the stretch of every inch sinking into your barely prepped heat. 
“So fucking wet,” he muses, the pad of his thumb circling your hypersensitive clit as you jump at the sensation. “I’ve barely touched you . . . That’s all it takes? A few drinks and you’re drenched and spreading your legs so easily for me?”
“Cheol . . .” mumbled words and muffled noises follow, slurred “mphm’s” and short little gasps following as your eyes roll back. Repeating his name until you’re able to do so with a hint of coherence rather than a jumble of noises strewn together. “Cheol . . . I-I’m not—” you hiccup your words, trying to keep your train of thought. Which was practically impossible from the warmth of alcohol thrumming through your veins and the incessant throb of Seungcheol’s cock as he bullies his way further inside of your fluttering cunt.
“Not what?” he coos. If you had any presence of mind, you might’ve noticed the condescending tone that laces his every word. The smug grin that pulls lazily at the corners of plush lips, dark gaze hooded and hungry as he takes in every minuscule reaction you have to offer through your thick haze. “Big girl words, c’mon.”
He can’t help but snicker as your mouth opens but nothing intelligible follows.
“You know how long I’ve been thinking of this?” he grunts with a rough snap of his hips slapping against the flushed skin of your thighs, earning himself yet another pitched mewl from your lips. “This pretty little cunt wrapped around me— Fuck. Gonna cry for me this time, mhm? Or will I have to try a little harder?”
“Seungcheol ‘m not . . .” you fist at his shirt, eyes screwed shut as you can’t handle the way the room spins as you squirm beneath his broad frame, “. . . n-not— can’t . . .please, Cheol, please.”
“Not what, baby, mhm? Can’t what?” he mocks, eyes transfixed on the swell of your breasts as they jostle with every move, “It seems like you can. Look at you, greedy, taking my cock like this.”
“H-hurts, Cheol, it hurts.” Your hand haphazardly slapping around to find his hips, trying to push at him. If anything, it only encourages his ruthless pace.
“Hurts?” A thick brow arches, a firm hand snatching your jaw as he peers through dark lashes, scrutinizing you. “You want it to hurt?”
Glassy eyes that peer back at him only make his dick twitch in your vice like grip. Watching as you attempt to shake your head as his grasp is nearly bruising, squishing your cheeks to pout your moistened and bruised lips. Lips he can’t help but smash his own against, ignoring your noises of disapproval as his tongue intrudes past the seam of those lips of yours. His hips as relentless as his mouth as he drills you into the bed. A considerably violent slam eliciting a rather loud cry from you that he hungrily swallows down between your sloppy lip lock.
He only pulls away to mouth his way along your jawline, dipping lower and lower with every lave of his tongue and graze of his teeth. A hand coming palm over your breasts, squeezing, guiding a pert mound into his mouth to suction lewdly around it. The filthy noise almost rivals the debauched squelch of where your bodies fused together.
Your body felt like a live wire. Everything was happening too quickly all at once. Even you couldn’t believe the noises that only continued to fall from your lips.
“Fuck . . .” A finger of his once again snakes down between the both of you, finding your sensitive clit, “Want you to cum on my cock, I know you can.”
The noises you make as he pushes you closer to climax only drags him along with you. Your writhing beneath him pouring fuel on the fire. “Don’t fight it, baby. You’re squeezing so tight, I know you want it.”
“Cheol— Cheol, please!”
He’s enraptured with the way your body trembles and quakes beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you. Choking out a few grunts at the way you seize around him so drastically.
“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked,” he hisses, fucking you through your release without remorse. “Gonna make a mess of this cunt.”
It was almost as if he plows forward with renewed energy, determined to follow through on his word.
“W-wait . . . Wait, Cheol, pull out. I’m not on birth control. Please.” There they were, those pretty tears, Seungcheol knew you had it in you. Crystalline as they begin to trickle down blotchy cheeks. “Pull out! Cheol, please, I can’t . . . I can’t!”
“You can,” he insists, “but, you are.” Between your tears, your pleas and the cry of his name as it sounds from your mouth. There isn’t an inkling of a chance Seungcheol was pulling out, definitely not now. “I’ll show you.”
His release spills past your entrance with the sheer amount that floods your abused walls, quivering weakly around him as he catches his breath above you. Rocking his hips gingerly into as he gives himself time to come down, feeling him gradually soften before he’s slowly dragging his length from your core.
“See,” his fingers root in your hair, guiding your face to look downwards. Your eyes following his blearily as his cum leaks from your puffy cunt.
“You can after all.”
525 notes · View notes
skzdarlings · 1 year
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04. sharing a bed series ; skz ; hyunjin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 4/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. penetrative sex n the pull out method lol. also hyunjin n reader were drugged the night before, premise is based around them getting married in vegas under the influence and not remembering how it happened in the morning. drama llama antics ensue.
-
Hyunjin has the heart of a sentimental corvid; he loves his people, but he’s weird and sneaky about it.  His propensity for dramatics is only in certain situations and the rest of the time he is quiet and tends to balk at grand displays.   He definitely does not like cuddling or hugging.  He will only begrudgingly suffer through it when his more physically affectionate friends get the bright idea to attack him with their loving arms. 
So you are wildly confused when you wake up in your hotel room with Hyunjin plastered to you, hugging you so tightly that you are halfway convinced he glued himself there.  His chin is nestled on your shoulder, his breath coming softly against your neck.  The hood of his grey sweatshirt is pulled over his head but some of his long blonde hair still falls on your face.  You blow at it unsuccessfully, getting some in your eye.  He holds you tighter.   
What the hell?
You arrived in Las Vegas yesterday and while most of last night is a foggy blur, you do remember the room had two twin beds.  Sure enough, there is a second bed just a few feet from yours, the covers completely untouched.  The neatly made bed is a stark contrast to the mess of your bed: the duvet sliding off the foot, the pillows on the floor, the bedding partially untucked.  All the sheets are wrapped around your body like a cocoon while a shivering Hyunjin clings to you, presumably for warmth.    
You try to roll over but your bedsheet-burrito has you trapped, never mind Hyunjin’s death grip of a spoon. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper.  “I can’t breathe.”
He grumbles and squeezes you, making you squeak.
