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#i feel a little differently abt them now but i still think they should be friends
neitherlightnordark · 2 years
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some epic crap goes down in castle town and queen casually offers a fistbump to seam the nearest person nearby. and seam stares unblinkingly at her fist for a few moments before headbutting it just like a cat. cue delight from both of them
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vaugarde · 2 months
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Me: man i need to catch up on my crossposting to other sites, let's post my pmd h/p pairs in order
Me immediately: .... i gotta rewrite nuri's deal
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i-luvsang · 16 days
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i hate being on the verge of tears in public !!! and it’s about fucking kpop i need to get a grip!!!!!!!$;73&38&2$.!’$/$3!/‘j$€{€!{£&jhhdjdhwijwgeieiehhejeiddggdneiwiwhuwjeieuebidnejskaowhhrbdieiruruidieieiehndozi&$:$£7:)3&k$$;$&jhdhiahJh
#only feeling a little bit upset tho!!!! RJUDJDK#HAHAHA I DONT EVEN CARE#I SHOULD HAVE DONE MORE RESEARCH BEFORE GETTING MY HOPES UP LIKE THIS#HONESTLY FUCK KQ SO MUCH#OBVIOUSLY THEY SUCK BC#DUH ALL KPOP COMPANIES DO#AND I HATE THE THINGS THEY DO MOST OF THE TIME#BUT GOD#IM STILK UPSET#why did i expect anything decent god#basically since last tour i’ve planned and saved up to get vip tix!#ofc to be closer to the stage since i was in nosebleeds last time#but also because vip had hi touch and maybe even meet and greet if those are different idk whatever#and i was so so set on getting hi touch next time they toured#and now their touring and there is no hi touch or meet and greet whatsoever#and the prices are like triple compared to last time#and presale is tomorrow and i don’t even know what to do for tickets anymore#obviously i’m so so excited and lucky and privileged to be able to see them at all#as long as presale doesn’t sell out before i get anything lol#but still#i’m just having trouble getting over this part of it right now :((#and every time i think about it too hard or look at them or listen to their music i get real close to crying!!#i’m just really disappointed and i’ll probably sob about it when i get home to start getting over it lmao#anyways i don’t have any feelings about it tho!!#again i recognize this is such a spoiled thing to complain about and im sorry if its annoying to read abt!!#i so get that#i used to think i’d never even get to go to concerts at all and ik some people can’t#some people can’t even buy albums and that kind of thing so i do apologize for complaining about having money basically#i just saved up for so long and got so excited :((
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exopelagic · 4 months
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I wiped out so hard tonight my KNEES
#I fell over. so many times. including two of the worst falls I’ve had in a WHILE#god the first one literally like minute and a half on the ice i lose a foot under me and do the splits. crash into the barriers#I am notably Not flexible I cannot do the splits. I don’t know how I kept skating afterwards#the worst fall I have ever had however was right at the end and the thing that made me get off#we were playing a thing and both me and this other guy we’re trying to catch this girl who turned out to be Also going very fast#three way collision all falling forwards on top of each other#we SLID there were BLADES BY MY HEAD im lucky im short im amazed nobody got actually hurt#except like. my knees which are now staging a coup I rlly should ice them but I don’t have ice and I just wanna sleep#but GOD tonight was a mixed bag#i have acquired the instagram and will probably get him on committee if he sends me the thing#also slowly thinking hrm yeah he’s probably straight#anyway good news: i think we’re pretty solidly friends now. bad news: prooobably regrettably heterosexual#idk straight guys shouldn’t be allowed to be cute and funny and good at skating it’s not fair#aaaanyway. it’s my own fault bc I meet most new people through hockey now and this sport is pretty notoriously not queer#it’s a little different here but the people who end up Good are largely not yknow. and I am unfortunately into guys who can skate#also they end up being the people I actually get to talk to with what I do. dumb as hell. they should invent gay hockey players#anyway my assessment is still vibes based there’s time for me to be proven wrong but we will see. it’d be funny if he was queer after this#will think abt texting him on a day that isn’t tomorrow bc tomorrow’s gonna be too much and I would like to have some time to chill sometime#anyway this is my periodic reminder to myself that I’m literally just Allowed to have feelings. fucked up that it’s true#but like it’s just. allowed. and it’s not even that I’m dumb or have bad taste or smth like that and over like what.#almost two years? there have been 5 guys total. mr prick who WAS queer unfortunately. and while the other four did turn out to be straight#that was due to 1. guy literally had rainbow fucking stick tape and Everyone thought he was gay. also I was just kinda fucking around there#2. talked to him like three times before asking him out. agrees to dinner bc he thinks it’s funny. 3. many signals bc bunch of queer friends#still unconfirmed but be does have a girlfriend ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 4. okay maybe I should know better by now but he’s cute okay I’m allowed to hope#it’s not even like I’ve DONE anything other than talk to him dude you’re fine you’re allowed to feel things#aaaanyway. bed now. eepy. will talk to him later. he complimented my hair okay I’m done now going to sleep#very sorry to anyone who reads these tags for just going on abt this guy but also no I’m not scroll down#luke.txt
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theghostofashton · 1 year
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#i just got my hair cut and my hair stylist is indian and we got to talking#and she was telling me how her daughter is being heavily bullied in school rn#how kids tease her bc she has hair on her face and her food smells and all this other stuff#and it made me so sad like this baby is 11 years old and this is the shit she's dealing with in 2023#nothing has changed from when i was in middle school like a decade ago how is that even real#and it makes me so annoyed to think abt some of these big indian influencers on twitter and ig who scoff at discussions abt this#'stop going on about being bullied for your smelly food you're not special it happened to all of us it's not trauma' and it's like.#that shit has always rubbed me so wrong bc it feels so needlessly dismissive#someone talking about the shit they faced in school being othered by white kids even if you don't find that serious or a big deal#it clearly hurt them and i don't see the point of dismissing that or how it helps anyone who's 'had it worse'#but idk like. i feel like the actual problem has not been addressed at all but now it's embarrassing to talk about it#like who is this helping brown kids are still hurting still being targeted still dealing with all of this#it hurts to be made to feel like you should be ashamed of your culture and where you come from#especially bc the white western world exotifies us and steals our cultural practices ato profit off of#like that's at an all time high rn but white kids are still bullying brown kids like this#it's just. it's so sad my heart hurts so bad for that little girl#i wish this world was different lol#delete later
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bunicate · 2 months
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍. lucifer x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ノ 18+
note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ノ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^
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lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.
how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures
it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.
he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.
it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.
a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.
granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.
with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.
he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.
his heart.
nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.
it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.
he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.
he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.
♡ . . ♡
it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.
chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.
he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.
he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.
“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.
“my credit card.”
maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.
there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.
the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.
you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.
“oh my,” asmo laughs.
belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.
mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.
tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.
you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.
but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.
they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.
“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.
your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.
you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.
“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.
“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.
he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”
mammon huffs.
“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”
admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.
make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.
when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.
anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.
after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.
you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.
there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.
you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.
dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.
you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.
you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.
you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.
maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.
you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.
lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.
you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.
the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.
“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”
you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.
one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.
you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.
struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.
“words, my little human.”
your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.
was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?
you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.
you mustered up all the courage you had left.
“yes, i would love to come by later.”
you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.
lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.
his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.
he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.
you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.
by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.
white with pastel pink trim.
your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.
when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.
you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.
it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.
quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.
you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.
it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.
you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.
you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.
