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#cursed production tips
korvasound · 2 years
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cursed production tip: run everything through a vocoder and hope
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buck-yyyy · 1 year
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is it silly that i genuinely think learning to do my makeup is one of the best things i’ve ever done?
tags for an explanation-
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soyforramen · 2 years
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I keep reading posts about the biblical plaques and my brain keeps trying to force it into biblical plagues. So either the writers have dyslexia or they’re referencing the Saint Jaime Luna bible.
#🤷‍♀️ at some point I will catch up#until then#riverdale#also the plagues of Riverdale go#snakes falling from the sky but they’re based on FPS incorrect knowledge of snakes#all the milkshakes turn into maple shakes; Cheryl is beside herself with glee#bags of chips from the lastest product placement and there’s like#fifty up close shots of each flavor#that have nothing to do with the plot#but is just a cash grab#bonus points if one of the parents is chewing the scenery#the last born is given a ticket to ride the f*k out of town and never come back#sweet water runs red; at first they think it’s blood but then it turns out it’s just mine run off#the real curse is everyone turning into a redhead because of it and the joke is that they’re all now related to Archie#Veronica is immune tho because she washes her hair with alpine waters#there’s a sudden coffee shortage; normally this isn’t a problem but it makes Jughead infinite time more insufferable and cranky#Tabitha unleashes him on everyone who’s left a bad Yelp review#and on the truckers who tip terribly#there’s a plague of fog in the town and only pops diner sign cuts through it#that’s solved in half a day when they realize Reggie’s just being inconsiderate with the fog machine he brought out to make the dealership#scarier for their ‘scary low prices’ sale#(Betty plots to make the dealership the next location for SKC because why not? it’s free real estate)#there’s a minor infestation of maple syrup covered aliens on the lonely highway#this is mentioned once in passing; a pair of drably suited FBI agents take up space in the diner#the red head is always rolling her eyes at her partner who seems to deliberately try to goad her#he and Jughead become quick friends and neither is seen for a week; when they come back it’s never mentioned again#there a plague of fries that fly through the town#it takes three episodes for someone to realize the typo but by then there’s a new plague of nerds playing G&G on every available surface#I’m just saying lean into RAS#damnit tumblr and your 30 tag limit
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sweetnans · 12 days
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"Stop moving, I can't reach the knot!"
Katsuki was face down on the living's couch shirtless, while you were on top of him trying to get rid of that obnoxious knot that had him buzzing and complaining about his job and his age (nearly twenty-five)
"I bet you're enjoying this," he exclaimed, squirming against the couch.
You were, but it wouldn't be productive if you told him that.
"I just want to get you out of the pain, I know how it feels"
After a fight, Katsuki had the habit of coming home all bruised and beat. While those marks lasted a few days, the contractures stayed until he was barely able to move from the pain, wincing and struggling all over your shared apartment. You couldn't take it anymore.
If we talk about pain, he was a crybaby, but only if you were around to pamper him.
"Right there baby" he cooed pressing his head in one of the pillows.
"Don't you dare drool over my pillows, Bakugo Katsuki," you warned, pressing soft circles in his neck.
"Why don't we move this to the bed? I'm not comfortable anymore. " he tried to lift him and you up, but you pressed hard on one of the knots so he would remain still. "Fucking ouch! What's the problem with you?" he cursed under his breath. "Fucking hell, you almost kill me with that one"
A crybaby and a dramatic complainer, that was your boyfriend when no one was there to see him.
"We are not moving until we're done," you demanded while releasing other knots in different spots in his back. "I know your intentions. You feel like you are no longer in control here, and you are going to get your way on pinning me down in the bed, so no, we are staying here, so you better stay still or you're going to end up with more knots than the ones you started with"
You absolutely read your boyfriend's mind. Katsuki's back hurt like hell, and you were doing an excellent job, but his pride and his desire to be in charge again were more important than a few back problems.
"You are so stubborn," he said like he wasn't stubborn either.
"It takes one to know one." You pressed a gentle kiss in the nape of his neck before sticking the tip of your fingers in his tense muscles, gaining a pitched whine out of him.
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luvwestwood · 4 months
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❝ FROM ME, TO YOU ❞ - Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Suguru, Sukuna
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— (18+) HOW THE JJK MEN WOULD SPEND THEIR VALENTINE'S WITH YOU.
₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), (cw in order), food play, solo play, cheating/homewrecking, breeding, mildly dubious consent, multiple face slapping, rough sex, public play, discreet vibrator use, slight humiliation, public sex, oral sex(m/f rec), sex-tape making, anal, spanking, ass eating
₊˚༊*·˚ notes. valentines day gift from me 2 u lovelies!!! choso's one is so absurd. im sorry… not. hope u all enjoy, I had so much fun writing these... also the toji one had me creaming so it goes second. if any gifts were given by the men, i have kindly included specific links ^^
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Choso Kamo - "Sweet Surprise"
Choso being the sweetest boyfriend ever, loves to surprise you with a 'sweet' treat on Valentine's day. Taking his time to produce what he calls a 'signature' of his; homemade cinnamon rolls glazed in icing - his secret recipe that always has you wanting more.
"Baby, come here will you?" Choso calls from the kitchen, the comforting smell of cinnamon lingering around the entire home. "I've made your favorite!" He adds on, waltzing around the place with a pink frilly apron; portioning out the first piece for you. The apron was a funny gift you gave him for Christmas last year, since he loved cooking so much.
Stepping into the kitchen, you squeeze your eyes shut; taking in the comforting aroma. "Oh wow, it smells divine in here." Eyes opening again, you walk over to Choso, linking onto his forearm. His forehead all sweaty, your heart aches- it was probably from working so hard to make you these rolls for Valentine's day.
"Take a seat- you get first bite," he beams a smile down at you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. Peeling away from your grasp for a moment, he surges over to your typical seat, pulling the chair out like a gentleman.
You laugh as you sit down, Choso scooting the dished cinnamon roll closer to you. Your mouth watered— freshly baked, the cinnamon sugar perfectly melted, and the icing.. your favorite part.
Taking a huge bite, the glaze manages to stick to the tip of your nose; Choso cheesing across from you as he watches your every move. "..You like it?" something he loves to ask, as if your answer wouldn't be the same like every other time.
"Of course I do, Choso- you know that I'm never, ever going to say no." Using your finger to swipe the icing off your nose, you bring it to your mouth; completely devouring any bit of the sweetness you can get. "Mmph- baby, this is too good, did you do something different today?"
..He did, in fact, do something different. Wanting to make the rolls extra special just for you, Choso glazed them with his own icing.
— Earlier on, observing you were occupied enough to not notice; Choso stuffed the oven mitt into his mouth, hand softly jerking himself off over the tray of cinnamon rolls.
"..Ngh.. She's gonna love these," Choso grunts, his cheeks flushed with crimson, hand leisurely moving up and down his length. He wanted to ice these with love. Quietly whimpering into the mitt, his hand reaches up to the cabinet knobs for support, his body technically leaning against the counter. Eyes shut, still incessantly jerking off his cock, Choso was planning to milk himself dry.
The pace of his movements fluctuates, at the same time he tries to get off to the image of you eating the finished product; a thought that has his cock throbbing, leaking. Breathing gradually becoming more labored, he whines, trying to urge himself to cum - at least get that one bit out of him.
"F-fuck.." Choso curses through gritted teeth, canines desperately digging deeper into the fabric of the oven mitts. His balls relentlessly tighten as ropes of white spurts out from his tip, prettily decorating over the surface of the cinnamon rolls.
Brows furrowing invertedly, his mouth gapes; dropping the mitt completely. Unsatisfied, he analyzes them for a bit; until coming to the decision that it wasn't enough. "..Need.. more.."
He frantically scans around the kitchen, his eye landing on a fresh orange. Choso reaches for it from the fruit-basket, grabbing a knife nearby to slice it in half. Crafting a makeshift flesh-light, he praises himself at the innovative idea.
Choso's two fingers dig inside of the flesh, forcing open a fuckable hole. He lewdly licks off the acidic juice to refrain from doing any extra cleaning. Sliding his throbbing cock inside, a long sigh escapes his lips as the cool pulp wraps around his length. He begins to rut into the fruit; both thighs thudding against the counter.
"Ah.. ah... ngh-" Multiple feral groans come out in short, sharp pants; Buckets of sweat trickling down his skin, he imagines himself fucking into you; picturing the fruit as your tight hole, that only he gets to use.
"Gotta cum.. again.." Choso whimpers, watching his tip coming in and out from the other side of the fruit. "..Need.. to make her.. happy.." choking out between thrusts, he grips onto the orange tighter, the zesty flesh enclosing around him. It felt good, but it wasn't you. Though it had to do.
His cock glistens in the juice; length all wet and slippery— Choso tugs on the hem of his tank top bringing it between his teeth again, using it as something he could suppress his moans with.
Feeling himself reaching his high for the second time, a quiet symphony of whines and heavy breathing escaping through the fabric; Choso was just vocal, he can't help it. Biting down on his wrinkled hem had only resulted in it being stained with saliva.
Not a single mewl comes out of his throat. Choso helplessly grips onto the counters; pulling the orange off in an instance, throwing it to the side; his cock twitching around as even more spurts of thick cum leaks out of his tip. Sensibly, he finally uses a free hand to try and guides his cock so that it wouldn't go out of control.
Letting out a long breath, finally pleased; he peers down at the cinnamon rolls with pride. Lightly tapping his overworked cock against the flat of his hand, any remaining beads of his juices land inside of the tray.
"Ah.. H-Happy Valentine's baby..." Choso's voice shakily whispers; his entire body jittering from the final orgasm. Squeezing on his cock as he gives it one last stroke, he proudly sneers; pulling his pants back up.
Toji Fushiguro - "Home-wrecker"
[WARNING: cheating, sex with ex. you have been warned. This HAS been edited b/c a reader felt that it was giving r word, but that wasn't my intention; I deeply apologise for that! I got too carried away writing. If you would like to read the original, view the reblogs with your own discretion!]