“Hyunjin,” you say, a bit louder.  “Wake up.”
He groans in his sleep and buries his face further in your neck.  His nuzzling sends shivers shooting down your spine. 
“Hyunjin.”  It comes out like a croak.   You try wriggling your shoulders.  “Hyunjin, wake up!” 
He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t move.
“Oh my god,” you say.  “How are you such a bitch even when sleeping? Wake up!” 
When he stays sleeping, you are forced to take drastic action.  You turn your face and blow, hard.   His face scrunches up and he finally stirs. 
“Ew,” he says, slowly blinking his eyes open.  His mouth draws into a sour pout, his brow tight.  “Stop.  Your breath is so disgusting.”
“Ahem.”
He makes a fist and rubs his eyes.   His dark brows are still furrowed but there is modicum of clarity when he looks at you.  It takes a minute to fully register your proximity, his eyes flicking here and there.  Finally, they open wide.  
With remarkable speed, Sleepy Hyunjin concedes leeway to Drama Queen Hyunjin.   He mewls like a frightened cat, ripping away so quickly that it knocks the air out of you with an oof. 
“What—” he starts.
He is interrupted when his thrashing makes him slide.  You are still bundled in your bedsheet-prison and can only watch as the clumsy oaf slides backwards right off the bed.  All those long limbs make a frantic windmill as he shrieks on his way down, hitting the floor with a heavy crash and groan. 
“You okay?” you ask. 
“Ugh,” he replies.   “My head.”
“Are you dying?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.  Well, when you’re done, come help me.”
His hand appears first, thumping onto the messy bed.  His head follows with an exhausted peek over the mattress.  His hood has fallen back and his long hair is infuriatingly neat considering everything.  Hyunjin is so beautiful that it is ridiculous.  All he does is run his long fingers through his hair, shake his head a little, and he looks picture perfect. 
“You’re staring,” he says with a scowl. 
“It’s because you’re so ugly,” you say. 
“Liar,” he says.  He makes a V with his fingers and licks between them.  “I’m sexy and you love me.” 
He is correct, so it is only natural that you try biting him.    
You chomp at him when he approaches, threatening to bite his fingers when they get too close to your face.  He pinches your nose between two knuckles and squeezes.
“Hyunjiiiiin, staaawp,” you say in a nasally whine.
He does, but only after playfully snapping his own jaws in your direction. 
“I should just leave you here and have a peaceful day,” he says.
“I’ll kill you and bury you in the desert.”
“Gross.  Can’t you bury me on the strip?”
“I’m gonna feed your carcass to some desert scorpions.”
“Ew.” 
It takes some effort, but Hyunjin manages to find where your blanket-burrito starts.  He grabs it and tugs like the annoying bimbo he is.  Your protest comes too late and he whips the blanket open, sending you flying off the bed.  You land with a heavy thud of your own. 
“Oops,” he says.  He rustles through the sheets to peer over the edge of the bed.  “Are you okaaaa—whaaaat are you wearing?”
You were already dizzy before Hyunjin decided to throw you around like a human tennis ball, but now it’s even worse. 
You have no idea what happened last night but it clearly involved a hit of something way, way, way stronger than usual.  It takes you a minute to come back to reality.  After shaking your head a few times, you are able to push yourself into a sitting position.  You finally look down.
You freeze. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “What the fuck am I wearing?”
“That’s what I just—”
“Hyunjin.  What the fuck am I wearing?!”
It is an utterly useless question because it is abundantly obvious that you are wearing a wedding dress.   A big, poofy, princess wedding dress with giant puffed up 1980s sleeves and enough cleavage on display that Hyunjin almost falls off the bed because he is tilting his head so much. 
You yank up the skirt as if that will offer any answers.  You find a pair of white stockings, one still neatly clipped to a thigh garter and the other halfway down your calf.   You stare at that stocking for a long moment, the vaguest recollection of something fighting its way through the fog of your druggy, drunk memory.   
“Uh,” Hyunjin says. 
You look up at him but his eyes are downturned to his own wrist.  You look there, your own eyes widening when you see what he sees. 
Your missing garter is looped around his wrist like a silky white bracelet. 
An image comes flooding back.  The periphery is still in smog, but you distinctly remember Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, gathering his long hair into a ponytail as he smirked up at you.  You remember him lifting your skirt, his head disappearing under the pile of white lace. 
You look at each other at the same time.  Did he just have the same memory?  Does he remember more?  You have no idea and you can’t bring yourself to ask.  Your voice is shot to hell, swallowed up by the heart that seems to have jumped into your throat.   
The silence is tense.  It is hotter than the desert in here. 
“We didn’t…?” he finally says, pointing between the two of you. 
“No way,” you say.  It sounds very uncertain. 
He lifts his other hand to tuck some hair behind his ears.  That’s when you see it.  Hyunjin wears so many rings so often that you completely missed it at first.   But right now his hands are bare save for one unfamiliar ring in a very particular spot. 
Hyunjin follows the trajectory of your horrified gaze and freezes when he spots the wedding ring.  He slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  You are afraid to check your own hand but it is imperative.   Hyunjin looks at you, his shocked hand still covering his mouth.  Together, you watch as your hand shakily rises out of the pile of white princess lace. 
There is a wedding ring on your finger too. 
You and Hyunjin scream at the same time, him clapping both hands over his ears as he hollers and you shaking your head and kicking your feet.  After your mini-freak out, you wave your hands to silence him.
“Stop, stop!” you say.  “It’s okay.  Be calm.  Be quiet.  This is okay.”
“We got married,” he wails, dragging his fingers down his face.  “My mom is gonna kill me.” 
“Your mom?  YOUR MOM?  Hyunjin, I’m gonna kill you before you even leave this city, so don’t fucking worry about your mom.”  You mime throttling him because he is too far to reach. 
Hyunjin flops down on the bed.  He lays on his back with his arms folded like he is ready to be mummified. 
“Oh my gawd,” he says.  “Oh my gawwwd…”
“Look, we might not have even done it,” you say.  It takes a lot of effort and you fall on your ass twice, but you manage to stagger ungracefully to your feet.  “Some rings and a dress don’t mean anything.  We were probably just goofing around.  What do you remember?” 