“come in”
it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.
when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.
there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.
he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.
“you don’t have to knock, my love.”
he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.
you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.
“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”
there’s an amused huff.
his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.
“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.
you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.
his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.
“you washed your hair,” he observes.
you shake your head.
“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”
you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“
he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.
“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”
you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.
‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over
you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”
“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”
already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.
you slouch, "he totally hates me.”
you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.
he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”
you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.
“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”
there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.
“i never hated you,” he says.
you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,
its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.
things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.
“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”
the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.
“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”
he takes a deep inhale.
“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.
“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”
it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.
in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.
lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.
you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.
you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.
he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.
“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.
“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”
lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.
his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”
rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”
you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.
how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.
“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.
then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.
lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.
he pats his firm lap.
“come.”
you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you
you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.
“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”
the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.
"you kissed me,”
your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.
“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”
not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.
“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”
it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.
“it aches, doesn’t it?”
slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.
“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”
you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.
“ i wantmore daddy.”
you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.
“soon, my love.”
his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.
his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.
even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.
“i wish to take my time with you.”
his thumb trails over your nipple.
“you have no idea how much i missed you.”
his other fingers pull at the other nipple.
you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs
he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.
your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.
your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.
you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.
his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.
you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.
you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.
“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”
lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”
he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.
“is my good girl acting up?.”
“n-no, daddy, never.”
between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”
he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.
your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.
you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.
you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.
he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.
the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.
lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.
you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.
“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.
you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”
it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.
he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.
“what a pretty thing.”
he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.
“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.
“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”
you nod and feel happiness bloom.
“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.
at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.
you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.
“i know, i know,” he shushes.
you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.
he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.
he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.
he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.
within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.
“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”
the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body
he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.
just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.
he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.
just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.
you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.
lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.
"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.
lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.
“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”
you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.
he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.
with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.
“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”
you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.
“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.
“and you’re not even scared.”
“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”
like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.
“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”
drool collects on the side of your mouth.
“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”
he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”
the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.
“look at that precious pussy.”
he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.
lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.
he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.
you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.
you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.
still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt
“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”
your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.
your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.
“m right there, —!”
he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.
lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.
“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.
lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.
“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”
he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.
your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.
lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.
this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.
he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.
he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.
“perfect human,” he mumbles.
he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.
“my obedient little girl.”
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thatdeadaquarius · 11 months
Note
Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot
Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...
Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.
Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.
Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?
WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-
On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs
But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-
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Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader
Planet: Language Shenanigans
Orbit: Scenario
Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),
& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.
You were not a very confident writer.
This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.
You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.
things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.
If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…
So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,
You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.
Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.
Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.
You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world
After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)
Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???
you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-
and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-
His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,
“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”
…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),
and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all
you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!
Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.
You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???
You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???
(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)
You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:
you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-
you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-
oh my god-
Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-
You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.
You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.
“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”
Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)
and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!
Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-
But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??
Like he’s done nothing wrong???
You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!
He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.
Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.
“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”
….Motherfucker.
Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,
1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!
Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!
Safe Travels Anon,
That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]
Iced coffee?? :0
💀♒
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche
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loveydovey-leviathan · 6 months
Note
(hi im the one that asked abt teen!reader) thanks for ur answer !! :D i’m 17 myself so i didn’t intend to send in anyth w a younger reader haha ^^
my req was that i wanted to ask for hcs w the cast abt how they’d react to (teen) reader fawning over their crush (from the human world LOL), it’s platonic either way so i’m not sure if adding teen here makes a difference.. 🤔
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obey me x gn! teen! reader
a/n: -> written as platonic. had a lot of fun doing this request! i feel like the core difference when adding teen to the mix instead of an implied adult reader is that the bros would definitely be more protective. if mc/reader is an adult who has a crush on some random human, then they wouldn't be as scrutinizing of them.
cw: ooc. brothers only (minus satan). a lot of repeating words and sentences
.
𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑:
He jokes about seeing his little siblings as babies still, but there is definitely an element of truth to them.
When he first finds out about your little crush, he kind of just shrugs it off. It's normal for people to develop little crushes every now and again.
But he starts getting slightly irritated when he hears you fawning. Despite that, he makes sure to listen to you.
If he worries that it might be getting serious, he makes sure to give you a lecture about what you deserve talk to you.
He isn't going to stop you from having a crush but if he thinks they're not good for you, you'll be hearing from him a lot lol.
If they hurt you in some way, they will be facing... certain repercussions.
If you want to visit them, he is not the brother you should ask because he'll most likely say no unless it's a really dire emergency.
Overall, pretty chill considering how overprotective he is as long as he deems them worthy of someone he cares about.
𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍:
He's freaking out.
Definitely the brother who spoils and makes time to hang out with you the most, so when he hears about your crush, he becomes a goddamn investigator.
Keeps asking questions about what they like, what they do in their free time, how much you like them. Once he's finished with the interrogation, he side-eyes you like you just told him you loved rainbow pizza (he finds that shit disgusting).
He's so annoying about your crush, I'm sorry. Whenever you bring them up in a conversation, he makes sure to complain and roll his eyes.
If you want to visit them, he's your go-to big bro. It does not take a lot of convincing to make him teleport you to a hang-out.
But even if he is a little shit about it, he still makes sure to listen carefully when you talk about them and reminds you that they "better be treatin' you right".
𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍:
Him and Asmo are the best to talk to about your crush. They WILL listen no matter what.
As long as you listen about his crushes, he's more than happy to listen about yours.
If you're crush is someone you can hang out with and not like a celebrity crush, he lowkey gets kinda jealous 'cuz all of his crushes are either fictional or really popular, so he doesn't get to do that not like he would have the guts to anyway.
Will not put in the effort to help you in visiting them, but he will buy a bunch of equipment so you can talk to them through facetime and gaming (it comes with a pretty heavy price though).
𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒:
He's so happy that you have someone to like in that way <3
Your talks last for literal hours into the night. If you're into make-up, nail art or skin care, he'll definitely help you when the two of you gossip.
He has the juiciest details in his relationships and will tell you almost everything, but he won't push you to do the same.
As much as he likes to have fun, he probably gives the most solid advice and encourages you to go for it the most out of the rest of his brothers.
He won't help you visit the human world though. Too much work.
𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁:
Is the most nonchalant about the whole thing.
As long as you give him something to eat, he'll listen to you simp.
Isn't really interested in your crush but he makes note of the important things like how they treat you and what they like just in case he meets them.
If they hurt you, he won't do anything rash because he doesn't want to embarrass you, but he'll push you to try and let go.
If he thinks they're nice, he won't really mention asking them out officially and just reckons you'll do it in your own time.
Doesn't give much input and mostly quietly listens, other than a few nods, hums, burps and growls here and there.
He'll help you visit the human world if you give him the right food. If it's not good enough, he won't do much and deems it too much trouble. Lucifer might put him on dinner duty and force him to not "taste-test" the food.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑:
He is the worst listener of all. He does not care in the slightest.
Any time you rant to him about the person you like, he will fall asleep in 2 minutes flat.
The only time he'll put effort into anything that has to do with your crush is when they make you sad. He's lazy as shit but it's for you so he'll attempt to make your crush's life a very big minor inconvenience for a few days as revenge. He'll also try to convince you to join him btw.