Your fiancé was bound to come home at any moment. For Valentines, you planned to surprise him by waiting in bed dressed in a newly bought lingerie set.
Dolled yourself up, spritzed on a hypnotizing fragrance; you glanced at the clock, ten minutes until he pulls up in the driveway. Tonight, you looked irresistible.
Taking a shot of tequila that was set on your vanity, you shimmied off your satin robe, only to be left in the lacy red garments that complimented your body. Quickly, you slid on some matching stockings; attaching the top band to your garters.
The shot not helping at all, your heart still hysterically thumped against your chest as you laid yourself down on the bed; propping your head up with your fist.
Upon hearing the front door shut from downstairs, you breathed deeply; noticing that he was home a few minutes earlier, not that it meant anything.
"I'm in our room babe!" you called out, biting down on your bottom lip as you smiled, excitement now taking over your system at last.
You could hear the creaking of the floorboards as he climbed up the stairs; in which you anticipated the look on his face as soon as he sees you.
The walking stops, your bedroom door opening. Putting on your best, seductive face; had instantly turned into pure mortification— your ex, Toji, standing in the door frame instead.
"W-what the are you doing here?!" tugging at the bedsheets, you shield yourself with the blanket. "Get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops!"
His eyes pan around the room; the framed photo of you and your fiancé grabbing his attention. "Didn't have time to get you flowers though, apologies."
"You're gonna be in deep shit if he finds out you were here," you say, scooting yourself further back on the bed until your spine touched the headboard. "..Where is he anyway?"
Toji tuts, your words not affecting him in any way whatsoever. Furious, he cannot imagine your stupid fiancé having you all to himself tonight. "That doesn't matter, I had him sorted." he walks to your nightstand, facing the framed picture of you and your fiancé down onto the wooden surface. "Like he cares about you anyways. Saw him downtown with another chick the other day."
"I don't believe you. Out of all people, you think I would anyways?" you spat out, his face blank, and emotionless— "You've- you've changed, that's what. That's the reason I left you, FYI."
"Who got you this? Him?" he toys with your bra straps, gently tugging it down; the thin, red material hanging off your shoulder.
You ignore his question, "We can't-," saying in a short breath, he stops. "..You had a year to solve this. All of it." Tears welling up in your eyes, his gaze softens— the voice inside of his head mentally cursing at himself for losing you. "..I'm literally getting married next summer.."
His fingertips reach under your chin, "..Then let me make it up to you," Toji studies your features, his heart aching. "..I'll give you what I failed to- back when we were dating." Voice laced with authenticity, his lips hovering over your skin. "..Please?"
Your hands move forward, tugging at his soft, raven strands. You had to think about it, but fuck, was it the liquor?"..Fine- You have one chance. One." your words end in a whine, Toji eager as you gave him the green light— pulling the waistband of his pants down. His cock springs free; so heavy and girthy. One chance, he had to make the most of it.
"I missed you so much," he whispered, placing a pattern of love bites all of your skin like a canvas, "..This pussy, and you- all of you." and a suck and tug at your clit, "I was stupid for letting go of us." Toji places a peck on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your pooling cunt. "So stupid."
Your lips quivers at his words, would all of this really be worth the consequence? You knew better, why didn't you kick him out? Hell, call the police? Right, you'd eventually come looking for him, but he somehow managed to do it all before you.
Stripping off his black tee, Toji mills it somewhere across the room; arousal between your legs at his defined physique. Gasping as he effortlessly dragged you off the bed, the two of you stand up, your legs encompassed around his slim torso. You finally loosen yourself to him, intertwining your tongues at your own will.
You could feel the tip of his cock graze against your folds, Toji trying to sink you down onto his length. After a few seconds of being a tease, he slides into you, both groaning at the sensation of your walls wrapped closing him for the first time in what feels like ages.
Toji murmured into your neck, walking the two of you over to your vanity mirror; his cock lodged inside of your hole. Not only did he get bigger in relation to muscle, but his dick size too. "Seems like the fiancé wasn't fucking you right."
He glances over to the reflection of you cradled around his body like a sloth, and shortly after, he begins to rut his hips up into you. Your tits bounce as he does, Toji growling as he continuously snapped into your hole; balls hitting against your skin.
His hands roam around the surface of your ass; Toji drilling into you, after not having your pussy for so long. He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste— he was going to prove himself right. The sex just felt ten times better tonight, possibly due to how scandalous the circumstances were.
"Fuck," he mumbled, your forehead falling heavy onto his muscular shoulder. You bit onto his skin, moaning endlessly at Toji rearranging your guts. He didn't allow this though, the man firmly striked his palm against your ass from below, causing you to withdraw your head back off his shoulder.
Filthy sounds of sex echoed throughout the room, Toji using you like a ragdoll, he devilishly grunts. Unsatisfied, he lays you against the vanity top— his cock not sliding out of you, and he remains between your legs.
Placing one hand on your hip, the other resting on the mirror's frame; Toji bucks himself mercilessly into you, the vanity rocking against the wall. "..Pussy too good," his head falls back, enthralled, moving back down to watch as his hand eagerly grabs onto your boob— a few products falling off the vanity from how hard he was fucking you.
"T-Toji.." you choke out, head about to burst from the pressure building up inside of you, Toji fucking into your gummy walls; my, did he fuck you good. Always. You could feel him filling every inch of you, the veins on his cock kissing against your insides.
Toji lays a hand on your cheek, swiping a thumb across your face. "You can take it," he cooed, "I know you can-" At this point, he has turned feral, but refused to hurt you. Minute orbs of sweat drenching his forehead, his hair becoming spiky at its ends.
You chant his name repeatedly, clawing at his back; leaving marks of crimson just like your torn garments. Toji's bends down closer; index and thumb lightly gripping onto your jaw. "Look at me, come on- I wanna see your pretty face,"
No intention to stop, Toji reaches for your hand; yanking the engagement ring off your finger, throwing it across the room. "I'll get you a better one, y'don't need that anymore."
His forehead intimately rests against yours, "We'll go- somewhere far," voice cracking, he holds onto you tightly; keeping you close to him. "How about we start fresh, hmm?" Toji's movements slow, and passionate; "Answer me baby- I wanna hear it from you,"
"Yes, yes- fuck- I'll do it," your eyes flickering, struggling to stay open. "Just- I'm.. I'm gonna cum,"
"Give it to me", he moaned out, voice trembling. "..Let it all out-" Toji's words like a spell, you shuddered around his length, your plush walls convulsing uncontrollably. He grunts in response, at the same time he hurriedly pulls out, ropes of white decorating your lower abdomen.
"…God damn," he sighs, your eyes shutting— Toji toys with his cock, slapping the tip against your clit. He smiles, planting a tender peck on your lips; giving your tits a slap. Massaging the plump on your thigh, he attempts to soothe your nerves; until something that he says takes you by surprise.
"..Oh yeah, your ex-fiancé is in the basement. How 'bout round two in front of him all tied up?"
Satoru Gojo - "A Heart(-throbbing) Night Out"
Two years ago, what you would have assumed an innocent, couples picnic in a floral field— ended up with him pounding you as the bees watched; still, you can recall the countless insect bites that appeared all over your legs.
Last year, you both went to Greece; Satoru treating you to a lush hotel that included a private pool looking over the coast. A pool, where he ate your ass out while you took in the beautiful scenery of Santorini.
And.. this year, it was something— different. The plan your boyfriend had laid out for this exact Valentine's was, you having a remote controlled vibrator inserted inside of you as the two of you go out for an intimate dinner date.
It took you a lot of convincing, but Satoru swore not to turn it on at the most inconvenient of times. Though he had a thing for public humiliation, so you didn't quite trust his words.
"This, it's- I love it, Satoru. Thank you." The two of you laced your hands together, yourself in awe with the venue he had chosen for tonight. Satoru flew you guys out to New York for Valentine's- in which he chose a rooftop restaurant, serving the finest food out there. Knowing this place was hard to book in with, you could only appreciate it even more.
Satoru kisses your fingers in the palm of his hand so lovingly, "I'm glad baby." Grinning, your eyes travel around his body, taking in the outfit you had bought, and picked for him tonight. That was the one thing he let you do for him. Satoru paid for your nails this week, hair and clothes; hell, even for today. You were like his doll.
"You look so beautiful, you know that?" Voice low, though you can hear him apart from the murmurs around you. Red tints your cheeks, Satoru flashing his pearly whites at your reaction.
"Oh stop it, Satoru.." You swat his hand away, relaxing against the back of your seat. He lets out a laugh, loving how flustered you tend to get at times. Due to his gushy behavior, you had completely forgotten about the bullet vibrator that was stuck inside of you right now.
"..Here's to us," Satoru holds out his glass of Pinot noir, looking at you from across the table so lovingly. Holding out your own in return, he smiles, as they both harmoniously clink together.
"To us," you responded. Retracting your hand, you take a sip; the tannic aftertaste lingering down your throat. Satoru slices the steak in front of him. You prod at your pasta with a fork, twirling it around. Before you could speak further, he shoves a bite-sized piece of steak into your mouth, saying 'ahh,' prior.
Having to chew out of your own will, you gnaw at the meat endlessly, Satoru taking glances at you from time to time.
"What's wrong?" he continued, "Something wrong with your food baby?" Satoru set his cutlery down, leaning in closer over the table.
"..Huh? Nothing is wrong?" Confused, you furrow your brows; when out of the blue, a buzzing sensation emits from between your legs. Your boyfriend watches as your mouth slightly gapes open, legs crossing over one another. A prideful grin plasters onto his face, as he watched you act all disheveled right in front of him.
Eyes widening, Satoru's eyes glint with faux concern. "No- no, let me call over the waiter. Hold on," Having the desire to toy with you even more, he raises a hand, hollering for some assistance.
