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#the way he's struck speechless
ghostlyarchaeologist · 10 months
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Eliot receiving his Hanzo sword.
Leverage S03E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.
Bonus:
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hannieehaee · 19 days
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18+ / mdi
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content: bf!jungkook, mentions of him accidentally elbowing you, afab reader, smut, way too much kissing, this is just pwp, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1403
a/n: i know i mostly write svt but i decided to start writing for jungkook too!! :D i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
"ow!"
"oh, fuck, baby, i'm sorry! where did i hit you?", jungkook frantically turned around upon realizing his elbow had made contact with something – with that something being you.
"it's fine, kook. i should've announced my presence," you said as you rubbed the boob that had just been struck by his elbow.
it was quite early in the morning, and you'd found your boyfriend not in bed when you woke up. getting up, you sleepily made your way to your kitchen only to find your equally sleepy boyfriend's back facing you as he worked the oven.
"sorry, baby. i just woke up, i wasnt expecting you here so early- give me just one second," he turned around to turn off the oven he had just been using, turning back around to tend to you afterwards.
"lemme see where i hit you," his eyes showed genuine remorse at the minimal accident.
"it's was just my boob, baby, it's fine."
"oh," he halted for a moment, "let me see?", his eyes went down to where your hand was currently rubbing at your breast, having had the hardest part of his elbow unfortunately bump harshly against your nipple.
"jungkook-"
"let me kiss it better?", he asked, tone now a bit heavier.
"'kiss it'?"
he nodded silently, hands already reaching to the ends of your shirt, awaiting for permission to lift it up. when you didn't stop him, simply too freshly awake and dumbfounded to process what he was doing, he continued, allowing his hands to push up your shirt and leave it lying above your breasts.
your nipples were hard due to the impact, chest heaving a bit at jungkook's sudden shift in behavior.
a hand went up to your breast, inspecting it before the thumb gently passed over your nipple.
"here? is there where it hurts, baby?", he asked with a slightly patronizing tone in his voice.
it always rendered you speechless when he did this, when the mood struck and he decided to speak to you so dumbly, as if you needed a step by step through these interactions. it served specially well in the mornings, when you weren't fully yourself yet.
you nodded, eyes staring right at his with your mouth slightly agape.
"oh, pretty. look, it's all hard and swollen. poor baby ... let me kiss it? hmm? gonna kiss it all better ..." he murmured as his head dipped, tongue landing on your nipple.
he hmph'd, groaning against your breast while his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. he laved over your sensitive tit, becoming more agitated by the second as he continued to make out with your breast. being so early, you were extra sensitive, letting out breathy moans at how expertly he suckled at your tit.
taking turns, he lavished your tits with saliva, leaving a few marks here and there as he continued to make love to your breasts. his moans of appreciation were the loudest thing in the room. on occasion, he would nuzzle against your tits, using his hands to press them together against his face before bringing them back to your waist.
he finally pulled away, one last nibble pulling at your nipple before disconnecting completely, chuckling at the whine you let out at the slight pain from it.
"is that better?", he whispered, lips now far too close to your own.
looking up at him, mind clouded, you nodded numbly, eyes straying down to his lips. he chuckled at your clear want, dipping down to finally kiss you, landing a wet and languid kiss against your lips.
"pretty ... so fucking pretty in the mornings," he murmured, repositioning you so he could crowd you against the counter, lifting you slightly so you could sit on it, his body now between your legs.
"kookie ..." you sighed when his lips trailed down your throat, hands making their way to your shirt, which he was yet to fully remove, throwing it off before doing the same to his own.
your hands instantly when to feel up and down his toned torso, making him sigh against your ear as his own hands felt you up.
eventually his hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling them as close to the edge of the counter in order to make them meet his own. his own hips began to cant against your own, holding you in place so he could grind against you to his heart's contentment.
the only separation between you were his boxers and your panties, making the grind of his cock against your cunt feel extra delicious.
"so fucking needy for me," he groaned before making his way back to your lips, hips sensually seeking out your own.
your nails dug into his shoulders at the friction, making you open your mouth in a gasp. jungkook took free advantage of this, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue while his hips took everything they wanted from your own.
but then he got frustrated, as he usually did.
dry humping was one of jungkook's favorite activities. he'd engage with it in the most innocent of scenarios. all he needed was you and a surface and he'd find himself licking into your mouth as he dragged his cock against your cunt. however, this would only ever last for so long. he'd always grow far too hungry for you to not fuck you.
he halted his movements for a few seconds in favor of lowering his boxers, also aiding you in lifting your hips to lower your own panties. it was all hasty in nature, with jungkook barely even preparing you with his fingers for a few moments before slipping in, groaning at the way you enveloped him so easily.
jungkook loved you in the mornings. having wanted to check if he had hurt you this morning had just been the perfect excuse to initiate morning sex with you. he had woken up too early, opting to make breakfast for you rather than wake up in your arms and have his way with you. this, however, gave him the perfect compromise.
"m-more," you whined into his neck, kissing at it as his hips began to take a rhythm.
"so fucking pretty and soft in the mornings, angel," he mumbled, hips taking on a deep yet sensual grind against you.
he never liked to go fast and hard in the mornings, always opting to be as soft as he could. he adored these domestic moments, knowing that no one could ever recreate how naturally you'd seek pleasure from each other.
however, it did come with a downside.
as sensitive as you were in the mornings, so was jungkook.
there was something about having just woken up, still smelling like the warmth between the sheets and in a completely natural state. all his senses were heightened, and his love for you was always through the roof at this time.
he whined and huffed against your neck, eyes rolling back slightly at how you'd tighten around him. your own pretty moans of his name did not help matters at all, making his hips begin rutting uncontrollably against your own as his orgasm approached.
"gonna cum for me, pretty?"
"m-mhm!," you whined, lips making their way to his.
god, how he loved kissing you as he came. it was the most intimate thing he could ever do, swallowing your cries of his name into his lips as you trembled against him, arms shaky as they attempted to use him as support while your orgasm took over.
"k-kookie! fuck ... cum? cum with me? please, need- shit. please ..."
and how could he not cum immediately when you begged so prettily for him? when you were the softest thing he had ever held in his arms? when you had been so pliant and obedient under his fake vice to kiss your injury better?
he came with a groan against your lips, moaning your name in breathy sighs as you milked him dry, taking all of him like you always did.
you heaved against each other for some moments as you caught your breaths, you groaning slightly at the mess left behind when jungkook finally pulled out of you.
"'kiss it better,' huh?" you eyed him in mock judgment.
"you feel better, don't you?", he snorted, doing a messy job of cleaning you up with some kitchen towels.
"shut up and finish making breakfast."
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ozzgin · 2 months
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Yandere! Demon King Headcanons
You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!
I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance
[Main Story]
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The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”
The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.
Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.
Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.
Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.
The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.
You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.
"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.
You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.
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onlyswan · 10 months
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summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.
> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k
> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)
> in which masterlist!
note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲
“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”
you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.
it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.
it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.
however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.
“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.
when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.
“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”
with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.
“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.
“oh, shit.”
in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.
oh, he’s in so much trouble.
he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”
the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.
“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.
“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”
he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.
“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”
with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.
“and we can still do this, remember?”
the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.
“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.
jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.
“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”
and just like that, you’re a little more awake.
“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”
hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.
“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.
“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.
“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.
and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.
“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”
that’s him. that could only be him.
jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.
“really?”
“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”
“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”
you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”
“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.
you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“have you cleaned it?”
“not yet.”
“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”
exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”
“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”
he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.
“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
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❄️ Kinkmas — 09. Xenophilia ❄️
Neteyam x female human reader x Lo‘ak
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⋆。° ✮ Minors Dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: alien biology, oral (m receiving), threesome (mmf), dirty talk, praise, bioluminescence cum, a/b/o elements
⋆。° ✮ Art credit: @sleepthight____ on twitter
⋆。° ✮ Translations: sevin = pretty, paskalin = honey
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It’s curiosity that makes you do it, but you don’t even dare to complain about the turn of events when two sets of loincloths are discarded to somewhere on the ground and you’re suddenly face to face with the two strangest, yet most prettiest cocks you’ve ever seen.
Their tails rhythmically sway behind their backs, excited and eager, and they stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your heart begins to race.
Alien, that’s what they look like to you.
You’ve seen the human equivalent a dozen times before, in reality, in porn, in biology books. You know what they’re supposed to look like for your kind. But this is all different.
To be fair, Lo’ak’s cock looks a lot more human like than you thought. It’s still blue, obviously, and there’s also his enormous size, big enough to be compared to your forearm, but it looks relatively close to a human dick. His tanhì seem to sparkle in the rhythm of his throbbing heartbeat, the mushroom-like tip leaking pre-cum from it’s slit that almost looks… shimmery.
And then there’s this part of him that’s not so human like. A knot on the base of his shaft. It’s not that big, not yet, but that thing is supposed to… it’s supposed to swell the closer he is to his climax, and then he can push it inside his preferred mate. The primary reason for this is to ensure impregnation. You swallow thickly at the thought of that thing going inside you– going inside anywhere. Would it even fit? You doubt it.
What takes you by surprise is that unlike Lo’ak, Neteyam’s cock seems to come out of a slit. You guess the reason for this must’ve been in their mixed DNA, because just like some of their other features, Lo‘ak comes more like his father who was once human himself, while Neteyam comes after his mother, gifting him with the more Na‘vi-like features.
In comparison to size, he‘s not so different from Lo‘ak. Maybe a little girthier, and his knot seems to be more prominent too, but that’s it.
What’s interesting however is, that his shaft is glistening slightly in what you assume must be some natural lubricant from it’s protecting sheath, and you fight the urge to touch it just yet. Not before you’re done with your admiration.
Luckily, both men seem to be pretty content with just standing there, grinning from ear to ear as they watch you squirm and shuffle on your knees while you take in every detail of their foreign biology. It’s for scientific reasons after all. At least that’s what you had told them, but neither of you was so sure about this now.
"What’s the matter, hm? Nervous?", Lo‘ak is the first to break the silence, cocking his head in a teasing way as he glances down at you.
You know he’s referring to the way you’re suddenly struck speechless, when you can normally barely keep your mouth shut. The deep blush spreading over your cheeks must’ve been a pretty clear sign to them that your thoughts had wandered far off the original purpose of this whole situation.
"No", you breathe out, and mentally curse the way your voice comes out quiet and a little shaky.
"Don’t be", Neteyam smiles warmly. "You can touch us if you want."
