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#glad its gone in most places
sugurizz · 11 months
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(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)
Yoga instructor! Geto who starts your private session together with the brightest smile and the kindest words. He helps you unwind with some breathing exercises then tells you to mirror his movements and positions. He even gently corrects your stance to perfectly match his own.
Yoga instructor! Geto notices that your muscles are still tense and that your body needs to loosen up a bit more. So he invites you to sit in front of him and starts massaging your neck and shoulders. his slender yet powerful fingers are hitting the perfect spots in your body as if he was inside it, driving every hint of stress away through your skin.
Yoga instructor! Geto who pushes the sighs of satisfaction out of your lips. Slowly getting you all loose and putty in his hands as you try your best not to moan from his melting touches.
"I'm glad my lovely client is enjoying my small service." He whispers deeply next to your neck, eyes filled with fiery lust hiding under his dark lashes.
The heat you felt in your cheeks is now pooling in your belly, then burning down into your sex. His touches are getting painfully slower. But he's still as cool and unbothered as always, only taunting your senses and driving your heart insane for his own heart's content.
You somehow decide to strip off to your sportsbra, telling him that it makes it easier for him to reach your pressure points.
Yoga instructor! Geto who agrees with a little smirk, but now just to be fair, he gets to take off his black tank top as well.
Your back is now rubbing against his abs. His arms are caging you tight on either side and his long fingers roam dangerously lower, from the curves of your breasts down to him strocking the fat of your stomach, carressing your hips and ghosting over your wet pussy.
Yoga instructor! Geto who notices you giving him the cutest puppy eyes. You never break eye contact with him as you spread your legs wide, take his hand in yours then place it on the spot that's aching for him the most..
"Sorry...It felt a little warm. maybe because of the stress.." you drift your eyes away only for them to meet his again, cheeks squeezed between his fingers.
"Aww, is that so ??"
"Yeah.."
"don't you worry love. I'mma take care of it"...
Yoga instructor! Geto who's now face buried in your cunt cause 'he needs to relieve your inner tension'. His silky tongue is smoothing its way between your folds you and shamelessly making out with your pussy lips. His eyes are smiling at you as he releases your clit with the cutest "pop" sound.
Yoga instructor! Geto who's now pounding you in a full nelson with your legs on both sides of your head. His large hands keep your head still as he promises you he's gonna chase all your tension away.
"hnngh..how does it feel now, cupcake? ah-fuck.. is the stress gone yet?"
Yoga instructor! Geto who tells you to come more often, because he won't be charging you for your private sessions anymore.
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english-history-trip · 11 months
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Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.
The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.
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Paolo Uccello, 1456
This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10
Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up
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Unknown artist, c. 1505
This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10
Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this
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Raphael, 1505
We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael
Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ
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The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401
We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10
Horse thoughts: Dehhhh
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Book of Hours, c. 1480
Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10
Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening
Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:
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Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432
I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10
Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever
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Unknown artist, c. 15th century
I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die
Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack
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Book of Hours, c. 1450
Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away
Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed
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Book of Hours, c. 1415
This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10
Horse thoughts: ....yikes
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And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road
Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.
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hazyhae · 5 months
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strawberry cough | njm
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strangers to fwb to lovers w/ plug!jaemin ft. bestie shotaro
summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more.
pt. 2 here
wc: 9.1k 18+ mdni
cw: weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, protected/unprotected penetrative sex, oral, 69, shotgunning, soft dom!jaemin, some angst & misunderstandings, jealous reader and jaemin, comforting from jaemin, jaemin calls reader baby & angel, gn!afab!reader, he has a pull out couch, strawberry cough is an actual weed strain i recommend it :)
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shotaro calls your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“his name is jaemin and we have the same supplier, I’ll even ask him to give you a discount!”
your best friend was moving to another town across the country for work and you can’t help but tear up at the thought of being so far from the sweet boy. you met back in your teens and had been glued at the hip since.
somewhere over the course of your friendship, shotaro started to dabble in weed, teaching you almost everything you know about the substance and eventually becoming your plug and smoking buddy. with shotaro gone, it might be difficult finding someone who not only you can trust but also knows your weed needs like the back of their hand.
you blink at the new name, trying to remember what he was talking about, and recall something along the lines of finding you a new plug.
“i’d definitely recommend him, i’d say he’s second best to me in town, and i can trust him around you,” shotaro jokes with you, keeping it lighthearted.
you know behind the joking, your friend is doing his best to look out for you despite going through a stressful time himself. you don’t want to make this move any harder for him than it already is, so you agree with a smile.
“i’ll give him a chance, just give me his number and we’ll go from there.”
he meets your smile with his own.
“trust me, he’ll take good care of you.”
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
a couple of weeks after shotaro’s move, you decide its finally time to text your potential new plug. after finding his contact buried in your messages, you text jaemin, setting up a meeting time to pick up some goods, planning on buying an eighth and some gummies.
surprisingly, he asks if you want to check out his strains when you get there, wanting you to actually see all he has to offer before buying.
his customer service impresses you, realizing that you just assumed he would be as casual as shotaro and any other plug you’ve gone to. most of the time they would just ask you what you want, give you your order, and you’d be on your way. seeing the whole collection would definitely be good if you plan to go to him long-term.
while you’re a little hesitant at the thought of entering his apartment, you feel better given how shotaro talked your ear off on how good jaemin was, both as a friend and fellow plug.
a 20-minute walk from your place leads you to the address he sent, and you triple-check your phone to make sure you’re at the right apartment. when you finally ring the doorbell, you hear some rushed footsteps and the door opens to a sight you were not expecting.
your eyes move up to see a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and one of the prettiest smiles you’ve ever seen.
“hi, you’re __? taro’s friend, right?”
you nod, exchanging introductions, and he gives you a tight handshake, not breaking eye contact.
“come on in! i’ve laid out everything so you can pick what you want. let me know if you have any questions.” he flashes another smile, and you can’t help but smile back at his welcoming attitude. besides shotaro, other plugs you have gone to never exchanged more than a few words with you, but they also didn’t have a smile like jaemin’s. actually, no one you’ve ever met had a smile like that.
you take a look around his apartment, noting how well kept it was, with minimal but tasteful decor. you were already a little nervous, but staring at the back of the attractive man leading you to his kitchen in his perfect apartment has your heart speeding up.
he shows you his collection, which you note to be on the same level as shotaro’s. you remember how your stash of your favorite strain ran out the week before, and knowing they have the same supplier, you look around his extensive collection for a familiar logo.
“do you have anymore strawberry cough? that’s my go-to.”
his expression falters slightly, but he recovers quickly and answers your question.
“i’m out of stock right now, but if you come back next week i should definitely have it in.”
nodding in understanding, you pick up a small pack of orange gummies, deciding on taking a break from smoking until your next visit. he packs up your gummies and leads you back to the entrance of his apartment, but when you reach into your bag to pull out your wallet he stops you.
“it’s on the house.” he insists, flashing you another one of his dazzling smiles. his smile makes it almost too hard to argue.
“oh no, i can’t do that to you,” you respond and resume your task of grabbing your wallet. you stop at the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.
“let’s just say it’s a first time customer deal, okay?” his strong gaze stills you.
“it’s not every day I get a customer as cute as you,” he says with a grin and a look in his eyes you can’t quite figure out. it does a good job of shutting you up, and you feel your face heat up. the place where his hand meets your shoulder feels like it’s burning.
you don’t know how to respond and he chuckles at your flustered expression. he places the gummies in your hands, and opens the door for you.
“make sure you come back next week, i’ll be waiting for your text!” you nod and quietly respond with your thanks and goodbye as you walk out into the hallway. he waits until you’re at the elevator, waving to you as the elevator doors close.
immediately you’re clutching your burning face in your hands, and his words replay in your head until you go to sleep that night.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
while the interaction with your new plug lingers in your mind for a while, you are quick to try and dismiss jaemin’s flirting as his way of charming customers and nothing more. shotaro did say he would ask him to give you a discount, so maybe it’s safe to assume that freebie was a favor for your mutual friend.
the next week, you’re surprised to see a text from jaemin letting you know that your favorite was in stock. you had debated in your mind on when to text him, but it’s a pleasant surprise that he texted you first. you agree to come after work, and your second visit to him is not as nerve-wracking as the first, though his closing remarks from the first visit still ring in your brain.
you wave those thoughts off again as he meets you at the door.
“hello my strawberry cough lover!” he greets you happily.
lover. you freeze at the word. you pause for a few seconds, jaemin confused at your lack of response when you realize he’s referring to your love for the product. you totally missed that. he was not calling you his lover.
“hi jaemin,” you sheepishly reply, internally scolding yourself for those thoughts.
you expect him to collect your payment, give you your bag, and send you on your way. but something you’ve begun to learn in the short time you’ve known him is that he is always full of surprises.
he invites you in and you see your order sitting on his kitchen table. your eyebrow raises when he pulls out another bag of what you recognize as strawberry cough from the label.
“do you have any plans today?” he asks.
it’s about 6pm and your only plans included smoking the goods you would be getting from jaemin, so nothing’s booked. “i’m free, what’s up?”
“it’s actually been a while since i’ve smoked or sold this strain, so i wanted to ask if you’d want to smoke with me? it’ll be on the house of course, but you totally don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable” he actually looks a little nervous asking, which you find endearing.
“sure, sounds fun,” you agree, once again taking into consideration shotaro’s ramblings about jaemin. you would never pass up the opportunity for free weed with a potential new friend. friend.
he brightens, sitting you down on his living room sofa and running to get his smoking materials together.
“pipe or joint?” he asks. you reply with the latter and he gets to rolling.
you watch as he expertly grinds and packs the green leaves into the wrapping paper, licking the edge to seal it and pinching the end shut.
you can’t deny that it’s probably one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen a man do. you’ve seen many of your friends roll before, but something about the way jaemin uses his hands (and mouth) has you almost drooling.
he offers you the first hit, and you place the joint between your lips. he lights it as you inhale slightly, keeping his hand steady to catch any ash from falling on you.
while his earlier display had your body reacting, his gentlemanly behavior hit you right in the heart. you take two hits and hand it back to him, watching him take his own.
“how did you meet shotaro?” he asks, making conversation, and you are more than happy to explain how he accidentally hit you with a basketball during your second year of high school. you feel your body start to lighten and your mind fuzz.
“he couldn’t stop apologizing, going on and on about taking me to the hospital,” you’re trying to tell him through your giggles and before you know it, full laughter leaves you at the thought of your friend.
he looks at you with dazed eyes and a dopey smile, laughing along with you, starting to recount his own memories of your shared friend.
conversation seems to just flow naturally between the two of you. with each time the joint is passed back and forth, you learn another piece of information about the man in front if you, and vice versa. it’s comfortable.
at some point, you are both pretty settled into your highs, melted into the couch watching some random movie.
you look over at jaemin, and he looks more handsome and cozy than you remember a couple hours ago. he was within arms length, and if you wanted to, you could just reach over and-
“__, are you okay?” jaemin’s call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.
embarrassed by your staring and what just went through your head, you try to keep it as cool as possible, but you know that your thoughts are threatening to seep out.
“yeah, i’m good, just thinking of heading out soon since it’s getting pretty late,” you assure him. at this point, a few hours had passed since you arrived and it was safe to say you needed to go home and cool your head before you said or did anything you’d regret.
he nods in understanding and tells you he will be right back. you’re not too sure what he’s up to, but he comes back quickly wearing a hoodie and helps you to your feet with a gentle hand. he picks up your order from the kitchen, and walking to the front door he grabs his keys and starts to put his shoes on.