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pablitogavii · 4 months
Note
Can you do one where reader is feeling a little insecure abt her body (even tho it's perfect and she's stunning) and she says she wants to get a boob job or a bbl and gavi gets super dom and he gets a Lil aggressive saying no you don't need it (bc she is perfect) I think it would be soo cutee
Thank uuu<33
Forbidden
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You just kept scrolling social media looking at all these models with their plum breasts and perfect butts. It was incredibly depressing to look in the mirror afterwards ... you looked like a kid compared to all of them.
"Are you insane!? Do you know what the recovery is for a bbl!?" your best friend told you one day when you mentioned in at college. She thought you were completely insane but she didn't have to deal with everyone commenting on her look on the internet. Not to mention she wasn't dating a celebrity all girls in Spain want.
"I'm home, mi amor!" Pablo walked in exhausted from the training noticing that you were way too focused on your phone to notice his arrival.
"Aii nena, what got all your attention huh?" he asked and you quickly turned off your phone where you were searching different plastic surgeries available nearby.
"Uff nenita, should I be worried???" he said and you shut him up with a kiss telling him not to be ridiculous since it was obvious that you were head over heels in love with him ...but how long will he want to be with you looking like this???
A few days later, Rapha walked to Pablo during training and pulled him to the side. He had an interesting conversation with his wife who told him about your questions.
"She asked her where to get work done???" Pablo made sure he understood and Rapha nodded explaining that it's often that women get insecure even though they look divine in the eyes of their men.
"Don't attack her Pablo, just try and get her to tell you herself" Rapha advised and Pablo followed his words hoping you would soon open up about this with him.
"Amor, venga aqui please?" he said sitting on the bed one evening while you were still finishing up your skincare. You walked to him and he pulled you on his lap with a kiss.
"Can you wear that lingerie I got you in Paris? I miss seeing you in it nena..." he said and you felt a lump in your throat ...you breasts barely fill the cups and despite Pablo saying he loved how it looked on you, it made you feel insecure.
"No ... amm... it's okay ...maybe another night Pablito" you tried avoiding the situation at all costs but he wouldn't let go keeping you on his lap.
"Que pasa contigo mi amor? Talk to me ..." he said and you looked anywhere but his eyes because you wouldn't lie but you can't say the truth either because it's embarrassing right now.
"Please, let me go ...I'm tired Pablo" you said but he wouldn't budge. Ugh sometimes you really hated when he was stubborn like this.
"You know I think your body is sexy ..." he said not able to keep it to himself anymore. He needed you to know how much he admires you from afar.
"Que?" you were a little taken back. Pablo was never much of talker, especially about intimacy, he preferred to show it all.
"Your breasts me vuelven loco ...they fit perfectly in my hands like they were made for me ...and your perky butt is perfect to be spanked ...and you know how much I enjoy doing that when you're mala ...hmmm but I know you secretly love when I squeeze in like this" he spoke slowly and seductively while squeezing your ass roughly making you fight an urge to moan.
"Pablito ..." you whisper and he kept his hands there for while until moving to hold your face and make you look in his eyes. He kissed you passionately and a little agressivly as well like he needed to to feel all his words in action.
"Listen to me, mi amor ...go put on that lingerie and let me enjoy what's mine" he said slowly releasing your hold and you jumped off quickly but still refusing to do what he said or talk about it.
When he saw you pull out your regular pajamas instead, he walked to the wardrobe and sat int he corner sofa.
"Don't be mala, nenita mia. Do what papi said!" he said sternly and you gulped looking at the lingerie in the box while signing.
"I want to get plastic surgery, Pablo!" you yelled it out and he sighed grabbing your hand rather roughly and pulling you to sit on his lap. You were once again trapped there and couldn't move.
"Now you listen to me, nena ...you are perfect and you don't need to get anything done! I don't want my things touched by anyone else or ruined with plastic surgery! I want you as you are ...perfect and mine" he spoke sternly and you held onto every word. There was no arguing with Pablo when he got dominant like this ...fuck you were also turned on so you decided to push your limits.
"But wouldn't you like if they were a little bigger Pablito???" you took his hand and placed it on your breast and he squeezed looking at your mouth longingly. You could feel underneath your butt that he was just as turned on as you.
"Dios ... they're perfect. Don't do it amor...por favor" he said helplessly at the end and you smiled kissing him passionately while he carried you to bed.
"Do you really like me like this Pablo?" you ask after a heated makeout session as both of you discarded your clothes on the floor enjoying every intimate moment.
"I don't only like you nena ...I love you just the way your are ...natural, divine and all mine. Si? Dime eso" he whispered into your ear kissing your weak spot leaving his famous marks all over your neck as you moaned.
"aaahh all yours Pablito ..." you half moaned and he smirked nodding his head while kissing you all over.
"Promise me you won't touch anything?" he said while resting between your thighs knowing how desperately you needed him.
"Porfavor ..." you begged hating being teased
"Promise me or I won't give it to you nena" he smirked knowing he is winning this battle.
"I promise Pablo! I won't do anything! Please give it to me!" you were yelling on top of your lungs and he was very proud of you in that moment. He will spend this night and the rest of his life showing you just how perfect you are for him ...just the way you are ❤️❤️❤️
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ghostlykeyes · 3 months
Note
dw abt crazy detailed posts, just have fun writing!! i like reading all of them, short or long :D besides goth gfs 🔛🔝
what abt kayn when his goth gf, who‘s usually confident abt her style, suddenly starts questioning herself bc of her parents? n she spiraling, barely participating in band stuff, and even wanting to avoid kayn bc of it all
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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HEARTSTEEL KAYN/ SELF-CONSCIOUS GOTH READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TW's
KAYN
At first, Kayn assumes you're just feeling a little off. Who doesn't, every now and then? He tries to help you cheer up the only way he knows how—bothering you. Kayn blows up your phone even more than normal, shows up at your house at all hours to take you out "because he's bored", and is practically glued to your skin whenever you're together. Maybe he's not the best at all that conversation stuff, but his antics will be enough to get you back to your old self...right?
When that doesn't work, Kayn's attitude takes a turn for the worse. He assumes that the reason you're withdrawing is because you're finally fed up with his shit and can't handle him anymore. It's a slap in the face, and he's more upset than he'd like to admit. After all, you were supposed to be different! He would never have let you in if he thought you'd just ditch him.
Kayn does a little spiraling of his own, which obviously makes the situation ten times worse. Surprisingly, he doesn't immediately lash out at you. He's too confused about his emotions to do much other than give you an uncharacteristic cold shoulder. But his bad attitude during rehearsals, general irritability, and the scowl that darkens his face whenever anyone drops your name clues his friends in that something definitely happened between you two.
Thank god for Ezreal, because he just gets it and takes it upon himself to talk some sense into Kayn. He approaches Kayn bringing his favorite energy drink, hoping to give his sulking friend a reality check without getting something thrown at his head. Ezreal listens as Kayn gripes that you must be sick of him or something, but it's whatever, he's totally fine—
"Kayn," Ezreal cuts him off, not bothering to hide his eyes rolling behind his candy-pink sunglasses. "Talk. to. them. You're crazy about each other and it honestly just sounds like they're going through something. You need to be there for them instead of doing this whole hot-and-cold asshole routine."
Kayn grudgingly considers Ezreal's words. Yeah, maybe you could be going through something. But why wouldn't you just talk to him, then? He's still not convinced, and he's still a bit pissy, and he's still dodging your phone calls.