You can’t help the way your mouth begins to salivate as you watch Lo‘ak stroke his hard cock right in front of your face, the tip leaking more pre-cum with every tug and pull. "Go on, baby. Don’t be shy", Lo‘ak urges, licking his lips, and Neteyam gives you a small, reassuring nod.
You shuffle a little closer on your knees and then take them both into your trembling hands. Neteyam sucks in a breath at the sensation of your soft hands on his cock and Lo‘ak let’s out a small groan. They’re both very warm to the touch, skin taunt and firm. You squeeze Lo‘ak’s cock with your left hand and stroke Neteyam‘s with your right.
They twitch and throb in your palms, both of them too big for you to close your hands entirely around their girth. The realization alone makes you feel uneasy, and you slowly begin to feel heat pooling from your core and smearing between your thighs. Experimentally, you switch between squeezing and stroking, letting your hands glide over their knots, thumbs swiping over their leaking slits.
Heat floods your cheeks when Neteyam suddenly cups your face in one hand and steps just a little closer. You exchange a glance, like a silent confirmation of consent, before he nudges the head of his cock against your plump lips, smearing his pre over them with relish.
"Say you want it, c‘mon", Neteyam mumbles lowly, too lost in the sight of your lips on his cock to even look you in the eyes, "Say you want to suck our cocks. We know you do."
Lo‘ak’s cock throbbed in sympathy at his words, his hands closing tight around your own as he slowly rocked his hips forward to thrust into your palm. You almost didn’t hear the muttered Na‘vi curses over the rapid sound of your own breathing.
You then press a small kiss to his tip and Neteyam can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.
Both of them were watching you with half lidded eyes, as you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock, making him groan, enjoying the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.
The taste of his pre-cum is strangely sweet, you think to yourself. Not at all like human seed tastes.
You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock, before you take him into his mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. His hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a moan. "Fuuck, there you go", he breathed heavily, "That’s it, sevin. Good girl, keep going just like that."
Meanwhile, Lo’ak tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole lab to hear, while you stroke his cock in a similar pace as you sucked off his brother. Spitting onto his shaft, it lubes the way for you to stroke him more fluidly, faster, and he thrusts forward into your palm.
Neteyam was so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, his size was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick, while your soft hands stroked every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.
"Eywa, if her mouth is already this tight…", Neteyam mumbled between low groans, his hand cradling the back of your head and gently pushing you up and down his length and you willingly let him guide you.
"I can’t wait to feel that sweet human pussy around me", Lo‘ak chimed in, winking at you when you glanced in his direction. "But first I want those pretty lips on me. C‘mon baby, my turn."
Just as your gagging had grown a little louder, you’re suddenly pulled off of his cock. Both of them admire the strings of glistening saliva connecting Neteyams tip to your swollen lips, while you gasp for air, panting. Your hands however keep pumping both of their cocks, as you turn your attention to Lo‘ak.
"Open wide for me", he says with a grin and you don’t hesitate to do as your told. The younger Sully brother moans obscenely as he slides into your mouth, hips already twitching with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat.
You look up at him, the tears that had been picking at the corner of your eyes finally tickle down your cheeks, more sounds of little gags filling their ears as he hits the back of your throat, not even halfway in.
"You look so pretty like that, making all these cute noises for us", Neteyam muses and Lo‘ak hums in agreement. "Go on, paskalin. Why don’t you make us cum on that pretty face, hm? I promise you‘ll like it", he says, which makes a knowing grin appear on Lo‘aks face. They share a look between each other just as you switch back to sucking on Neteyam‘s cock, and your brows furrow in curiosity.
"Oh, you’ll definitely want to see that", Lo‘ak chuckles, both of them grinning at you in a way that makes a tingle of excitement run up your spine. "Human girls look prettiest when they’re covered in na‘vi cum…"
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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months
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platonic yandere! Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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Warnings: aged-up! reader [in early to late twenties], ooc, overprotective! Alastor, possessive behavior, implied yandere!vox, stalking, knowledge based on the six episodes of the 2024 season.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!
Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @isuckatwritingsobenice for providing criticism and feedback.
As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.
For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)
Tomorrow was your turn for Show and Tell. 
According to Charlie’s lesson plan, it is an activity where your interests and stories are shared with a group of people. But you did not know what you could share with everyone. 
They know why you are here at the hotel. 
They know you were ex-military. 
They know you have prosthetic arms after you lost them in the war. 
They know you were an Auto Memory Doll for the Lieutenant’s company.
They know many things about you…what is else there to talk about? You had thought long and hard but nothing came to mind. Your Remington typewriter is only used for work. The only ones who would even be remotely interested in its history were Alastor and Sir Pentious. Including your nightgown and tool kit to fix your hands, there is nothing else in the hotel that is under your possession except for a crimson parasol that the Alastor had gifted to you.
That was when you remembered something. A difficult man who lived by a lake. A man who struggled to write his next play until he asked you to take the pale blue parasol and….
You could show them that. However, there is no lake around the Pride Ring. The closest thing to an ocean was in another ring. Nor is there one here at the hotel because it stood on top of a hill. Yet…there is someone who is capable of conjuring something like that with a snap of his fingers. The Radio Demon.
Would he actually hear your request or simply say ‘no’ with a boisterous laugh was another question entirely. Your redemption was on the line here….at this point….you might have to make a deal with him after all. So you sought him out in his radio station in the hotel’s west wing. You had heard from Niffty that he was planning a special show this evening to celebrate his return. When you knocked on the door, he called to see who is the delightful visitor who has come to see him when he is quite busy at the moment. 
“It’s me, sir.” You said. “Permission to enter?” You asked. Some habits were difficult to forget, especially when in the presence of a cannibal gentleman, as Vaggie has referred to Alastor. In the nicest way possible. 
You only heard silence on the other side of the door. Assuming that he was not in the mood or struck speechless at the absurdity of your idea, you spoke again. “My apologies, Alastor. I didn't mean to disturb you. I will see you at dinner.”
 You took a step away from the door, bowing your head. “I wish you good luck with your radio broadcast.” You turned around, grabbing the wrought-iron railing leading back down to the main floor with your gloved hand. You only took one step when the door leading to Alastor’s office swung open. You looked over your shoulder and saw Alastor leaning out of the doorway, wearing a wide grin as his bright red irises locked onto your gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” You began. “I’ll ask Charlie if I could do something else for my Show and Tell presentation -”
“Nonsense, my dear!” He exclaimed. You watched his lanky form dissipate into wispy darkness, slithering across the floor and beneath your feet. Your mouth opened to interject that it was truly all right, but your body was not listening. Instead of leaving the Radio Demon to his work, you walked back up the stairs and straight into Alastor’s office. But you were not in control of your body. It had moved on its own. 
 The door closed behind you with a loud click, and you were seated on a couch adjacent to what appeared to be the soundboard. A shadow crawling out from the sleek wooden floor and up the golden bear claw of the furniture, twisting and writhing until he appeared by your side. “I didn’t know you could do that.” You said finally.
“Oh, I can do many things, darling~!” He said, leaning forward. “And do not fret over my listeners, they will get their daily dose of perfection as promised~! Now then, how can I help you?” 
“I have an idea.” You replied. You then went on to explain what you wanted to do…but you were not sure if it could be pulled off.  You clasped your gloved hands together, squeezing them in your lap. “Please be honest…is it possible for you to do this for me? I am willing to make a deal with you. Not for my soul because it is not worth anything to someone of your caliber as an overlord…but I am willing to do a favor for you.” 
He stared at you for a long moment, still smiling as he tilted his head to one side. A high-pitched static noise bounced off of the walls till silence filled the room again. 
“In the first place my dear there is no such thing as an unworthy soul, though I could name a few individuals. Certainly not yours. However, I will agree that granting this favor for your soul is asking for too much for something too little. Instead, let’s do a simple deal. Quid pro quo, if you will~! I do this for you, and you will help me as I host my radio show. Bringing me food and water, screening phone calls, the basics. Your choice. And~! Before we agree to this, I must be the one to see this little presentation first. Not even Charlie will see it. It will ruin the fun~!” He held out his hand, green smoke twirling around his gloved fingers. “Do we have a deal?”
You glanced down at his hand, then back at his face before raising your own to your mouth. Tugging the leather glove off your teeth, it fell into your lap. You extended your hand, the dim lights bouncing off of your adamantine skeletal fingers as you gently placed them into his open palm. You looked back at him. “Is this acceptable?” You asked. “Our hands being like this instead of a handshake. I do not want to push any more boundaries or waste your time further.” 
Alastor looked down at your hands with a stupefied expression before he hummed, taking your mechanical wrist, holding your hand up and then….folding your hand over his own.
 “If you want to make this deal official, both parties must shake hands on it. Finger tapping doesn’t count~!” 
You watched the same green smoke from earlier envelop your intertwined hands, shifting into tiny skulls that circled around and around before disappearing entirely. The deal is made. You thought. Then you wondered, why is he still holding your hand? 
You looked at him. “Sir?”
“Hm? Oh, my apologies~!” He quickly withdrew his hand, standing up from the couch. You followed suit, confused a little at his sudden actions. 
“Now, let’s get started~!” He snapped his fingers again, and the vintage wallpaper of the radio station disappeared, replaced with the open, crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Looking around, you saw that the two of you were standing outside of the hotel. “So…you want to put the ‘lake’ here,” He said, pointing at the open space of the hill going down towards the city. “And you will be using a parasol while…performing this stunt?” 
“Yes.” You said. Then you realized that you did not have your own on hand. “It will…make it difficult to perform without it.”  And it was how Olive made it home after she had slayed the monster. To return to her father, whom she loved the most in the whole world.
“Fair enough.” Alastor said. “An act can’t be completed without the necessary props~!” 
You speculated that him snapping his fingers is either something he enjoyed immensely or it was just how he conjured his powers that were not affiliated with his manipulation of the shadows. You have come to this conclusion after careful observation of him, and your parasol quite literally popped out of thin air and in your hands suddenly. 
“Thank you.” You opened the parasol carefully, raising it over your head and now focused entirely on the space where the lake is supposed to be. Alastor hummed, and with the fourth snap of fingers, a foggy and inky body of water appeared several feet from both of you. Then he disappeared, his shadows slithering to the other side. He was ready. But were you? Yes. Yes, you were.
You stared at the water for a moment before taking three steps back, digging the heel of your boots into the ground. You bent your knees.
Then you took off.