“are you heading somewhere, too?” you ask, and he looks at you blankly.
“i’m walking you home?” he states as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. you told him somewhere along the line that you lived close by, but you didn’t expect this.
“jaemin, you don’t have to, it’s only 20 minutes,” you try to assure him.
you know that it isn’t the safest to walk by yourself at this time of the night, but you don’t want to trouble him.
“i do have to, and i want to.” you know he’s really made his mind up, seeing his serious expression, so you give up any further argument at his response.
your thoughts tell you he’s just being a good friend, but your heart hopes its something more.
the two of you walk back in a comfortable silence, jaemin with your order in hand. he walks you to the front of your apartment building, handing you your bag once you arrive.
“i had a lot of fun today, hope we can do this again sometime,” he says with that same look he had when he gave you your first freebies.
“same here, i think that would be really nice,” you respond, internally celebrating that he enjoyed your time together just as much as you did.
his normal dopey grin comes back at that, and he bids you a good night, waiting until you are inside your building to start his walk home.
only when you get back to your room do you realize you forgot to pay him.
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over the next few months, you find that jaemin never lets you pay. he’s officially become your plug and smoking buddy. you never stop protesting and offering to pay, but in that time you’ve also gotten to know how stubborn he is.
“friends get free shit.” he shrugs, as if it’s just common sense.
friends. the word stings a bit. you’ve come to learn that his charms extended so far beyond what was offered to customers. so much so that you’ve come to want more than friendship.
but again, you also don’t want to ruin what you’ve got growing and make him uncomfortable. this has to be a platonic experience for him, right?
that’s what you tell yourself, keeping your hopes at bay. you don’t want to risk anything.
on a particularly stressful work day, you come to pick up your usual order when he notices something is off. he frowns seeing you so tired and noticeably upset, immediately leading you inside with his hand gently resting on your back.
“what’s wrong?” he asks feeling your forehead for any sign of a fever. you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with him over your time together, closing your eyes at his touch.
“nothing, just a tough day at work,” you murmur, just wanting to get your order and go home to lie in bed. a harsh argument with your manager today left you feeling frustration bubbling in your throat with no way to let it out.
“i know something that might help?” he offers. he brings you straight to your usual spot on the couch, and goes to the kitchen, returning with a familiar decorated bag.
“you didn’t,” gasping as he starts to lay its contents out on the table.
the bag included your go to order from your favorite fast food place, complete with a strawberry smoothie.
“i didn’t expect that it would be a perfect day to do this, but i’m glad i did.”
your eyes start to sting.
his kindness is coming at a moment you needed it most. he’s always been kind, and that has not changed at all since the day you met him. tears start to fall.
“wait, did i mess up your order??” his eyebrows furrow and he starts to get up, scanning the food on the table.
you shake your head, grabbing his arm to pull him back into sitting.
“no, just thank you, thank you so much jaemin.” you’re trying to compose yourself, but the same warm hand you’ve come to know and love starts to rub circles into your shoulder, making you cry more.
you lean into him, letting yourself let go of your frustrations of the day. jaemin encourages you to talk, wrapping his arm completely around you and whispering sweet affirmations in response to your worries.
after what feels like forever passes by, you find yourself relaxed in his arms with his head resting on yours.
“thank you and i’m sorry jaemin, i know that was a lot,” you say as you turn your head to look at him, realizing how close the two of you were.
he leans back, still with an arm around you. “i’m gonna pretend i only heard that first part. you’re never too much and you don’t have to be sorry about letting your emotions out. not with me.”
you really don’t understand how he’s telling you exactly what you need to hear.
at this point, the feeling slowly blooming over the past few months has really has made itself clearer than ever to you.
you like him. you like him so much.
you whisper your thanks again, and he shushes you, with his eyes moving down to your lips.
“you’re welcome, now let’s smoke a little?” he asks quietly, and you nod, figuring you would appreciate the relaxation of your body and hopefully, your heart as well.
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jaemin lets you use his facewash and a towel to freshen yourself up after crying, and has a pipe freshly packed for when you come back.
after your usual passing back and forth, you’re melted into the couch watching tv yet again. jaemin has his arm wrapped around you just similar to how he did at your earlier cry session, but this time his hand is around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly.
you don’t mind at all, pressed into his side as you both watch a cute cat cartoon. you look up at him, staring at his lips as thoughts start to sprout. you’ve noticed his obsession with wearing lip balm, and it’s really paid off. they look so soft and you can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against yours.
he doesn’t lean away this time when he notices your gaze, looking into your eyes with his own hooded ones. you don’t know if it’s the weed giving your thoughts life, but your voice is leaving you before you know it.
“can i kiss you?”
you gasp after realizing what you’ve said, moving to get up, but his arm wraps tighter around you, stopping you from separating yourself from him. staring down at you with lidded eyes, he closes the distance between the two of you.
his lips are even softer than anything you’ve imagined.
his pecks turn into full kisses, and it’s only a matter of time before things turn more heated, jaemin slipping in his tongue to meet yours. the two of you kiss for what feels like forever, getting lost in the haze.
your mouth chases his as he starts to pull back, and he smiles against your lips. he fully pulls back look at you, and leans in to pepper soft kisses on your neck.
“you are toooo cute.” he mumbles against your neck, and his warm breath gives you goosebumps.
“do you want me?” he asks, and you are speechless. you’ve been wanting him, thinking of him while sober and not so sober. you’ve dreamed about this, yet now that he’s offering himself on a silver platter all you can do is nod. he slightly tightens his hold on your waist.
“words, baby.”
your embarrassed face presses into the top of his head as he continues to lay kisses down your throat. you can only hope that this is not just a really, really good dream.
“i want you, jaemin. so bad.”
immediately you are pushed onto your back on the couch, jaemin’s lips back on yours and your hands threading through his hair.
he slots himself in between your legs, grinding into you slowly as your hips jump up to meet his. he begins to kiss a trail from your throat down to your stomach, his warm hands finding their way under your shirt and sweatpants to meet your bare hips.
“can i take these off?” he punctuates his question with a snap of your waistband.
“please,” you reply, feeling yourself begin to ache, but suddenly jaemin remembers something.
you look at him confused as he gets up, reaching around to two handles at the bottom of the couch. he pulls the handles, and you are met with a whole new couch section.
“you’re telling me it was a pull-out couch this whole time??” you complain. your nights with him were comfortable, but the extra couch space to sprawl out changes everything.
“hey, it’s usually just me on this couch and i have more than enough room, so i kinda just forgot okay?” he pouts as he returns to his task, pulling your sweatpants off of you.
you start to laugh until you feel his warm breath on your underwear. the sight of him looking at you from between your legs is something straight out of a wet dream, and you’re pleading.
“please jaemin..”
“please what, angel?”
you clench at the new nickname. you crave nothing more than for him to bury himself between your legs.
“please touch me.”
he pushes your underwear aside, and dives right in. you gasp at the feeling, feeling the wind knocked out of you as your hands immediately meet his head.
he groans at the feeling of you alternating between pushing his head deeper and tugging at his hair. the vibrations send chills down your spine, and your moans increase in volume as he lays sloppy kisses over your bud, eventually sucking it between his soft lips.
if you thought his lips felt heavenly on yours earlier, his lips on your most intimate parts takes it to a higher dimension. at some point, he slips your underwear completely off, getting right back into action.
he doesn’t let up, slipping his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out.
you feel the tension build in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter until a curl of his fingers sends you over the edge with a strangled moan. he works you through your orgasm, laying a final kiss before making his way back up your body at the feeling of your hands pushing his head away from your core.
“are you okay, angel?” you look at his smiling face, his beautiful lips covered in a wet sheen. if this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up. something hard and hot at your thigh snaps you out of your admiration.
“i’m perfect, jaem, but how about you?” you ask as you catch your breath, shifting your thigh against his bulge.
this catches him off guard and a deep groan leaves him. it’s music to your ears and you want to hear it again and again.
“let me ride you jaemin. please,” you present the idea to him and he brightens up, only to pull a worried expression.
“are you sure it’s okay? do you have enough energy?” he’s still the same jaemin you’ve come to appreciate, always wanting you to be comfortable. you just want to make him feel good, too.
“of course jaemin, i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to.” the worried expression leaves at your words as he takes off his pants and underwear. you pause as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a condom that he rolls onto his aching member.
“is there any other surprises this couch has?” you ask jokingly.
he laughs and he helps you up into straddling him as he leans against the back of the couch.
you grind on him as he softly pecks at your neck, feeling the vibrations of his low groans on your skin. you raise yourself and begin to lower yourself onto him, hissing at the stretch of his cock inching into your entrance.
“fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out inch by inch, helping by pushing his hips up to meet yours. you moan at the feeling, with no one you’ve ever hooked up with being as thick as jaemin.
you bounce slowly, and you build a steady rhythm as you shut your eyes at the almost euphoric feeling. the combination of his cock reaching far deep into you and the weed coursing through your system has your entire body tingling. you open your eyes to peek at jaemin, who looks to be going through the same thing.
his brows are furrowed, and he’s letting out delicious groans with each bounce. he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, and like magnets your lips meet.
“you feel so good, angel, so fucking good,” he murmurs against your lips. his hands move from your hips to your ass and he plants his feet into the couch.
a harsh thrust has you clinging onto him for dear life as he starts to piston into you, chasing your highs.
the two of your moans fill his living room as he speeds up, hitting you deeper and deeper until you’re reaching another mind numbing orgasm. your pulsing sends jaemin over the edge, and he pulls out, pulling the condom off to finish himself over his own stomach.
you plop onto your side, too tired to hold yourself up as you detach yourself from jaemin. you feel the weight of the couch shift and start to drift off until jaemin shakes you gently.
“sleep over? you can borrow some clothes and we can finish that movie.” you’re way too tired to think about going home and don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re quick to mutter a sleepy “okay.”
he gives you a hoodie and some pajama pants, and he goes back to his room to change his own clothes.
coming back to the sight of you in his hoodie, jaemin smiles to himself before sliding in with you to retire for the night.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
you are surprised to see that first night did not sour your growing friendship at all. movie nights and order pickups still continued, but the two of you fall into a different kind of routine. weed was slowly pushed from the center relationship. yes, he would have you over to smoke you out, but more and more you find that you get lost in conversation or a show before you can even take one puff.
either way, half the time you ended up finding yourself under him, or him under you. afterwards he lets you sleep over or walks you home after a short nap, depending on the time and if you have work.
while you’re glad nothing got awkward, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment from your growing desire to be more to him. to have more of him. all of him.
it always was some combination of talking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking with jaemin, but the two of you never talked about what your relationship was. you’ve become comfortable with your arrangement, being willing to put aside the pangs in your chest to continue these nights with him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
“he got you, didn’t he..” shotaro teases over the video call, catching up on the past few months since his move. he zeroed in on the numerous times you mentioned his recommended plug, knowing the charming nature of his friend.
“why are you saying that like you knew it would happen??” you bite back at his teasing, and he quickly clarifies.
“no, no, i was genuinely just introducing him to you as a plug, but i’ve known the dude for a while. he’s a great host, a great friend and overall, he’s a reeaaally great guy. if something happens, i approve.”
he’s echoing a similar jaemin spiel to the ones he went on before you met the man, but you can’t help but agree now that you know him just as well.
“i know, i know, but let’s talk about something other than jaemin.” you haven’t talked to taro in a while, and you didn’t want to spend your whole call recalling how well jaemin’s treated you. the more you think about it, feelings of uncertainty in the nature of your relationship also follow.
“okay, well anyways, i’ve been into this really cool new strain. they call it strawberry shortcake and it’s just crazy, you need to try it.” before you can respond, taro cuts in.