Pleading quietly across the table, he ignores you; "S-Satoru, I'm fine-just please, turn it off.." You feel him increase the vibration level, the same waiter approaching you from before. Whimpering, you claw at the edge of your seat, Satoru watching you with the corner of his eye.
"..Is everything okay here?" The waiter checks on you both, meanwhile, you were using up most of your strength to suppress any sort of noise; thighs uncontrollably resorting to stamping together.
Satoru smiles, making up a white lie on the spot. "My girlfriend loves the wine you recommended to us, don't you baby?"
Trying your best to suppress a moan, you refrain from jittering in your seat; finding it difficult to string together some words. "Y-yeah.. it's amazing.." A mewl slipping past your lips, you quickly cover up your noises by pretending to clear your throat.
"We'd love to bring the whole bottle out," Satoru furthers your suffering, in which you were begging for the waiter to finally go away. Approving of his request, they head back to the kitchens; finally leaving you two alone.
As soon as they had left, you moan into your napkin; Satoru subtly chuckling at your behavior. "Can't take it?" He mockingly coos, watching as one hand of yours grips the corners of the table. "Don't you make a mess, you wouldn't want that, right?"
Hysterically shaking your head side to side, you pinch the top of your nose bridge with your thumb and pointer finger; mind completely clouding. "Fuck- turn it off, I beg you-.."
Satoru's hand slides across the table cloth, intertwining with yours. He caresses the flat of your hand tenderly, feeling how your grip tightens as he fluctuates the intensity of the vibrations. "..Can't even keep quiet," he adds on, "..'ts got my cock so hard," Satoru thankfully whispers the end of his sentence, the waiter hurriedly coming back with the full bottle of wine.
They both nod at each other, followed by Satoru pouring more wine in your glass. Your forehead rests against your knuckles as you continue to poke at the food; your boyfriend suddenly getting up from his chair. Your head began to spin, you were no longer in a state to interact with others anymore.
Instantly hauling your eyelids up, you panic, in fear of what he would do next. "..S-Satoru, what are you doing?.." You loudly sigh, heels tapping against the ground as he puts the vibrator at it's max; the coil in your abdomen threatening to snap. The wine, the stimulation the toy gives you and Satoru himself was really messing with your insides.
He walks over to your beside, kneeling shortly after, at this point you felt like you were going to faint. Satoru, from his pocket, draws out a tiny box wrapped in the familiar Tiffany & Co mint blue.
Your heart rapidly pounds against your chest; overwhelmed by what possibly could be your impending orgasm, and the stunt Satoru was pulling off right now.
"A-are you crazy?!" you peered down at him with genuine disorientation, chest heaving frantically. Everybody around not helping, they turn to watch the sentimental moment before them.
The pace at which your foot taps gradually gets faster and faster, Satoru beaming his pearly whites as he flicked the box open. A ring sparkles from the cushion, and tears begin to stain your cheeks. Being that it was a good opportunity to let it all out, everyone would have assumed you were overwhelmed by his proposal, and not the vibrator lodged inside of you.
Satoru lays his palm upon your bare leg, massaging it carefully; only adding onto your arousal— his demeanor making you feel as if he was telling you to let it all out, in both ways.
"My beautiful girl, I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he takes into account the priceless expression on your face, "You make me feel like the happiest man in the world."
Fanning your face with your fingertips, hot tears stream down your face nonstop. It took a lot in you to not moan out loud for everyone to hear, Satoru truly trying his best not to let out a laugh; "..Will you marry me?"
The constant vibrations going at high speeds inside of you urge that same coil to finally snap. His hand massages your calf gently, and you groan, slamming your fist down onto the table.
"F-Fuck! yes!" Unexpectedly, you curse at the intense high washing over you, Satoru leaning in for a passionate kiss. Relieved as his lips latched onto yours, you whimper; a sense of relief coming upon you as he does so. The applause and cheer of the audience all around allowing you to make as much noise as you want.
Your face hot, Satoru pulls away, wetness from your climax pooling in your underwear; your now, fiancé sliding the ring on your finger. The vibrations come to a halt, and you grab onto the back of your seat in relief— Satoru cunningly grins for only you to see.
"..Think I'll have my dessert at home."
Kento Nanami - "All (Tie)d Up"
Valentine's day with Kento was intimate this year. Tonight, you've prepared his favorite home-cooked meal; steak and mushrooms. The steak, medium rare and the mushrooms, preferably sauteed.
You thought it was perfect, Kento actually had gone on a mission today, so as soon as he came home; you'd be waiting for him— wearing the dress you wore on your first date, and mellow Elta James on the record player in the living room.
As a gift, you've gotten him a brand new tie. Kento loved his ties, all which were bought by you— from simplistic, to funky; yet the one you got for him today was an intricately embroidered tie in taupe, with your initial threaded on inbetween the designs.
You smiled at the box before ribboning it back up, anticipating for the moment Kento arrives home; which would be any second now. And correct, the twist of a knob sounds from the front door; with you hurriedly prancing around the kitchen table to piece together the finishing touches.
"Darling?" Kento slid his shoes off, neatly stowing them away in the cloak room. "I'm home," his hair no longer gelled back, instead some loose strands fall onto his forehead. He smiles as soon as he heard the record player faintly on in the living room.
The smell of his favorite dinner met with his nostrils, Kento following the aroma, being led into the kitchen. His eyes glimmered with content as he saw you waiting in front of the candle lit dinner, glasses of wine ready to go; and you, you looked breathtaking.
"..Beautiful, what's this?" he cheesily grinned, looking around the kitchen; watching as you approached him with a smile on your face.
"Kento, didn't you forget? It's Valentine's Day! You've been so busy that yo-" cut off abruptly with him leaning down to give you a peck on your lips, he pulled away, hushing you.
"Of course I didn't forget," Kento pulled a bouquet with your favorite flowers from behind his back, the man laughing as you rolled your eyes at him. He pulled you into a hug as soon as you took the bouquet from him, Kento leaving yet another kiss, this time, on your cheek.
The two of you walked over to the table, Kento swiftly placing his briefcase on the kitchen island. He still rushed over before you could sit down, pulling the chair out for you.
Both finally take their seats, Kento melting at the amazing food you've taken the time to prepare tonight. He glanced at you for approval before digging in, and you nod.
Pouring wine into his glass first, you do yours second. Unable to help yourself, lovingly watching his every move instead of eating your own dinner. "How's the food, is it alright?"
"It's perfect," Kento takes your hand into his, tenderly kissing on your fingers, indulging in your scent. "I'm truly lucky to have a woman like you."
The atmosphere goes quiet for a short duration, only the sound of the record player echoing throughout the home. "..I have a surprise," you both say in unison; breaking out into laughter after.
"You go first," you say, Kento disagreeing. "No, ladies first." The two of you playfully squabble before Kento gives in, walking over to his briefcase on the counter to pull out a navy, leather box, before making his way back to you.
He sits down, placing it on the table for you to open. Your eyes flicker, seeing Graff all over the ribbon. "Go on, have a look," Kento encourages you to see for yourself, his stomach fluttering.
You look at him hesitantly before opening the box, your hand covering your mouth as you gasp, a diamond necklace glimmering with the candlelight.
"Kento.." your body sank down into the seat, the man anticipating for your final reaction.
"Is it the right one? I recall you pointing at that in the magazine the other week." Your heart melted, at Kento's ability to remember the littlest things about his loved ones.
You pulled him into a hug, his large arms closing around you, engulfing your body completely. "..Thank you, I love it so much.." His amber, woody scent pleasant to your nose.
His hand caressed the back of your hair in the midst of the embrace, Kento mumbling into the crook of your neck. "You deserve it, you really do."
Pulling away, Kento reaches for the necklace, the two of you smiling as you both stood up. You faced your back towards him, bunching up your hair as he wrapped his arms around your frame, clasping the necklace behind your neck.
"..Perfect," he whispers, Kento places his hands on your waist, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.
You giggle, turning back to face him, "Okay, don't forget I have a gift for you too!" He peels his hands off your hips to roam on your back, watching as you reached for your own square box on the side of the table.
Handing the box over to him, he takes it into his possession. Tugging at the ribbon, he takes it apart; the box opening to a bespoke tie. His index finger traces over your initial, a genuine grin appearing on his face.
“I love it so much,” his hand wraps around your body, bringing you in for another hug. Kento pulls the tie out of its box, familiarly wrapping the garment around his hand.
Lost in the moment, Kento leans in for another kiss as a thank you, but this time; it’s more passionate.
Your tongues intertwine with each other, teasingly fighting for one’s dominance, his tie wrapped hand guiding you to sit atop the table. You whine into the kiss; sexual tension lingering through the air.
Kento mindfully moves the food and candles away from your surroundings, not wanting to put the two of you at risk.
Gasping, his lips latch onto your neck, leaving sweet, meaningful kisses all over your body. You were like a reward. Your fingers tangle his golden hair, slowly travelling down his broad chest, stopping at the buckle of his belt.
He groans, hearing the sound of metal undo, watching as your hands bypass the hem of his boxers, Kento doing his gifted tie around your neck.
He ravels the fabric around his palm again, the tie on your neck tightening, but only slightly choking you.
Hopping off the dinner table, you kneel, your eyes setting onto his above. The tie on your neck tightens as soon as you pull his thick cock free, which ended up heavily resting on the flat of your cheek.
He grunts, heart doing backflips as he watched you smother his warm length all over your face; Kento impatiently slapping his tip against your lips.
Breath hitching as soon as he pushes all inches slowly into your mouth; his head falling back at your wet, hot chamber enclosing around his cock.
“..Fuck..” he whispered, pushing further down your throat; balls throbbing at the gagging noises continuously slipping past your lips.
“Good girl.. take all of it.” He praises, tears welling up in your eyes from how Kento was stuffing your mouth completely, to the point you could barely breathe.