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Alastor thought you were a sweet little darling. Despite being insightful and a quick learner, however, you were oblivious to the signs of someone who takes an interest in you romantically. But he does not dare think that sending random gifts to the hotel, stalking someone through the cameras around the city whenever you leave the hotel for work or to run errands for Charlie, or even trying to ‘coincidentally’ mention your name and antagonize him on his broadcast  qualifies. Alastor knows that Vox is doing it. He knows why, because the clout video podcast is bold to assume that you are his lover, the Radio Demon’s lover. 
Ha! No. Not at all. You were simply someone who entertained him and needed protection from licentious fellows who would not hesitate to take advantage of your innocence and ensnare you in a contract. That will not happen. So unless Vox wants to make an appearance on his broadcast as a new voice for all of Hell to hear, the fucking egoistical piece of shit had better keep his distance. 
But imagine his surprise when you approached him for help. You, the person who would rather try to figure everything out on your own! Why, he was delighted~! 
Granted it was for one of Charlie’s silly exercises, yet how could he not take advantage of this opportunity to get to know his darling a little bit more? So he offered a deal with you, listing the terms and the two of you shook on it…though he had to put your hand around his in a handshake. You were still wary of him, no doubt, and knew he did not like being touched. Suppose there was a benefit of working under Rosie as her secretary in his absence. 
No doubt she told stories about you as much as she told him about you. She would go on about how efficient you were, how you always showed up on time and dressed appropriately as per the rules of the Cannibal Colony, etc. Why, she told him so much about you that he had been curious to meet you~! 
And he was not disappointed. 
Now, as he watched you gracefully leap across the murky lake he had conjured, the parasol held high over your head in your gloved hand, Alastor was spellbound at the sight. His smile grew wider, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. But he refused to allow himself to get dirty again and pay another visit to the tailor; that was why he kept several feet away from the water, and he chose not to appear on the opposite side of the lake, as much as he’d like to. Oh well, there was always next time.
You had almost slipped, however, when your back foot began to loose traction on the water.
Well…nothing wrong with providing a little assistance, as far as he is aware of.  
He summoned a tentacle from beneath the lake with a wave of his hand, letting you use it as leverage to bolster your speed and give you the stability needed to make one final leap to the opposite side. And you did, much to his delight and yours. When you smiled brightly at him….well, he was very pleased. He had just witnessed a new expression that he was quite sure no one else has seen since your arrival at the hotel. He chuckled darkly. He watched you walk back to him, face flushed, still clutching the parasol in one hand and the other one raising your skirt so that you wouldn’t tumble over your feet. 
My, my, you truly are a fascinating soul.” He remarked, a hint of ominous delight in his voice. He had no doubt that you will dazzle everyone with your performance tomorrow and with his help. Afterwards…well, there will be no way for Vox to interfere. Oh, this was going to be entertaining. 
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Taglist
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648 notes · View notes
imagineaworld · 1 month
Text
stray shadow 🗡️ azriel
summary: azriel loses a shadow, only for it to lead him straight to you
warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public place (kinda), dirty talk, swearing, mentions of alcohol
word count: 1.5k
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Azriel seemed to have lost one of his shadows.
He had been too busy observing the crowd for potential threats to notice the shadow sneak off somewhere. After deciding there were no current threats amongst the crowd gathered in the Court of Nightmares, he slipped off in search of the stray.
Following the gentle tug that was beckoning him to the other side of the cavernous hall, he kept to the outskirts to avoid the mass of bodies talking, dancing and drinking.
As the tug grew stronger, he wondered curiously where his shadow was leading him. Had it sensed a threat that even he hadn't spotted? It seemed unlikely, but not impossible.
Eventually, he approached a small crowd loitering by the table littered with glasses and flutes of wine and champagne. His shadow was close, he could sense it. He scanned the small group, seeking the familiar darkness of his shadows.
There. He spotted it; slinked around a high-heeled ankle. His eyes trailed upwards, following the exposed bare leg, continuing up a gossamer-clad torso, a plunging neckline, a long slender neck, before settling on the face of the most beautiful female he had ever seen.
-
You hadn't noticed it at first. The soft brush had just felt like the fabric of your dress sweeping against your ankle. But when you looked down, you noticed a black shadow slowly wrapping itself around your ankle. It tickled, pulling a smile from you as you watched it wend its way up your leg, exposed through the slit in your dress.
Curiously, you reached down to touch it as it skated your thigh. In answer, it wrapped itself around your fingers. Bringing your hand closer to your face, you watched in wonder as it danced in between your fingers.
You were so distracted by the shadow that you didn't notice the owner of the shadow approach until he spoke.
-
"They seem to like you."
It was the only thing Azriel could think to say as he watched you smile at the shadow flitting around in your hand. All thoughts had left his mind, the sight rendering him speechless for a few seconds.
At the sound of his voice, you looked up. Your eyes locked onto his, amusement dancing in them. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.
"Lose something?" You spoke, your voice like caramel.
Struck dumb, Azriel could only watch as you gently flicked his shadow in his direction, returning it to him. Reluctantly, the shadow rejoined the mass swirling around his feet. Az realised he should say something.
"I apologise for disturbing you," he managed. "I usually have them under control, but they're feeling rebellious today."
You laughed, and it was the single greatest sound he has ever heard. Azriel couldn't contain his own smile, self-consciously rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
"Should I be concerned about drawing their attention?" You inquired playfully.
Az chuckled. "No, not unless you plan on causing trouble."
Something like mischief sparked in your eyes. "Oh, I always plan on causing trouble."
Gods, save him.
You extended a hand and introduced yourself.
"Azriel." He said, his scarred hand clasping yours as he suppressed his disgust at marring you with his touch.
You repeated his name, just a murmur, but loud enough for him to hear. Perhaps he had been wrong, it was not your laugh that was the greatest sound he had ever heard, but the sound of his name of your lips.
-
You weren't quite sure how you were playing it so cool. The male standing before you was quite simply the most handsome male you had ever seen. Talking to males never normally intimidated you, but you felt the need to leave a lasting impression on this one.
Just the touch of his hand on yours had sent tingles down your spine. The feeling was unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. It was safe to say, for the first time in your life, you were out of your depth.
The musicians began playing a tune that had hoards of people flocking to the dance floor.
"Well, Azriel," you began, holding out your hand. "Do you or your shadows dance?"
Wordlessly, with a glint in his eyes, Azriel took your hand and led you out into the crowd of couples on the dance floor.
Az took the lead in the dance with a newfound confidence. You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the hard muscles beneath his jacket. His large hand on your waist felt equally as strong, but he held you at a respectable distance.
As if unhappy with the distance between you, his shadows reached for you. They pulled you in closer, wrapping round the two of you as you moved gracefully on the dance floor.
You huffed a laugh, your breasts now flush against Azriel's broad chest. "They're definitely rebellious."
Az only grunted in response, as though words were beyond him.
Looking up at him as he towered over you, you bit your lip, anxious that your closeness had made him uncomfortable.
He was already looking down at you when your eyes met his, dark with lust. "Don't look at me like that." He ground out.
"Why not?" You challenged, your own newfound confidence coming through at the realisation he was growing hard beneath you as your bodies pressed together.
He growled lowly. "Drives me crazy."
His gravelly voice went straight to your core, and as his eyes darkened further, you knew he could scent your arousal. Refusing to blush, you held his gaze and he inhaled, a restrained groan building in his throat.
"You smell divine."
You bit your lip again. "Why don't you find out how I taste?"
You refused to break Azriel's gaze, which had turned feral at your words. In that gaze, you could see an internal battle between desire and logic. 
"Offer's on the table," you told him. "No strings."
Azriel whirled around, leading you by your joint hands to the nearest exit. Once outside the hall, your heels clicked on the stone as he led you down a handful of dim corridors. He stopped beside an alcove, pushing you in with his body. The alcove was just big enough for the two of you, his shadows blocking you from sight of any stray passers-by.  
Not wasting any time, Az connected his mouth to yours in the most sensous kiss you had ever experienced. You leaned into the kiss and tangled your fingers into Azriel's hair, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat.
He trailed kisses from your mouth down your neck, sucking and nipping with his teeth. You let out a breathy moan as his teeth grazed over your nipple, the fabric of your dress pushed aside.
Through the slit in your dress, Azriel stroked your thigh, higher and higher until he reached where your underwear should have been.
"No panties?" He growled. "You really are looking for trouble."
His fingers toyed with your pussy, gathering up the slick before sliding one finger inside.
"Azriel." You breathed, the sensation overwhelming you.
He moved his finger in and out of you, curling it just right as he added another. 
"Feel so good round my fingers, baby," he praised, watching as you started to unravel. "Let's find out how you taste."
He dropped to his knees before you, gathering the fabric of your dress and bunching it round your hips. The scent of your arousal and the feeling of your slick had hardened his cock beneath his trousers. He licked a long, slow line along your pussy, teasing you.
"Please," you begged.
"So needy," he taunted. You could hear the smugness in his voice. Putting you out of your misery, he pressed his mouth to your pussy. Like a man starved, he licked, sucked, nipped at you, all the while sliding his fingers in and out.
You moaned his name, fingers tugging at strands of his hair. He growled at the sensation, which reverberated against your clit. You felt your release building.
"Fuck, you taste so good," his voice full of lust. "You gonna cum for me, baby?"
"Yes," you breathed. "Fuck, don't stop."
Obliging, he picked up the pace of his fingers, and focused his mouth on your clit. Your moans were obcene as you came, his name spilling out of you for all to hear. Azriel only slowed his pace once your pussy had stopped clenching round his fingers.
He looked up at you with a devilish grin, lips wet with your slick. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you, raising them to his lips taste you again. 
He raised up to his full height, towering over you. His hair a tussled mess, his eyes still dark with lust. "Until next time," he said, and vanished off, taking his shadows with him.
The sound of you moaning his name, the taste of you on his tongue, they lingered for hours. He thought about it - about you for the rest of the evening. Later that night, he fucked his fist and came at the thought of you.
792 notes · View notes
rubywonu · 8 months
Text
𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆
(n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.
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summary: in which seungcheol finally gathered the courage to make you his, permanently.
pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
warnings: kisses, nicknames, hand is on the thigh (?), wine, fireworks.
w/c: 1.7k
edited: by @pixieskie
nia’s notes: i had to write this. it was so fun to feed into my delusions. also im tagging my moots at the bottom to help spread this fic.