“you might need to get it somewhere else, though, let me see if another of my buddies around there has it.” you haven’t gone to any other plugs since you met jaemin, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to start now.
“don’t you think i can just get it from jaemin? he’d probably want to try.” he gives you a perplexed stare in response.
“i don’t think so, jaemin hates strawberries. i’m surprised that hasn’t come up at all?” the news from taro leaves you shocked.
you recall how jaemin didn’t have your beloved strawberry cough in stock when you first met him, but since then he’s never ran out. he could have just said from the beginning that he doesn’t carry it in stock.
was he buying it just for you? is he smoking what you like even if he doesn’t? if he is, what does that mean? the thoughts threaten to send your mind spiraling.
you try to push them aside to continue your chat.
once you finish your conversation with your friend and head to bed, you fight against a hopeful little voice in your head telling you that jaemin might just feel the same way as you.
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the next day, you initiate plans with jaemin, wanting to finish up a show the two of you started. he lets you know you can come over that evening after some customers leave, assuring you they won’t take long.
you head over to his place, heading up the elevator. you’ve never seen any of jaemin’s neighbors before, so you’re surprised when the doors open to a gorgeous girl. her hair is a slight mess, but she works it.
she offers a polite “excuse me” before going into the elevator to head down. as you pass her, you get a whiff of something very familiar.
fresh herbs, florals, and something.. sweet? you ponder on the scent on the short walk down the hall to jaemin’s. he opens the door with the same smile as always, and leads you inside when you smell it.
the same scent you smelled at the elevator.
strawberry cough.
“did you get started without me?” you try to keep a light hearted tone, trying to pry as much as you can without giving your suspicisons away.
“just a bit, a customer came by earlier and wanted to try out some of my stash, but they didn’t want to smoke alone so i had a hit or two.” he smiles innocently. your eyes move to the tv to see the show you were planning to watch already playing on the screen. your heart sinks.
jaemin is a really good guy. he’s so special to you and you feel like slowly but surely you’ve become just as special to him.
when you sit down, you ask him to put on a different movie, wanting to continue the show another time. you can’t seem to focus and the joint passed to you tastes a little more bitter than usual. your thoughts fester.
jaemin is a really good guy, but he is good to everyone. he’s so special to you, but you’re not sure anymore if you have even began to brush the surface of being anything more than a good friend.
even if you’re sleeping together, you weren’t exclusive, and it’s not like you’re the only one he watches shows with or his only smoking buddy, either.
neither of you ever moved to define what went on between you two, and that little voice from last night is telling you now that maybe there just wasn’t anything in need of defining in the first place.
you finish the movie with minimal conversation and ask him to walk you home, citing your change in demeanor to a long, tiring day.
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wanting to sort out your feelings, you decide you need a break from your regular visits, but 1 week of excuses and avoiding his invitations quickly turns into 3.
“shit.” you check your weed jar to find your strawberry cough stash running dangerously low. gnawing at your lip, you still can’t find it in you to reach out to jaemin, even if its just as a customer.
you’ve wanted to go back every time he’s invited you, but since the day you concluded that nothing actually special was going on between you two, you don’t know if you can act normal. you don’t know if you could lay under him, looking into his deep brown eyes and not tell him you are probably madly in love with him.
you needed some time to cool your feelings off. you’d be back after you sort it out, and everything would hopefully go back to the way it was.
you head to work and put your thoughts aside for now, actually grateful that there’s a line of customers to keep your mind busy. when it slows down a bit, you see a familiar face of a boy with rose gold hair.
yangyang was a friend you met through shotaro, seeing him in a lot of blunt rotations you’ve been in at shotaro’s functions.
“hey, yangyang! how are you?” you ask cheerily.
he’a quick to return your greeting, always being a pretty chill person to see even if you don’t know each other too well.
“not too bad, just running some errands. heading to my plug later, how are you?”
a lightbulb turns on in your head at his plans. the answer to your dilemma has arrived.
“better now, could i ask you a favor actually?”
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jaemin hears his doorbell ring, but he’s slow to get the door. he knows it’s not you, so what’s the rush? he grabs his customer’s order from his kitchen table and heads over.
even though he knows it isn’t you, a part of him wishes it was. he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks, and it’s driving him crazy. you’ve just rejected another invitation to finish up that show you started, and he’s lost count now of how many times that’s happened.
he knows you’re busy, but he can also sense that something is off. he’s been scouring his memories for anything he could have done to upset you for the past week or so, but he can’t come up with anything.
he tries to assure himself that it’s just a schedule thing, nothing personal. he’s gotten used to your smoking habits, and he knows you’ll be running low soon.
it’s only a matter of time until you need to come see him, right? he can only hope that you want to.
he opens his door to see yangyang, one of his regular customers. he’s expecting a quick transaction, not really in the mood for small talk.
“hey yangyang, everything’s here.” jaemin hands yangyang the bag.
“hey, thanks. really quick though, can i add on an eighth of strawberry cough if you have any?” yangyang asks.
“i might, you trying something new?” jaemin responds, interest piqued at the familiar strain.
“nah, picking up some for a friend,” yangyang responds. jaemin’s eyes narrow slightly.
yangyang usually gets the same few things in rotation every time, but he’s never once asked for strawberry cough. jaemin wouldn’t think anything of it usually, but he’s a little sensitive at the mention of your favorite.
“oh, do i know them? maybe a potential new customer?” jaemin tries to disguise his prying as a new opportunity for him as a plug, but he’s just hoping the bad feeling in his gut isn’t true.
“it’s for my friend ___, they asked me to pick some up. do you know them?” his heart drops at the mention of your name.
jaemin goes silent for a second.
“..gotcha, i think i’m actually out right now but i’ll let you know when i have some back in stock.” jaemin lies, knowing he has a couple bags left, but there’s a bitter feeling making his stomach turn.
yangyang shrugs and says he’ll let you know, and then he’s on his way.
shutting the door with a heavy sigh, he goes to lay on his couch, which he’s had in its full pulled out state since the first night you slept together.
he remembers your dazed, glossy eyes, soft lips, and the way you lean into him. he remembers the way you look when he’s got you pressed into his cushions.
he hasn’t heard your voice in so long, the sweet sound of your laugh. he misses you.
jaemin picks up his phone.
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when you get his call, you’re lying in bed already. it’s 7pm on a friday night, and you are spending it moping around instead of going out with your friends.
you miss jaemin, his apartment, his smile, the way he’d spoil you in so many ways, everything. you’d rather be laying on that couch right now, but you know you shouldn’t.
it’s just as you start to push jaemin out of your brain that your phone starts ringing with that familiar caller id. his picture pops up, a cute one you took of him in his bedroom after a smoke sesh awhile back.
caught off guard, you end up picking it up right away, and the voice you’ve missed so badly sends waves through the speakers.
“hi, angel, are you free this weekend?”
that nickname with his deep voice is already undoing any “cooling off” you’ve done in the time apart from him.
“i’m not sure yet, what’s up?“ your voice comes out clear despite your nerves.
“i know you’ve been busy, but i thought you might be running a little low on your stash, can i come by to drop some off?” he offers.
your first instinct is to make up an excuse because you honestly aren’t prepared to see him, but you feel like you’ve made enough excuses by now. you’ve missed the sound of his voice and hearing it over the phone is your breaking point.
as much as you’ve tried to push aside your growing feelings, it’s only fair to both you and him if you finally lay down your boundaries.
“actually jaem, if you’re still free tonight, can we finish that show?”
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
even though he insisted on picking you up, you decide you need the 20 minute walk to jaemin’s to calm yourself. your head is full of so many “what if’s,” and in no time you find yourself in front of his building. you see a familiar head of dark hair standing outside.
“there you are, angel,” he says as soon as you are in his sight, and he brings you into a tight hug. you immediately relax into his hold, not realizing how much your body missed his familiar touch.
“i-“ you start, but he shushes you.
“it’s cold out here, let’s go upstairs.”
he takes you up to his apartment, and you’re happy to see it’s still as comfy as you remember. he’s got the heater on, and it feels good on your cold face. he seats you on his couch as he always has, rubbing your arms up and down to get rid of the last bit of outside chill.
“what have you been up to? it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, baby.”
while it isn’t new for him to be this cuddly, it’s usually later into your nights together. you remind yourself your intention for tonight, and you decide you need to get this over with.
you separate yourself from him, putting some space between you.
“i’ve been okay, jaem. but i came because i really need to talk to you.” he waits for you to continue, anxiety growing at your somber expression.
“i don’t think i’ll be able to come around anymore.”
jaemin frowns deeply. “i mean, it’s already been a while since you were over, even if you’re busy i don’t mind waiting, it’s no pressure at all?”
“no, i don’t mean that. i just don’t think i can stay in this sort of relationship with you anymore.” you are dancing around what you want to say, but it’s just so hard to get it out.
his heart sinks.
“because there’s someone else around?” you jump at jaemin’s voice, which has lowered at your words.
“what?”
he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. it’s the first time you’ve seen him this distressed.
“jaemin, where is that coming from??” he says nothing, and it seems like he’s also having a hard time figuring out what to say.
“look jaem, this isn’t on you or anyone else. i’m grateful for all you do for me, you’re a really good friend and i love the time we spend together.” you bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“but i feel like i’ve started to rely on you too much, to expect and want more. it’s a lot, too much even. i don’t want to get my hopes up about anything, so i need to back off a bit.”
“hopes up?” jaemin looks at you with an unreadable expression. “what do you mean by that?” his own hopes start to rise.
you look down at your hands, debating on what to say. but you owe him the truth, even if it changes things between the two of you. honesty and time could save the platonic bond, even if it severs any hope of a romantic one.
“i like you jaem, i like you a lot and i don’t think i can be just friends with you, at least for right now.”
the silence following your confession is deafening.
he calls your name gently, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“___, my angel.” he repeats.
he takes your hand gently in his, and your eyes move from your hands to see him smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.
he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. his warm soft lips fit perfectly with yours and you melt into him, your hands threading through his hair. he kisses you like a starved man, and he pulls you closer and tighter.
you’re breathless when he pulls away after a while, his lips red and starting to swell.
“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that.” his eyes are piercing through you.
“i like you, too, and i don’t want to just be your friend. i’m sorry you had to say it first.” you want to cry hearing his confession, but instead wrap your arms around his neck and bring him back into a heated kiss.
you have to be dreaming. you’ve only thought about putting a stop to your feelings for jaemin for almost a month now, but the feeling of this man being in your arms knowing he feels the same way now is so surreal.
jaemin pushes you gently to rest on your back, his hand moving down as his lips stay glued to yours. he feels the same way. he likes you.
“angel, let me take care of you, please.” jaemin’s gaze holds so much intensity.
“i’m yours, jaemin.”
hearing that, he dives right back into your lips with a fervor even greater than earlier, his hands tugging at your pants and underwear to remove them.
he’s always been so intentional with his touches, always seeming to know the perfect way to touch you. your words, however, activate a desperation of wanting to feel more of you and it translates into his rushed, almost clumsy hands.
he cups your heat with one hand as the other sneaks under your shirt to knead at your chest.
you are getting wetter by the second, and jaemin pushes one finger into you. your lips leave his as you moan loudly at the intrusion, and his head moves down to meet his hand at your core.
“jaemin, wait.” he pauses.
“i want you to feel good, too.” jaemin chuckles.
“don’t mind me baby, there’s no greater pleasure for me than making you feel good.”
his words have you wanting to press his skillful mouth onto you as soon as possible, but you stop yourself. “let’s do it together then.”
his eyes almost bulge out of his head at the idea, and the idea goes straight to his cock. he can already feel himself pulsing with need.