His hips cheekily began to rock back and forth, cock fucking into your throat; the gagging noises amplifying. Your hands reached to the back of his slacks for support, your eyes squeezing shut.
Kento’s hands let go of the tie, instead he grabs your face; pushing your head down onto his cock; relentlessly fucking into your mouth.
“Ah..” he let out a laboured sigh, buckets of spit dribbling down your chin and onto your dress; Kento swiping over your cheekbones as he uses your throat like a fuck toy. “Such a good doll for me, aren’t you?”
You hum in approval around his cock, eyes rolling from arousal. The vibrations of your throat heighten his stimulation, Kento pulling on the tie to remove you off his slob covered length.
Coughing, Kento wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs as he brought your chin up, telling you to open wide; dropping a fat orb of spit into it.
Not ordering you to swallow, he instead pushes his cock back into your mouth— Kento whimpering as the rutting of his hips become staggered.
“Gonna need you to swallow all my cum,” he chokes out, “Think you could do that for me?”
Nodding eagerly, Kento smiles at your reaction. The 10k necklace sparkling on your collarbone with pride.
His thrusts transition into slow, considerate movements; large hands holding tightly onto either sides of your head. Kento groans, bottoming his cock into your throat; his pelvis just touching the tip of your nose.
Your eyes enlarge, and shut as soon as you feel his warm ropes reach down the back of your throat, Kento sighing in satisfaction. Ever so slowly pulling his cock out of your throat, a long, string of spit forms between you two, Kento gently caressing the back of your head.
Slapping the tip against your lips, he lets out any remaining beads of cum; Kento gently brings you off the ground, taking you in for one last, filthy kiss.
Unsatisfied with how he left you, Kento, without hesitation, pushes your back down onto the dining table, your two legs resting on each side of his torso.
You giggle, Kento bunching up your dress at your hips, tutting as he saw you weren’t wearing any underwear. “You naughty girl..” He sucks some air through his teeth, giving your pussy a slap with the leaking tip of his cock.
“I’m gonna put it in now. That okay?” He makes sure, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you chug down your glass of wine, Kento reaching for his to do the same.
He loosens the already tie on his neck, hands on your thighs to sink you onto his cock; Kento’s signature Tag Heuer strapped onto his wrist. The watch stays on.
Quietly grunting, he slowly moves in and out of you; his fists resorts to pressing down on either sides of your waist.
“Faster Ken-, please..” you manage to whisper, Kento leaning in closer against your body.
His hips piston into you at an unreal pace, the dining table’s legs screeching against the floors; the table itself beginning to move across the room.
“Fuck- fuck, fuck..” Kento curses under his breath, his hands shakily holding onto your waist— whimpers coming from him as you convulsed around his cock.
The cutlery on the table begins to scoot to the edge from his brutal thrusts, your tits threatening to bounce out of the neckline of your dress; Kento doing you a favour by taking them out himself.
“Look at me princess,” he cooed, grabbing your cheek; tenderly swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “Come on, look at me, you’re taking my cock so well.”
You whine, grabbing at his tie to pull him closer, aching to have his lips back onto yours for the millionth time. He groans in the midst of the make out session, you were practically moulding into each other.
His forehead rests against yours, Kento looking into your eyes as he fucked into you, passionately. “Tell me baby, t-tell me you want my cum- I’ll give it to you,”
Kento’s voice cracking, warm tears begin to stain your cheeks, ruining your makeup; his hands fast enough to wipe them away.
“P-please, Ken- I need..” you say, unable to finish the rest of your sentence; your cock fucked mind having difficulty to string some words together.
Keen to get the words out of you, he pushed you to your limits. “What is it- come on- use your words..” He drastically slows down his movements, in order for you to sound some words properly.
“..I need your cum inside of me..” you squeal the last of your half-said sentence, Kento planting a kiss on the top of your head before standing back up between your legs.
“I’m gonna cum,” Kento bites down on his lips, his grip on your thighs intensifying; fingertips digging into your skin.
He uncontrollably whines, bottoming into your hole as he loses his own mind; cock twitching like mad as he pumped his seed into your womb.
You both attempt to regulate your breathing, the sound of the record player still on up to this very moment. His cock slides out of your hole, Kento peering down at his load dripping out of your pussy, making a mess below.
“We better finish this food…” he says, Kento helping you get back on your feet. As if you two would be able to carry on with dinner like normal anyways.
Suguru Geto - "Picnic Dick"
For Valentine's this year, both you, and Suguru planned on having a car boot picnic. The weather was absolutely perfect, and you two visited at sunset. In addition, your one contribution was making the charcuterie board; which you truly loved to do.
After having a light bite, you both agreed to play around in the water; the tides still calm at this hour.
"The water is cold, Suguru!" you squeal, your boyfriend splashing droplets at you, causing you to squirm around. He laughs, in return you splash back; Suguru charging towards you.
"Don't come close to me!" You scream, feet wading in the water with all your strength. Speeding up, you were close enough to the shore— until a pair of soaking forearms wrap around your waist; taking you off your feet, heading for the sands.
"You're not going anywhere," Suguru teases, his grip tight around your stomach. You playfully jitter in his hold, the two of you falling back down on the picnic towel; breaking out into genuine laughter.
He remains hovering on top of you, your back resting against the soft material of the towel— Suguru tucking strands of hair away from your face to get a better look at you. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, in return you attempt to cover your face with your hands; flustered.
Suguru grabs your wrist to get them out of the way, leaning in for a tender kiss. What was a soft peck, turns into a longer, hungrier kiss. You, still being in his embrace, Suguru stills his knee intimately between your legs— a noise coming from your throat as he swiped his tongue on your lips.
"Mmph," you moaned, pulling away for a short duration, "There's people all around us,"
Suguru's lips leave yours, latching onto your jaw instead, leaving a trail of loving kisses behind. "Wrong, there's no one here at all," you feel him smirk against your neck, his hands roaming and massaging at your waist.
Ticklish, you giddily laugh, "Okay, but what if someone comes in the next five minutes?" Your hands rake through his strands the more he went lower down your body with the kisses, Suguru guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he came to a halt between your legs.
"Then I'll be done with you in four," Suguru grabs your thigh, massaging it gently; placing a warm kiss directly on your soft skin. His head goes underneath your mini-skirt, as you hysterically look around the environment for any people. Fortunately, nobody was here.
You feel his finger tug at the hem of your thong, attempting to pull it to one side. But he doesn't, and instead licks over the fabric, your voice trembling as you sigh out his name. He continues to lap at the material; humming in response to you calling for him.
The sound of the waves crashing against each other put you in a state of euphoria, Suguru finally pulling your panties to one side; kitty licking at your clit.
Back arching against the blanket, you were breathless; Suguru gently fucking the tip of his tongue into you. Hands leaving his strands, you fondle with your breasts, your boyfriend groaning against your folds as he ate you out. From time to time, he'd stick a digit in, curling his fingers up inside of your plush walls.
Your head heavily falls to the side; a few people in the distance catching your eye. You frantically tap on Suguru's head over the fabric of your skirt, he remains occupied against your folds.
"Sug- Suguru, there's people coming. Get up baby," you prop yourself up on your elbows, your boyfriend firmly gripping onto the soft of your thighs; not allowing you to get up.
"Don't mind them," he responds, unbothered, busy alternating between sucking and fucking a finger or two into you.
You whine, back falling onto the towel for a second time; your legs clamping around Suguru's head. Returning to fucking his tongue into you, he lazily rubs circles on your sensitive bud with a thumb. Looking to your side once more, you see the people gradually getting closer; and it seems like they have no clue yet.
"Let it all out on my face," you hear him plead from under your skirt; your mouth forming an o, brows furrowing as the thumb on your clit was replaced by his tongue. He sucks, eyes closed as he eagerly waits for you to decorate his face with your juices.
Until, Suguru arises from your skirt; folding you into a mating press position, your entire pussy on show as he continues to lap at your throbbing cunt.
"W-what are you doing?!" you cry out, chest heaving as your legs shudder, Suguru relentlessly curling his digits up into you; pleasantly enjoying your warm juices covering his chin.
He groans against your folds; shirt collar soaked with you. Retracting his head from between your legs, he gently places your feet off his shoulder; the two of you looking in the same direction.
The people who were gradually coming closer, have turn around and ran away.
"So I was working like a sex machine for nothing? Just for them to turn around?" he sighs, licking around his mouth to clean anything left behind.
You haul your head up, rolling your eyes; Suguru still anchored between your legs. "Better safe than so-" You suddenly shriek, Suguru flipping you over on your stomach— rising your skirt up and giving your ass a spank.
He yanks your thong down, grabbing you by the waist— Suguru keenly pulls his cock out of his pants, his hand pressing down on the flat of your back.
"You couldn't wait until we got home?" you teased, your mischievous behavior set straight by the time Suguru slid himself in.
Hands grabbing at the sand, his hips rock into you at a brutal pace; your ass ripping against his pelvis. Suguru was practically fucking you into the ground; your body wanting to give up at times, but he decides to place his hand below your abdomen, pressing down and supporting you at the same time.
"Oh f-fuck," you whimpered, overstimulated by the additional pleasure his cock was giving you. Suguru places hands on either side of your waist, technically fucking you back onto his girthy cock. He was pussy whipped.
"You feel how deep I am?" he grunts, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your chin falling flat onto the towel.
A spank lands on the surface of your ass; Suguru pulling you against his chest by the scalp. "Answer me," he whispers into your ear, the sound of skin slapping blending in with the sounds of the beach.
"T-too deep," you choke out, Suguru leaning more backwards; his cock fucking up into you now. His hands roam all over your chest, squeezing away at your tits as he postponed into your overstimulated hole.
You reach behind to lock your arm around his nape, Suguru placing kisses on your jaw, his movements becoming slow, but still rough.
"I'm gonna cum again.." breathless, your words come out in a mutter; Suguru's method of fucking turning into more relaxed, passionate love making.