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today was the day seungcheol finally gathered the courage to ask you to be his for forever. he'd been thinking about it for quite a long time but only now had he been preparing for it. 
he spent weeks looking for the perfect ring but nothing ever seemed to satisfy him, after all seungcheol only wanted the best of the best for you and it showed in everything. 
he visited jewellery stores every day and spent his free time searching for ring designs on the internet. and then finally he found it. he felt a sense of accomplishment the moment he placed the order for your ring.
everything was starting to feel real and at that moment, it hit seungcheol hard. he was going to propose to you. 
he spent the next few weeks in anxiety that you would find the ring and proceeded to change the hidden location of the ring every day. the first step being completed, the next step was to propose to you.
everyone who knew seungcheol knew he was someone who proclaimed his love in a very materialistic way, especially to you. 
he asked his friends to go with him to shortlist places for the occasion and that also took quite a lot of time. he drove 6 hours every day and spent the majority of his time watching vlogs of the venues they had chosen. after a painful month of travelling all over seoul, he finally found the perfect place to propose to you. 
after that came the most tiring step of them all, how was seungcheol going to propose to you? he needed decorations, venue reservations, to fly out your family on the other side of korea, a photographer - which he later decided that mingyu fit the role- he needed to get outfits and the hardest part was that seungcheol had to do it without you noticing. 
he made calls day and night to inquire about different things that were required for the proposal. he called your family members and personally invited them. seungcheol visited the venue every day and planned the decorations with a team of professionals. 
seungcheol was glad that you didn't catch on to his behaviour since he wasn't the best at keeping secrets.
after long months of planning, the day finally arrived. as usual, seungcheol went home and told you to get ready as he was taking you on a date.
you didn't expect anything, he was always taking you on surprise dates. seungcheol laid a beautiful red dress out for you on the bed with a note. you stepped out of the bedroom and there was seungcheol. he was fiddling with his watch as he stood in front of the room. 
hearing the door open, seungcheol looked at you and his world stopped. your hair framed your face perfectly and the matching red lip made you look irresistibly perfect. with his mouth open in awe, he walked towards you and held your hand, spinning you around. he listened to your giggles as the dress fluttered around you. 
being struck by your beauty, seungcheol felt so so happy to be yours. he watched as you walked over to the shoe cabinet and took out a pair of black heels. seungcheol made it over to you and stopped you before you could wear them. he got down on his knees and placed his hand under your heel before kissing your calves. 
now was your time to be speechless. you stared at him as he worked the latches on your heels. oh, how powerful you felt, for a man to be this in love with you that he got on his knees to slip on a pair of heels on you. 
seungcheol stood and gave you his hand for you to hold as support. no words were exchanged but you felt loved and appreciated each time seungcheol opened doors for you or gave you his arm to hold while you climbed down the stairs. 
the drive was the best description of innocent love, the both of you shared glances at each other and you smiled whenever seungcheol squeezed your thigh. it felt so intimate.
you decided to break the silence. "where are we going, my love?" you smiled at him and he looked at you when the car stopped at a red light. seungcheol reciprocated the smile and placed a kiss on your cheek before answering. 
"it's a secret, cherry." you blushed at the nickname. you've heard it for a long time but each time he calls you 'cherry', your heart picks up on a few beats. 
"oh come on!" you whined one last time hoping for an answer but all he did was smile and bring your hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on it. thankfully, this action made you forget about your destination as you sat there flustered.
the sun began to set and the sky had a beautiful pink gradient. it made this 'date' even more magical. while you gazed at the sky, you didn't realize you were at the destination until seungcheol opened the door and began walking towards you. 
he opened your door, and again held his arm out as support. you set your dress out as your eyes roamed the place in wonder. you've never seen such a beautiful restaurant before. the ocean glistened behind the restaurant. a small path connected the restaurant with the beach. 
the red sun was on par with the horizon. the scenery to you, looked like it had come out of a fairytale. not for seungcheol though. he was too busy staring at the fascination on your gorgeously sculpted face.
as much as he hated the hours of travel to look for this place, it felt like an accomplishment when you hugged him, thankful for this date. 
a waiter came up to you and guided the both of you inside the restaurant. 
seungcheol's hand rested on your lower back, and his body warmth immediately spread throughout your body, making you feel comfortable. the table that was reserved for the both of you was perfect. it had a view of the beach and the sunset that illuminated the restaurant, making it a beautiful hue of orange and pink. 
"did you order for us beforehand?" you asked after the waiter left your favourite wine bottle on the table. seungcheol got up from his seat and opened the bottle before pouring it for you. he knew that you loved it when he served you wine.
"only the wine, nothing else." seungcheol sat down in his place and grabbed your hand over the table, rubbing his thumb over it ever so gently. 
the menus were handed to you and seungcheol didn't let go of your hand even then, you smiled at his clingy behaviour. you skimmed through the menu and placed your order when the waiter came to collect it, seungcheol ordered a dish that you seem intrigued by, it was one that you had never heard of before.
there was a comfortable silence that enveloped the both of you as you stared at the sunset at the beach. it was romantic and private. no eyes were staring at the both of you, just you and seungcheol being sickly in love. 
the dishes arrived soon after and the both of you started eating, seungcheol made comments on how beautiful you looked and you couldn't respond, all you did was shyly giggle at each and every one of them. the both of you moved on to other topics and time flew. by the time the both of you were done eating, the sun had set completely, and the moon shone in the starry night. 
you and seungcheol walked towards the beach after he paid for the meal. hand in hand, you swayed them and took a walk on the beach. you shivered slightly at the chilly wind and seungcheol noticed as he immediately took off his trench coat and gave it to you.
you were about to walk further when you realised that seungcheol had stopped walking. you turned around with a confused expression on your face when you realised that he looked...nervous. 
"cheol, is everything okay?" you asked as you walked in front of him and cupped his face, you laughed out an apology when he flinched at the coldness of your palms. 
"yeah. um." he pulled away from you and held your hands before looking into your eyes. seungcheol's nerves were spiking up and he didn't know how to control it.
"you know the day i met you was the best day of my life. i was having a really bad day, but then you showed all happy and giddy. you put an automatic smile on my face and i didn't even know who you were." his words melted your heart, and you didn't even notice you were crying until seungcheol wiped the tear off your face.  
"and then we continued to meet at that coffee shop near hybe. after a few weeks, i finally gathered up the courage to ask you out. i remember being so nervous to talk to you, and then i found out your voice was sweeter than your personality." you laughed through the tears at the corniness of seungcheol's words. 
"after we started to date, i found out the real meaning of happiness. i used to dread coming home, it was so cold and dark but when you moved in, the house started to feel like my home, and soon my home turned into our home." 
you were sobbing at this point, and then seungcheol started shedding tears. 
"i want this to last my whole life, and i hope you want that too." you were nodding by the end of this sentence. 
and then seungcheol got down on one knee and pulled out a velvet box. you knew this was going to happen, but now that it was playing out in front of you, it felt surreal. "so, yn. can you make me the happiest man in this world and marry me?" 
he popped open the box and there the diamond studded ring glistened.  a single grey diamond rested on top and smaller white diamonds decorated the band of the ring. it sparkled in the moonlight, which made it even more magical.
you nodded profusely and sobbed harder as seungcheol shakily slipped the ring on your finger. he stood up and pulled you into a hug and brought you into a kiss, seungcheol dipped you as fireworks were set off in the distance. behind you, party poppers and cheers erupted from all of your friends and families. 
you couldn't stop smiling when everyone congratulated the both of you. after the congratulations, you could see everyone talking about your wedding and seungcheol was happy that he didn't have to go through planning that by himself. it was safe to say planning the proposal was stressful but so worth it.
you looked at seungcheol who was already looking at you lovingly.
"why are you looking at me like that, mr. choi?" you asked cheekily, you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.
"why? cant i look at my wife, mrs. choi?" the both of you smiled. 
"future wife." you corrected your fiancé.
"either way you're mine, mrs. choi." 
"that i am, mr. choi."
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tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @etherealyoungk . @fairyhaos . @kyeomyun . @odxrilove . @itadorins . @ylliris-hanniehae . @wqnwoos . @slytherinshua .
2K notes · View notes
silent-stories · 1 month
Text
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
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Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader
Summary: Astarion fears that he is forcing you to spend the rest of your life in darkness.
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Astarion was lying on the bed, next to you, his eyes were staring at an indefinite point on the ceiling and between his eyebrows there were a few more wrinkles, as if he was intensely thinking.
The inn room was comfortable, clean, and scented with lavender. It was nice to finally be able to spend a few days of peace after Cazador's death and sleep in a real bed, next to someone you loved.
You looked at his profile, the curve of his lips, the white curls on the pillow and some falling onto his forehead, the way his chest remained completely still, devoid of a beating heart and air in his lungs.
His ruby ​​eyes looked darker now that they were no longer in daylight and you found yourself thinking that you already missed the way they sparkled when hit by the sun's rays.
You glanced at the window in the room, the curtains were drawn so as not to let in the slightest bit of light, obviously. Ever since Astarion went back to not being able to be in the sunlight, you were always careful about that.
"Is something bothering you, Star?"
You already knew the answer, you knew him, but you didn't want to force any explanation.
"Don't you think you made the wrong choice?" He responded with another question, his voice low.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you think I am the wrong choice?" He continued speaking without looking at you, his pale hands lying one on his stomach and one on his side. You wanted to grab one, kiss his knuckles and play with his fingers in that way that always made him laugh no matter how hard he tried to hold it back.
You decided against it only because he seemed so deep in his thoughts that a sudden touch would start him. You knew that some types of physical contact were still new to him.
"Star-"
"I feel like I'm forcing you to spend the rest of your life in the dark, hiding."
"You're not forcing me, it was my decision to stay with you."
"This is exactly why I ask you: don't you think you made the wrong decision?"
"You will never be-"
He interrupted you.
"I want you to know that if at any moment you realize that this is not the life you want to live, that you are tired of hiding from the sun, I will understand.
And although I may never be ready to let you go, I will, because you deserve to live. You deserve to walk among people, village festivals, going through the markets, you deserve the sun's rays kissing your skin. And I don't want to deprive you of what you deserve, my love. I can't deprive you of living."
The way he spoke and the sincerity in his voice, devoid of any hint of sarcasm and irony, struck you in a way you couldn't quite place and left you speechless.
He was telling you to leave him for your own good.
"As much as I would like to have you next to me for eternity, I find it a too selfish idea. Even for me." He continued, "So I'm telling you, if one day I won't find you lying in bed next to me, don't feel guilty for running away from someone who was limiting you, who was forcing you into the darkness when you wanted to see the world.