But then you show up to his apartment wearing a beige t-shirt and Kayn knows something is up. The goth baddie he knows wouldn't be caught dead in neutral tones. He snags your hand in his, makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a can of your favorite drink (he writes it on the grocery list every week to make sure Yone keeps it in stock for you), and drags you into his room.
"Okay, my lil' batty," he sighs, sitting you down on his bed. He squishes your hand reassuringly. "No more acting weird, it stresses me the fuck out. What's up with you?"
Kayn's fuming when he finds out that your parents are putting you down. In his own strange, aggressive way, he gives you a pep-talk about not giving a fuck what anyone thinks. You're awesome and hot, why should you let anyone make you doubt that? He bumps your shoulder with his arm and gives you his signature cocky smirk. "I'm supposed to be the problem, remember? Don't ever let any-fuckin'-body convince you that you're less than perfect."
From then on it's Kayn's life mission to piss the hell out of your parents. Whenever he picks you up from your house, he shows up ten minutes early so he can smoke in the driveway and blast his music so loud it makes the front door rattle in place. He "sneaks in" at night, but always leaves the toilet seat up and muddy boot-prints in the hall so your parents know he doesn't give a shit about your curfew. And, if they have the nerve to confront him about it? Oh, boy... let's just say he has no issues making his opinions known, and he tells them exactly how fucking stupid it is of them to put you down.
Knowing that you're struggling with your confidence right now, Kayn makes extra effort to lift you up. He demands a selfie every day, and blasts you with a hundred drooling emojis and thirsty comments when you flash a peace sign in the mirror and show off your outfit. If he notices makeup or clothes you might like, he doesn't even stop to look at the price tag—straight into his bag it goes. Most of all, he tries to get you to stay with him as much as possible. If your parents are going to pressure you, well then, fuck your parents. You can sleepover at his place whenever you want. If it's privacy you want? He doesn't mind splurging on a studio apartment for you, just so you can have your own space away from your parents' negativity. (Just be warned—if he does pay for your apartment, he's gonna be crashing the place all the time. Make sure you've got his favorite snacks and an extra set of sweatpants on hand, because your couch is basically his second home.)
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hellooo!
i was just wondering maybe, if you could write about a drunk supervillain confessing everything abt his feelings for superhero to his secretary or henchman, not knowing that they are actually superhero going undercover and superhero’s just contemplating whether they should still go on with their plan to arrest and “betray him” or confess the truth?? cause they like him too?
I love your work so much! Your blog inspires me to start writing more!
Thank you! thank you!!🙏
hope u have a great day ahead!🫶
“Mmm…” The villain closed their eyes for a second and the hero already suspected some drunken tiredness to come over them, leaving the hero to drag them back to the car.
“I think that was quite a lot, no?” The hero grabbed the glass — still halfway filled with some vodka and cola mixture — and pulled it to their side of the table. Far away so the villain couldn’t reach it.
“God, they’re so annoying, y’know?” the villain looked at the hero again and some suspicious part of their brain wondered if the villain was toying with them.
What if they had figured out that the hero wasn’t actually their secretary? What if this was their way of saying “gotcha” and shoot them in the head?
“Totally, but you’ve been saying that quite a lot this evening. You can’t let your enemy get to you like that,” the hero said. It was funny that those words actually came out of their mouth. They were the one who was obsessed enough to go undercover, after all.
“Yeahhh, I know…” The villain drew some invisible lines into the table with their index finger.
The bar was pretty full for a work day but the hero was thankful for it. That way, no one was paying any attention to them.
The villain smiled softly. “I talk a lot about them, right?”
Although the hero wasn’t drunk, their face felt quite hot.
“Uhm, I suppose.” Once again, the villain smiled dreamily and the hero didn’t exactly know where this was going. They had a feeling but…
“One time…they were nice to me one time.” The villain paused. “I was injured and the hero helped me.”
“That is very nice,” the hero agreed. They remembered the moment a little too well. The villain had been in a pretty bad shape. Buried under a lot of rubble, several broken bones, many injured muscles…The hero had never even thought of another outcome. All they had wanted was the villain’s survival.
“The way they look at me sometimes…I don’t…I can’t deal with it.” The villain leaned back, searched for their drink, got distracted and tapped with their fingers on the table again. They were funny when they were drunk and still, very different from that rather silent leader which they were at work.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” the villain answered, grinning. “I used to hate them. Like, really hate them. I think I was scared of them.”
“Scared? You? You’re so much stronger than them.” That was the truth. And the hero was certain this was some foul game at play.
“They’re smarter than me.”
“I don’t think so,” the hero answered.
“They intimidated me because they challenged me.” The villain bit their lip. “They made me think about my own goals and what I want to be.”
“They challenged your ideals,” the hero concluded. But the villain only shrugged.
“I wanted to get rid of them because of that but they’re very sweet, I fear.” They looked at the hero and their next smile looked rather sad. “But no one could ever love a person like me, isn’t that so? The blood on my hands will never dry.”
Oh god, the hero didn’t know how to answer. Their face was burning because, in fact, they hadn’t been quite sure about their own feelings. Was it a crush? Simple interest? A work thing?
The hero didn’t know what they were feeling and they didn’t know how to keep their cover now.
“Uhm…” They swallowed. “I think there are a lot of things about you which are admirable.”
“I don’t think I’m allowed to date my enemy.” Oh. “And I don’t think I would ask them. Too shy.”
The hero stared at them.
They needed another plan.
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chococolte · 2 years
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Heyyy can you do SAGAU!Telling them that their your favorite with kaeya, gorou, and venti? Also I LOVEEE YOUR WRITINGGGG! YOU GOT ME GIGGLING AND RUNNING LAPSS.
word count. 2.1k
୨୧ — ꒰cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. I LIVE. also, thank you!! srry abt the quality i am Sick and i have been working on this for days and i just want to Post It Already
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kaeya
Kaeya is used to the cold of loneliness.
He does not expect anything from you, nothing more than he should. He is acutely aware of his place, the empty spot by your feet, choked next to all of the others who worship you. That is where he resolves himself to live. That is where he expects himself to sit.
With that alone, he would've been content. Always desperate for more, hanging off of your every word, but never daring to take more than allotted.
Kaeya was fine to serve as your acolyte, patiently waiting for your next kindness or glance, no matter how much he would've liked to be more— but you seem to enjoy letting him live his little fantasy of being special to you. You like to see him fester in it. Kaeya doesn't care if his perception of you is altered, twisted like hot air in a torrid desert— he trusts himself over the word of god, no matter how hallowed your voice or how much he wishes to believe it.
"My favorite," you say. You say it with such ease, the words rolling off your tongue as if they're not blessings in verbal form. As if they are not words he has imagined you saying over and over, countless times to lull himself to sleep. Your favorite, he's imagined himself as being; only whenever he can't unlodge the thought from his mind, for the moments where he can't stomach to think of anything other than you.
Kaeya thought it would stay as a mere daydream. He would've preferred it that way. It would've made it easier to hate you.
He could've lied to himself before. He could've said that he meant nothing to you; merely a tool at your disposal. That of all his love and worship was worthless, that he should stop caring so much for a being who never cared for him back.
"My favorite," you say. You say it only once, though Kaeya wishes you would say it again.
Your voice was soft. Comforting. Kaeya could almost believe you were being genuine. His heart still sings regardless, humming in his chest, banging against his ribcage as if it does not know the ugly truth of the world. People lie. And the gods are cruel, and to imagine you as anything different means to be a fool.