He purrs into your ear, hands reaching down to trace shapes on your clit yet again. "You need to cum?" his tone warm, and gentle; "..do it baby, come on,"
Your head falls back onto his shoulder, dazed; no longer taking into account the environment around you. Exhausted, you shudder for the second time; Suguru enticingly mumbling sweet nothings into your ear.
"That's it.." he pants heavily against your skin, "..Let it all out for me," followed by his seed filling you up entirely; your boyfriend whimpers at his own overwhelming orgasm.
Suguru keeps you in his embrace, cock still lodged into your hole. Placing a few more kisses down your back, his hands snake down your sides; length slipping out of your used hole.
You look behind you, eyes widening as you saw the tides getting closer; soaking almost the corner of the towel.
"..Suguru, we need to go!" you clamour, swiftly grabbing your thong off the ground, Suguru yelling as he reached for your picnic gear, and shoes.
Sukuna Ryomen - "Take a photo so it lasts"
It had finally come, the day your boyfriend had eagerly been waiting for.
Why? After long, restless days of Sukuna begging to make a sex tape, the two of you had agreed to exclusively do it on Valentine's Day. And you promised. It was a mutual disclosure, that the tape would only be for your own eyes to see.
Without even realising, February 14th had finally come upon you, Sukuna even providing a fresh, new lingerie set; on him. You both had even rented out a luxury hotel, just to be extra.
"You ready to come out?" Sukuna yells from the bedroom, meanwhile you were adding a few finishing touches to your look in the bathroom. His hands were fiddling away with the camera, making sure it was good to go.
You step out of the bathroom, his camera immediately panning to you; a free hand palming himself through his boxers. Giving the camera a twirl, his cock leaks at the sight of you in the sheer babydoll dress he bought; no bra, no panties. Just your nipples peeking through the material.
A low, throaty groan comes from his throat; watching as you came closer to the edge of the bed. "Crawl to me baby," he orders, in which you obey, Sukuna smiling behind the camera as you slowly, made your way closer to him.
Stopping at his feet, you kneel, fondling with your breasts through the sheer material; Sukuna patting at his lap for you to take a seat.
You do as he says, your bare pussy rubbing against his rock hard bulge, causing moving your hips slowly. Sukuna focuses the lens on your upper half, his fingers tugging at the neckline of your dress; tits spilling out immediately.
"Fuck, those tits," Sukuna curses, turning the camera around as he latches his mouth onto your nipple; tongue swirling around the bud. You moan, raking your hands through his coral ends; hips moving faster against him.
Sucking until they go numb, his warm mouth leaves your chest; Sukuna postioning the camera on the nightstand next to the bed. He eagerly diverts his attention back to you, lips needily locking onto each other; his large hands squeezing at the plump of your ass.
Giving it a light spank, you squeal, playing with the hem of his briefs; yearning for his cock to come out. His hand grips onto your wrist, stopping your actions. "Don't rush," he whispered, holding onto your waist to flip you around; completely bending you over.
The camera perfectly captures your bare pussy on display— Sukuna spreading your two cheeks; his tongue gliding through your folds, up to your asshole.
You shriek, breaking out into a moan, the feeling of his hot tongue against your ass tickling you. "S-Sukuna!" you whine at the foreign feeling, his hand drawing back and striking your left cheek; a red imprint stays behind.
He flips you around effortlessly again, Sukuna grabbing the camera off the nightstand; holding it in one hand as he watched you eagerly yank down his briefs.
"Look at this slut," he focuses the camera on your face, your hands reaching immediately for his cock. His degrading words amplifying the arousal between your legs.
Taking his length into your hands, you lick at his tip gently, eyes peering into the camera. One hand incessantly travels up and down his shaft, your mouth stuffed with his big cock.
Spit bubbles form at his tip, the rest dribbling down towards his balls. "Shit.." he moaned, his free hand clawing at your scalp, hips bucking into your mouth like a cock sleeve, your head bobbing up and down.
Tears blur your vision, needing a bit of air you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking an outrageous amount of air through your nose. He firmly pulls you off his cock, his length twitching at your helpless gasping; Sukuna giving your cheek a slap.
"Look at the camera baby," he grabs you by the hair again, properly placing your face in the frame. "Show the camera how cock drunk you are, and I didn't even put it in yet."
A sinister smile spreads across his face, Sukuna letting go of you completely as he falls back against the pillows, head resting on the headboard. "Come on," he jerks his red, aching cock, menacingly slow. "Since you want it so bad, come sit on it," Sukuna sways his cock side to side with his fingers, camera glued on you as you scrambled onto his lap.
He places the camera back on the nightstand, watching as you use your hands attempt to line his cock up with your needy hole. Pussy hovering over his tip, Sukuna impatiently sinks you down on him completely, wails escaping your mouth from how girthy he was.
Your hands claw at his bare chest, laying just atop his inked markings. "Move those hips baby," he purred, grunts laced with gratification as you began to bounce on his cock.
"Just like that," he hissed, reaching to play with your breasts; your hand resting on his thigh behind you as he stuffed you full of his cock.
Every inch of him you managed to take. "You can do better than that," he teased, taking in how breathless you immediately have gotten in just such a short duration.
"Tired already?" Sukuna points out, his tone mocking and offensive. He grabs the camera off the nightstand, bringing it behind your back, getting a better focus on his cock pushing in and out of you.
The soles of his feet place firmly on the mattress, Sukuna resorting to fucking his cock mercilessly into you at his own will. Your voice shaking from his brutal pace, his tip bullying your cervix.
"S-sukuna, p-please," you whimper, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, eyes rolling to the back of your head; fapping noises coming from below.
“Please what?” Unsatisfied, he bucks deeply into you once, before transitioning you into a mean mating press, Sukuna placing the camera behind him to get a good shot of his cock drilling into you. “Don’t you tap out,”
He pistons his girth into your squelching, tight hole at an inhumane pace, your cries echoing throughout the hotel room. "Take this fucking cock baby, fuck- you feel so good 'round me."
His heavy balls endlessly slap against your asshole, manicured nails scraping against the skin of his back; leaving trails of crimson behind.
Sukuna growls at the feeling of you clenching around him, the bed creaking like crazy as you took him whole. His hands took a hold of your ankles as he pulled away from you, his cock entirely slipping out of your throbbing hole, and this time, he puts it into your ass.
You cry out loud; loud enough for the entire hotel floor to hear, "Ngh-, too big," your hand immediately slapping over your mouth to suppress any other noise. Sukuna found it difficult to thrust into your tight ass, his movements becoming slow, but deep.
Hips rolling into you passionately, he takes the camera behind him, gesturing you to hold it yourself. “Here, take this,”
With shaky hands, you reach for the camera, doing your best to focus on him fucking into you; from your view. His thumb grazes over your bundle of nerves, legs now on either of his toned shoulders. Sukuna kisses on your calf, before dropping an orb of spit onto his length, allowing it to be more easier for him to fuck into your asshole.
Pace momentarily speeding up, your body begins to jolt back and forth against the sheets; finding it difficult to keep holding the camera, beads of sweat dripping down his pecs, abs flexing with each thrust he forces into you.
The lens takes in how his cock disappears in and out of you, yourself faintly moaning at the sight. His hard cock stretching your asshole out, he sighs, increasing the speed of his movements again. Sukuna steals the camera from your possession, doing a close up on your two holes, one being fully stuffed with his cock.
His length glistening from the natural lubricant in your ass, he purrs out a grunt, "Where'd you want me to cum baby?" entranced by your holes sucking him in, he still was able to process your slurred words from below.
"A-anywhere.. your cock- it feels so good," you babble, your forearm covering your eyes as you began to sob; Sukuna quick enough to peel your hands away from your face.
He sucks some air through his teeth, swiftly pulling his cock out from your ass, letting his hot load out just over your folds; gliding his tip up and down to distribute the white evenly, using his cum as a lubricant to tease his cock back into your ass. “Stretched this cock whores holes out completely,” he shared with the camera footage, “Only I could do all that.”
Your feet gently kicks at his chest, doing him no harm— Sukuna’s cock resting heavily over your bare pussy, before he pans the camera at your blushing face for the last time.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, happy valentine's!🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
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1K notes · View notes
breelandwalker · 1 year
Text
Magical Powder Recipes
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A collection of some of my original magical powder recipes.
All-Purpose Cursing Powder
Bree's Banishing Powder
Clean House Powder
Come Hither Powder
Dead Man's Dust
Dream Dust
“Eye of Sauron” Revelation Powder
Get Thee Hence Powder
Ghost-Be-Gone Powder
Heal Thy Heart Powder
Hexbreaker Powder
Inspiration Salt
Lucky Day Powder
“Outta My Way” Powder
Peacekeeper Powder
Persuasion Powder
STFU Powder
Traveler’s Luck Powder
Truthfinder Powder
For those of you who may not be able to find herbs locally, here are some online suppliers who consistently have affordable and high-quality products.
Penn Herb Co. - Bulk herbs, spices, and botanicals - including over 400 wildcrafted herbs, gathered from the United States and worldwide. Single ounce packages are available. Excellent source for powders.
Starwest Botanicals - Bulk herbs, spices, oils, and teas. Good amount of organic and Fair Trade products, as well as supplies for holistic medicine and tea-making.
Mountain Rose Herbs - Bulk herbs, spices, and sundries. Also carries organic products and essential oils, and has link to schools that offer courses in herbalism and herbology.
Bulk Apothecary - Bulk herbs, spices, and oils, in addition to materials for the home production of soap, candles, wine, and beer.
For more recipes to fill out your potion kit, you can check out Pestlework: A Book of Magical Powders & Oils. (Available on Amazon and in my shop!)
If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊
3K notes · View notes
hyewka · 11 months
Note
i seriously need some sub soob🫢
like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee
warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot
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When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.
Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?
“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.
When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.
“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.
You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.
“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”
You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.
When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”
He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”
You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”
Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.
He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.
Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.
“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.