I'll understand it. I won't lie and say I won't spend the rest of my days trying in vain to fill the void you left in me, but that won't change my mind. You deserve to live, my love. Not to hide."
He was saying you could go, even though it would cause him pain. That it was more important to know you were happy with someone else than unhappy with him. You wondered if there was a greater sign of love than this.
"My star."
The way you called him, maybe stirred something in him. He turned his head towards you and his gaze finally met yours, his red eyes were big, sad and full of affection.
“I would rather spend the rest of my life in the darkness with you than in the daylight with someone else.”
He slowly moved his body towards you, his hand gently brushing your hip and so you reached out to trace his features with your fingertips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.
You kept talking.
"The world is still alive when the sun goes down, we can go out and live with it. We can see how the moon reflects on the waves of the sea and on the surface of the lakes, we can walk in the woods that only we know, we can try to count the stars and invent new constellations."
His grip around you became firmer but still extremely gentle as he pushed you closer to his body. You put your arms around him in the same way and with your hand you caressed his back, aware that under the light fabric of his shirt, the scars of his past stood out on his skin.
You remembered the day he told you that it was okay, when you touched them, that they hadn't caused him physical pain in years and that, when he felt the tips of your fingers run gently over them, it was as if they were healing for a second time.
"I don't care what we do, as long as we're together. I'm not interested in running away from you because I don't want anyone else. You won't find my side of the bed empty one day, because that's the only place I want to be. You didn't force me to do anything, Star, it was my decision to be with you. And it will be my decision to stay with you every day to follow."
There was a moment of silence, then his lips curved into a slight smile. Almost invisible, but enough to show the tips of his white canines.
“You have always been so stubborn.” He murmured before leaving a kiss on your forehead. It was light and sweet and made you giggle.
"I think you like that."
"Just a bit."
"Just a bit?" You asked, pretending to be shocked.
"Mh-mh."
"Now don't you try to tell me that-"
When his cold lips met yours, you couldn't finish your sentence. The kiss was sweet, full of meaning and slower than usual.
Because in the end, you had all the time.
Because you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon.
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bell4donn4 · 1 month
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Thoughts 💭
Luke with a reader who has tattoos.
Implied smut ahead!
When you first arrived at camp, it was winter. Your arms were covered, and so were your tattoos.
But once the summer came, he was left speechless.
He had to take a double look to truly realize what was right in front of his eyes; Your arms fully covered in black ink.
He was so mesmerized by your tattoos, it felt almost embarrassing the way he couldn’t take his eyes off them. He tried his best not to show it, because clearly, it wasn’t that big of a deal, right?
Wrong. he’s never seen other campers with tattoos, even the older ones, so yes, It was a big deal indeed. he was so struck by them. He wanted to ask question, to know all of their hidden meanings, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
He was only able to find out what your favorite of all time was, and which one was your first when he casually overheard you talking with Chris.
Although, even if he didn’t happen to overhear the conversation, Chris would’ve told him anyways because he knew his friend’s weird obsession with the patchwork you had on you.
And when you told him you had others hidden on the rest of your body? That was his last straw.
Maybe you had one right in the middle of your chest; or maybe on your thigh. The thought of where the others could’ve been hunted him in his dreams.
Nonetheless, he fantasized daily about tracing them with the tip of his finger, or kissing them even; Grazing his lip along the lines.
He would do anything to be able to spend his evening laying in bed memorizing them, spending hours discovering where you hid others.
Sometimes he would let his mind wonder, and bring the fantasies so far as imagining how they would move while he fucked you.
Maybe, you had a tramp stamp. That would’ve definitely looked nice from behind.
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yuellii · 9 months
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flawless night, forevermore
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feat. ayato, baizhu, alhaitham, childe, kaveh, raiden ei ( separate )
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you
( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to know the songs to read / understand )
note. reader’s gender unspecified, no other warnings
> part one / part two ( more characters )
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KAMISATO AYATO. lover
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His lips curled up with a fathomless fondness he did not even notice about himself. His ticklish gaze, his admiring eyes, his comforting silence—such a poor, poor man drowning in his hopelessness, falling love struck into the night.
Even atop the dewy grass that stained his carefully tailored clothes, he paid no mind to the mess as he preferred to hear you talk instead. The intelligence of a Kamisato was long forgone in the melody of your voice, and perhaps you had strum his heartstrings too much to the point he loses his senses. He forgets a lot of things about himself when he’s with you, perhaps at one point, even his own name.
Kamisato, the name that ties him to a lifetime of formality and not a single night of rest. A dreary lifetime that does not allow him to learn the wonders of love. But oh, how he loves you.
“I’ve always wanted one of those cute little tea tables,” you muttered into the cool winds under the glowing moon. Your finger absentmindedly traced an oval into the air, a motion that had his head following your invisible drawing. “We can sit together in the mornings and have tea before work.”
“Then we’ll get one,” Ayato affirmed. He failed to notice how his own grin had widened, simply as an automatic reaction from seeing your pleased smile at his response. “Little cushions for us to sit in, too,” he added on. “You know those round ones? We can have them in our favorite colors.”
Look at him, blushing over silly cushions.
There’s a dazzling haze in his eyes when he’s like this. It’s a spark that never runs out once ignited, for he has a history of rambling when he’s with you. “There is this porcelain tea set we can get, which has a pattern I know you’ll like,” he’ll say, further jumping to “And it comes in a set of four—we can always invite Ayaka and Thoma over to drink with us.” He’ll go on and on like this, fantasizing of a life where you lived together, happily ever after.
He’s imagined this for eons in his head. Such innocent-presenting ideas and remarks, but it’s obvious in the way he talks so fast. It’s ridiculously evident the more excited he gets as the night stretches on, that he’s been daydreaming of the moment you move in with him, so he may love you every day.
All he asks is to be forever yours, for as long as time permits.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
BAIZHU. sparks fly
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It almost never rained in Liyue.
But his words were such a booming thunderstorm that no water droplet could ever compare, even amidst this cold, grey afternoon. And only when he finally blew you away like a thin stack of cards, did he feel a sharp sense of emptiness at the sight of you running off into the pouring rain.
Baizhu admitted that you were a burden to him. Boring, unintelligent, annoying—that you were a hindrance to be around. You were only a distraction to Qiqi, and more importantly, a bothersome presence to him.
It took all his willpower just to spit such venom from his tongue straight to your face—all his might just to convince you that seeing him is a bad idea. And yet, you still called him a liar.
“You mean none of those words,” you sharply inhaled via short, speechless breaths. He could tell you were breaking down from his hateful speech, but to his guilt, it was exactly what he wanted to see from you. “You’re just trying to drive me away again,” you spat out. You were trying to convince yourself: that fact alone was clear to him. But the longer he stayed quiet despite biting back the truth—biting back that he has fallen so immensely deep in love with you—you began to doubt yourself.
But the moment he watched your figure break down past this storm, he immediately crumbled with a sense of guilt much stronger than any curse he has ever wished upon himself.
Perhaps he was too harsh on you. Archons, perhaps he was too mean—this was exactly why he didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than such a sick, lowly man who could not even live for himself, instead binding his life to save others instead.
But still, even after all his own revelations and realization of his nonexistent self worth…
He was still a greedy, selfish man.
And that selfishness had him running right out of his door and into the pouring rain, not caring at how the sudden cold nipped and picked at his skin, or how the winds beat at his frail body. Not even the Archons could halt such a starvation for salvation—it was the only spark he had left to chase.
In this cold, dreary life—in this cold, dreary day alone—you still shone like the sun under the dim streetlights of Liyue upon this pale grey sky. His body still eased the moment you caught his eye, almost as if your gaze alone had suddenly removed every drop of sickness he self-injected into his own bloodstream, or as if you were the cure he was looking for all his life.
Such selfishness once again had his body fighting from collapsing when he desperately fell into your arms that held him so dearly. And the greed of mankind only snapped when found his lips settled so hopelessly against yours, clinging onto your kiss as if he would die tonight.
Truly, maybe he would. But for now, in your embrace, he feels the strongest he’s ever been since he sold his soul.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
ALHAITHAM. enchanted
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Archons, he hated these events, though he had no choice but to attend. No one could ever allow the Acting Grand Sage, even if he held so much spite, to escape the demeaning eyes of Sumerean publicity.
Alhaitham held himself as an independent soul. But this formalwear, this clanging of champagne glasses, this suffocating air—were definitely not so independent nor free.
This hall of aspiring young scholars and old men, all in one exhibit for the sake of research and networking. Academics is what they acclaim, but the Acting Grand Sage may be too thick of a personality for them (if he had one at all). But the only thing keeping his eyes open from boredom, quite surprisingly a person, was you.
You, who looked young compared to these much older alumni and long-time scholars. And it was truly you, out of the many faces in this room, who he could not name.
Your eyes met from across the room. Such a sliver of a chance—his eyes whispered a curious glance from the opposite wall among this dreary sea of scholars. There was a spark graced by the Electro Archon, perhaps; or maybe even a gush of wind from the God of Anemo. But every sense of composure was lost when his body moved on its own, walking himself closer and closer just to meet you.
It begins with hello; it always does. It continues with quick remarks, with “I’ve never seen you before,” and with “Have we met?” And soon enough, he feels like he’s in school again. He feels a flutter he has not known in years, an urge to talk quicker than he can think. The crinkle at the corner of your eyes has him immersed in amazement. The sole fact that you can crack a smile at him; a smile that wasn’t fake politeness like all these scholars.
For some reason unbeknownst to him, that expression of yours alone had his feet glued to the floor, like you’ve trapped him in such an engaging conversation he desperately could not let go. It was a forcibly dreadful night—you turned it flawlessly enchanting in a way that you read to him like a book, all in which he could not put you down once he begins.
And once the event ends, and he is forced to leave you so soon, he watches you walk away with an expression that he himself could not even read.
Wonderstuck.
He would never notice the light tint on his face, staining his cheeks all the way home.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
CHILDE. cruel summer
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Left foot, right foot, tiptoe, right foot—hold the counter, hold the wall, hold the rail all the way up the steps… He’s got this.
One step down the hall, another foot down, a third one until he finds a steady rhythm. The room is hazy, the walls are spinning. His head hurts and he feels like a baby taking his first steps, so helpless and unsteady that he almost wants to cry again from exasperated frustration alone. Why was this so hard? Did he really hate himself so much, that he would stagger his way home from the bar like this?
One hand on the door, turn the knob, and—
Ah. He dropped his keys so loudly on the floor.