Still, Kaeya lingers. He feels the frost slowly thaw, warm blood beginning to run through his fingers. He feels you, as all that you are, welcome him. Kaeya knows he should not believe any of it, that he should turn away now while he still has the time to do so, but he can't bring himself to look away from you.
It's you, after all. The world itself wouldn't dare to stand beside you. Kaeya is no better, bruised and unwanted— but you want him. You look at him with fondness, with favor he knows he does not deserve. With love that should not be his.
Still, Kaeya hungers. He takes your words and he runs, desperate to keep them to himself. He is yours, no one else's; he is your favorite, not anyone else. He may not deserve it— he doesn't, not when he has hated you for so long— but he wants it to be his alone. He wants to be yours alone.
He wants to sit by your feet, to caress the flesh of your legs. He alone wants to be beside you, to call you by your sacred name.
"My favorite," you say. Does that mean he can be yours? Does that mean he can finally rest in your embrace, safe and loved by you and no other?
Can he finally worship you the way he has always wanted— his mouth on your skin, his piety unfurling like flowers from his lips? Pure and untainted, he molds against you as if his entire body was meant to be a perfect fit. Your every touch remains even after you've left, burning his skin and setting his nerves aflame.
Kaeya replays your words one more time. Just once, he tells himself, though he knows he'll do it again. He can't forget the way you looked, the curve of your smile, and the twinkle in your eyes. You in every way. The you he would kill to breathe the same air as. The you he would die to know if he exists within your heart.
You'll tell him again, won't you?
gorou
Gorou doesn't think he's deserving.
He knows he isn't. Gorou is many things, but worthy of your affection is not one of them. He is not the strongest of your acolytes, neither is he the brightest— Gorou is merely himself, and he is keenly aware of how little meaning that holds.
Gorou partook in daydreams and sinful reveries, but was self-aware enough to realize they would never come true. He is beneath you, barely deserving to exist in the same world as you, and he has done nothing to deserve to walk beside you. He knows where he stands, and he knows that any step towards you is imaginary.
You are his god, and Gorou is fine to exist as he always has. Only ever dreaming of what it would be like to be yours.
How nice your touch would feel. How lovely your voice would sound so close. How amazing it would be if he could feel your hands in his hair, or your fingers running through the fur of his tail. He imagines what it would be like to be your pet often enough the thought feels like home.
You feel like home. Warm, safe. Yet, he can't reach you. He can't even brush his fingers against your form.
You are entirely unreachable, no matter how much he tires his arms trying to grab you. You sit at the top of heaven, beyond everything that he is. Gorou can only taste you in his thoughts, where even then the shame eats at him. If you knew how he’s tarnished your pure form, tainting you with his impure thoughts— would you finally do away with him? Though, in all his desperation, maybe he really wouldn’t mind. He’d get to see you.
"You're my favorite," you say. You reach over and scratch his scalp, fingers scraping against the base of his ears. Gorou represses a shiver, barely able to stand. His knees tremble lightly, despite how hard he tries to keep himself calm.
Your voice is so soft, so lovely it makes his heart ache. And from this distance, he knows he couldn't have misheard you— he's your favorite, and his lungs are almost entirely bereft of air.
Gorou wants to hear you say it again. He wants to ask, but the words die on his tongue, useless. He can't speak, his throat choked by thoughts and mantras of how wonderful you are. Just you, you, and you— you are everything, and he is nothing. But he is something to you— you have made him into something.
Something that you like. Something that you prefer, that you favor over the rest. Gorou isn't useless anymore, isn't worthless; he can't be, when his existence is liked by you. He serves a purpose now. Your purpose. And that purpose is perfect.
If he does well, maybe you'll say it again. If he proves himself worthy of having your gaze, maybe you'll touch him again. He can't stop thinking of the curve of your palm, the warmth from your pulse. His ears twitch, following the lingering echo of your voice in the air. Desperate to hear you again, even in such a small, pitiful way.
If you saw how pathetic he is, hugging his pillow pretending it's you— would you say it again? He hopes you would.
venti
The wind carries your words far before they reach him.
The air is heavy with languor, and the pleasant scent of flowers and honeysuckle. Your breath is soft, almost soundless, but Venti hears the roll of your tongue, the curl of your lips; he hears your words, beautiful as they are, and struggles to keep himself composed.
Venti thinks your voice is the most stunning in the world. Mellifluous and euphonious; every utterance a perfect cadence, every stutter a beauteous lyric. You could insult him, and he would take pleasure in hearing you speak. Your praise is like a siren’s song, drawing him in— Venti does nothing as his senses are overwhelmed by you, only spreading his arms wider so you may reach all of him.
And to be your favorite is the highest praise there is.
You say it with a small smile on your face. You say it unaware of the effect it has on him, of the way your words grip and pull him tight. Venti can't breathe, but he enjoys the feeling of suffocating— he delights in it. It's because of you, after all; and he delights in anything you could ever give to him.
Your breath is a holy gale. Your speech is to be delivered on the swiftest winds. Your laughter echoes throughout all of Teyvat, light and pleasant. Your voice is like an angelic choir singing, though he loathes to associate you with anything lesser. It is a sound incomparable to anything he knows; it is uniquely yours, entirely you. It belongs to nothing immortal or mortal, to no god or man. He could listen to you endlessly, an eternity spent writing poems and ballads about the way you talk.
Venti likes it most when you compliment him. When you tell him how pretty he is, or how talented he is musically. His skill has been tempered and honed by centuries of practice, and little compliments shouldn’t fluster him as easily anymore— but yours do.
"You're my favorite," you say, but Venti makes sure no one but him hears.
He wants to scream and for the world to know it. He wants to send your words so far that every life will have heard it. He wants to beg on bruised knees and plead with a bloodied throat for you to say it again, and again, and one more time after that— but he stops himself with all of the patience learned from being the anemo archon, however little it may be. Venti keeps himself silent, barely contained.
You wouldn’t want the others to know. You’d prefer it if it stayed between you, a secret kept between sealed lips. You wouldn’t want the others to fight, kind as you are. Venti says nothing of his own opinion on the matter, that he’d rather they all maim each other until they’re bloodied spots on the ground.
He wants everyone to know. He wants them to look, to gawk, and weep their mindless tears and apologies for not being good enough to deserve your attention. He wants to revel in their jealousy and bitter resentment; he wants nothing more than to bask in your light, love, and affection. He wants the others to know their place. Beneath him, beneath you.
But a small part of Venti still hungers to keep it to himself. Your words are just his to own, to stay close to his chest and treasure. He wants to adore them in private, to worship your speech alone. He could write ballads about your utterance until his fingertips bleed raw. His fingers have long ached from how often he strums his lyre, his knuckles an unsightly purple. You don’t want that, though. Venti thinks that’s a shame. How else is he supposed to show you how much he worships you?
Especially if he’s your favorite. He has to be worthy to hold onto that title. Worthy enough there’s no risk of him ever losing it.
He is constant, wild, and zealous. He is like a storm, forever churning and spinning. Venti doesn’t dare to hide behind masks of guile, or to act as if he isn’t desperate for a single glance in his direction. He would never lie to you. He is exactly as he appears— an acolyte who has run out of reasons to live long ago, but found them spirited deep within you.
Venti has always cared little for propriety, but he grows only bolder with your admission. He hooks your arms together, interlocking your fingers with eyes of fervor. He hungers for your attention and he does so ostensibly. But there’s a certain desperation in his actions, a plea for you to keep your eyes turned to him.