He is still in a mummification pose, his eyes closed.   
“Nothing,” he says.  He frowns.  “No, wait.  You were hitting on some ugly bitch of a man and didn’t listen to me, as usual, and the loser put something in your drink so I drank it to prove a point.  But then you still drank it because you’re the worst, and I dragged you out of there.”  He covers his face with both hands.  “Then we got married and ruined our lives.” 
“Okay, the last part you don’t know for sure,” you say.  You stumble around the bed.  “I’m gonna go wash up and clear my head and sort this out, because there’s no way we—”  You stop when you spy something sitting on the television stand.  It takes a few clumsy steps to reach, but you get there.
“Uh oh,” you say.
“Is that a marriage certificate?”  Hyunjin asks.
“No.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“Yes.” 
“Cool.”  He rolls over so he is facedown on the bed, his voice muffled by the messy blankets.  “I love this.”
“I’m gonna… go… wash up still,” you stay.  You sigh and gather up your dress to stomp over to the bathroom door. 
“Brush your teeth,” Hyunjin says.  “Your breath is gross.” 
“I hope you suffocate over there and make me a widow.”  You close the door with a pointed shove. 
You want to disobey him on principle, but there is a truly nasty taste in your mouth so you brush your teeth before anything else.  You avoid your reflection for as long as possible because the crazed madwoman in the mirror is a terrifying sight to behold. 
You reckon with her monstrous appearance eventually, tidying up as best you can.   You remove the stockings and garter, gulping when the memory returns.  You splash a lot of cold water on your face and it helps ground you. 
Just as you begin to feel cleansed, you feel an itch on your throat.  You crane your neck and tentatively touch the sensitive indentation, the raised bruising of a hickey.   Touching it awakens another memory, one that strikes hot at your core. 
Hyunjin.  You.  This hotel room.  He pressed you against the door and caged you in, forearms on either of your head.  Despite his presence looming over you, you did not feel nervous.   You touched him as if that intimacy was something you always shared.  You remember him cupping your face in one hand and turning your head, him kissing you softly on your temple and cheek, him breathing lightly over your throat before sucking a hard kiss under your jaw.  He was all teeth and tongue, drawing moans out of you while you bucked against him.   You remember him grinding against you, remember him pinning you to the door.   You remember stringing your arms around his neck and him picking you up, then it all goes black again.   
You turn away from the mirror, still holding your neck. 
Did you… no.
Did you?
No.
You didn’t fuck Hyunjin.  No way.  You would have remembered that much.  If nothing else, there would be evidence now.  A used condom or a mess somewhere, a twinge between your legs.  You are both fully dressed.  You even have underwear on.  It’s not the underwear you were wearing when you first left the hotel room, but it is underwear nonetheless. 
One thing is certain; you did not go that far. He took a bite out of you and carried you to the bed where you probably passed out.  How you got into a blanket-burrito, you are not sure, but at least it protected your dignity.  Whatever was left of it, at least. 
You step out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a pacing Hyunjin.   You bonk heads and cuss each other out, swatting the other person out of your way. 
He walks over to the bathroom and is about to step inside when you release a sigh. 
“I have a hickey,” you say.   
He pauses in the bathroom doorway. 
“You gave it to me,” you add. 
You cross your arms when he turns around, his gaze suddenly too hard to meet.  You tap your foot and stare at the wall. 
“I know,” he says.  “I remember it.” 
That draws your attention.  You look right at him and plant your hands on your hips. 
“Well, what else do you remember?” you ask. 
“I—I—ugh!  This is so annoying!  Ugh!”  He grabs his head and shakes it like a snow globe. 
His stupid beautiful hair is barely ruffled and he still looks amazing when he surfaces.  He runs his teeth over his plump bottom lip and you suddenly remember him grabbing your face with both hands, him smiling at you as a hot breeze fluttered around you, him holding you steady as he planted a big, wet kiss on you.  It makes your whole body lock with tension, barely paying attention to the Hyunjin in front of you now, the Hyunjin on the verge of a meltdown as he intentionally smacks his head against the doorway. 
“We came back here,” he says.  His whole face is scrunched up with disgust like he just ate something bad.  “Then I gave you that.”  He slaps a hand over his face.  “Then you… tried…”  He puts the other hand on his face too.
“I tried what?” you ask, heat creeping your neck. 
“You put your hand down my pants,” he croaks, hands over his eyes.  “I said we should wait until morning and you started crying.  I think you tried to give me a lap dance while crying, actually.”  That does sound like you, drugged or not.  “Then I…”  He points to the messy bed.  “I wrapped you in the sheet to protect your honour.”   
“My honour?  Ewwww.  Don’t call it that.”
“I’m gonna go drown myself in the shower.” 
“Hyunjin, wait.”
Once more, you stop him before he crosses the door.  He sighs and his shoulders deflate.  Pushing a hand through his hair, he turns around.
“What?” he says. 
“I’ll take care of this, okay,” you say gently.  “We weren’t ourselves.  Thank you… for taking care of me.  Seriously.” 
He sniffs and looks aside, the tips of his ears turning red.  You try to ignore the pitter-patter of your heart.  
“It’s Vegas,” you say.  “I bet they have drive-through divorces.  I’m just… I’m just sorry this happened.” 
“You are?” he says, staring at the ground. 
“Of course,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster.  “Hyunjin, I know you.  You’re a goofy old romantic.  I’m sure you’re not happy about your first technical marriage happening while you were drugged up, and to someone you don’t even love.  Right?”
He looks a little panicked when he meets your gaze.  It flashes in his eyes for a second, then he looks away.  He crosses his arms protectively over his chest.    
“Hyunjin,” you say.  It feels like someone just lit fireworks in your chest.  “You… don’t… love me, right?” 
There is a long moment of silence then he throws both hands in the air. 
“Why do you say it like that?” he demands.  “Would it be that bad if I did?”
“What.” Your jaw falls open.  “You love me?”   
“Unfortunately, yes.  Sorry for inconveniencing you with my goofy romantic feelings.”  He snarls at you.  “It just happened.  If I could have stopped it, I would have, but I can’t.  So live with it.” 