“69?? you are too fucking good to me, angel.” and immediately he has you flipped over, with your heat hovering over his face and his cock in your hands.
he starts to lick at you, straining his neck up while you get to work taking him into your mouth. you get into a good rhythm, feeling his groans on your core.
you feel him smile as he harshly tugs your hips down onto his face. you gasp, trying go back into hovering. jaemin’s strong hold doesn’t let you move.
“don’t hover, sit on my face, please.” he goes in again on you, alternating between slurping loudly and swiping his tongue all over.
your legs give out at this and he lets out a deep groan at the feeling of you pressed into him. you give a hard suck on his tip and take him back into your mouth. the vibration from your moans has him seeing stars.
“oh my god,” he mumbles into your core. he separates himself from you for a moment.
“baby, baby stop, sit up, angel.” he pulls you off of him.
“that pretty mouth feels too good, gonna cum too soon,” he pants. “i’ve got you, just sit pretty and leave it to me okay?”
you want to keep going, but jaemin’s back at your entrance like a madman, pulling you to sit on him completely again. his tongue reaches deep into you. he’s moving your hips back and forth, and his chin digs into your bud.
the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, and he has you cumming on his face with a loud cry. he helps you ride through your orgasm and you detach yourself from him as he catches his breath.
when he rises, he moves to pull a box from under the couch, but you stop him.
“no, no, please just give it to me, i want to feel all of you.” he looks at you concerned.
“i’m on the pill and i haven’t slept with anyone else since we started fucking, so please just do it.”
his heart is absolutely swooning at your pleading for his dick and your revelation that you’ve been his since the beginning. he stations himself between your legs.
“you’ve got it, baby, you’re my only one, too.” with that, he inserts himself into you, his tip beginning that delicious stretch.
it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and jaemin takes his time inch by inch despite wanting nothing more than to ram into you in one go.
“you’re mine, angel, i like you so much and i want you all for myself.”
he groans as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to him, but he can feel himself throbbing inside of you.
“please move, jaemin, i need it so bad.” he’s more than happy to oblige, starting to speed up his thrusts gradually until he’s fully thrusting in and out.
he reaches so fully deep into you, and he pulls out all the way to his tip before snapping his hips into you again.
“you’re so perfect. my angel, my baby, my ___.” he’s whispering sugary sweet words into your ear, and that in combination with his thrusts make your head start to float as your eyes roll back. this feeling is better than any high weed could give you.
“jaemin, jaemin, jaemin,” your cries of his name only encourage him to go faster, hit deeper. his hand presses into your lower stomach, and his fingers rub circles into your bud.
“cum for me, you can do it, just let go.” and you do just that, your back arching off the couch. jaemin pulls out and immediately plunges his fingers back into you to ride out your orgasm.
at this point, his cock is leaking, desperate and throbbing with the need to cum, but he wants you in one more way tonight.
he flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and teasing your slit with the head of his cock. he plunges back in with a deep groan and begins fucking into you.
your head is clouded from your orgasms and the feeling of overstimulation, and you almost dont feel him reach for something. you hear the clicking of a lighter.
looking behind you, you see jaemin lighting a pipe, all while fucking into you still. he takes a deep inhale, holding it in before blowing it out away from you.
if you had this view on video, you’d be able to get off to it anytime, anywhere. you clench around him tightly as you see him blow out the smoke. your eyes are glued to him.
he notices your gaze. “do you want some, pretty baby?”
you nod hurriedly, turning your head back front as his thrusts push you up the couch. he takes another hit.
a strong hand reaches around to pull you so that your back is pressed against his front. he turns your face to him as he blows smoke into your open mouth. you clench even tighter, and he closes the distance and kisses you sloppily. the smoke is seeping out past both of your mouths, filling the room.
“you’re mine. i’m yours, only yours.” he growls into your ear.
he fucks into you, holding you around your mid section with both of you on your knees. he lets go to hold onto your hips and you slump back onto the couch, unable to hold yourself up. he speeds up, thrusts turning sloppier by the second.
“f-fuck, angel. i’m so close. let me fill you up, i’ll give it to you so good.”
you clench at the promises he’s moaning out loud and he gets closer and closer to his peak. his thrusts are all over the place, desperate to finish as you lock your ankles around his to start rocking your hips back onto his.
“could treat you ten times better than anyone else. no one else for me. you’re the only one i’d ever want or need, only you.”
his sugary words are spilling out and the feeling is all too much as his hips stutter, cumming inside you with a deep, strangled groan. you milk him dry as he empties himself into you, toppling over to lie next to you.
the two of you lie side by side, trying to catch your breath, and he pulls you close to him.
you are emotionally and physically exhausted, but jaemin gets up after a few minutes, coming back with a towel and hoodie.
he cleans you up and helps you to your feet to use the restroom.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
when you settle back into the couch after getting ready for bed, he puts on your show as you cuddle into his side. everything feels so familiar, yet so different without the feelings of uncertainty. you look up at him.
“when were you going to tell me you hated strawberries?” your question catches him off guard.
“who said that??” he chuckles nervously, but he knows he’s been caught and there’s no arguing.
“no seriously, you didn’t have to force yourself or buy that strawberry cough just for me.” you do feel a little bad that he was, even if it was his own free will.
he pauses.
“i just needed something to keep you coming back, aside from my pull out couch of course,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. but his words hold truth.
“you should’ve known a month in that you didn’t need strawberry cough to keep me coming back,” you let out a little laugh at how cute he was being.
“imagine the betrayal i felt knowing that you were going to someone else for it though??”
you look at him confused. gears click in your brain when you remember the rose-haired friend you'd talked to earlier that day.
“oh, you know yangyang?” it makes sense given jaemin, shotaro, and yangyang share many mutual friends.
“yes i know the asshole. gonna monopolize it so you don’t ever cheat on me again.” he pouts.
“yes, yes, boyfriends get official exclusive plug rights,” you joke. “as long as you’re not smoking my strawberry cough with anyone else.”
“i won’t even sell it to anyone anymore, it’s reserved for my angel only. and boyfriend?” he smiles and kisses you gently. “i like the sound of that.”
after a few more kisses, you turn your attention back to the show, but jaemin pulls his pipe back out.
“does that mean we can smoke something not strawberry flavored tonight?” he asks, looking relieved.
you laugh and give him the OK, and he’s more than happy to pull out a whole array of different strains he’s been wanting to try with you. you sweat at the variety, but you know you have more than enough time to try them all now that you’re sure he’s yours, and you’re his.
end.
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if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! this is my first full length fic and i hope to write more in the future <3 i hope u enjoyed! shares and feedback are appreciated -coco :)
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Title: Gorefest.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.
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You found his latest gift on your doorstep.
It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.
You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.
He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.
You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”
“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”
“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”
You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”
His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”
You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”
You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”
A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”
“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”
The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.
You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.
You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.
“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”
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bubblebaththoughts · 4 months
Text
Breeding
Aged up!Olo’eyktan!Neteyam x Fem!Na’vi!Reader
kinkmas masterlist
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, p in v, breeding kink, making the bond :),
translations:
Tsakarem - Tsahik in training
Tsaheylu - the bond
After the war, The Sully’s thanked the Metkayina and returned home.
With the exception of Lo’ak, he stayed with the reef people to be with Tsireya.
Tarsem wanted to step down from Olo’eyktan, but Jake refused to take the role away from the younger man, so Tarsem placed the responsibility on Neteyam.
With Neytiri gone, Mo’at had to find the next Tsahik, you.
And so you became Tsakarem.
Neytiri always knew that she didn’t ever truly desire to be Tsahik, she always wanted to be a warrior, so she was secretly glad that you took over her role.
Nonetheless, The return of the Sully’s threw you for a loop.
Suddenly, your courtship with Tarsem had ended, and you were arranged to be mated with Neteyam. Which, you didn’t really mind, you just wanted to continue your duty to the clan, it didn’t matter to you who you mated with.
It felt so… domestic.
Watching you teach the kids of the clan different skills.
Weaving, sewing, carving, healing.
You seemed to know everything there was to know.
He knew that being you being Tsakarem, you needed to know all of those things and more.
He wanted them to be his children that you both would teach them everything you knew.
He would put twelve of them in you right now, if you asked.
“You have duties, Neteyam, focus.” His father interrupted his train of thought
“Yes. Sorry sir. What were you saying?” Neteyam looked back at him
Jake merely shook his head.
“You know, you watch her a lot.” Jake discreetly pointed at you
“She is to be my mate, of course I have to look at her.” Neteyam flushed
Jake laughed, again shaking his head, “No… the way you stare is, it’s something else.”
It was the absolute most pestering desire to put a baby in you.
“I don’t know… I don’t know much about her and… I’m curious.” He shrugged
Jake gave his son a knowing look, “What ever you say.”
It wasn’t like you were a stranger to him, you were friends before him and his family left, but now there’s a bit of a rift because of the sudden circumstances you’ve both been put in.
He caught you slipping out of Mo’at’s hut that night, a smile on his face as he realized you were alone.
“Oh! Neteyam! You scared me.” You sighed as he stepped our of the dark
“I’m sorry, syulang… didn’t mean to.” He circled you, like a predator that had cornered its prey
Eywa… what was he doing? He felt almost animalistic as he watched your chest rise and fall.
“You know… When it’s time, we’re gonna need to be really comfortable around each other.” Neteyam tilted his head down at you
“I’m comfortable with you Neteyam.” You replied, an indescribable look in your eye
Neteyam placed his hands on your hips, pulling you against him.
“I don’t know if you know…” He cleared his throat, trying to not notice how close you two were “But we’re supposed to… create the next leaders.”
You nod slightly “Of course.”
“That doesn’t bother you, right?” His hand gripped your hips roughly
“Of course not.” You answered
“You can always say no but, I want to start that process sooner, rather than later.” Neteyam watched your face for any doubt.
His voice is gentle as he speaks, but his words are heavy. He's telling you about his desire to have a baby with you, and he's trying desperately to convince you. You can tell he means it, but it's still a lot to take in.
You don't know what to say. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling overwhelmed. You want to tell him no, or that it was too soon, and on the other hand, you wanted to have a child with him and secure your spot in his life.
He looks into your eyes, and you can see the promise he's making. He'll be a good father and take care of you, you know he would.
You take a deep breath and slowly start to nod your head. You can feel your heart racing as you agree to what he's asking.
He takes your hands, pressing small kisses to them, feeling a sudden wave of warmth and comfort.
“Knew you’d do it.” He leaned in, kissing your neck
He leads you back to the hut that you two would soon share in the near future, laying you down on the soft, handmade mat that was adorned with different things given to Neteyam since he became Olo’eyktan.
“Neteyam…” You moan as he settled between your legs
“Hm? What is it?” He mumbled in between kisses you your neck and jaw
“Need- need to make Tsaheylu, to get pregnant.” You tell him
He pulls back with a smirk “I know.”
He pulls his kuru to dangle in front of you.
“You’re serious? Right now?” You can’t help but laugh
“Why not? Might be breaking a couple rules, but I want this… you want this. And why should we delay something that’s already predetermined?” He explained
“Right…” You nodded, reaching back to bring your own kuru to your front.
He brings his down to yours, you feel a tingling feeling as they seemed to have a pull on each other.
The tendrils danced around each other before joining together.
Your senses felt incredibly heightened, like you could suddenly feel every nerve in your body.
Neteyam leans down, kissing your lips with a fiery passion.