You woke up with a start from the bedside, immediately turning to him wide-eyed in both starling surprise from the noise, and more importantly, concern. He didn’t mean to wake you. He hated feeling guilty, but it was the exact feeling that crept up his spine once he saw the devastated look on your face. Frenzied eyes and dark circles—clearly you had stayed up just to wait for him, too.
“Ajax,” you voiced—a tone full of worry and heavy exhaustion, God, he felt so horrible. “Oh, Ajax, come here.”
As much as he didn’t like it when you cared for him like this, he was not immune to the sounds of your calling. His shaky legs carried him immediately, as if the alcohol in his system was pulling him towards you, too. “I’m fine,” he barely stuttered out. It was a claim he had to make immediately, a sign he was desperate to reassure you.
Your eyes grew heavier, though he did not know if they were lidded from concern or from sleepiness. Either way, he practically melted from the touch of your palms resting against his cheeks. So warm, but a much more pleasant warmth than the burning summer air that he just walked in, all the way home with a liquor-dazed mind.
“Have you been crying…?” Ah, and that was why your eyes were narrow—they were squinting at the sorry stains of tears that lined his cheeks. He forgot to wipe them, it seemed. It was almost laughable.
“No, just sweat from the heat.”
Crying over you… He’d never let you know that. To cry, to bleed, to die—you would never be the first person he tells.
“You reek of liquor…” Quite disgustingly so, he thinks. And yet, you still held his face so fondly, moving his head in such a gentle manner as you swiped his tear stains with the pads of your thumbs.
He stayed silent. He had no answer to this one.
“I love you,” he mutters, though it’s a confession nevertheless. And he says it so sadly—so miserably that you couldn’t help but sigh. He hates it, too. He hates it when you sigh. Because when you sigh, it means you’ll just let it go; No matter how many lies he tells, or how many times he cries, or how many secrets he keeps, you’ll still accept him like always.
“I love you, too.” And that was the worst line he’s ever heard.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
KAVEH. foolish ones
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“Oh, woe is me…” Loves me, loves me not, loves me… “Did you happen to see anything in the mailbox?”
His roommate stared. “Go check it yourself.”
Kaveh heavily sighed. He couldn’t; He physically could not bear to do it. It’s not that he was lazy to get up, no. The real issue was the genuine grief he would feel when he opened the mailbox, only to see nothing inside. No special gifts, no romantic letters, and absolutely no confessions of love signed with your name.
It was embarrassing, really. To feel this dramatic and obsessed with words of admiration from you—oh, especially when Alhaitham found out about this whole lovesick ordeal. But he could not help his mind from just imagining it: the reflection of himself in your eyes as you finally confess your feelings of passion and love for him (feelings that didn’t exist, feelings he merely imagined you having, all so pathetically).
But he’s so weird, and he’s so terrible. To imagine a fabled life with you when you probably did not think about him this same way. How foolish. Did you daydream about him like he daydreamed about you every night before he slept? Did you think about him like he thought about you every time he sees your favorite color in the passing? Did you wait at your mailbox like he waited for any letters from you? No. No, you didn’t.
And he’s cried, quite humiliatingly. He’s cried that the perfect life he could picture himself having with you at his side would never be a reality. He’s cried a downpour of tears, simply because he allowed himself to be so caught up in a delusion that was so sick of him to conjure up.
“Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“So sorry Kaveh, I already have plans…”
Plans with someone else. No wonder you hadn’t written him any messages, or contacted him in a while. That… was not the scenes he had in his head. His imaginations, his hopes, his dreams—they did not have someone else in them. For someone he was so hopelessly in love with, he felt so much hurt. A foolish lesson to be learned by a foolish romantic.
In the end, he’d just be talking himself to sleep again. He’d just smile at the sight of you flourishing. Without him, your world will go on turning. A world full of reciprocated love and devotion, one that he would never know.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
RAIDEN EI. you belong with me
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The Raiden Shogun was self-destructive. No more than a few people knew of such a fact, but she was certainly one of them.
Because if she cared for her own wellbeing, truly, then she would not fall for selfish desires. Nor, would she be here now, sitting next to you outside a sliding screen in her private gardens of Tenshukaku, sipping your favorite tea and hearing your sweet voice ramble about something so unpleasant to her ears. If she prioritized her own emotions, then maybe she’d be living in blissful ignorance right now instead of listening to your woes over a lover… A lover that was not her.
“And then, she teases me,” you complained, though it was clear you hated it. You didn’t like whining about your partner, which was a good thing—but it made Ei feel sick, because it meant you really loved that woman. “I know she does that all the time, and I just need to get used to it,” you continued, “but sometimes, it gets too much, and she still doesn’t stop.”
But I wouldn’t do that to you, the archon thinks to herself. And suddenly, the tea isn’t as appetizing anymore, because her own words felt drilled onto her tongue, forever forbidden to speak aloud.
“Miko… Has always been like that,” Ei quietly admits instead. She doesn’t want to insult your lover, for that same person was also her own friend. She wanted to be supportive, but it was impossible when she was so in love with you, that she spent every second of each passing day just wishing she was in Miko’s place instead.
“Yeah… But—still, I mean…” You sighed, coming to a loss for words to describe the pink haired shrine maiden. “Is it really so hard to ask just for her to understand how I’m feeling…?” you whined in what seemed like genuine distress. Your face sunk into your hands, and it took all of Ei’s willpower just to keep her respective distance from a romantically taken friend.
But I understand how you feel, Ei once again thinks. She feels so dirty of a friend for comparing herself like this. I understand you better than she will ever.
“Ei…” you muttered. She almost chokes from the way you say her name. “What should I do…?”
Be with me, instead. “Don’t cry over something, or someone, you cannot control. It’s possible your personalities are just not fit for each other, you know.”
“But I love her, Ei…”
Ouch.
She clears her throat, recovering from sharp breath of air she just inhaled. A part of her just broke in that moment, and it was so obvious, too—her expression quickly changed, her body became stiff, her balance suddenly shifted, and yet…
You noticed none of it. Your head was too clouded over love for another woman that was not her; So clouded, in fact, you did not notice the way Ei almost began to tremble. The misery you carried only crafted tenfold for the archon, eternally unbeknownst to you.
But you don’t belong to her, anyways. So why was she crying?
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knavves · 11 months
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ANYTHING 4 MY FAV LADY ft various bllk & hq! men — them being your certified munches !
wc: 0.7k ノ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. cunnilingus. praise. body worship. male masturbation. face sitting. overstimulation. teasing. hair pulling. use of pet names.
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every time you post, he is the first to swipe up on your story just to tell you how fine you are, like your own personal hype man. and of course you entertain it, with the way he's showering you with praise and saying how you looked extra beautiful in the pic you posted that day, how could you not?
when he has you in front of him though, clad in a skimpy outfit he'd told you was his favorite, he's speechless. so bold over text but heart thumping uncontrollably now that he has you, a fantasy he could only pray would come true as he fucked his fist to the thought of you. when you tell him to "eat you out and maybe you'll let him fuck you" he's on his knees in an instant. you adore him you really do but it's an ego trip to see someone so eager for you and only you so you can't really help but tease him a little. he loves it anyway.
he takes his time with you, wanting to savor this moment. he hooks his fingers around the hem of your lacy panties, noting that the color really complimented you. god you were gorgeous. he could spend hours between your legs just worshipping you but he doesn't wanna keep his pretty baby waiting. "you're so beautiful, my love." he says with an overbearing amount of sincerity laced in every word. his cock throbs at the sight of your cunt glistening with your arousal, all for him? he wouldn't believe it if he was told so.
you gasp at the vibrations of him groaning into your cunt when he finally tastes you. even while his tongue is deep inside your spongey walls and lapping at your sensitive clit, he makes sure to let you know how fucking good you taste. his jaw may ache and his knees might be bruised from being rested against the floor for so long but he has to get you to cum over and over on his tongue so you know how much he cherishes you.
yukimiya, aryu, aiku, ness, hinata, hanamaki, bokuto, akaashi, semi, kita, osamu
who is he if he's not blowing his money on his beautiful girl? he's infatuated with you, borderline obsession if he's being honest. but it's impossible not to be, it's like you've hexed him or something. his mind is constantly spiraling with thoughts of you and only you, he's never wanted someone as badly as he does you.
his budget is unlimited when it's for your needs. pricy lingerie and silky dresses, all of it is for you. he acts frantically, the thought of you getting wooed over by another person frustrates him. so he spoils you in hopes he's the only one ever on your mind just like you're the only one on his.
when you cup his cheek and coo about how he's always so good to you with that playful smirk etching at the corners of your lips, he plays coy as if he isn't throbbing in his boxers at your praise. "no need to be so shy, baby. i think i should reward my good boy." you playfully jut your bottom lip in a pout and lightly pat his cheek. it's like the air was knocked from his lungs and his adam's apple bobs as he swallows nervously. only then does he realizes he hadn't said anything when you screw your eyebrows together, "oh? do you not-" "n-no. i do. i want to taste you, please." fuck the effect you had on him was almost embarrassing.
his hands smooth over your hips and down to your thighs, laying awe struck beneath you as your cunt hovers above his face. "fuck you're so pretty, baby." he groans before attaching himself to your clit. he suckles on your sensitive bud harder, lathering it in his spit, ripping more pitiful squeals and small gasps from your lips.
he doesn't even want anything in return, just being smothered by your pussy is enough for him. even while he's painfully hard in his pants and mindlessly thrusting his hips into the air, it doesn't matter to him.
"that's it, sit on my face more. i got you, m gonna make you cum." and you do just that, tugging on his roots as his wet muscle slides into your dripping hole. he loves it when you lose yourself, grinding on him and using his mouth to get yourself off.
his pupils are blown wide when you let up, the lower half of his face covered with your slick from him messily eating you out. his chest is heaving and his ears are tinted with a red blush but despite it all he asks to have you on his tongue once more.
karasu, sae, kaiser, barou, atsumu, suna, kageyama, kuroo, iwaizumi, matsukawa
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© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
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🌹💞
Simon Riley does not like Valentines day. To him, it's another one of those pointless holidays people use as an excuse for overconsumption and to try and show off how their lives are better than everyone else's. Simon hates the excessive gaudiness of it all and the lame hearts and flowers. Seriously, how much thought does someone put into a wilting bouquet of red roses and some overpriced chocolates in a flimsy heart shaped box - they're at the front of every supermarket throughout basically all of February, everywhere.