“What kind of love confession is this?  You’ve watched like a million romance dramas and that’s what you come up with?”
“I’m a painter, not a poet.  Good-bye.”  He is quick this time, jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.   
It leaves you standing there, jaw still hanging open. 
Hyunjin loves you. 
Of course Hyunjin loves you.  How could you be so stupid?  All this time, you had yourself convinced your best friend was unattainable because he’s the most gorgeous creature on earth, but all this time he loved you and you didn’t even notice.   He drank a drugged drink just to protect you.  He got a bit nutty in the head and married you, but even at his most fucked up, some intrinsic part of him sprung to your defense.  No matter how out of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that could potentially hurt you. 
Oh my god.  
Hyunjin loves you.  You love Hyunjin. 
You are pacing when Hyunjin exits the bathroom and smacks into you.  You bonk heads and curse, again, then he brushes past without saying anything more.  You watch him go to the clean bed, watch him fold back the covers.   He takes off his hoodie and his pants.  Despite how many times you have casually dressed down around each other, this time you find yourself looking away, hot in the face.   When you look back, he is in a t-shirt and his boxers, sliding under the covers. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, fiddling with your thumbs.
“Going back to sleep,” he says.  “I’m tired.”  
He doesn’t look at you once.  He rolls onto his side and faces the wall, laying stiff as a board. 
You touch a finger to the mark on your neck and shiver.
“Hyunjin,” you say, to which he just grunts in reply.  “I want to sleep too.  I’m sorry, but can you help me with the dress?” 
He exhales and closes his eyes, shoulders dropping, but then he flips the covers down and gets out of bed.   He still doesn’t meet your gaze.   His strides are long and quick and, before you can blink, he is in front of you. 
You open your mouth to speak but he grabs you and spins you around.  It feels like an electric zap from your heart to your pussy, hands instinctively clutching your chest in surprise. 
You can feel him fiddling with a few buttons, muttering expletives to himself.   
He is still wearing the ring.  So are you. 
“Hyunjin,” you say softly.  “I love you too.” 
He has his fingers on the zipper.  He stops. 
“What?” he asks.  He stops touching you entirely so you look back at him.  He is tucking hair behind both ears, shaking his head.  “Don’t just… say it,” he says, still staring sideways.  “That’s worse than not hearing it.” 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  At least he looks at you this time, even if it is with uncharacteristic uncertainty.  You smile at him.  “Unzip me please.” 
You turn back around, chewing on your bottom lip.  
It takes a second, but Hyunjin does what you asked.  You feel one hand on your back, the other circling the zipper.  He tugs it down slowly and you shiver as the cool air conditioned air kisses your back.  His fingers brush your bare skin when releasing the zipper.
“Thank you,” you say, glancing back at him. 
He nods curtly and spins around.  You smile, watching him march back to the bed.   You turn your back to him when you let the dress drop, then you remove your bra.  His open luggage is nearby so you slip a t-shirt out of the suitcase.  It smells like him, his favourite cologne, and that alone gets you hot.  
With a final tug on the hem of the t-shirt, you turn and walk up to the bed he is in.  He is sitting upright but under the covers, his hands folded neatly in his lap while he stares at you. 
“Can I sleep here too?” you ask.  “The other bed is a mess.”
He nods.  A second ago, he refused to look at you and now he can’t stop staring.  It makes you grin, beaming at him as you slide under the covers. 
“You’re staring,” you say. 
“I’m not,” he lies, still staring at you.  He slumps against the headboard and slides down until he is laying flat.  His hair pools around him on the pillow.  Ridiculously gorgeous man. 
You lean over him, staring back.  You rest a hand on his chest and can feel his heart palpitating as quickly as your own. 
“You are staring,” you say, then giggle a little because his expression is still wide-eyed.  “You look like you’ve never seen a woman in bed before, and I know that’s not true.”   
You say it jokingly but he doesn’t laugh.  He tilts his head, his expression softening.  His tongue touches his upper lip then he smiles at you. 
“Not like this,” he says with heart-stopping sincerity.  “Not you.  Not… my wife.” 
Oh god.   People always act like there is something supremely unsexy about wife or husband, some stagnant nothingness that kills sex appeal.  But the second he says that word, it feels like an electric storm ignites between the two of you.   His gaze is dark, his breathing hard, his heart still pounding under your palm.  You suck in a deep breath, a shuddering release.  You are already aching. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper. 
His hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.  It passes over your bottom lip and tugs at it.  It feels like you have a heartbeat between your legs. 
“Fuck,” you say, and swing yourself over him. 
He makes a noise the second you are straddling him, both his hands dropping to hold your hips.   You lean down, your hands on either side of his head.  His eyes are already closed when you start kissing him.  You rock against him, feel him getting harder in his boxers as his hands run up and down your thighs. 
The kiss breaks for a second, just to breathe, and he sighs. 
“Good,” he says.  “You brushed your teeth.”
“You are soooo…”  You try to sound annoyed but it’s impossible.  He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth.  “Ughhh, the worst!” 
You roll off him as if you have any intention of denying him, but he doesn’t give you a chance to tease him.   He just follows, rolling on top of you so it’s you pinned under him, the weight of him between your open legs.   He goes right back to kissing you, taking his time, almost torturously slow while pressed so intimately against you.  He licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, steals your breath and comes back for more. 
“Hyunjin.”  You are out of breath.  You grab his face with both hands, gasping against his open mouth. 
“Mm?” he replies, pecking your lips. 
A part of you thinks you could lie in bed all day doing nothing but kiss Hyunjin.  Just a small part.  The rest of you is burning up with the need for much, much more. 
“Make love to me,” you whisper.  His breath stutters.  “Please,” you say.
He nods frantically.  If you weren’t so hazy with want, it might have made you laugh.  As it is, you string your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss.  This one gets heated quickly, wet and sloppy and pressed messily to the corner of your mouths, your hands moving over each other, trying to find the hems of your shirts without breaking apart. 
It happens in a frenzy, but you somehow get down to just your underwear.  His boxers land on the lamp and the shirts could have flown out the window for all that you care.  He is laving kisses all over your body and you are so wound up that you get a little teary, arching under him and tugging on his hair. 