While he’s distracted you, he’s untying both you and his loincloths, discarding them across the hut. His broad shoulders and arms seem to completely cage you in.
Everything was him.
You were feeling him, tasting him, seeing him, smelling him, hearing him.
Him. Him. Him.
He’s gotten you naked now, a small pinch of insecurity is nagging at you but you brush it away as soon as he begins to mumble little praises under his breath.
He pulls away from you, leaning back on his knees in between your leg as he tried to guide the thick tip of his cock to your entrance.
He watches as it goes in, little by little. His jaw hangs open as a breathy groan emits from his throat.
“Fuck- So fucking tight.” His eyes shut for half a second
He looks back down to you as he was leaning in, his arms caging you in once again.
“Baby…” He moans, “Too much?”
You shake your head no.
“Squeezing me so much…” He growled “Here, play with that clit for me, relax baby.”
Tears brim your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by new feelings and new sensations all at once.
“Oh my poor baby.” Neteyam mumbled, his hand finding the back of your head and pulling you into his shoulder.
He gives you a second before he pulled your head back, and placed a kiss on your lips.
As he held you against himself, he began to thrust into you, small and slow thrusts, but just enough to get you whining.
“Play with your clit baby, don’t you dare stop.” He growled at you
You listen, desperately rubbing at your clit.
Neteyam uses his thumb to wipe the tears from your eyes, whispering to you how good you feel.
“Gonna stretch this tight ass pussy out…” He moaned “Gonna make this pussy remember me.”
“Neteyam…” You whine “I need it.”
“Shh, I know baby.” He comforted you, as he nestled his head in your neck and placed gentle kisses on it
His thrusts slowly sped up, making your whines louder.
“Yeah there it goes.” Neteyam chuckled “You can cum on it. Cum on it baby.”
You let out a particularly loud moan as you came on his cock. Your head turned to the side where you held onto his bicep for dear life, leaning forward and let your teeth sink into his sweaty skin.
He tasted like a sweet and salty mixture, something indescribable.
He yelped in pain, his head dropped down to your neck, breathing heavily as he continued to roughly thrust into you.
Once you released him, he pulled back from you, a smile on his lips as he saw your fucked out face.
“Oh look at you.” His hand came up to rest on your cheek, and he began to gently caress your cheek with his thumb.
“Feels so good!” You cry to him
“I know, fuck I know.” He groaned “Gonna cum baby, gonna fucking cum in you.”
You threw your head back at his words, too many feelings all at once that made you feel so intensely overwhelmed. As if they’d never stopped, your tears began to roll again. Your legs wrapped around his waist as a sob escaped your lips.
He put his forehead against yours and pushed your hair out of your face, his eyes full of sympathy.
“It’s alright.” He whispered “Just be a good girl..”
“It’s too much.” You cried
“I know, I’m about to cum, hang on for me.” He moaned “Gonna make you get pregnant… Gonna breed this tight little pussy until it takes.”
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, continuous moan falling from your lips as his thrusts speed up. He’s completely relentless, whispering praises into your ear.
“Oh, Oh my- fuck I’m cumming.” He growled “Cumming in this little pussy… Gonna give you all of my kids…”
He whispered dirty promises to you until you felt the warmth of his cum fill you. You cry out to him from the new sensation, holding onto him firmly.
Even after he’s done, he doesn’t pull out. Opting to instead roll the both of you on your sides and pulling you closer together.
“Gonna fill you up every day until it takes.” He tiredly whispered to you
“A threat or promise?” You jokingly tease him
“Take it as you will.” He shrugged
taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut
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brucewaynehater101 · 1 month
Text
Red Robin AU: Maximum Angst
Tim left to go save Bruce. It didn't matter that no one believed him. It didn't matter that his loved ones, people he trusted, tried to stop him. It didn't matter that everyone wrote his theories off as some sort of mental breakdown and grief stage denial. None of that mattered.
Tim was right, and he was going to prove it.
Two years after Tim left, Dick gets a phone call. It's from Superman.
During a JL mission, some villain gets away from a large JL team up by mentioning one fact: Bruce died in the timestream waiting for someone to save him. He had left clues, as many as he could given his circumstances, of his continued existence and predicament.
Dick, with the help of Damian and some of the JL, leaves Gotham to gather the evidence. Even after two years, art curators and museums are weirdly tense when he brings up the exact piece he wants to see.
A few months of carefully collecting his dad's last momentos occur before Dick has the realization: Tim was right.
Oh gods, Tim!
He can't believe, with all the responsibilities he had to juggle, that he just forgot about Tim!
This cues another frantic search as Dick retraces all of Tim's steps. The man allows himself a little laugh when he realizes that Alvin Draper is wanted for being an art thief.
Despite the sloppily covered trails, Dick finds himself at a dead end. The last location Tim might have gone to is in the middle of a desert. When Dick arrives at the spot, an LoA assassin is waiting for him.
Batman is glad that he's dressed in his uniform, he's glad that Damian didn't accompany him, and Dick prepares for the attack.
The assassin regards him neutrally.
The vigilante lowers his fists, but he's still tense in preparation. The assassin rolls their eyes and holds their hand out.
There's a com.
"What's that for?" Batman growls out.
Another eye roll from the assassin as they sigh. "Ra's knows you're looking for Timothy Drake-Wayne."
Hesitantly, the retired acrobat plucks up the com. After placing it in his ear, a smug voice greets him.
The Demon's Head cordially invites Batman to dinner.
Great.
Dick, wanting to find out where his brother is, has no choice but to follow the assassin to what's most definitely a trap.
Later, when Dick is haunted by the memories he desperately combs to liberate himself from his guilt, he'll darkly chuckle as he longs for it to have been a trap.
When the doors swing open to reveal Ra's al Ghul lounging at the head of the table, a feast is laid out before the young man. He forces himself to sit at the opposite end and listen to Ra's prattle on and on about how extraordinary Tim is. How the young outcast knew his father was alive. How he had to resort to taking Ra's hand in order to finish his quest.
As the evening is winding down, Dick had only spoken a handful of sentences. Ra's swirls a wine glass and gazes wistfully into its crimson hue.
"It's a shame, Richard, that it took you twenty-six months to scour for information about Timothy. I'm sure the realization of such would bring him despair."
There's a pause as the Detective's successor runs mental calculations. It has been thirty months since Tim left Gotham.
Emerald eyes, not too dissimilar to the shade of green Dick's son owns, bear down on a man too small for Batman's mantle.
"He died knowing his death would kill his father. It's a shame we lost them both that day."
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kitixie · 9 months
Text
Little Girl Gone
Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)
part two: here
Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 
information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!
warnings: none for this chapter!
please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!
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“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 
You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 
“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 
Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 
“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 
“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 
‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 
“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 
You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 
“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 
“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 
You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.
‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’
‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’
‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’
Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 
While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 
“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”
Fuck. 
Fuck. 
“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 
“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 
“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”
“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 
You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 
“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 
“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 
“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 
“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 
“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 
“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 
“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 
“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 
“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.
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isokoin · 11 months
Note
hi bub! i'd love to see miguel hc's about how he'd be for domestic stuff around the house. cooking/baking together, spending time together, cute things like that :D
miguel o'hara domestic headcanons
一 pairing; miguel o'hara x male reader
note: hi love, thank you for suggesting this. some soft content is a nice switch-up to what i usually put out. i hope you enjoy! ‹𝟹
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🗯️ when you're cooking, miguel loves to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. he nuzzles his face into the back of your nape and places soft kisses on your skin.
🗯️ if you ask him to taste test, he takes a few more bites than he's meant to. one time you asked him to watch over your soup and when you came back he finished a bowl of it already. needless to say, you were quite pissed and every time you asked for his help, you'd take 30 second intervals to make sure the food isn't gone.
🗯️ miguel LOVES to clean. this man dislikes having a disorganized place to work, let alone live in. ask him to dust the shelves? got it. you point to the trash? it's already taken out. you don't even need to ask him, he just does it. this also stems from his love for you, as acts of service are one of the ways he shows love.
🗯️ ever since you started dating, there hasn't been a day where you've done groceries by yourselves. the both of you ALWAYS do it together and have agreed that it's more fun that way. of course, he pushes the cart and you're looking through the grocery list. you don't trust him to do it because he ends up getting the wrong item, especially since he does not read labels... get this man out of the kitchen!
🗯️ adding on, he carries the grocery bags in for you. he does this thing where he challenges himself as to how many he can hold. so far, his record is 20. how does that work? you don't know. he finds a way to do it and it impresses you, which is what he wants to do.
🗯️ miguel is more of a baker than you are. when you mention that you want to bake, he becomes a different person who actually reads labels and does everything with perfection.
🗯️ one time you playfully threw flour on him and he took it too far by dumping the rest on your head. it was pretty funny, but he spent more than an hour trying to clean up the mess in the kitchen.
🗯️ he keeps up with his telenovela's and always asks you to watch it with him. he even saves it for when you're home to watch it and its the sweetest thing ever. how you could you ever say no?
🗯️ miguel loves being little spoon. never thinking that he was the type to before you started dating, you're now glad he's able to feel safe around you to do so.
🗯️ he reads and loves reading to you. sometimes he randomly comes up to you and reads a line, expecting you to understand what he means. without context, its quite confusing. but you nod your head and agree with him, which he then replies with "right?! i knew you'd agree!" and walk away. you blink a few times to process what just happened and then go about your day like normal, but its such a common occurrence you've gotten used to it. its like a routine and you feel incomplete without him doing it.
🗯️ simply being in each other's presence is enough for both of you. you can do two different things while existing in the same space and the comfort of one another is what you cherish the most.
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astarioffsimpmain · 4 months
Text
Cushioned Affections
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Gale x Astarion x F!Tav
Warnings: Poly relationship discussion; insecurity; mention of past relationship abuse
Synopsis: Tav is tired of waiting for Astarion to make his move, so she allows Gale to make his first. But will that put an end to her and her favorite vampire spawn?
Author's Note: I'm a day late, I know, but this fic is for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle 2023, hosted by @justporo with the prompt "Getting Cozy"!
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The chill that had settled over many of your nights in the last few months was slowly creeping its way into your days, infiltrating you and your motley crew through brisk winds that could cut through any armor and lay clothes, chilling you all to your very bones. The campfire became the favorite place of every one of your traveling companions - even Astarion, who usually preferred to observe the group’s frivolities from the entrance of his tent. But this evening, the aloof vampire had firmly wedged himself between you and your resident wizard, Gale, on one of the logs in front of the roaring flames. 
“There’s a perfectly clear spot next to Lae’zel, you know.” Gale mumbled, clearly unhappy with the current seating arrangements. 
“That seat could get me decapitated and I personally prefer to keep such beauty soundly attached, thank you very much.” Astarion replied haughtily, turning his nose up at the wizard’s suggestion before scooting closer to you, affronted. 
“Rightly assumed, spawn.” Lae’zel spat, not so much as glancing up from her soup bowl.
“Hah!” Astarion exclaimed triumphantly, sending a taunting expression Gale’s way as he wrapped his shawl tighter around his already cold body. 
“Well, I’m very glad you’ve joined us tonight, Stari.” you said, opening your arm to him and allowing him to snuggle close, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as your warmth enveloped him. “And Gale, thank you so much for the wonderful meal. I always forget I'm sleeping on the ground when you fix your soup.” 
The compliment settled in Gale’s cheeks as they tinged pink and a smile graced his lips for the first time since Astarion had forced the two of you apart. “Why thank you, Tav.” he sent a charming smile your way over the mess of white curls between you. “You flatter me too much.” 