You don't mind his greed, do you? Let him find life within your voice.
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inkdemonapologist · 2 months
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nobody asked but since I've seen a lil chatter on the DCTL Graphic Novel on tumblr too, here's the thread I posted on twitter, speaking as someone who's done a little freelance work as a comic artist, under the jump:
Main thought about the DCTL graphic novel preview is: yeah, I've made designs like that when I was being paid by the page and expected to just throw in extra design work for free and I have a deadline and no time to scour the source material or really put my heart into the design No shade to the artist; every complaint I have about the pages we've seen is that this looks like someone who was just working (quickly) from a script. The artist is likely not a Big Fan, so they only know the info and descriptions they're given. And the artist's portfolio shows they're capable of the kind of designs and dynamics this comic needed. its possible they phoned it in for no reason, but feels more likely to be "not enough time/not paid enough/not given enough info to give it that level of care." Which, don't get me wrong; an important level of craftsmanship and care is missing and im not gonna blame the artist but i AM gonna be a hater abt it lmao It's not just about designs; the convo with Joey is another good example. It's a literal illustration of the things Joey said and did in that scene, but it's missing the point -- that scene is our introduction to the way Joey throws Buddy off-balance. That energy is missing. And that's the sort of thing that needs the script to convey this purpose well to the artist, that needs the artist to have time & freedom to invest in portraying it, that needs time & investment & knowledge to ask for adjustments at early stages and get the page right one more note: begging batim fans 2 think abt the plot of DCTL and realise why "maybe we will not make the creepy guy who dies at the end a black man in this" is perhaps a reasonable choice. like im a fan of poc norman headcanons too but pls recognise this would be a tough call!! anyway, genuinely cannot wait to see how off sammy is gonna be in this lmao. will he be a mid non-design like norman or will he be conventionally handsome or will he get graphic novel dave miller vibes b/c hes an antagonist? will we get the fabled black hair sammy??? i cant wait
TL;DR I strongly suspect this was an issue of not enough time/not enough money. That design looks nothing like the description of Norman, right? Like, there's hundreds of different AU designs of all shapes, colours and sizes that you could create that would still look like Norman Polk, but somehow they managed to make a character that isnt ANY of them, lmao??? So... how could that happen, unless nobody gave the artist a description of Norman? Or if they did, how did that design make it past anyone else, unless there wasn't time for revisions or a system worked out for revisions, unless whoever was managing the comic project thought it was fine if the designs didn't fit with the descriptions in the book? If everyone is doing their job, then the artist is given the information they need without having to go do unpaid YA novel research before they can start drawing. That's why you have a writer adapting it!!
("they should hire fans, a fan would've done a better job" OK BUT THATS B/C FANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE EXPLOITED AND DO EXTRA UNPAID WORK B/C THEY CARE!! THATS NOT A SOLUTION!!!! THATS A JOEY DREW STRAT!!!!!!!)
Anyway I could yell about this for 15 years so I'm going to shush for now BUT I JUST FEEL VERY STRONGLY ABOUT IT LMAO.
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kodydrs · 1 year
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- make ‘em jealous
a/n : WHERE MY BLUE LOCK BABES AT?? This is a one-shot I wrote abt 2 years ago and it was originally on Wattpad but got removed 😭 I do hope it gets love on here
warnings : cheating!reader, cheating!Rin, aged up!Rin, oral (m. receiving), p in v, riding, cheating, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, not proofread, I’m bad at tagging
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Y/n & Rin had dated for nearly a year when she caught him. 1 week off their 1st anniversary. She just wouldn't have expected such a thing to happen with Rin.
'Rin?' Y/n called from the door. After dating for 11 months, Y/n had learned it was usually OK to let herself in. Rin's parents had even gone through the extra work to get her an extra key. 'Rin?'
She took off her shoes and left them at the door, walking onto the carpet in her socks. The house was silent, except for the Itoshi family cat which brushed against her legs.
'Hello, hun.' Y/n cooed, picking up the black feline. 'Where's daddy at?' The cat meowed quietly and headbutted her chin. 'Well, that isn't very helpful.'
Y/n laughed, kissing the cat's head before putting it back down on the carpet. The cat meowed again and walked down the hall towards Rin's room. Y/n smiled, following the animal. As she got closer to Rin's room, she could hear the quiet shuffling of fabric and that confused her. 'What's he doing?' Without a sound, she peered through the crack of his door, her heart dropping and blood running cold. F/n? F/n with Rin? Y/n grabbed her mouth to prevent noise from coming out and she watched silently. Watched as her best friend made out with her boyfriend.
She felt sick. It wasn't until she saw F/n straddle his waist that she finally looked away.
'Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck is going on?' She shook her head as if it would erase what she saw. As if it was just something she was imagining.
'Fuck… Rin~' Y/n's whole body froze hearing her friend moan.
'That dumb bastard.' Y/n looked up, seeing Sae standing at the bottom of the stairs. 'I told him she had to keep her out today.'
'Y-You knew?' Y/n whispered. Sae nodded.
'She's been coming around for a few weeks now. Usually when you're away for school trips or he's at some soccer event.'
'So this isn't the first time?'
Sae shook his head. 'Nope.'
Y/n sworn you could've seen her heart shatter. But she stood up, wiped her face, and with every intention of interrupting them, she turned to their door. She didn't make it because Sae grabbed her waist and pushed her against the wall on the other side of the hall.
'S-Sae? What are you doing?' She still whispered, but a hint of urgency in her tone.
'Don't let them know you're here. Let Rin do his thing. It's his problem.'
'So you think I should just let them have sex as if I'm not even here?! That sounds like a mighty fine idea.'
Sae leaned down till she could feel his breath on her ear. 'Make him jealous.' A shiver spiked down her neck.
'W-what do you mean?' She stuttered.
'You know what I mean.' He whispered, gently kissing her neck. She sighed, her back arching so her ass pressed against his crotch. The soft groan that came from his mouth was ecstasy. 'Let's go upstairs.'
Y/n nodded, following him quietly. Sae's room was different from Rin's, although it had the same design. While Rin's room was overloaded with soccer, Sae had minimalistic posters of artists and movies. Y/n noticed 2 posters in particular that she liked the most. It was a poster of the band, TV Girl, and one of Howl’s Moving Castle. Sae wasn't exactly the type of person you'd expect to have photos of bands and films, but it was a nice touch.
'Do you like their music?' Sae asked after noticing her staring at the poster a little too long. She nodded with a smile.
'They’re an amazing band. And Howl is a beautiful boy.' She smiled. Something about this room made her forget about her problems downstairs.
'Do you like beautiful boys, Y/n?' Sae leaned against his door frame while Y/n was on the bed. She blushed pink but nodded.
'I think most people are pretty in their own way, but there's a few that cut above the rest. just happens to be one of them.'
'Mhmm. Is Rin a pretty boy?'
She hesitated, thinking about what she saw downstairs. 'No. He was, but people lose their beauty if they lose their respect.'
Sae nodded, walking over to Y/n and caging her between his arms. 'So am I a pretty boy?'
She didn't have time to answer before he pressed his lips on her. She reciprocated his movements, both falling into sync. Y/n gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. She could've sworn Sae smiled.
They parted eventually and Y/n looked up at the red-head. 'Do you want me to blow you?' Sae's expression remained calm and he shrugged.
'If you want to.'
Y/n nodded, switching positions with Sae so he was sitting on the bed and she was in front of him. She patiently sat in her knees with her hands gently resting on her lap while Sae undid his jeans.