“Hyunjin, please,” you say, dragging your nails up his back.  “I need you.”
He looks up at you.  You smile and bite your lower lip.
“I need my husband,” you say.
You are pretty sure you can visibly see his brain short-circuiting.   The next second, he is fully above you, pulling your panties down your hips.  It stays hooked around one ankle but the thought of it leaves your mind quickly.   He slides his hands under your thighs and spreads you open, leaning down to kiss you as he finally eases inside you.   
You both look down at where he inside you.  It feels like your clit is jumping for attention, your whole body shaking when he gently rubs you there while sinking fully in. 
“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself once he fully inside you.  He closes his eyes and breathes a little harder.  “Don’t move,” he says.  He leans down so his chest is against yours, your faces close.  “If you do, this is gonna be over really quickly.”
“Really?” you say with a giggle, pleased he is as unravelled as you. 
He just nods, his eyes still closed.  You kiss his cheek and hold the back of his neck, stroking there lightly and giving him a minute. 
“Feels good,” you say, because it does, even just like this, pressed so tightly together, him so full and hard inside you. 
He just groans, dropping his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder.  You rake your fingers through the hair at his nape when he rocks a testing thrust into you.  You have only just adjusted when those hips starting rocking with fluid determination, rolling steady and deep.  He feels almost impossibly good inside you, driving you into the mattress again and again. 
“Oh my god,” you squeak, putting both arms around his neck and clinging tight.  “Hyunjin.”
He just makes noise, unintelligible sounds that make him sound crazy despite how deftly he is moving.  You feel a bit crazy yourself, blinking at him with your mouth open when he lifts his head.   He kisses you, swallowing up your gasping moans, and presses his forehead to yours.  For someone who claimed to be close, he lasts a long time at a steady pace, the subtle, corded muscles of his slender frame holding taut as he moves. 
“Touch yourself,” he says, and kisses you without waiting for an answer. 
You kiss him back, very messily at that, but you do what he said.  You lick your fingertips and slide that shaking hand between your bodies, getting yourself off just seconds before his hips get erratic and he has to pull out.  He strokes himself to completion just over you, coming on your thighs.  He manages to reserve his strength long enough to gather you in his arms and roll over.  He guides you to rest on top of him, your face in his sweaty neck and your rising-and-falling chest against his own. 
“Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” you mumble. 
He laughs, his hand flying to his face to cover his mouth while he giggles.   The ring catches your eye and you reach for that hand.   He gets quiet, watching you. 
You lace your fingers with his, looking at the ring then looking up at him. 
“We’re a little crazy if we stay like this,” you say. 
He leans in and kisses you for so long that you almost forget what you were saying.  You remember when he smiles down at you, when he squeezes your hand, when he leans in and says, “That’s okay.  I like a little crazy.” 
In agreement, you smile back. 
4K notes · View notes
iceunhie · 2 months
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[8:06 PM.]
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drabble inspired by the little crumb of balladeer we got from the arlecchino animated short because what the FUCK man he's literally my pookie the loml the /gunshot
a/n: can i please put him in my pocket i want to kiss him silly omg my babygirl
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"stop looking at me like that."
you don't. you just smile more instead, face practically hurting from your jubilee; and the reason, scaramouche's current attire.
he's dressed up, the rare sight of the oh-so prickly harbinger without his trusty hat, instead almost swallowed up by the fur of his coat's hood.
it's just so endearing that you can't help but kiss him senseless, earning an irritated (but not disagreeable) huff from him, before not-so-subtly pulling you closer to him by your waist when you mention how cold you're getting.
(yeah, he tolerates you—your ass; who was the clingy one here?)
the two of you look ridiculous covered by his gigantic coat, like two cats trying to seek warmth, but something tells you scaramouche doesn't mind at all.
though you're pretty sure you've burnt the sight deep into your retinas by now, you look at him even more just to be sure. "can i not admire my very, very handsome, and cute, and loveable, and amazing lover?"
he bristles up from the comment against your embrace, despite not being cold at all, a strange reaction given that the cold is biting at your face. his cheeks are red like the red around his eyes. "shut up. you should be ashamed of your shamelessness."
you press your mouth shut, or else he'd continue to (fruitlessly) berate you for your idiocy—you don't believe any of it, because this rare initiation of affection by your rarely affectionate harbinger is something reserved for your eyes only.
"don't want to though." you drawl, letting yourself relax against his firm, clumsy hold. scaramouche chases your warmth, withholds it within his grasp and never lets you go. "i should be proud of having such a wonderful lover, no? you look especially handsome today with that coat of yours."
"...i don't know why i put up with you." he snarks, but the gentle hold his hands take over your waist says otherwise.
not that you'd want to, of course. he was so ridiculously contradictory that you can't help but fall even harder for your cynically standoffish boyfriend.
"mhm. i love you too." he shuts his eyes when you fix at his hair to kiss his forehead, making sure to linger just a bit longer. you can hardly resist him, after all.
any normal person this close in the balladeer's line of contact, especially in such a vulnerable position would be annihilated immediately. luckily for you, your status as his one and only partner grants you benefits other people would never get to experience.
like now, as you're granted temporary immunity from the cold of his quarters near the zapolyarny palace, with your bodies sharing in each other's warmth, your boyfriend finding it completely normal and fine almost suffocating you with his tight hold over you in your shared embrace.
really, if he wanted to cuddle, he should've just asked. but since you know he wouldn't be caught dead whispering his desire for your attention out loud (you found that out early on when you woke up to him muttering murmurs of hushed, tender i love yous that still make your heart melt when you think about it when now), you suppose you can indulge him as you always do.
"i heard that today's the succession of the knave." you muse, to which he responds to with silence, to which you'd prefer his constant stream of insults towards the fatui's questionable title bestowments.
instead, all he gives you is a simple hum, opting to bury his face in your shoulder, and you can feel goosebumps raise from the feel of his hair and the fur of his coat. "it's just a ceremony with the jester and that irritating witch. and that captain."
you laugh. he really couldn't hold his tongue when signora was mentioned.
"well. why are you still here, then? should you get it over with before coming back?"