“Yes, she does.” Lae’zel replied curtly, although she made no effort to hide her empty bowl. 
“Nah, this shit’s awesome, Gale.” Karlach piped up, already filling up her bowl for the third time. “Anybody need a warm-up?” 
“Me, if you would, Karlach.” Shadowheart passed her bowl across the fire to the tiefling, who grabbed it enthusiastically and held it between her palms as the flames beneath her skin crackled and popped to life for a few seconds before simmering down again. The contents of the bowl were now steaming as Karlach passed it back over to Shadowheart, who let out a pleased groan when the warmth hit her fingertips. 
“Thank you all.” Gale said, a pleased smile on his lips. “I’m glad I could deliver a measure of culinary satisfaction to our treacherously meager living accommodations.” 
“Darling, just say “thank you for the dick-stroking” and be done with it.” Astarion drawled, his eyes having lazily fallen closed once your fingers had wound their way into his hair. 
“I’ll have you know,” Gale’s voice rose as he spoke over Karlach and Shadowheart who had burst out laughing., “My honed verbosity is one of the most prevalent things that earned me a place as one of the most well-respected voices of wisdom in Waterdeep, and beyond.” 
“Oh yes, it was your tongue; of that I’m certain.” Astarion murmured, half asleep, and you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep the giggle from escaping as Karlach and Shadowheart descended into fits of cackling once again, while Lae’zel allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips. You even noticed Wyll choking back a chuckle over his soup. 
Gale shook his head disapprovingly, and you thought things may have gone too far until an amused smile crept across the wizard’s face and he shot you a quick glance with mirth dancing in his eyes. You smiled back at him, the chill of the evening all but melted away in the presence of your unlikely group of friends. 
After the fire had long since died, and many of your companions had retired to their own bedrolls in the shelter of their tents, you helped Gale clean up around the campfire, stacking bowls in on each other - deciding to wait for the warmth of the sun before taking them to the river to wash them out - and gathering the extra blankets to hoard for personal use. 
Astarion sat idly by, book in hand, while you both worked, only looking up from the pages and stretching languidly when you paused in front of him. “Well, darling, are you ready to hide away and curl up in our own little cocoon for the evening?” he cooed, batting his long eyelashes at you demurely. 
“Come on, Astarion, just say you’re desperate for a cuddle and be done with it.” Gale appeared over your shoulder smiling, pleased to have been given the chance to throw the words back in the vampire’s face. 
“Actually,” you stepped in front of Gale and swatted at him playfully. “Gale’s got a new volume of that Dark Elf tales I’ve been reading as of late, and he wanted to read a few chapters with me before we went our separate ways. Would you like to join us? I know how much you enjoy those stories.”
Astarion chortled dismissively, rolling his eyes. “I think I’d prefer freezing to death than getting anywhere near the “wizard of Waterdeep”’s personal stash.” 
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders and turning away. “Your choice. I’ll see you back in my tent afterwards either way. Although,” you pause, flipping your hair over your shoulder to match his dramatics. “It will be much warmer in Gale’s tent because we currently have all of the extra blankets. I do hope you’ll reconsider.” you teased, mimicking the vampire’s tonal lilt as you hoisted a few of the remaining blankets over your shoulder and walked off. In a few long strides, you caught up with Gale, who was struggling with his own bundle of blankets. 
“Do you think he’ll drop by?” his voice came out muffled, his face fully blocked from your vision by a mountain of fluff.
A giggle bubbled out of you, and you patted some of the blankets away from his eyes. A muffled “thank you” reached your ears. “I don’t know, but I hope so. I do wish he didn’t keep to himself so often; he shouldn’t be alone. But he has to choose to let in the warmth himself - and not just mine.” Gale nodded quietly - a rare occurrence - and led the way to his tent. 
You were ceaselessly amazed by the sheer number of books Gale Dekarios was able to keep with him; shelves upon shelves lined with volumes - everything from A Comprehensive History of Waterdeep to The Practicality of Learning the Weave and more - just waiting to dazzle you with the wonders inside. However, the books that caught your eye were front and center, at a perfect height for you - done intentionally, you had no doubt - was the Dark Elf trilogy, finally completed with a stunning hardback edition of Sojourn with a beautifully crafted image of the drow himself gracing the book jacket. 
“Gods, Gale, wherever did you find it?” you murmured softly, stroking the spine tenderly. 
"Ah, a wizard never reveals his secrets. But let’s just say, I do still have some influence in some of the cities we’ve passed through thus far, and was able to get my hands on a nice copy, just for you."
You clutched the book to your chest, beaming up at him from where you stood. "Thank you, Gale. Shall we read?" His heart skipped a beat, he thought, as he nodded and sat down amidst his pile of pillows and blankets and you settled in between his legs, your back pressing warmly against his chest as his arms wrapped around your front before his mind could even catch up with him. 
“Are- are you sure you and Astarion are just friends?” the words slipped from his lips and he cringed at himself, a large part of him fearing the question would bring you to your senses and he’d lose this intimate connection he’d found with you.
“No, I’m not.” you admitted softly and his heart dropped into his stomach, his arms wrapping tighter around you in anticipation of the loss. “But I’ve told him that I have feelings for you too, and I’ve told him that while I’m patient enough to wait for him, he needs to tell me to wait for him before I will. I’ve…” you paused, sniffling a little as the emotions welled up inside of you. “I’ve had my heart broken a lot by being led on, or by waiting for people who, in the end, chose someone else; someone more-” 
“Hey, shhh don’t do that.” Gale whispered in your ear, planting a chaste kiss there and squeezing you tight. “You’re plenty enough as you are, alright?” You nodded, breathing deep before continuing.
“I told him how much I care for him, and how much I’d like to have more with him. But I was also honest and told him how much I care for you, so I’ll tell you what I told him. If you need time, tell me to wait for you. Hopefully you’ll listen.” you mumbled the last part so softly that Gale could have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. But your words, your touch, your presence was his whole world right now, and he couldn’t possibly miss the sadness and longing left hanging in the air once you fell quiet. 
“Well… I hope he’ll come around soon. But in the meantime, I don’t need to wait. I know my answer right now.” he murmured against your ear, reveling in the shudder that traveled the length of your spine in his hold. You turned your head just enough to lock your penetrating gaze with his, waiting for him to say the words. You wouldn’t settle for interpretations; not any longer. “I care for you, greatly, Tav. And if you find it in that beautiful heart of yours to save a place for me, I’d gladly reside there for the rest of my days.” 
“Gale,” you whispered, your eyes clouding over with unshed tears of relief that flooded you like a sudden storm. He caught the emotions with his lips on yours, alleviating some of the weight of the emotional burdens that you had carried with you for all too long, and a sob escaped into his mouth. He swallowed the pain and lapped it up with his eager tongue, desperate to comfort your aching soul as his hands explored your body. You moaned softly into the kiss before pulling away, a little giggle leaving your lips as you nuzzled into his neck. You bit your bottom lip, your smile threatening to overtake the rest of your face as Gale's hands ran the lengths of your arms and back. "We're supposed to be reading." You chuckled, and Gale’s own laughter rumbled through your body in response. 
"Then let us read, my sweet." He pressed a kiss to your temple and plucked the book from your hands, opening it to the first page before conjuring a few mage hands to do the rest while he wound his arms tightly back around you and began to read aloud. 
You had enjoyed several chapters of the book together when a shadow moving outside caught your attention. You silenced Gale with a hand held in the air, your body tensing as you reached for your sword. 
"Uhm… hello?"
The soft, tentative voice coming through the flap had your muscles relaxing immediately. "Astarion," you exhaled in relief and pulled the tent flap open. He stood there in little more than his ruffled undershirt and pants, shivering ever so slightly from the cold; his eyes a catastrophic blend of hope, fear, and vulnerability as they locked onto you. "Oh gods, Stari, come in here, you're freezing!" You fussed worriedly, opening your arms to him like you so often did, and you didn't miss the sudden ease of his sharp facial features as he gave in to your embrace, pulled to it like a moth to a flame, and settled into your arms like he belonged there. He did belong there. 
You walked backwards, enough to seal the tent flap behind the elf, before your fingers found his curls as they always did, and he sighed happily as you scratched his scalp. He nuzzled closer to you, his icy cold nose finding a home in the nape of your neck as you calmed him. "I'm so glad you came." You mumbled into his hair and he merely hummed in response, pulling you flush against him and trailing his hands up and down your spine. After several quiet moments of quiet repose in each other's arms, you pulled back enough to look Astarion in the eyes. 
"I-" He spluttered, his gaze flicking to Gale then back to you. "I really wanted to get a look at this book of yours, Gale. As Tav said, I enjoy the dark drow stories myself." He brushed some wrinkles out of his white shirt awkwardly and you took the opportunity to shoot Gale a deadly glare. Play along, it said. Or else.
"Of course." Gale chirped, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Well, it truly is a beauty, isn't it Tav?"
"Definitely." You smiled in silent thanks and reached for Astarion's hand, pressing the pad of a finger into one of his and allowing him to do the rest. "Come on. We're on chapter 5, but I'll give you a summary of what's happened so far." You sat down beside Gale, and Astarion beside you, and you launched into the details of what Astarion had missed in the first five chapters, forgetting the world around you and all of its present dangers: the tadpoles, the mindflayers, the Absolute, all of it, and diving into the adventure yet again. Gale glanced over at the new visitor in his tent, initially with dubiosity; he'd had no intention of sharing you if that's what it came down to. However, his resolve wavered ever so slightly once he took in the vampire’s face as he looked at you. Gale didn't know Astarion could even look like that: his features softened, the harsh lines and wrinkles missing from his pale face, and his eyes wide with wonder and- Gale paused, realization slamming into him at full force as the vermillion glint of the vampire's eyes in the candlelight revealed his secrets. Gale recognized that look. It was the same look he had in his eyes when he looked at you. 
Love. 
And as he watched, Gale saw the same look in your eyes, no matter which man they were trained upon. "Godsdamn it." He thought. "What in the hells am I going to do?" 
"That's all that's happened so far." You clapped your hands together as you finished catching Astarion up. "Shall we continue?" You turned your head to Gale who said nothing, only nodded and prepared to cast another set of Mage Hands. 
"W-wait, for a moment." Astarion stopped him hesitantly. "I'd- well, I'd like to say something first, Tav." 
"Oh, of course." You looked back at him, your eyes wide and curious. 
"I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I never really knew how to put it into words. However, I- ugh this is so ridiculously awkward with the wizard here too." He buried his face in his hands. 
"I can leave for a moment if you-"
"Gods. No, it involves you, sit down." Astarion huffed, waving his hand in Gale's direction. 
"Very well." Gale remained as he was, perched precariously on a pillow, his full attention on the vampire spawn. 
"I've realized lately that, that I've never had someone who cares for me before - not that I can remember, anyway. And no one that could possibly measure up to you." He said the words to your fingers, which he had wrapped up in his own and was fiddling with tenderly in his lap. "I don't want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you so, even when you told me how. It didn't feel quite right, it didn't fit. But I can say it now." He tilted his head up and met your eyes steadily. "I care for you, Tav. I- I need time to process whatever this is between us. But I don't want you to think I don't want you, because I do. And, if that package comes with a certain pompous wizard," he leveled Gale with a humored smirk. "Then I believe I could be alright with that arrangement. As long as he plays by the same rules we do, that is." 
Gale shot you a quizzical look. "You have to be patient and respect all of his boundaries." You explained, and Gale’s face fell into a sorrowful understanding. 
"Of course I would respect your wishes, Astarion. I may be the victim of some over-active hubris, a wildly inconvenient condition, and an intellect much larger than my single head can contain, but I am not a man without respect and understanding." 