Y/n swallowed hard when his erection sprung out. He was longer than Rin, but they were about the same in girth.
'It may seem embarrassing to admit, but I do live with Rin, so I know I'm bigger.' Sae said, the usual softness to his voice as if he were talking about the weather.
She nodded, a sign she was agreeing with him. She shuffled forwards and placed her hands on either side of his pelvis before sucking on his tip. Sae watched, admiring her when she started taking more of him.
Y/n hollowed out her cheeks and relaxed her throat each time she took more of Sae's member into her mouth. She could already tell it would hurt her gag reflex, but she could ignore that for now. All she could focus on was Sae.
He moved a hand down to the side of her head and tucked the fly-aways behind her ear. He left his hand there, not forcing her to take more, but to steady her.
Her nose skimmed his crotch and she started moving back and forth. Sae sighed at the feeling of his cock moving down her throat, hot and wet.
Y/n wasn't your typical off the streets whore. She knew how to give a proper blow job. Sometimes she gets creative, going in different rhythms or humming at exactly the right time to send the vibration. She was changing up this time. Instead of constantly taking as much of him as she could, she would slowly reduce how much you had until she would just be lapping at the time before thrusting herself back down and starting again. This was driving Sae mad.
'Y/n…' He groaned. 'You're such a pretty girl.' She hummed, the vibrations making him flinch. 'Such a pretty girl.'
He gently pulled her off, leaning down to her level. 'Will you be a good girl as well and ride me?'
She stared at him, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum, but nodded. Sae moved back so he was leaning against the headboard and watched Y/n remove her sweats.
She stood at the end of the bed for a minute before moving next to Sae and straddling his waist. She clenched her lower areas when his cock hit her ass. She carefully lifted herself above him, then slowly let herself down. Her pupils dilated and she bit her lip to suppress a moan.
'You alright?' Sae asked, cupping her face. She nodded.
'It just hurts a little.' She winced. 'So just give me a minute.' Sae was patient. He didn't make her move or do anything she didn't want to. He just waited, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.
'You're doing amazing, Y/n.' He whispered. She smiled and began moving. A jolt sent her whole body in shock when she went down.
'It's too fucking big.'
Sae threaded their hands together, continuing to kiss her hand while she squeezed his.
'Fuck~' She sighed, playing with her shirt hem with her free hand. 'It's hot.'
Sae picked up what she'd put down and shimmied his hands up her side. Her shirt followed, the male tossing it somewhere in the room.
'You look pretty hot like this, Y/n.'
'Mhm?' She hummed. Her stomach felt so tight. She looked down at Sae. 'Take your shirt off. It's unfair that I'm here ass-naked while you still have your clothes on.'
Sae laughed. It was a rare sight to see either of the Itoshi brothers laughing, but it was even rarer for Y/n to see Sae laugh. He obliged, pulling off his shirt and throwing it with hers. She took a minute to admire his anatomy before moaning loudly when he hit her sweet spot.
'Hmm? There, is it?' He grunted, gripping her waist. Y/n wasn't prepared when Sae thrust up into her, making her moan loudly. She was quick to cover her mouth, hoping that anyone else in the house hadn't heard.
'Are you embarrassed, Y/n?' Sae smirked. 'Are you embarrassed that Rin might hear you doing it up here with me?'
She shook her head quickly. 'N-No. He deserves it if he hears me.' Sae chuckled softly. He held her waist tighter and flipped them so he was on top of her.
'You won't mind me making you scream then, will you?' She gulped.
Sae Itoshi was known for his flawless appearance and cold personality. Y/n had realized after not long being around him that his personality was more of a lukewarm temperature. But seeing and hearing him now. The words that came from his mouth. Suddenly he was as hot as the sun.
Y/n leaned up, kissing him slowly while he thrust into her cunt. Rough moans and grunts mixed in their mouths, both feeling their climaxes building. She'd long forgotten about her boyfriend fucking her bestfriend downstairs. Now, her attention was only on the male inside her.
Sae had caged her in, one hand on the headboard while the other was beside her head. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist to help him focus on that one spot, and her nails scratched at his back, leaving marks that'd be red for the next few days.
Her back arched off the bed as she whimpered into his mouth. She pulled away. 'Fuck. Fuck. Sae. I'm gonna cum.' She moaned.
'Just a little longer, OK?' He asked, stroking the side of her face. She nodded shakily.
'P-Please don't cum inside.' Y/n begged. He nodded.
'Of course not.' She smiled lowly, resting her head on the pillow and focusing on delaying her climax.
She gathered handfuls of the sheets beneath her, her whole body being shaken from the inside when she came. She felt Sae pull out and cum on her stomach a few seconds after. Her vision went white momentarily, but when she came to, she stared up at him with hooded-eyes. He kissed her slow and gentle before getting up and retrieving a warm cloth to clean her up.
'Hey, Sae.' Y/n whispered, lying on the bed.
'Hmm?'
'You're a really pretty boy.'
He scoffed, helping her sit up and get dressed.
'Whatever you say, Y/n.'
A few hours later, Y/n and Sae sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while talking about whatever when Rin and F/n came out laughing.
'Hey, Rin.' Y/n welcomed joyfully. Both froze, staring at her with shock. Rin looked from her to Sae and back to her.
'Y-Y/n. I thought you had classes today?' He stuttered.
'I did. But I finished and I've been here for about 3 hours.' She smiled behind him at her best friend before taking a sip from her mug.
'Oh. Ok.' Rin couldn't come up with a lie. He's put himself into a hole. 'F/n was just helping me with something.'
'Mhm.' Y/n nodded, placing her cup on the table. 'Was that something your raging boner?'
Both flushed red. Y/n just smiled. 'I'm breaking up with you, Rin.'
'What?! You can't do that!'
'I can do whatever I want.'
'Y/n.' F/n finally spoke. 'Please don't break up with him. I don't know what I was thinking. You guys are way too perfect for each other to break up.'
Y/n stood up and walked over to her friend, taking her hands. 'It's OK, F/n. You can have him. At the end of the day, I got the better Itoshi.' She winked and moved back to her seat.
Both Rin and F/n stood speechless, Rin staring at Sae. Y/n finished her cup and murmured, asking Sae if he was done with his. He nodded and she took both cups over and rinsed them.
'Anyways, I think that's me for the day. I'll let you 2 sort it out yourselves. Oh, and F/n?'
'Y-Yes.'
'Don't ever talk to me again ♡.'
Y/n left the house and walked down their street before turning back to see Sae standing on his balcony.
'See ya next time, Pretty Boi.' She shouted.
'It's bold of you to assume there'll be a next time.' Sae grinned. Y/n shrugged. She was his problem now.
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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sorry i’m on a roll tonight but everyone always talks abt jason’s scars but like. everyone in the batfam must have them, i mean they fight criminals who have knives and guns and brass knuckles there’s no way they’ve never gotten hit,,, so being dick’s lover and him being used to being sultry and stuff but one day when he comes out of the shower you pull him to the bed and he’s like “eheh you couldn’t wait to have me?” but his words die in his throat when you gently lay him down and start kissing every little scar on his body, and he gets really whiny and surprisingly subby when you start kissing an old stab wound on his inner thigh *insert elmo fire gif here*
oh oh i’m soft. i’m crying just a little. my baby boy 🥺🥺
**
You still manage to surprise him.