"..." he grumbles something about "being subjected to people he can't tolerate"—you're used to it by now, so you only lift your head and position yourself to put your chin above his head. "it'd be better if i'd stay with you beforehand. it'd save me the early irritation."
you laugh. when will he ever stop talking in riddles? before cradling his cheeks in your palms, pinching them just a bit, earning you a zap that's more warning than threatening. "sure, sure."
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end notes i went feral over this man thank u @morkanslily for listening to me scream about him for 15 mins straight in our dms
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
403 notes · View notes
ectologia · 10 months
Text
EXPRESS
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TOMURA SHIGARAKI + FEMALE READER
WARNING: DUBCON/NONCON, PROFANITY, DRUNK READER, PUSSY WEDGIE, EXHIBITIONISM, PUBLIC TRAIN MASTURBATION, FOOT HUMPING, HUMILIATION
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Your feet drag along the raised concrete, you can barely take a step without tipping head first into the nearest wall or inconveniently placed bin. It’s unfortunate nobody took it upon themselves to actually walk you home, you’re fucked out of your mind — who let you drink this much anyway?
The clusters of people gathered in the station only glare at your clumsy stumbling, shuffling and shifting away into themselves once they see your staggering form sway towards them.
Your requests to borrow somebody’s phone are denied or out-right ignored instantly, left clinging to the rim of the greasy bin for some kind of stability.
“Escuse m’.. Uhm.. ‘s this m’ train..”
Trimmed brows furrow at your mumbling, their eyes drifting around uncomfortably before you can finally muster up a proper sentence. “Uhm.. Yeah. That’s your train.” You nod along dumbly, following their finger as they point to the still train currently boarding.
You’re sure you’ve stepped over eight peoples toes already, but you don’t really care when all you’re focused on is not puking your guts out. A fist curls around one of the grab-handles for support, giggling and squealing like a child as the train bumps to a start. Your limp body is practically thrown onto the floor of the train, left to hug and lean on the vacant seats.
Your clouded eyes blink down at the pair of tattered, red sneakers crossed by your feet. A hoarse growl grabs your attention, tilting your chin up to squint your swivelling eyes at the hooded figure. His face is overcast with a dim shadow, what’s not concealed by his hoodie is curtained by thin, static tresses of alice blue.
The grim line that makes up his lips quirks upwards at your dopey expression and disheveled appearance. On instinct, you smile back, mistaking his fiendish smirk for something akin to friendliness you can’t help but shuffle closer on your bum, reaching your arms out to hug his leg.
Your fellow passengers grimace at the display, pivoting their heads to look out the window, clutching their belongings closer.
If you were any other dumb, drunk bitch, you’d be a pile of dust by now. But he’s had a long day, so he decides to indulge you’re intoxicated idiocy. He opens his knees, man-spreading across the fortunately empty seats either side of him, he doesn’t blame the rest of the pathetic lot on the train for not wanting to sit next to the creepy man dressed in all-black.
His foot shimmies itself in between your spread thighs, opting to have you sit on it for him. You cock your head once you feel the ridges of his shoe circle the chubby mound hidden in your panties.
“Hump it.” Shigaraki hunches, bending down to whisper into your ear.
You suck on your bottom lip, wiping your face into the denim of his jeans before propping your chin on-top of his knee, purring. Your stupid little brain clearly isn’t comprehending what he’s saying at the moment, so he helps you out. You let out a breathy giggle as the metal rings and harsh material of his sneakers grind beneath you, bumping into your hooded clit with every jerk.
You don’t understand what’s happening, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop when your hips begin to move on their own, wanting to bounce your horny cunny on some random man, in public no less.
A sizeable portion of the passengers shuffle out of the cart with disgusted frowns, while other on-lookers distract themselves with their phones or reading books, glancing at your perverted antics every so often.
Shigaraki smiles down at you, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips as he watches you hump his leg like a dog. He’s no longer moving his foot along with you, letting you fuck yourself on his dirty sneakers at your own pace. You’ve latched onto his leg now, cuddling into him while your tongue lolls out of your mouth, leaving a dark, wet patch of drool to seep onto his thigh while you’re sloppy, dribbling pussy leaves it’s own trail of fluid along his shoe.
Your ears perk at the sound of a shutter, looking up to see a shiny phone being shoved into your face. Your movements halt as you squint at the white light.
“Hey.” Shigaraki lifts his foot up, giving your puffy cunt a little kick. “Keep humping girlie.”
You’re bounced a few times before you’re able to get the ball rolling again. You continue to grind your clothed pussy down onto his shoe, shaking your ass as you desperately try to get to your orgasm.
He rasps a laugh at your fucked out expression, zooming in on your sloppy face before bending down to lift your dress up, getting a nice shot of you masturbating your horny pussy on his foot. Two fingers dip down to tug at the cotton of your panties, pulling the crotch nice and tight against your hard clit while your fat pussy lips spill out the sides. Your contorted slit is given a few harsh smacks before he sits back up.
He’s hard as a fucking rock but he doesn’t really feel like getting his massive cock out right now. Might scare the on-lookers. He lets you have your fun, cumming your little heart out while you fuck yourself on the floor. He takes a few purposeful glances at you before turning his attention back to his phone, thumbing the screen.
5 IMAGES
2 VIDEOS
TOMURA: train slut lmao
DABI: holy shit
DABI: look how wet her fucking pussy is
DABI: why’s she humping ur shit on the fucking train lmao
TOMURA: dirty twat
You’re propelled backwards onto the ground once the train stops, blinking up at Shigaraki’s tall stature as he stands, swiping at the linoleum floor with the slicked up rubber of his shoe.
You half expect him to bid you some kind of goodbye or atleast acknowledge you as he steps over your panting, crumpled form. You stare at him almost longingly as he makes his way to the exit, only pivoting his head to look back at you with a lecherous grin before dispersing into the crowd of people gathered by the doors.
Your face burns red and warm once you realise how many people on the train are staring at your wet little pussy.
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1K notes · View notes
arkhammaid · 3 months
Text
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.
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fandom. formula one
pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)
about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer
content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread
notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol
YOURUSERNAME
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liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others
yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️
mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3
⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!
⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)
user you're incredible, y/n
user oh my god these pictures are insane??
user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!
⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗
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YOURUSERNAME
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liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others
yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!
mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!
⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹
user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true
⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!
user marking the day on my calendar!
user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us
user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...
⤷ user who??
YOURUSERNAME
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others
yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸
mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!
⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗
user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post
user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!
user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD
user mother is mothering FR
user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??
⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????
⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..
⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭
oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏
⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!
⤷ user oh he's brave
⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀
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OSCARPIASTRI
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others
oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."
yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶
⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡
user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!
user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this
landonorris congrats mate!
logansargeant FINALLY!
⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...
⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough
user my new fav wag
⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid
user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!
⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud
user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID
⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH
⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???
⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true
⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)
⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)
user my god the delusion some people have 💀
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taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
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lemoncakz · 3 months
Text
LIST OF ALL SANSA OUTFITS MENTIONED IN ASOIAF BOOKS
THIS WILL ONLY INCLUDE OUTFITS SHE ACTUALLY WORN (not ones she had dreams of or ones she saw but never worn).
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AGOT—
outfit one:
“She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks.” - sansa i
“His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She” - ned iii
outfit two:
“Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.” - sansa ii
outfit three:
“Sansa had put on a lovely pale green damask gown and a look of remorse—“ - sansa iii
outfit four:
“It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again—“ - sansa iii
“She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey.” - sansa iii
outfit five:
“She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.” - sansa v
outfit six:
“She chose a simple dress of dark grey wool, plainly cut but richly embroidered around the collar and sleeves. Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she struggled with the silver fastenings without the benefit of servants.” - sansa iv
outfit seven:
“And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. Arya scowled, wondering what her sister was doing here, why she looked so happy.” - arya v
ACOK—
outfit eight:
“She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well.” - sansa i
outfit nine:
“One of the women went away and came back with a green wool shift that was almost her size. "It's not as pretty as your own things, but it will serve," she announced when she'd pulled it down over Sansa's head. "Your shoes weren't burned, so at least you won't need to go barefoot to the queen." - sansa iv
ASOS—
outfit ten:
“Cersei herself arrived with the seamstress, and watched as they dressed Sansa in her new clothes. The smallclothes were all silk, but the gown itself was ivory samite and cloth-of-silver, and lined with silvery satin. The points of the long dagged sleeves almost touched the ground when she lowered her arms. And it was a woman's gown, not a little girl's, there was no doubt of that. The bodice was slashed in front almost to her belly, the deep vee covered over with a panel of ornate Myrish lace in dove-grey. The skirts were long and full, the waist so tight that Sansa had to hold her breath as they laced her into it. They brought her new shoes as well, slippers of soft grey doeskin that hugged her feet like lovers. "You are very beautiful, my lady," the seamstress said when she was dressed. am, aren't I?" Sansa giggled, and spun, her skirts swirling around her. "Oh, I am." She could not wait for Willas to see her like this. He will love me, he will, he must . . . he will forget Winterfell when he sees me, I'll see that he does. Queen Cersei studied her critically. "A few gems, I think. The moonstones Joffrey gave her." - sansa iii
outfit eleven:
“She had no blacks, so she chose a dress of thick brown wool. The bodice was decorated with freshwater pearls, though. The cloak will cover them. The cloak was a deep green, with a large hood. She slipped the dress over her head, and donned the cloak, though she left the hood down for the moment. There were shoes as well, simple and sturdy, with flat heels and square toes.” - sansa v
outfit twelve:
“You said I must wear the hair net. The silver net with . . . what sort of stones are those?" — "Amethysts. Black amethysts from Asshai, my lady." - sansa v
Shae was helping Sansa with her hair when they entered the bedchamber. Joy and grief, he thought when he beheld them there together. Laughter and tears. Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight." - tyrion viii
AFOC—
outfit thirteen:
“This morning her eye was caught by a parti-colored gown of Tully red and blue, lined with vair. Gretchel helped her slide her arms into the belled sleeves and laced her back, then brushed and pinned her hair. Alayne had darkened it again last night before she went to bed.” - alayne
“Alayne looked down at her dress, the deep blue and rich dark red of Riverrun. "Is it too—“ - alayne i
outfit fourteen:
“The dress she picked was lambswool, dark brown and simply cut, with leaves and vines embroidered around the bodice, sleeves, and hem in golden thread. It was modest and becoming, though scarce richer than something a serving girl might wear. Petyr had given her all of Lady Lysa's jewels as well, and she tried on several necklaces, but they all seemed ostentatious. In the end she chose a simple velvet ribbon in autumn gold.” - alayne i
outfit fifteen:
“Alayne was already wearing woolen hose beneath her skirts, over a double layer of smallclothes. Now she donned a lambswool overtunic and a hooded fur cloak, fastening it with an enameled mockingbird that had been a gift from Petyr. There was a scarf as well, and a pair of leather gloves lined with fur to match her riding boots.” - alayne ii
outfit sixteen:
“It would be cold, she knew, though the Eyrie's towers encircled the garden and protected it from the worst of the mountain winds. She donned silken smallclothes and a linen shift, and over that a warm dress of blue lambswool. Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.” - alayne vii
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divider by @iwonbin
406 notes · View notes
haetrack · 4 months
Note
haechan is always so cute when he wears those thick-rimmed glasses that it kinda just makes me wanna ruin him. imagine him looking up at you with pleading eyes and those cute glasses tilted on his face while you ride him. it’d be even better if he’s all messy, tears falling freely and his brain all muddled because all he can think about is you and how badly he wants to cum.
i NEED to hear ur thoughts on this.. it’s been a wip in my drafts for like a week i’m going insane
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THIS BUT WITH NERD!HAECHAN. i need to sit down and take a breath... everyone stand back. part 2 part 3
-
“my pretty boy, what’s wrong?”
you know what’s wrong, you’re teasing him. you’re on his lap, slowly riding him as he tries to hold back cries and whimpers. his head is tilted back, his neck practically begging to be kissed. you lean forward, pressing soft, wet kisses all over. he gives up on holding back his sounds, whining out to you as he grips tightly on your hips.