"So… by all of that you mean yes." Astarion quipped and Gale chuckled. 
"Yes, Astarion, I mean yes." 
"Wait, hold on a moment." You sat up on your knees between them, looking back and forth at the two men you'd come to love so much, settling on the wizard. "Gale, are you saying you'd be alright with a 3 person relationship? I didn’t know that was something you'd ultimately agree to." 
"No definite answers yet. I'm working on it. Much like Astarion, the thought of being without you is slowly proving too much to bear. And perhaps having you around won't be too bad in the end, Astarion." 
"Oh thank you kindly for those inspiring compliments, Gale." Astarion rolled his eyes, but the growing smile on his lips told the truth of his thoughts on the matter, and you squeezed his hand with a sudden giddiness. 
"Anytime." Gale made a mock bow before sitting back down in the mess of pillows. "Now, are we going to read or shall I kick you both back out into the cold?" His mage hands appeared and he handed them the book. 
"You wouldn't!" You gasped playfully, scooting closer to him.
"Yes, yes, you're right, I wouldn't. Come here, both of you. If you're going to see the drawings you'd better get close." You resumed your place between Gale's legs and opened your arms to Astarion, who crawled in between yours and curled up against your chest like a cat, his head resting on your shoulder, glancing up at the book every now and again to admire the artwork, then planting tender kisses along your jawline before settling back into you. 
After several chapters more and an hour had gone by, Astarion purred softly against your chest while Gale rubbed your arm with one hand and Astarion's back with the other. Your hands were where they often found purchase - amidst soft white curls that were as light as air to your touch - , massaging small circles on the elf's head as he dozed, and you didn’t know how you could possibly be happier. You sighed blissfully, allowing your eyes to finally fall closed. 
"Goodnight Gale, goodnight Astarion." You mumbled, already halfway gone. 
"Goodnight, Tav." Gale whispered in your ear as you faded into a euphoric sleep, curled up between the men you loved; the men who loved you; the men who could possibly one day learn to love each other.
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v4mp-wife · 5 months
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What if you and Levi rescued a baby on a scouting mission?
You're in a village taking out some titans, most people got eaten, some ran away. After you take out all the titans, you and the squad are searching for any survivors and you hear crying coming from one of the houses. You look around to see if you can spot Levi anywhere to call him over but you can't, he must be somewhere else. You go into the house to get the baby but you see someone already beat you to it. And that someone was Levi.
He was holding the tiny human in his hands and rocking it in an attempt to calm it down but it wasn't working. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to figure out how to calm the baby down. You watch in silence before saying anything. The scene is so precious.
You quietly approach him and place your hand on his back to let him know you're there. "Hey." He turns to look at you, he's frustrated that he can't get the baby to stop crying but he also can't be mad at it. He can't Imagine what it could've witnessed, the loud noises of the titans, the screams. "Need help?" You ask him. He looks at you then back at the baby before he grunts. "Yeah", he does need help. You scoop the little thing in your arms and hold it close to your chest, you sway a little from side to side and start humming softly. Once the baby picks up that it's not in danger it starts to calm down and the screaming ceases.
Levi is in awe. He didn't know you were good with kids. He had been struggling with it for so long and the second you took it in your arms it calmed down. He quickly snapped out of it though, he knows neither of you have time to take care of a child. "The kid counts as a survivor, we have to take it back. We can drop it off at one of the shelters." You agree. As much as you want to stay with it a little longer, you still have a job to do.
You were down for the rest of the day after handing over the kid. "How did you get attached to it so quickly." He said it more as a matter of fact way instead of a question. "What?" You reply, you'd been out of it, only thinking about what must have happened to the kids family and its well being. Levi is no fool, hes well aware that you were upset because you had to let go of the kid so quickly. "Come on." He says with a sigh. He doesn't wait for an answer and stands by the door of your shared room. You raise an eyebrow. What is he doing? "Do you want to see the kid or not?" You excitedly get up from the bed and follow him out.
The walk to the shelter is silent, but he can tell by the look on your face that you're happy. The corner of his mouth curls up slightly into a smile. He's glad you're happy.
You hold the little baby in your arms as you play with it on a chair. Levi is leaning on the wall next to you, watching silently. You look so at peace and happy with the kid. At one point you get up and tell him to play with it while you go to the bathroom. He does as he's told, taking the little one in his arms and trying to keep it entertained while you're gone. He doesn't really know what to do so the baby ends up getting bored and falls asleep. The sun was setting and he realized how tired he was. It wouldnt hurt to rest his eyes for a bit. It was just him and the kid anyway. He sat down on the chair and closed his eyes as he waited for you to come back. You return shortly after, adjusting your clothing as you walked not quite realizing what was going on before you. "Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find the..." you trailed off when your eyes landed on him. His head was hanging slightly forward and the baby's head was resting on his chest. He looked so peaceful, it was adorable. "Mm..." He grumbled as he opened his eyes. He looked up at you squinting, taking a second for his vision to adjust. "Ready to go home?" You ask him as you take the baby. "Yeah." Maybe it won't be so bad come visit the kid every once in a while, he though.
That was until he got home and realized it had drooled all over his uniform while it was sleeping.
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he lets you watch
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When you overhear Captain Price watching porn in his office, you decide to turn his fantasies into a reality.
Link to AO3
MDNI/18+
TW: femdom, gagging, one slap
You were working late. Again. It was the most frustrating part of any operation: recon review. All the footage collected from all the soldiers’ body cams had to be reviewed and documented. Any dialogue? Syntactically tagged. Any shots fired? Counted. Any kills? Confirmed. You were glad to help the team, but this stage of discovery was dreadfully boring. 
Even worse, your new-found crush on your captain was driving you insane. To be honest, you’d had your eye on him for a while. There was something about a man in charge, but it was when this last set of footage came through that you really went off the deep end. 
Price had gone with Gaz into a warehouse that was suspected of housing enemy munitions, and the captain had uncovered crates and crates of target-marking spray paint. Huge canisters that attached to the bottoms of planes were all stuck in little rows, lined up and ready to use. 
Unfortunately for the captain, one of the canisters was propped open on the top of its box, and when he lifted the lid, he got covered in red dye. You watched it explode, covering the camera, and then when it reconnected, there he was. Shirtless. Down to his boxer briefs. Wiping red dye off of himself with his clothes. Gaz had brought a full kit, so Price was changing out, hoping to stay covert and camouflaged in the clean gear. Couldn’t well be a glowing red dot while trying to escape enemy territory. 
His chest was broad and full of dense, dark hair, laying flat like soft fur, untrimmed and natural. His beard was streaked red, and half his face was painted, making him look like an ancient Celt, ready for brutal highland battles and bedding willing lassies. He was frustrated by his accident, so all of his movements were sharp and aggressive, his muscles raging and wrestling against his skin. Then, he moved closer to the camera, and the bulge in his underwear became glaringly apparent. 
Hung. Thick. Not so long that it was out of place, but heavy. His cock was imposing, and when he readjusted himself, you could see how dense the muscle really was. You couldn’t help but pause the film, staring, in glorious 4k. You nearly had to wipe the drool from your mouth. 
Price looked so confident here. He was always self-assured, but sometimes, when you spoke with him, there was something that he was holding back. Some shyness perhaps, maybe just a reserved nature, but not here. Not in his livid rage, he was like a wounded beast - angry and virile. Full of righteous energy. It made you imagine making him come undone in other ways, in the ways a woman was meant to make a beast like that come apart at the seams. Ripping the constricting threads and freeing the hulking creature looming within. 
Now, he was sitting in his office, right next to yours, and he’d started watching footage of his own. Or, at least, you thought that he was watching the cams…until you heard a woman’s salacious moan penetrate the thin wall between you. 
Your eyes grew wide, and your breath caught in your chest. You sat in the silence of your office, hearing your heart pound in your ears. You waited to hear it again, just to be sure.
Then, a very quiet, 
“You wanna come?”
You let out the breath you’d been holding. It wooshed from you like a wave crashing against miles and miles of sand. 
Something snapped, some darkness possessed you. You found yourself standing, walking toward the door to his office. It was so late, everyone else had turned in. Just you and him in the west hall of the base awake. He never slept, it seemed. A night owl like you. 
You opened his door without knocking. You’d never done that before, and objectively, it was a truly insane choice. 
In your mind, his hand had lingered when he took his cup of coffee from your hands. In your imagination, he’d cocked a sly smile when you made a joke, just between you and him. You thought you’d seen him checking out your ass in the gym. But, you didn’t have any real proof. 
Popping open his door was the equivalent of pulling the trigger on a bazooka. 
He stood, caught like a fox in a snare, his chair clattering as you came into the room and shut the door behind you quickly. 
“Sergeant, uh,” he recovered, “What happened?”
“Captain.” 
It was a full sentence. And, it was all you had. You were finished. 
The video was still playing. The lurid slapping of skin on skin. Her over-acted moans, his ritual panting. Every few seconds, you counted three, there was another soft,
“You like that, daddy?”
You smiled. He turned red, just like he’d been painted again. 
“Sergeant, I was just…”
He paused the movie. Then, with his body, with the hand roughly rubbing down his face, with the palm tightly covering his mouth, he said a million other words. He was still pink with shame, and then he laughed,
“Yeah, no. I was ‘bout to have a wank. Not sure why I was trying to make you believe otherwise, love. Sorry. It’s too loud?”
You smiled wider. His genuine honesty was so smooth and effortless. A thief caught with his hands in the cookie jar, begging you to punish him for it. 
“No,” you shook your head, “Just wanted to see what you were watching.”
He didn’t register what you said at first, still staring down at his boots. Then, realization washed over him and he looked up at you, eyes shining, brows arched.
“Oh? That so?”
You nodded,
“Let me see what’s got you up so late.”
The captain rubbed a big, calloused hand across his mouth, smoothing his beard, a bit nervous. Then, he pulled a chair around and motioned for you to sit beside him. You sat. He sat. He hit play. 
A woman was straddling a man, both of them hairless and slick like brand new Barbie dolls, spray-tan orange and bleach-blond hair. Americans. She was riding his larger than average dick slowly, deliberately slow, edging him with her pussy. She had a hand around his throat, grasping his jaw tightly, pushing his head back. He was tied to the chair, straining against it, clearly desperate as he writhed beneath her, fighting his restraints. 
“Please, baby. Please, let me come?” He begged. 
“You wanna come, daddy?” She teased. 
“Yeah, can I come?” He begged. 
“Ah-ah! I don’t think so…” She teased. 
Begging. Teasing. Begging. Teasing. A vicious, uncontrollable cycle of cruelty on her part, always pulling the proverbial carrot farther and farther from his snapping jaws. 
You turned to Price who was watching, rapt. He noticed you staring at him. Before he turned to face you, he smiled, sighing,
“Sometimes, when you’re the one barking orders all day, it’d be nice to turn your head off and follow someone else’s for a change.”
“You could follow my orders,” some psychotic part of you spoke. 
He gripped the side of the chair, his once-relaxed hands now making the cheap aluminum frame creak and pop. 
“What’d you say, Sergeant?”
“You heard me, Captain,” you didn’t know if you should call an exorcist or what. Who was this version of yourself and how quickly was she going to get you court martialed?
“You think you can order me around?”
You leaned in, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath, Cuban cigars leaving earthy notes of vanilla and licorice behind. You whispered,
“I know I can.”
He breathed out, his exhale caressing your lips, threatening to kiss you. 
You didn’t move. Not a muscle. You locked eyes with him, 
“Sit on your hands, Captain.”