You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.
Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.
You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.
He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.
“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.
To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.
You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.
“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”
“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.
“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.
Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”
It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.
“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.
Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.
You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.
And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.
“My eyes are up here idiot.”
He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.
You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?
You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.
You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”
He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.
Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.
But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”
Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.
Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.
He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.
Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.
You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?
He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.
“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”
“Soobin where the fuck are you?”
You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.
“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”
He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.
“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.
His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”
You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.
He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.
The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.
His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.
No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.
His bulge.
It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.
And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.
If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.
“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”
He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.
“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.
“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.
“You’re evil.”
To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.
You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.
You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.
“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.
“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.
You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.
And maybe he already was breaking.
He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.
“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.
You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.
When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.
And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.
Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.
“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.
You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.
You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.
“Zero.”
You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”
Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.
So, he gets a kill.
You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.
“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”
A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.
His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”
You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”
The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.
He’s way too easy to break.
“Too much? Should I stop?”
He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”
“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.
“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”
You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.
“Put what in my mouth?”
He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”
You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.
You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.
You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.
It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”
Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.
But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.
You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.
Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.
“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.
He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.
“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”
The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.
You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.
You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.
Soobin had a lot stored.
Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.
“Hey. Question.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you fuck other people?”
You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”
Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.
“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.
“No. Only you.”
You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”
“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”
You raise your brows. “Do I what?”
“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”
You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”
“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.
Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.
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note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!
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cherryredstars · 5 months
Note
Hey!!! Firstly I want to say that I LOVE everything you do about Miguel 🛐🩷 Secondly, I apologize if I'm confused, English is not my first language, Portuguese is (yes, I'm from Brazil haha). If it's not a bother, you could do something like: Miguel comes home after work (he can be as Spider-Man or whatever he prefers) and finds his wife (aka me) coming out of the shower. She's ready for dinner, so he gives her a kiss and says he's going to take a shower too, so they can have dinner together. He goes into the bathroom and leaves the door open, starts taking off his clothes knowing that she is watching. So he gets in the shower and makes a point of taking his time, smoothing his beautiful body with the soap (while we drool). Well, we just couldn't take it and joined in (Oops, looks like we're in for another shower. This is definitely the best one).
I apologize again if it was confusing and it's okay if I can't do it. Thank you!!!🩷🩷🩷🩷
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Shower Sex, Handjob
Summary: Some simple shower shenanigans. 
Word Count: 540 (Not Edited)
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He can feel the humidity the second he walks in through the door. 
The bathroom door was wide open, letting the steam from your shower tumble out. The light is still on, and he peaks in. You’re humming as you do your skincare routine, hair and body wrapped in a towel. You startle when you see him, turning to him with a glare as you scold him. He can’t help himself from smiling, wrapping his arms around your waist. The smell of your body wash and shampoo is strong, and he could drown in it. He presses light kisses to your shoulder, water still beading on your skin. You lean back into him, pull the rest of your peeling mask off.
As you start talking about dinner, he pulls away. Your hands float over the plethora of products in front of you, picking up a serum as Miguel strips. You can see him from the corner of your eye, fully naked before he gets into the shower. The glass is still foggy, but it starts to disappear as the water runs. You can feel your mouth watering as he gets under the stream of water, hands pushing his damp hair back. You can feel your thighs clench, and your eyes trail down his body. It doesn’t take long for you to slip back in, pressing against him from behind. 
You know he’s smiling, a low hum coming from him. Your hands come around his hips, rubbing at his lower stomach. They trail down, following the path of the water. You can feel his body stiffen as your hand comes to the base of his cock, the other slipping to his balls. He lets out a groan, head tilting down to watch as you slowly begin to pump and massage. Water runs down the side of his face, running down to his chin and falling in an unbreaking line. It moves as his jaw does, his mouth dropping open in a series of moans. His body shivers as you move your hand faster, your lips pressing kisses to his back. 
Your hand moves further up, palm rubbing into his tip. A wet slap fills the small shower, his hand coming to rest on the shower wall. He lets out a shaky moan as you continue your work, his body continuing to tense against yours. You smile against his back, Miguel body arching as he rests his head besides his hand on the wall. He lets out small curses, his abs rolling from the tension. His hips buck into your hand as you leave his tip to continue doing simple pumps. 
A vibrating moan escapes him as he finishes, white cum temporarily splattering against the wall. The water quickly washes it away, and Miguel’s chest heaves as he comes down from his orgasm. He closes his eyes as you giggle behind him, letting his softening cock go. You let the water envelope your hand, cleaning it off before you step out. You wipe yourself down with your discard towel, covering yourself back up once again. You suddenly perk up for a second, turning and knocking on the shower door. 
“Don’t take too long Miguel, dinner will be done in an hour.”
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moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
Hey lovely!! Once again have been binging your page, and I saw you mentioned the lack of sirius in your request and I had this idea the other day! So it’s been like the longest day of classes and reader comes back completely slumped like ready to sleep a thousand years and sirius comes in to see her snuggled up in bed, his sweater on, and knocked out cold. Then he is all soft and wipes off her makeup (because half the time I fall asleep with it on and wake up w mascara smudges) and reader wakes up full of sleepy mumbles to sirius. Preferably female reader but if your more comfortable with neutral obviously do what you’re more comfortable with! Much much love to you and your writing 🤍🤍
Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!! Much much love to you back :)
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 895 words
Sirius very nearly sits on you. 
He thought you were out and was planning on waiting in your room for you to get back, but now he sees the evidence of your presence: your bag discarded in a heap by the door. You’re hardly more than a sliver of forehead and the tips of curled fingers sticking out from under the bedspread. He reroutes the second he sees you, straightening from his near-sit and biting his tongue to contain a curse. Your breathing is heavy and whistles slightly on the way in. You’re out cold. 
Sirius’ heart feels unbearably tender in the way it often does around you. He swears, when he gets like this even a toothpick would be a lethal weapon against him. He’s a boy made of mush.
He pulls the bedspread down so you don’t smother yourself, revealing your lovely face with tiny smudges of mascara caked under both eyes. And the collar of the sweater he’d found missing last week, the one you’d claimed to know nothing about. Sirius has every right to be angry about that. At least ostentatiously indignant, as is often his preference for dealing with your rare offenses. But the sight of you makes him more fond than is reasonable. You’ve pulled his sleeves down so only your fingers peek out, and the collar is all scrunched up under your cheek, and Sirius is fucked. 
He is absolutely, totally fucked. There’s just absolutely no way he’s got enough room in his heart for this much love. It very well might kill him. 
He keeps moving to give his heart something more productive to do. You’ll wake up feeling frustrated and extra lethargic if your eyelashes are sticky with mascara, and Sirius knows your routine well. He finds the supplies in your cabinet and barely breathes as he swipes the makeup remover over your skin with careful fingers, wiping away the traces of your day. It had to be a long one, to send you so deeply into sleep before the sun has even finished setting. The dying light illuminates your face while Sirius works. He tells himself it’s good for practical purposes as well as just making you look especially lovely. He can have both. 
Your eyes take the most persistence, and that’s when you start to rouse. 
“It’s just me,” Sirius says softly when your hand twitches up as if to feel for his wrist. “You fell asleep with your makeup on.” 
“Oh.” You relax impossibly further under his touch, voice breathy and dulled by sleep. “Thanks.” 
“Anytime, gorgeous.” He gets the last of the mascara off but isn’t ready to be done touching you, brushing the back of his forefinger along your hairline. “What’s done you in so early, huh?” 
Your eyes open for a moment, like you want to make sure he’s really there, before closing again. A pinch appears between your brows. “Headache,” you mumble. As if remembering your misery, your head sinks into his sweater like a chrysalis. 
Sirius’ brows pinch too, though your eyes aren’t open to witness his sympathy. “I’m sorry, lovebug. Did you take something already?” 
You hum in unhappy affirmation. 
“Hasn’t kicked in yet?” 
A halfhearted huff. “Or it’s not really helping.” 
He cards a hand through your hair, rewarded when the tension in your features eases slightly. “I’m sure it will, we’ve just got to give it time. Anything else I can do to help?” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh, come on, sweet thing.” He’s wheedling, covering a tad of desperation with a good heaping of teasing. “You know, I’ve been told that just looking upon me can cure a myriad of ailments. I’m like—what do the muggles have? Their god-human guy.” 
You crack an eyelid, the dryness of your expression undermined by a twitch of your lips. “Are you saying you’re Jesus?” 
“I’m saying that I’ve been told I’m sort of like Jesus,” Sirius corrects you with a grin. He rubs at a nonexistent smudge of makeup on your cheekbone. “So there’s got to be something I can do for you.” 
You release a great, heaving sigh, like your boyfriend is really asking a lot of you. But when you look up at him, there’s a familiar shyness there. “Do you wanna just lie with me for a bit?” 
“Baby.” The teasing leaves Sirius immediately. He softens like dough in your hands. “Of course I do.” He shucks off his shoes before shuffling out of his pants, knowing your rules about outside clothes in bed trump your occasional bashfulness when it comes to nudity. There’s nothing sexual about this anyway. You tuck into Sirius as soon as he’s close enough, and he brings his arms around you protectively, one banded around your ribs and the other curved over your shoulders so he can cup the back of your head. “Don’t be silly,” he whispers with faux malice, kissing your hair. “I always want to do whatever you’re doing. Are we going back to sleep?” 
“Maybe,” you hedge, but Sirius can already hear your voice stretching. You’re slipping away even as your head eases closer to him, your breath tickling his collarbone. 
He tries to match your languid tone to help along the process. “Sounds good, gorgeous. I’ll be here if you need anything.” 
Your reply is barely audible, but Sirius’ heart warms nonetheless. “I know you will.” 
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yume-yuurei · 9 months
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Another day, another log-in. The doors of Ramshackle open up once more to welcome their dear resident - their Yuu, their player.