Simon Riley hates Valentines day until he meets you. Bumps into you at the local florist, unusually unaware of his surroundings as he stews on the pointless idiocy of another lame holiday. The way you squeal as the three dozen peonies wrapped in brown paper tumble to the floor which you land rather inelegantly beside snaps him from his reverie with a grunt. "Fuck - shite - M' so sorry love." He stutters out, feeling like all the air has been punched from his chest when he sees your big eyes staring up at him with wild confusion, now crumpled flowers long forgotten as you stare up at the intoxicatingly rich brown eyes of the man before you. Although, man doesn't feel like the right word for him, tall and strong and holding out a hand the size of your head to help you up, your peonies dwarfed by his long fingers as he helps you up.
You vaguely hear yourself mumble something in response, an awkward stutter like a lovesick teenager asking their crush to the movies, met by a strong hand to the top of your bicep, soothing you, asking if you're alright. A concerned eyebrow furrows when you don't respond, just stand there gawking like a fish. He wonders if maybe you hit your head on the way down, and he was too dumbstruck by the flurry of soft silky skin, glossy, sun-struck hair and petals to see. You look like you've just seen God, and he looks like he's just seen the most beautiful thing said God could ever have crafted.
"Are you okay?" The low timbre of his voice - you don't even know how to react, so dazed and confused and there's butterflies - no, not butterflies, bald eagles and kestrels and ospreys, massive feathery wings beating against your diaphragm and rendering you speechless - butterflies are for normal men. The man before you is too monumental for butterflies.
"Yes! Yes." You squeak in embarrassment like a mouse under a cat's paw, looking defeatedly down at your flowers, brown eyes following your gaze with a sympathetic look.
"Were these for someone?" He seems almost a little flustered by his foolish lack of spatial awareness, which just so happened to strike at the worst time, seeing as now he stands before you, clutching a withering bouquet, failing to save this conversation. Both of you stand like that together, in some strange limbo, like time has stood still in order to force you together, not starting back up again until this conversation goes somewhere. "Just me." You murmur, voice so pathetically small under the draw of his magnetism. He's probably here to get flowers for his girlfriend, or fiancee even. She'll probably turn up any second, beautiful and charismatic and just as magnetic as the man before you is.
"Let me buy you some more, yeah?" He nods his head back in the direction of the fancier florist in town, the one you'd splurged on in a valentines induced self-pity party. He buys you three dozen pink peonies, matching paper and ribbons too. He also insists on taking you for a coffee, and buying you some silly pink and white frosted cake in the excuse that your blood sugars probably dropped after the fall and some other fake nonsense like that. You obviously say yes, to the flowers and the coffee and the cake - to the gentle smiles and the crease of his warm brown eyes, his hand on the small of your back. Both of you say yes to giving Valentines day a try.
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Some short simple little V day fluff for y'all the brain isn't braining at the moment but also wanted to give you all a little Valentines day present because ily
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mariespen · 13 days
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Birthday Reunion ¡! ❞
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bf!rafe cameron x daddy issues!reader ¡! ❞ warnings: swearing, drinking, implied drinking problems, implied body shaming, mentions of anxiety, degrading comments summary: “What did I do to deserve you..”
based on this request!
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Your light pink heels tapped down the long staircase of Tannyhill, the curved architecture giving you the perfect princess moment. The only difference was that instead of a ballroom of people at the bottom, it was simply your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron. It didn’t matter, though. People would have thought you were real royalty just by the way his jaw hung when he saw you in the pretty dress he picked out just for your birthday present. It swished around your thighs, bringing his favorite parts of your body to focus… maybe too far into focus.
Your soft giggle broke him out of his star-struck trance. You couldn’t help it, he looked so cute in his formalwear for your birthday dinner. Just as your heels touched down on the ground, Rafe swept you up into his loving embrace.
“Looking fuckin’ amazing, hm?” He said with a grin, love coating his gaze as he looked down at you. All you could do was giggle. 
You poor thing, he always left you speechless.
Rafe’s face softened. Any form of laughter that left your sweet, glossy lips was music to his ears. You kept him close to him for a while and he let you, of course. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a care-free date between you and Rafe. However, it was your mother’s genius idea to bring the family together and celebrate your special day, all together. A family reunion on your birthday.. why did Rafe let you agree to this?
“Gotta cover up..” He muttered, busying himself with your cardigan and handing you one of his bigger zip-ups.
“Thank you..” You said gently, letting him help you drape it over your shoulders to keep you warm.
“Mhm.. you ready princess?” Rafe asked cautiously, still prepared to call you in sick from this whole thing.
“Yeah..” You said, a small frown on your face as you wrapped yourself closer into his sweater.
“Okay, let’s go, yeah?” He said, obviously disappointed that you were so insistent on this, somehow still supporting you.
Rafe knew how these things played out. He could predict it now, keeping you close as the two of you tried to socialize awkwardly with your family and then eventually your father showed up. Usually it was late, most of the time he was already a little drunk, and there was a 100% chance that he was not going to leave the reunion sober by any means. That’s the basic routine besides the fact that in-between downing every drink on the table, your precious daddy would degrade you until you ended up right back in Rafe’s arms.
Right back where you’ve always belonged.
The car ride was silent besides your girlie music and the soft sound of Rafe’s hand occasionally brushing against your dress when he rubbed your thigh comfortingly.
You had a tendency to react poorly in anxious situations, he knew this for a fact. Rafe planned on keeping you very very close tonight.
Pulling up the prolonged driveway of your mother’s expensive house on figure 8 made you want to throw up. She moved from your old house into this atrocity of a mansion, so at least there weren't any prominent reminders of your lonely childhood. It comforted you enough to take Rafe’s hand and let yourself out of the car. 
The two of you winced as you walked up to the door. Neither of you really wanted to be there all that much, Rafe arguably hated it even more than you (which was impressive).
He reached over your head to knock on the door. Five hard knocks that echoed through the soft music playing within the house. Your eyes darted around the cars, thankful to not see your father there yet. Maybe he forgot, he could be so drunk off his ass that he forgot about you.
For the better, probably.
Your mom eagerly opened the door, instantly wrapping both you and Rafe in a tipsy yet somehow still loving hug. Rafe greeted her with a hesitant smile as you slowly worked up the motivation to plaster on your own faux smile for the rest of the night.
Then began the awkward greetings. Your aunt and uncle instantly greeted you, your aunt marvling at Rafe for maybe a second too long. He smiled kindly at them. Rafe had always been better at putting on a nice show. You were thrown around the room, embraced in many of your family’s drunken arms and sluggish greetings. Somehow, even through all of the commotion, Rafe’s gentle hand remained on your back.
Hours passed and you felt a gasp of relief leave you as you realized the reunion was nearly over and your father had yet to make a show. You stood near the front door with Rafe over your shoulder, giddy to leave the moment that the clock struck 9pm. 
You felt his hand come down to your waist and clutch you closer to him, causing you to flinch slightly in surprise. Your heart stopped, realizing quickly why his grip was so prominent on your side. 
Dragging himself into the house through the long, arched doorway was no one but your own father. His drunken gaze skimmed over the crowd before instantly dropping on you. One quick and judgmental up and down look comprised his purpose; to make your life hell.
His suit was too tight on his body as he breathed sharply and made his way over to both you and Rafe. You avoided Rafe’s gaze entirely, not wanting to witness the narrow stare of his eyes.
“Dad!” You said softly, beginning to pull away from Rafe until he pulled you right back to him. Your fake smile must have been obvious because all you got from your father was a scoff and a judgmental glance before he stumbled into the party.
Rafe was already urging you out of the door by the time your mother came to tell you that it was time for cake, “your favorite!” She said with a squeal, motioning to a chocolate ice cream cake. 
Which wasn’t your favorite, but you’ve learned not to care. 
You got ushered to the large dining room, Rafe shuffling behind you and looking ready to kill anyone who took one step too close to your shaking body. All of your family surrounded the table, leaving barely enough room for you to fit in next to your fast-melting cake
A short and unorganized rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ was sung by the slurred voices of your family as you stood quietly, shyly smiling and feeling Rafe’s comforting hand holding yours. More cake was brought out to provide for all of the guests as your mother happily laughed with drunken joy.
Your piece was brought to you, a smaller slice than most. As you leaned down to grab your fork, you felt the plate leave your weak grip. Standing up in an instant, you were ready to pout at Rafe and tell him to get his own slice. However, you were met by your father’s mean and unforgiving stare.
“You don’t need… this.” He said plainly, obviously scanning your outfit and figure.
Tears swarmed your eyes as he spat more at you. Over time you had learned to tune him out, but you hadn’t heard his words for months now, nearly a year. 
“It’s disgusting that you walk into your mother’s house looking like a slut.” He said with a scoff, either unaware of the tears dripping down your face or choosing to ignore them (it was the latter).
“Thank god you have a boyfriend, hopefully he keeps you in your place.” Your father sneered as you vaguely watched Rafe push through the crowd to get back to you after he was pushed away in the cake swarm.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Your stare was blank when Rafe finally got to you, shoving your father away without hesitation and taking your purse from your slouching arm as he pulled you away from everyone. Rafe’s grip on your body was persistent as he took you through the house, through the front door, and eventually through his car door. You were still trying to tune out everything that had happened, proving to be non-responsive when Rafe begged you to answer his questions.
“C’mon princess, tell me what he said.” Rafe said through gritted teeth as one hand gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles and the other softly brushed over your palm.
The world was silent, your eyes deep and dull and you stared down at your pink heels when Rafe took you into Tannyhill.
“Hey, baby.. talk to me.” Rafe said gently, his thumbs already flicking away your tears as the two of you sat on the luxurious couch. His pleading voice eventually got back into your head and you nodded softly.
“Oh sweetheart..” Rafe whispered, starting to say something else before you let yourself fall back into him and bury yourself into his warm body. You hid away from the spiraling world as he whispered into your ear.
“I got you, princess. I’m here.” “Want you to only listen to my voice, don’t let him stay in your head.”
“I love you, sweetheart.” His lips peppered two soft kisses against both of your rosy, swollen cheeks before more tears poured out of your eyes. You were slowly coming back to yourself and Rafe couldn’t fully tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
Your body came to you in small tremors, your poor shoulders shaking as your sweet and honey-like voice rasped over with deep sobs. Rafe held you close, whispering gently into your ear for a while, eventually feeling you relax into his arms.
“I’m sorry I… I just-“ You started, trying to apologize for your sudden outburst.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Focus on me.” Rafe said, kissing you softly and smiling as he felt your sticky lip gloss smear against his lips.