“please,” he lets out a choked whimper, “just wanna cum, wan’ you to let me cum.”
he tilts forward, trying to kiss you. you move out of the way, laughing at how he tries to chase your lips. your hand grips his face, cooing at how he looks up at you with his pretty eyes. he looks dazed, already so fucked-out with just you on top of him. you haven’t even given him what he really wants, just grinding down your hips as he twitches inside of you.
“mm, it feels nice like this, though. you feel so good inside of me.”
he nods, eyes fluttering shut as you clench around him. he can’t beg, taking what you give him without complaining. he never thought this would happen, never thought you’d fuck him like this. all the nights he’s spent fisting his cock to the thought of you can’t compare to this, even if you’re practically ignoring him. he lets out a shaky breath, his blunt nails digging into the skin of your hips.
“won’t you tell me how bad you want this, my pretty baby?”
he fights off a moan, biting the inside of his cheek before he speaks, “want this so bad, thought of you so much and i just- just wanna cum.”
“aw,” you pout, “all you wanna do is cum? thought you wanted to hang out with me, too.”
he quickly shakes his head, sitting up a bit more straight, “n-no! i do! i like you so much, i want to be with you, want you to fuck me!”
a wry smile appears on your face, “that’s all i needed to hear, baby.”
you almost pull off of him before slamming your hips down. he lets out a loud cry, his hips chasing yours as he tries desperately not to cum so fast. he can’t let this end, can’t let the sight of you on top of him go. you look down at him with hooded eyes, your gaze and how good you feel against him making his face go hot.
his glasses become foggy, the sight of your teasing smile getting lost behind the fog. he whines out in embarrassment, the back of his hand reaching up to messily wipe away at the fog. he shoves his glasses a little too hard, too focused on how your warm walls suck him in deeply.
you laugh out at his crooked glasses, cooing as you fix them, “you’re so excited, so excited that you're drooling and being all clumsy.”
he nods, not trusting his shaky voice. it fails though, feeling your thumb press against his mouth, swiping at the drool that’s slipped out. he wasn’t even aware he was drooling, your body pressed against him being almost too much for him to handle. he can feel your nipples against his chest, his back arching to meet press harder against your chest.
your thumb traces his bottom lip, “suck.”
he listens, two of your fingers sliding into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around them. you’re all over him, he wants to stay like this forever. he might just be a little too obsessed with you like this, taking all that you want from him as he sits there, allowing you to do whatever.
your fingers slide out of his mouth, opting to trail under his shirt, moving to his chest. he lets out a loud whimper as he feels your wet fingers toy with his nipples. he can’t help how his hips stutter against you, the stimulation becoming too much. he can feel how tears begin to build in his eyes, pleasure consuming him.
“doesn’t this feel so nice?” you realize he’s not listening to you, watching him moan freely as his hands grip your thighs. you slow down your pace, grinding down on his cock as you try to ignore how his tip hits your sweet spot. you pinch his nipple, his chest arching into yours as he almost cums on the spot.
“pay attention to me,” you whine, “or else i’ll make myself cum on your cock and leave you here all by yourself.”
he lets out a shaky breath, “s-sorry. it just feels too good, you fuck me so good.” his eyes look up at you, losing focus as he sees the grin on your face. he has to tell himself to pay attention, tries to refocus as your hips begin to bounce against him again. the sound of skin against skin, the harsh sting of your nails digging into his skin making his cock twitch. he loves it all.
he realizes he’s crying when you press kisses against his cheeks, tongue swiping out to lick them up. you can feel his warm breath fan across your face, whispers of your name filling the little space between the both of you. when you lean back, his eyes bore into yours, “can i please cum? wanna fill you up…”
you smile, hand reaching up to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. you clean his glasses for him, wiping them against his shirt before placing them back on his nose. he thanks you, hips pushing inside of you, trying to remind you what he really wants. you move his hands back to your hips, feeling how he grips at the flesh, taking you all in.
“i’ll give my baby whatever he wants.”
you hear him whisper out a small thank you as you move faster, feeling how restless he’s become. he doesn’t care about how loud he’s being, doesn’t care about how much he might seem like a desperate loser right now. none of it matters when you’re here right now, your eyes watching his face, drinking up all his sounds.
when he realizes he’s close to cumming, he moves his hands up to your waist and pulls you close to him. his eyes look into yours before deeply kissing you. it’s messy, tongues moving against each other as drool slides down your chin. you can feel how hot his face is, imagining how his glasses are probably fogged up again.
you don’t care, feeling his hands reach for whatever he can grab as his hips rut into yours as he cums inside of you. spurts of cum shoot into you, his cock twitching with every movement you make. he’s moaning into your mouth, trying to fight off the overstimulation as you cum around his cock, fueled by his pretty moans and face.
he tries to push at your hips, but they move on their own as you ride him. his spent cock twitches inside of you, the pain bleeds into pleasure as you fuck yourself onto him. he can feel you slow down, pulling out of him. he realizes that it’s all over, suddenly wanting you close again. he moans out, “don’t want this to end, want you here, wan’ you to use me whenever. please, please don’t go.”
“why can’t we go for a round two?” you grin.
966 notes · View notes
toonheartz · 5 months
Text
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[ID: A reference image for a blue version of Mickey Mouse.
Their name is Mick, and they're wearing a black hoodie with the hood down, and a sleeveless denim jacket over it. The front of the jacket is covered in many pins, like the trans pride flag, the genderfluid flag, a black patch that says "the first pride was a riot", an ambiguous shape with a red crossed out symbol over it, a watermelon, the autism creature, and a small black patch that is cut off due to the angle, reading "eat the".
The back of the jacket has the Public Domain symbol, white a lower case C on a black background that is crossed out, with ears at the top to match Mick.
They are holding a dark blue offset cane, and have band aids on their leg, nose, and one finger.
Text around her says:
-any pronouns -soft spoken but stands up for their friends -fucks around and finds out -being of pure spite
Back patch should always be the public domain symbol with ears
Feel free to swap patches in the same theme or omit them for simplicity
Uses cane for balance, relieving pressure on his legs, and whacking people
Bandaids are optional and can be any color / placed anywhere (she's very clumsy)."
The very bottom of the page has the hashtag, "mickeysona".
End ID.]
lil something to celebrate the mouse entering the public domain :]
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