Representatives from all dorms wait with bated breath, wondering who's going to get lucky and be allowed to give their welcoming speech this time. Some are confident, head held high and proud, words sitting at the tip of their tongue, ready to be spilled; others are anxious, fidgeting with parts of their uniform and checking themselves in a mirror - such an occasion requires one to look their best, all to make a good impression on you! And, after a few torturous seconds of waiting, spotlight lands on one of the many. Their face gleams under jealous stares of their disappointed schoolmates, a single bead of sweat rolling down the nape and bringing cool air to their skin. Everything has to be perfect for the player, and perfect it is - the words that have been rehearsed hundreds of time in the privacy of their room, the face expressions, the gestures - as they voice out wishes for another productive day and offer the log-in rewards.
To be chosen as a class partner is both a blessing and a curse. Rejoice those who have skills and smarts to demonstrate and brag about, poor are those who fall behind in studies. Leona suddenly finds a reason to skip out on a midday nap in favor of sitting out a history lesson, surprising both his classmates and Professor Trein. From time to time he even bothers to speak out, interrupting some poor kid - not like they'll do anything about it, a Kingscholar is not a force to be reckoned with; Azul and Riddle stare each other down, lifting hands at every question at the speed of light, completing tasks flawlessly, outshining everybody else with their vast knowledge to the point where teachers have to ignore them on purpose - after all, other students need their marks too... Though it doesn't stop the two from flaunting their exams results after finals roll around.
What do you mean "Twisted wonderland is not a romance visual novel"? Do they look like they care? Even the heaviest of Disney censor will not stop these boys from sneaking in a couple of flirty remarks. They WILL go against code if they have to. And if main story cannot be messed with, events are still a fair game, are they not? Watch Ace throw in bold pick-up lines and inquire about your type; it's the fifth time you're inviting him in the guest room, do you have a crush on him or something?? don't get shy now, of course he's just teasing! It's a shame that your choice of answers is so limited, the game brushes off his words way too easily...
And don't get me started at the Magic Mirror summons. To be selected as a member of the player's team is an honor like no other - that means their strength was recognized. Though some card combinations can be pretty... questionable. Placing, say, Leona and Malleus or Floyd and Riddle in one team would most likely result in a mess; be careful with your choice!
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korvasound · 2 years
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legitimately cursed production tip:
draw out the artifacts from serum by filtering a low sine and dumping 8 OTTs on it for fun resamplable textures
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dejwrites · 7 months
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( 𝟽𝟽𝟽 ) ⸻ pretty mouth, pretty girl !
before reading please be advised of the following — female reader, female antomy described, reader is black coded (descriptors included), modern au/non curse au, usage of spit, titty fucking, established relationship (reader & choso are dating), this fic belonged to another character but i gave it to my pookie, enjoy !
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The coolness of the silver rings that decorate his fingers touched his lips as he was in deep thought. He liked you. Correction, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.  He liked the way your tongue licked the wrapping paper when you two smoked in your favorite spot after a joyride on his motorcycle. He liked how you lathered your lips in whatever lip gloss was in your miniature purse that could only fit a piece of candy and probably about two other things. He enjoyed how you talked—your voice like a sweet tune on a Sunday morning. He enjoys the sun bouncing off your brown skin, giving it a perfect glow—like a spec of gold was sprinkled on it.
 Choso enjoyed how your coils fell in your face after a successful attempt at whatever hairstyle that had his oversized t-shirt you wore the night before drenched in water and hair products. He loved that you got along with his brother Yuji Itadori; former flings couldn’t tolerate the pinked-haired male. But you, you seem actually to be able to have a conversation with him—so any stamp of approval from Yuji was huge for Itadori. He can go on and on—create countless Apple notes checklists about what he liked, cherished, and loved about you. But nothing beats the one thing that had his cock twitching in anticipation.
The way you looked up at him when you were on your knees.
Your plush, plump lips are swollen from kissing. Your knees are bruised from the wooden floors below your body—Choso forgot to put a pillow down. But he was sure he’d put a bandaid and clean up the bruises late on, but right now, he wanted to focus on you. Your pretty manicured hands holding your tits tightly together with his cock wedged in between them. The lewd, wet sound of the spit he hawked down on them and the lube he found me in his nightstand was like music to his ears. His burning ears felt so hot that he could have been running a fever.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso whined while his hips bucked upward several times. He wanted to touch you some more badly, but if he did—he’d come so quickly.
“Like what?” You questioned as your mouth gasped open just in time for thrust forward in between your boobs and your tongue to brush against the slit on his pink-shaded mushroom-shaped tip. Being sure to let your tongue briefly brush against the silver hoop that created his Prince Albert piercing.
“Shit, I can’t wait to fuck you after this.” He grunted through broken whines as he increased the movement of his hips. He was bucking so recklessly that it was causing you to fall backward just a bit.
Your hand grasped at his toned thighs to stop him briefly, “Slow down! You’re going to make me fall.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, and instantly his cheeks fade to a crimson color in not only humiliation but the fact that he is about to cum.
“I’m sorry. I told you to stop making that fuckin’ face, and you just do it.” Choso says, his teeth nip on his lower lip. If he could, he would bite his lip off in embarrassment.
“I can’t help it that my face makes you about to come,” You respond before you grasp at the bottle of lube that is next to your body. You opened it, lathering it between your tits, and now grasped upon them tighter. “Now, you might want to hurry before the others come over for game night.”
Shit, Choso was thinking so much with his dick that he forgot about the game night.
He didn’t respond to your words. He went back to thrusting his girthy cock in between your boobs. With each thrust, you’re trying not to let the grasp on your boobs go. With each thrust, Choso’s beautiful eyes are staring down at you and how you look. 
This was the look he was talking about. The way your teeth dig into your bottom lip as if letting him titty fuck you was the most important task that you must concentrate on. Or that on some thrusts, your tits are spilling apart in one hand because you were so eager to rub at your clit through your panties—he already knew you were soaked. Chaotic sexual activities like this always had your panties soaked. So soaked that they stuck to your pussy lips briefly when he dragged them down your legs.  
His finger grasped at the wooden nightstand next to his bed to gain some form of balance as his thrusting continued. His head fell back in a temporary bliss, and he could feel his cock twitch in anticipation. His thick cock being wedged between your perfectly sized tits was driving him insane. His body heat increased with seconds, and he tugged the graphic t-shirt up and brought the ends of it in between his teeth so he could get a better view.
“Continue that; I’m about to come, baby.” Choso coos softly. 
He could feel his balls grow heavy, and he knew that he was about to release a heavy load. The way that you knew him, his soul, and his body so well—you knew it too. Your hands grasp tighter at your boobs, and you begin to maneuver your body to match Choso's reckless thrusting between your boobs. He lets out a dragged-out slur of your name before he's a coming mess. 
Thick ropes of cum shoot out the tip of his cock, similar to water squirting out of a water gun. His hand gripped his cock as he angles himself to paint his canvas. You, his stunning girlfriend. You wait patiently—no desperately for his cum. His cum that he lets shoots all over your pretty face. His cum that drips down on your perky tits—just adding on to the mess that decorates your chest. 
The sight of his white-shaded cum imprinting your face probably became his favorite look. Especially seeing the sight of you letting your tongue drag alongside your lips to collect the liquor that splattered on your lips.
Maybe the game night for tonight can be postponed. 
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Dear Hearts and Gentle People 16
Summary: While out exploring and scavenging the wasteland, you come across an old world object in remarkable condition. You go to Cooper and find out exactly what it really is.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut. Sex toys. Vibrator. Rope play. Edging. Cooper is a menace. Body worship.
Masterlist
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You frown down at the pale pink object that you'd found in a drawer beside the bed. You and Cooper were inside an old apartment building in the "rich side of town" as Cooper had put it when they two of you had arrived in Hollywood. The building was sturdy despite the time and the damage done from the atomic bombs, and you had made the decision to bunk down inside for the evening since it was relatively safe.
The object gets shoved in your back pocket, and you go about raiding the rest of the bedroom before going to find your ghoul. He is kicked back on the couch in the living room, feet propped up on the table and watching a static laced cartoon. You tip toe forward, but the ghoul hears something crunch under your feet and turns around to smirk at you, his ruined brow twitching up.
"Gotta do better than that to try and get me, Baby."
You scrunch your nose at him, then round the couch to stand by his legs. Cooper drops them to the ground, and you step between them, a grin on your face as you move to straddle his lap. His hands land on your waist, pull you forward, and your knees his the back of the couch. The seat of your pants is flush with his own, and you can already feel his cock hardening under you.
Cooper grins, "Comfy Sugar?"
He rocks under you, and you nod as you bite your lip to keep the sigh of pleasure from falling. The ghoul smooths his hands up your sides, roughly digging his fingers in, before slipping to your back to grab your ass, only to come in contact with the object you'd shoved in your back pocket earlier. Coop's brow furrows and he grabs it.
"I wanted to ask you about that," you begin and look at the faded pink object, brows furrowed when you notice the excited gleam lingering in Cooper’s golden gaze, "What is it?"
The ghoul recognizes the toy immediately, shaped vaugly like a microphone with three buttons on the side and covered in a soft silicone. The company who made the vibratior assured their buyers that the product was "guaranteed to last forever." Cooper wanted to find out if that was true or not.
"This," He says with a mischievous grin, "Is a sex toy."
Your eyes go wide, and you reach for it, turning it this way and that as you examine the object. You find one of the buttons and press down, jumping when the toy comes to life and vibrates violently in your palm.
Cooper feels his cock swell, and he takes it away from you, eyes half-lidded as plans swirl into reality, "Get undressed, Sugar. I'll show you what it can do."
~~~
A ragged moan rips from your throat, and you thrash in your bindings. Cooper has strung you up on the bed. Wrists lashed together and tied at the headboard while your ankles remain free, for now at least. Your stomach clenches again when Cooper presses the head of the vibrator against your clit, and curses tumble into the air. The rope burns against your flesh, but the minor pain just turns you on even more.