You smiled back, suddenly focused on the way he looked down at you, opening his mouth to tell you more.
“Aw look at that..” He said, kissing your smile and grinning into the gentle contact before pulling away.
“What did I do to deserve you..” He whispered with adoration in his eyes as he scooped you right back up and held you to his chest.
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rileyslibrary · 11 months
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Ghost finds out that you never learned how to ride a bike.
A/N: Thank you for suggesting this, anon. I hope your mother-in-law bought you a bomb-ass bike with a basket at the front and everything.
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“No way.”
“Yes.”
“Not even once?”
“What do you mean ‘not even once’?”
The conversation started when the lieutenant entered your shared office with two fingers bandaged together. Before you could ask what happened, his eyes caught yours, and he instinctively raised his hand, displaying the injury.
He explained that it happened while he and a group of soldiers were repairing one of the barracks. His pinky got caught in a plumping pipe, and because of the noise, they couldn’t hear him yelling at them to stop pushing. So the medic immobilised the fractured pinky by securing it to the ring finger to restrict its range of motion and let it heal.
He reassured you that the damage was minor and nothing to be concerned about, but he appeared defeated by having to bear this for the time being. You wished him a speedy recovery and then addressed the elephant in the room—how would he be able to carry the drill exercise scheduled for tomorrow?
He shrugged and admitted that the exercise had to be cancelled for now. Still, that wouldn’t pose a problem since military procedures are deeply ingrained and not easily forgotten.
“It’s like riding a bike.” He said.
And that’s what struck your current discussion—when you sneered at his analogy and admitted that you wouldn’t know since you never learned how to ride one.
He now stands there, speechless, and looks at you like you’re an alien that just landed on his back porch.
“Did you try and give up, or no one taught you how?”
“Do I look like I give up easily, Lt.?” You ask and shrug with your right shoulder. “No one taught me how to ride one.”
His eyes soften, and he looks out the window.
“Jesus Christ, kid.” He mutters, “Guess we found something else to do for tomorrow.”
“No way.” You state, shaking your head.
“Yes.” He replies and nods.
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Ghost left you a note on your desk this morning.
It said “warehouse, 10 a.m.” which was both weird and funny, considering how cryptic that message was for the purpose of the meeting.
You approach the warehouse and attempt to open the door, only to find that it’s locked. Suddenly, a sharp “pst!” grabs your attention from nearby, prompting you to follow the voice that’s guiding you behind the building.
There stands Ghost, with a worn-out bike next to him. He’s hugging a helmet with his injured hand and holding pairs of knee, elbow, and wrist pads with the other.
“Where did you find that?” You ask, pointing to the bike.
“In this warehouse; I found it a couple of years ago,” he replies. “I didn’t want to throw it away, so I fixed it and left it there.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You call this ‘fixed’?”
“It may not be a fucking Bianchi, kid, but it gets the job done,” he says and extends the gear towards you. “Put these on,” he orders, “I’ll help you with the knee pads.”
He kneels down, gently tapping your leg, indicating you to lift it.
“Isn’t that a little excessive?” You ask, “All that safety gear?”
He huffs and looks up at you. “Do you want to end up with a fractured pinky like me?”
“No, sir.”
“Lift your leg then.”
He adjusts your helmet and secures the knee pads, ensuring they’re correctly positioned. Then, he inspects the elbow and wrist pads to ensure they’re in the right place. Finally, he gives the saddle a firm slap, indicating you to hop on the bike.
You do as instructed, and he checks the bike, adjusting the seat height, handlebars, and brakes to fit your size. With you gripping the handlebars, he begins the lesson.
“Two things,” he says, raising the corresponding fingers on his uninjured hand. “Balance and coordination.”
“Balance and coordination.” You echo.
He nods, puts his hands behind his back, and paces around the bike.
“We’ll begin with the first one, which happens to be the most challenging, I must warn you,” he explains, “and then progress to the rest.”
“Balance is the hardest one.” You repeat.
“Yes, indeed. First, you’ll have to learn how to balance on that bike. Once you succeed, we’ll synchronise your turning, pedalling, and braking movements. Ready?”
“Not really.”
“Let’s get started then.”
—————————— >> ———————————
He’s right. Balancing that thing is difficult. At first, he instructs you to use your feet to push yourself forward while seated on the bike, gradually progressing to longer strides.
Then he commands you to pedal. He walks next to you, holding one of the handlebars with his uninjured hand and guiding the bike to help with balance. Occasionally, when he feels you have control, he lets go of the handlebar. But every now and then, you waver. And when that happens, he intervenes and puts his hand back on the handlebar.
And this continued until he felt confident that you were ready to give it your first try.
“What if I fall?”
“You will fall.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“You have to,” he insists, “that’s the only way you’ll learn.”
He stands behind you, holding the back of the saddle. He maintains his grip as you pedal, stabilising and guiding the bike. He jogs beside you, encouraging you.
And yes, there were countless falls. But each time, Ghost was there, lifting you up, brushing off the dirt, and urging you to give it another try.
The lesson began at 10 a.m. You have no idea what time it is now. Ghost has been so persistent that he must have also lost track of time.
“Lt,” you call out as you pedal for the hundredth time, “I think it’s time for a break; you must be tired as well.”
No response.
“Lt.?” You repeat.
Silence.
You turn halfway to address him, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Panic sets in, throwing off your balance, and you tumble to the ground once again. This time, he’s no longer there to catch you.
You look back at your starting point—Ghost is standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
You look at the bike and then back at him. Your eyes widen. You point your finger at the bike, then at yourself.
He nods and lifts his hand in the air, giving a thumbs up.
“I did it!” You shout and run towards him, guiding the bike next to you.
“I saw,” he replies, and his eyes crease in joy, “but why didn’t you ride it back?”
“I think I need more practice.” You explain.
“We can continue practising after our break,” he suggests. “Good job, kid; I’m proud of you.”
“It’s all because of you, Lieutenant,” you say, “thank you for everything.”
He chuckles and tilts his head.
“Look,” he says, lifting his injured pinky. “This one needs support from this one to heal,” he explains, pointing to his ring finger.
“So I’m the pinky,” you say, “because you, the ring finger, taught me how to ride a bike.”
He lets out a sigh, shifting his gaze to the ground.
“Depends on who you ask,” he murmurs, “maybe I’m the broken one, and you’re helping me heal.”
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cutielando · 6 months
Text
out of line ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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Ever since you could remember, Ward had always been hard on Rafe. It might have been because he was his only son, it might be because he wanted him to mature early on, or it might be just because he hated his son.
At least that's what Rafe had come to believe.
Nothing he did ever seemed to be right. His father would always find faults in every single thing Rafe did, crushing the boy's morale every single time.
"I don't know how to please him anymore" he would always say when he came to you, all sad and unmotivated to even live.
You hated seeing your boyfriend like that. You hated the way Ward acted towards his son. You hated the fact that he always made Rafe feel bad about your relationship, always filling his head with thoughts that he didn't deserve you, that he should do you a favor and let you go because you would be better off without you.
It made your blood boil.
As you were laying on the couch in Rafe's home, his body laying on top of yours and your arms wrapped around his body, you were hoping to God that his father would not ruin your night.
"Rafe?" hearing Ward's voice made the both of you tense.
Rafe got up from laying on you and sat upright on the couch just as Ward walked in.
Eyeing you, you could see him clench his jaw and swallow harshly.
"Yes, dad?" Rafe said, clearing his throat and looking up at his father.
"What are you doing?" he asked, looking between the both of you.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, and you knew that Rafe was desperately weighing his answers to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing.
That is precisely why you decided to be the one doing the talking tonight, hopeful to finally give the older man a piece of your mind.
"We were watching a movie before you interrupted us" hearing you speak made Rafe's heart start beating rapidly.
He wiped his head around to look at you with wide eyes, but you kept eye contact with the older Cameron man.
"Excuse me?" his voice was dangerously low, but you weren't afraid of him and had no intention of backing down.
"You heard me. Do you want something with Rafe or not?" you asked, now standing up and stopping while face-to-face with him.
"You better watch your mouth, young lady" his threats fell on deaf ears, you were done cowering in fear of him.
Your family was the second richest one on the whole island, so you were also entitled to speak your mind seeing as you weren't a poor little Pogue afraid to speak in front of a Kook.
"That's funny, coming from the guy whose ego is so big he has to belittle his own son to feel better about himself" that struck a nerve.
Ward took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. His fists were pulsing, his veins were enlarged, he was on the verge of exploding.
But he knew better than that, he knew better than to make an enemy of your father. While Ward must think he's got the dangerous associates on the island, your father was by far more versed than him in that department. 
Your family might not have been the richest, but it was for sure the most dangerous one. And Ward knew that.
"How dare you?" 
"How dare I? How dare you look at your son, your own flesh and blood, and belittle him like he's a stranger to you? How can you stand there and insult him, make him feel worthless after how much he does to impress you, to satisfy you? And nothing ever seems enough. How dare you fill his head with lies about our relationship when you and I both know I am the only person who loves him and takes care of him. I am the only one who wants the best for him, not even you as his father? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you felt so good getting everything off of your chest.
Rafe was still speechless, still sitting behind you on the couch.
He was grateful for every word you had said, having conveyed everything he had been feeling but was too afraid to tell his father.
"You are way out of line here, bitch" he spit with venom in his voice.
Your eyes darkened and you stepped even closer to him, being almost face to face with him.
"Call me a bitch again and see what happens. We don't want to repeat what happened at Midsummers, now, do we? Or did you forget what my daddy did?" your voice now being dangerously low, knowing you had struck another nerve.
Ward visibly tensed, having remembered that your father had almost killed him in a fight when he insulted you at Midsummers while being intoxicated.
He cleared his throat and nodded, taking one last look at Rafe before turning around and leaving the house.
"Thank you" Rafe's small voice said as you next back next to him on the couch, unpausing the movie you had been watching.
"Never thank me for that. I want you to feel safe, and I was just telling the truth. You know my father has your back, he loves you and he would do anything for you" you told Rafe, who nodded.
Your father and him have had a very close and special relationship ever since you started dating almost 3 years prior. 
Due to the fact that you were an only child and your father had always wanted a son too, he treated Rafe like he was his own. He knew about his situation with Ward and always made sure he was being taken care of.
You sometimes thought your father liked your boyfriend more than you.
"I know, but still. Thank you for everything, you don't know how much I love you, baby" he leaned his body back on top of you, savoring your warmth and delicate touch.
"I love you too, so much"
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