He thinks it should be statistically impossible, thinks that you shouldn’t be able to sneak up on him the way that you do. The quiet, emotional way you do when you see something that makes your heart ache just a little.
He’s trained since he was a child to prevent things like this, he knows body language, he knows speech patterns, he knows how to disarm someone in three seconds flat.
He knows you.
He also knows what it’s like to be wounded. To be bleeding out and hurting and utterly alone. He’s painfully aware that a serrated blade will tear and shred his skin and leave a horrible, jagged scar. He knows exit wounds are messier than entry wounds and that being shot burns. He knows that his body is a patchwork quilt of freshly healed skin and old, aching wounds.
He knows that you love him.
But of all the things he knows, all the things he expects. He not once considers the possibility of an ambush. Especially from you.
**
“Cmere.” You beckon when he comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped low on his hips. His first thought is lustful, scandalous. You want him. You always want him. He’s more than happy to indulge you. But the set of your mouth is off, you’re looking at him like you see him. All of him. “Dick, c’mere. Let me love on you.”
He trips forwards, just slightly touching up against uncoordinated. The smile on your face is soft, patient, wonderful. He feels his heart stutter for just a moment, a brief skip. On patrol the skip of his heart usually means ‘oh shit i’m about to die’. But with you it’s different, with you it’s ‘you make me clumsy, you make me vulnerable’.
You guide him backwards, push him down onto the bed. There’s a thousand different thoughts tangled in a knot and he’s half stuck between excitement and apprehension. You’ve shoved him onto the bed before, usually before you sink your soft, wet cunt around his cock. But you don’t have that look on your face this time.
So the apprehension sweeps in.
His brain does it on autopilot–comes up with contingencies. He’s got every single weakness of yours catalogued. He knows exactly where to put pressure to get you to give. He knows that your left arm is weaker than your right. He knows he could open his mouth right now and say something that would have you in tears.
Part of him hates himself for it.
But it’s kept him alive.
Your mouth presses against his shoulder, just below his collarbone. There’s a mess of scar tissue under your lips. It’s a messy circle. A gunshot wound. 9mm. There’s no exit wound and he remembers digging into the open wound looking for the bullet. He remembers the blinding pain and laughing hysterically at the fact he could hardly hold the tweezers with the amount of blood coating his hand. But you lick over the sensitive skin and Dick shudders, the memory fracturing apart.
“What are you doing?” He finally asks, voice thicker than he wants it to be.
Your attention flickers to him for just a moment, “My pretty boy. Jus’ want to show you how much I love you. How much I love all of you.”
There’s a lump in his throat and he can’t swallow it back.
You shuffle down his body. Lick over the long, thin line of scar tissue over his ribs. Pocket knife. He was still Robin when he got that one. He recalls the flash of pain as it sliced him open. The adrenaline hid it well amongst the fight but when it was over it stung, nerves flaring awake. Seven stitches in total. A neat little row.
Nimble fingers tug at the towel around his waist and Dick feels his breath hitch. You pull it open and suck a mark into his hip. The dark blemish settles besides a smattering of bruises from his most recent patrol and he doesn’t expect to feel overwhelming relief at the feel of your mouth on his skin.
But he does.
You tap at his thigh, gesture for him to settle back and hook it open so you can kiss at the thick, jagged scar running across his inner thigh. The skin is raised and pink. Still new. Still healing. The edges are surrounded by tiny needle marks. Stitches.
His entire body flinches and he finds himself almost trying to run from the feel of your lips on that horribly sensitive patch of skin. Serrated blade. Agonising pain. He remembers the rip and pull of his flesh as the knife went in. Remembers almost screaming from the pain of it.
Your hot, wet tongue drags along the length of the scar and Dick feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
“Are you okay, baby?” You ask between gentle kisses, lavishing affection on something that was once so painful. It still hurts sometimes. Especially on cold nights. Even more when he does certain manoeuvres in training, in combat. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Your thumb smooths along the scar and then your mouth chases it.   
“Don’t stop.” He gasps. “Please don’t stop.”
He feels you kiss the inside of his thigh so softly, so gently and he’s knocked completely off kilter by how much he likes having you dote on him the way you are. You kiss his damaged skin like you’re trying to remove the pain and Dick wants to cry, wants to hide himself inside you because if anyone in this world would keep him safe, he'd trust it to be you.
“You’re so beautiful.” You whisper, and glance up to catch his watery gaze. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. My brave boy.”
**
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hrts4hanniehae · 5 months
Text
Take a Chance with Me || fourteen
*mostly written parts
remember to comment and reblog
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it was quite obvious that yn and seungcheol would be invited to numerous interviews. and of course, they went to most of them.
"so who liked who first?"
"we first met when we were trainees because yn's younger brother and childhood friend were friends with our maknae, Dino. yn was a trainee under a different company and... was his name Jae? I'm sorry but my memory of him is very fuzzy. I believe Jae was a trainee with us until he dropped out due to health issues."
"so we knew each other from the start of our trainee days and I debuted the same year as them, so we were quite close, I would say. But I think I fell first."
"no, i definitely did."
the interviewer sat up in her seat. "really? why is that so?"
seungcheol grasped yn's hand. "it was in 2014 when we were meeting up together with the other 95 liners in Seventeen. yn was wearing this winter coat that made her so pretty. I fell instantly. you can ask jeonghan, he'd be more than happy to embarrass me."
this was news to yn, who couldn't help but smile. "so you did fall first."
"so when did you fall for him, yn-sshi."
"when i first saw him perform during one of his dance practices. his presence was so strong and i don't know... he was so attractive."
seungcheol flushed red.
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yn was at svt's dorm, celebrating her rekindled relationship with seungcheol.
"finally you both are together again. after 3 long years."
"thanks to hoshi actually. he sped the process up by a lot."
"noona, we should do a weverse live right now."
"yea, we should."
their weverse live hit record-high views. the app almost crashed. everyone was so curious to see domestic, drunk yncheol.
"hi guys. yn is super drunk and is having a mini concert with hoshi." - mingyu
"they've sung "just do it" 15 times. someone please stop them." - scoups
"wait they're singing yn's album songs now." - joshua
"oh my god i don't want to hear a drunk version of Oceans and Engines..." - jun
"stop hoshi before he ruins Take a Chance with Me" - minghao
"no wait i want to hear this." - jeonghan
"now hoshi is crying..." - wonwoo
"jihoon-ahhhhhhhhh" - hoshi
"no hoshi..." - woozi
"why is yn still singing... now she's crying... scoups!" - seungkwan
"on it." - scoups
"i'm so sorry for this me-"
"HORANGHAE." - hoshi
"..." - svt
"mianhae" - minghao
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"everything okay, yn?"
"yea. i finally feel like... i'm home."
he pulled her in for a kiss. "i'm glad you feel this way. maybe now you'll continue writing those good love songs about me?"
she laughed. "we'll see, cheol. but thank you for... taking a chance with me."
now he laughed. "was that supposed to be a joke?"
"no, i meant it. I love you."
"i love you too."
-fin-
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a/n THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING "TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME" AHHHH!!! my first ever smau and kinda long fic. omfg thank you for all the love on this. i'm so so grateful. stay tuned for chpt fifteen, the epilogue. i have something special planned. special thank you to those who always commented/reblogged my posts. yall have a special place in my heart!!!!
note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.
summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired
inspired by: take a chance with me
pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader
genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance
warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea
started: 13.12.23
taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)
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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester
@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupskook
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