It feels like it's been hours since Cooper ordered you to undress and then tied you to the bed. The ghoul sits between your legs, one hand keeping the toy pressed to your swollen clit, his other hand plays with your soaked folds, gently swiping them back and forth. His middle finger ghosts over your fluttering hole, and you grit your teeth, hips jerking.
"Ah, uh," Cooper admonished, "You don't get to come until I say you do, Sugar."
He leans down to press sweet kisses to your inner thighs, smirking at the way they tremble and twitch. Your body is like a live wire, sensitive to every touch and press of his lips. Up he goes, worshipping you to his hearts content, and his fingers flex against your cunt. You groan when one finally slides inside of you, the stretch making you see stars.
You can feel the crest coming, heat pooling down, and you're so close until you suddenly aren't. Cooper stalls his gentle thrusts of his hand and takes away the toy, and you glare at him through your sweaty bangs. He grins meanly right back, and you drop your head back down to the pillow with a sigh.
"Are you not havin' fun, Sweetheart?" Cooper coos below you and leans down to presses against your hip, peaking up at you with mischievous golden eyes, "Can't take it anymore?"
He loves having you like this, all strung up and open just for him. Your thighs shake against his face, and he nips your sensitive flesh. You look beautiful, skin flushed, and covered in a fine layer of sweat from the pleasurable torture that he's put you through. Your cunt flutters and twitches, and Cooper can't help but lean down and kiss your lower lips.
You moan when his tongue sweeps across your folds, gathering slick and slurping it down with a sigh of content. He stays there, drinking straight from the source like a man who'd wandered the desert for days. You jerk against your bonds, and the rope burns, leaving behind red marks that Cooper would sooth later on.
"Cooper," you grunt and flex your stomach, looking for that crest again and finding far away. You want to come so badly it hurts, "Cooper, please finish me."
The ghoul ignores you for a moment, content with his fun, before he stops with a soft sigh and raises up, his face coated with your slick. You watch him lick his lips and grin down at you.
"Beg a lil sweeter, honey," He drawls, "I know you can do it."
You blush and roll your eyes at his demands, but you know an order when you hear one.
"Will you please let me come, Cooper? It hurts," you plead and send him your best pitiful, woe is me look, "You're the only one who makes me feel this way."
Cooper hums lowly, appeased with your begging, "Mhm. That's a good girl."
A shout rips through your throat when he presses the vibrator back to your clit, and the powerful sensation explodes through your body. Your legs jerk, and you bite you lip hard enough to draw blood. His fingers pump again, and you bare your teeth in a silent snarl when his longest finger brushes up against that spongy spot hidden inside your cunt.
"There it is," Cooper rumbles, and focus on that spot, the tips of his fingers massaging harshly, and you throw back your head, hips jerking as the crest gets closer and closer. However, there is another feeling gathering in your lower stomach, a pressure near your bladder that makes panic zing through you.
"Relax, baby. Let it happen," Cooper orders, and you struggle to do so, that pressure building with pleasure until you break. Tears stream down your face when your pussy clenches tight around his fingers, gushing around him and soaking the bed below you.
Your body feels rung out and exhausted when you come back to yourself. Cooper has already stowed away the toy and untied your wrists. He kisses the burns left behind and slips onto the bed with you, tugging you close and curling an arm around your waist. You snuggle into his side, eyes slipping closed before a thought comes to mind.
"...we're keeping that thing, right?"
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wynnyfryd · 4 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 48
part 1 | part 47 | ao3
cw: mentions of smoking/sexual activity
Chapter 11
February
For two and a half months, Steve’s life goes perfectly. He didn’t realize how far into a pit he’d fallen until Eddie showed up to help Robin and the kids lift him out, but the difference is jarring. Golden hour sunlight after catching a matinée.
Steve spends two months blinking.
He sloughs off his sadness like a snake shedding skin; spends the winter getting back to being Steve, restocks his favorite hair products and restarts his fitness routines — morning runs through the woods, afternoon pick-up games with Lucas and some of his teammates when the weather doesn’t suck. Weightlifting in the evenings because Eddie says he likes how Steve’s arms look when they get a little big, says it’s more fun to pin him down when he knows it’s just for show.
And he tries new things, too, just because Eddie likes them or because the kids think they're cool. He reads a Vonnegut novel. He eats Indian curry. He even learns a song on guitar.
...Sort of.
Eventually.
(Actually, that whole thing goes pretty horribly and takes for-fucking-ever. Eddie spends an afternoon patiently encouraging him and doing his best not to tease while Steve clumsily moves through a beginner chord progression, and then breaks down wheezing when, after the sixth attempt with no improvement, Steve puts the guitar down in a huff and threatens to demote his pinky finger from his hand if it doesn't start cooperating. Eddie laughs so hard he tips face-first into Steve's crotch, and it takes them a sticky-spitty-sweaty half hour to get back to the lesson.)
Anyway, he likes the way their lives entangle. As easy as weaving his hands through Eddie’s hair.
He gets invited to band practice; he sits in on D&D. Sometimes he watches sports with Wayne when he's got a day off, then he heads out with Eddie for long joyrides through the countryside.
Eddie blasts his metal music when they get out to the backroads, and he talks too loudly over the bass and laughs even louder and rants about nothing and smokes cigarettes while he headbangs to his favorite guitar solos — almost lights his hair on fire on more than one occasion, fucking dumbass — and he does this silly, lewd shit that makes Steve's chest just ache. Makes it clench around the word that's been burning a hole in his tongue since New Year's Eve. Eddie wags his brows and palms himself through his jeans and asks if Steve wants to take another joyride when they get home, and Steve thinks:
God, I love you.
I love you.
How could I not love you?
And really, how could he not? And how much longer can he keep not telling him so? When it feels like the word is going to burst out of his chest Alien-style any second.
When it feels like Eddie's the reason he even has a home to get to.
Slowly — so slowly, hours spent thrifting and bartering and keeping an eye out for free stuff left out on the curb, even more hours sanding and painting and caulking and sweating to death between trips to the hardware store — they redo Steve's whole trailer. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, they exorcise the haunted tin can. They make it his; they make it theirs.
Eddie injects life into every inch of the space, fills it with weird art and funky lamps and a big, comfy leather couch that he likes to bend Steve over. Comes inside him in every room when they get done working on it as a reward; gasps in Steve's ear about how he always wants to be inside him: in his home, in his body, nestled deep inside his heart. "Keep me right here, baby," he breathes as he fucks Steve against a wall, his left hand gripping Steve's chest while he fills him from behind.
It’s perfect.
It's perfect.
Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts unless Steve asks.
And then, because this godforsaken town and everyone in it are fucking cursed, one day it isn’t anymore.
part 49
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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A Hint of Lovely Oblivion
pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 
summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.
warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice
a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!
w/c: 4.6k
Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.
It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.
Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.
Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.
Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.
Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.
“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”
”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.
His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”
“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.
Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”
Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“
Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.
”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.
”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.
”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.
”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.
Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.
It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.
Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.
Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.
Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“
Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”
Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“
Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.
He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.
Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“
”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.
”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”
The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.
Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.
“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.
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Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.
Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.
“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”
Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.
Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.
Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.
He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.
His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.
“We’re here, darlin’.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”
Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.
“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”
Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”
“Course, honey. Anythin’.”
“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.
Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”
With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”
Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”
Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.
“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.
“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.
Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.
Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.
“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”
“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.
Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“
Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“
The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.
“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.
“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.
“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”
Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.
Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.
”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.
”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”
“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.
“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.
“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”
“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“
”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“  Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.
Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“
With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.
“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face.  “You're my only hope.”
Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”
Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“
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After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.
The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds.  It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.
His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.
“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home. 
“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation. 
“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply. 
“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”
“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability. 
“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”
Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips. 
“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now. 
Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”
Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.
“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room. 
“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”
“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.
“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair. 
Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.” 
You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway. 
“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly. 
Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips. 
“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke. 
“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote. 
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If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement. 
After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner. 
Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week. 
Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.” 
“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..” 
Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?” 
“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in. 
“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face. 
Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”
“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears. 
“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows. 
“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered. 
“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.
“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.
“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims. 
Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”
“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.
“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.
“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”
Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment. 
“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”
Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.
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Thanks for reading!!
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breelandwalker · 8 months
Text
Dead Man's Dust
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Intent: For preventing spirits from following you home.
Ingredients:
1 pt Chili Pepper (any type)
1 pt Salt
1 pt Basil
1 pt Garlic Powder
1⁄2 pt Dill
1⁄2 pt Lemon Peel
Optional: Add a pinch of Curry or Cumin for extra oomph.
Note: Powdered versions of most herbs are available online. I recommend Starwest Botanicals and Penn Herbs for quality products at reasonable prices. Also, if you can get your hands on a good electric spice grinder, you can make your own powder from dried herb products. If you don't have premade powdered herbs, grind each ingredient separately to produce fine powder. Sieve the material through the mesh strainer into the collection dish; this removes the larger unground pieces and gives you cleaner powdered herb. (Pro-Tip: Putting a funnel under the mesh strainer reduces lost material and makes collection much easier.)
Combine the component powders in the collection dish, mix well, and bottle immediately. Label with the name, date, and ingredients for future reference.
This powder performs one of the functions of Banishing Powder, but with special attention to warding off pesky ghosts. After visiting historical or haunted locations, or any time you feel spooked while walking home, sprinkle a palmful of powder on the ground and scrape your feet on it (as if you were wiping off dirt) to keep anything ghostly from following you home. Take three steps backward and spit toward the powder, then continue on your way.
For extra protection, toss a pinch of Banishing Powder, Threshold Powder, or Black Salt over your doorstep when you get home.
Note: For safety's sake, make sure you never cast this powder into the wind and wash your hands after use. Leftover particles on your skin can cause pain and irritation if they come into contact with your eyes or breathing passages.
-adapted from Pestlework: A Book of Magical Powders & Oils, (c) 2017 by Bree NicGarran
(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
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