“Sergeant,” he tried to kiss you, but you pulled away quickly. 
Part of your body screamed at you, wondering why you’d avoid his advances, but your mind knew what he wanted. He needed to lose control. For a man like Price to lose it, it must be taken from him. Forcibly. 
“I said sit... on... them,” you sneered, making yourself larger by standing over him, placing your hands on his thighs to press into his skin. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed, patronizing and light-hearted. It made you want to break him of that habit. Of thinking you were just his sergeant. Just the girl who brought him coffee. Just his gym buddy. 
He still hadn’t complied, chuckling to himself. Out of no where, you straight up fucking slapped him. Hard. Right across the jaw. Grabbing him by the collar,
“Sit on your fucking hands, soldier. That’s an order,” you barked. 
He sat on his hands, staring at you like you had doused yourself in gasoline and caught yourself on fire, in awe.
You pushed his chair back until you had room to move in front of him, and you began peeling off your clothes, one by one. Your shirt, your cargos, your bra, your panties; they all ended up on the floor, leaving you naked and touching yourself lazily, letting your hands wander. 
He moved to lift his hands off his seat, wanting to touch, so you backed away from him. It was a warning: move and this ends. Follow my orders, and I’ll stay. He settled back down. 
“You know, I should punish you for slapping me, Sergeant. That’s insubordination,” he chided, trying to regain control of the situation. 
You took your panties off the ground and found the wet stain he’d caused, showing it to him coyly, like you’d picked up a pretty shell from the beach. It gleamed in the light of his desk lamp. Then, you walked over to him, swaying your hips, and bent down as if to kiss him. 
As he opened his mouth to kiss you back, you pushed your panties into it, past his teeth, clutching at his jaw with the other hand as roughly as you could, knowing you couldn’t hurt him. You shushed his surprised noises, putting a finger to his lip,
“Shh, Captain. That’s enough. You’re not in charge anymore, are you?”
He furrowed his brow as if he would fight back, as if he would remove his hands and teach you a lesson. Then, as he tasted you on his tongue, he realized that you were offering prizes for obedience. He would reap the rewards, if he was willing to play along. His face softened, and he shook his head no. 
“Good boy,” you whispered. 
You kissed his mouth, awkwardly, since it was full of your wet panties, there was little he could do except experience your kisses. He reacted as if he wanted to kiss you back, and as you moved to kiss his jawline, he moaned. 
Price’s moans were rumbling and deep, long and low like a bull elephant’s roar. You wanted to drag that noise out of him again. Your hand found his belt buckle, and you rugged at it, willing it to loosen. As you kissed his neck, you drug down his zipper and freed his cock from the fabric. 
The captain was not soft. If anything, he was harder than he should’ve been for a little teasing and some neck kisses. You decided to use that to his disadvantage,
“My, my, my. Someone’s eager…”
You tugged up and down with length in a long, languid massage, feeling how his foreskin slipped over the head and down the shaft, smooth and supple. He was hairy around the root of his cock, just as you’d hoped, and after seeing the video of him covered in paint, you wished you could strip him down and run your fingernails through his chest hair, delicately scratching his skin and peaked nipples. 
For now, you spit on his cockhead, using it as lube as you rubbed him. He threw his head back in ecstasy. You removed your hand. He snapped back to attention, staring at you a bit desperate for relief. 
You giggled, 
“Is this for me, or for her?”
Pointing over your shoulder, you motioned to the paused video. You took your hand away, feigning hurt feelings.
His body arched toward you, missing your touch, and he shook his head, trying to say something. 
“For her? How disappointing,” you pouted, playing with the head of his cock with one finger, drawing circles around the edge. 
Price was saying something muffled through the fabric of your panties, shaking his head, scooting his chair closer with a quick thrust of his hips, making his cock flag from the jolting movement. 
“You know,” you whispered, drawing him in with your quiet tone, “if this was for me, I’d really be looking forward to feeling it inside of me.”
“Mmm. Mm, mm!” He tried to correct you, his shoulders straining as he pulled them forward, struggling against his self-imposed restraint. 
“Oh?” You caressed his face, rubbing your hand through his soft beard, feeling the stubble on his chin, “It is for me after all?”
“Mm hm,” he nodded, leaning his cheek into your palm, eyes hooded with relief. 
You could tell he was enjoying the game. You were enjoying it, too. You could feel how wet you were, watching him gaze at your shining folds hungry. Impatient. 
“In that case…” you straddled him, planting your knees on either side of his hips, trapping his cock between you both. His body felt warm, and his breathing was labored. 
You rubbed your wetness up and down his shaft, spreading yourself along his length, making wet little sounds as you smeared him until he was slippery. 
Carefully, you moved his head into your eager pussy, your walls pounding for him like a heartbeat. Then, you held his throat with your hand, forcing him to look at you. 
“You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Do you understand, soldier?”
“Mm, hm,” he nodded, rolling in the ecstasy of your tight cunt. 
“Good, boy.”
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tragedybunny · 7 months
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Sunlight and Stars in the Sky part 2 - Astarion x F!Reader
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First part - here
Weary and embarrassed you try to put distance between yourself and Astarion. But you slowly come to realize things are changing between the two of you.
Astarion is gone when you wake up, probably out hunting, and you breathe a sigh of relief. At least you won't be able to embarrass yourself further. Throwing yourself at him, being refused by him of all people, forcing him to let you into his tent to calm down, and that nonsense you'd spouted, gods he must've been so annoyed with you. 
All he wanted from you was a bit of fun, some enjoyable interludes during this journey you'd found yourselves on. You weren't so naive that you thought there was more to it. Yet he'd somehow found a little place in your heart. Which you had stupidly exposed to him last night with that stars in the sky drivel. If he kept his distance from now on, you'd know why. 
Head pounding from the wine, you fumble around for your boots. Slipping them on, you hurry back to your tent, and throw yourself under the covers, glad you didn't run into Astarion. The rest of the night is filled with fitful sleep, the drink making you nauseous and your memories driving you almost to tears. When the sun at last rises, the camp awakens muted and somber. Unable to face him, you wait until the scent of breakfast fills the air to finally leave your tent. 
Naturally he's somehow right there. "Good morning Darling," even he seems muted after everything, probably worried you'll be all over him again, "feeling better?"
"A little, sorry for the trouble last night," you murmur hastily, trying not to look at him before rushing off, unable to make yourself listen to his conciliatory response. 
Breakfast and breaking camp take far longer than they should and your solemn crew takes to the road that leads beyond the monastery to the shadow cursed lands much later than they should. As seems to be your fate though, not even a simple road is easy, and a group of undead bar the way. Body and mind aching, you fumble through the fight, spells missing their target, and reactions slowed. You don’t see the monster that’s crept up on you until it’s nearly too late to dodge its flailing attack. Suddenly the earth lurches and you’re facing the dirt. Panic constricts your chest, death is so close, even all you managed to overcome wasn't enough. Rolling, you try to get your feet under you, and find your assailant hovering over you. Your lungs inhale what is likely your final breath and you tense just a crossbow bolt sprouts from its forehead. It stumbles back and Karlach’s axe removes its head from its body. 
Most of the gory sight is blocked from your view as Astarion appears over you, crossbow back over his shoulder, pale hand outstretched and brow furrowed. “Are you alright my Dear?”
You wince and take his hand, twice as humiliated as before. Reaching a sitting position, you stop, your body unwilling to go further. Everything from the Nautiloid, to the Creche, to making a fool of yourself, bears down on you, and it’s all too much. One win at the Grove amongst a tide of wounding losses. Hands rub at your eyes to push away the tears. “Sweetheart,” Astarion is suddenly crouching next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, pulling away from that touch that you want to be real affection so badly. 
“You look exhausted.” Before you can protest, he’s turning to the rest of the group. “We should stop for the night.”
“Tsk'va, we’ve barely made progress,” Lae’zel snaps, any good humor she's developed gone for the moment, “we still have worms in our head, did you forget that whilst basking in the sun.” 
His eyes narrow for a moment, and he looks like he’ll shout back, but he contains it. “We’ve all had a hard time, and we’re in rough shape. Let’s get some rest and start fresh in the morning.” 
They don’t need to be told he’s talking about you, collapsed in the dirt, and you can feel their eyes turn on you. “That sounds eminently reasonable," Gale chimes in and the rest assent.
"Let's go find a nice spot," Karlach says brightly, taking Wyll by the hand and leaving the main road. 
The others follow in their wake until just the two of you are left. Reluctantly, you start to get your feet under you, feeling as weary as he says you were, and silently start off towards them. The crunch of his boots tell you Astarion is just behind you, a small mercy as he can't see the state you're in. Your chest aches, you can't seem to banish the tears that keep threatening, and nothing feels like it has a point anymore. When you catch up with the others, they're already setting camp for the night, with Gale prepping dinner with as much cheer as he can muster and the others barely speaking at all. The whole of it seems like too much and you collapse on a log near the fire, Astarion joining you seconds later. 
Shifting closer, he looks like he's about to speak when the sounds of an argument draws your attention and he just sighs instead. "The Underdark is backtracking, a waste of time and dangerous." Lae’zel is shouting at Shadowheart. 
"Well it might deter the interference of your people," she returns.
"That is a point, this road is already dangerous," Halsin chimes in. 
"What do you think," Wyll has wandered over from setting up his tent and turned to you. For the second time today, your whole group is looking to you, only this time they're expecting that leadership you've shown them this whole journey. 
"I…" you just can't find it in you.
"Gods," Astarion growls, "can you all not make one simple decision without her? She's tired and you're putting this on her. It's bad enough you expect her help solving all your petty problems."
"But it's fine if it's your petty problems, right Astarion," Gale accuses, his face dark. You know his problem is far from petty. 
"Say that again," Astarion hisses and does something you've never seen him do to one of your companions, he snarls and bares his fangs. 
"Astarion," you scold, stirred from your stupor finally and he gives you a wounded look. "Let's just get some dinner in everyone. Then we can discuss the Underdark." They need you, it would hardly do to give up now. 
"Right, you heard the lady, give her some space until dinner is done," Karlach waves them off and gives you a wink. 
Part of you expects Astarion to be angry with you for the reproach but instead he gently takes your hands in his. "How about I get the tent set up, you can rest before dinner. Or you could stay there the whole night, you don't owe them an answer." 
The tent, your mind reels. It's his tent and he's never been fond of anyone infringing on his space. Is he still feeling sorry for you? You cringe, and pull your hands from his. "I can stay in my own tent."
"Oh," he seems to shrink in on himself. "I had been wondering since you were gone when I got back last night. Did I do something wrong? I admit I'm new to having someone close like that.” His voice is quiet and unsure, and nothing like what you’re used to. “Or maybe it's my temperature, I know I'm not exactly very warm," he offers and laughs somewhat awkwardly.
"I just don't want to…" For the first time today, you really look at him, and you don't see the same Astarion you've been traveling with. His eyes are wide and soft, his expression full of hope and longing and not scorn for the world around him. You find his hands where you left them, as though waiting for yours. Something has changed, something that makes your heart flutter and chases away the darkness of your thoughts. You were going to say pretend; pretend he wanted you there, pretend you didn't make an idiot out of yourself; but that doesn't feel right anymore. "Impose," you slide your hands back into his and small smile ghosts over his features. 
"Love, I told you last night, you're not imposing. Well you were very drunk," a small kiss on your cheek makes you flush, “perhaps you don’t remember.” 
“Some rest is probably a good idea,” you admit, giving in to the ethereal moment that seems to be burgeoning between the two of you. 
He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “I told you so,” his usual smirk is back in place but it’s softer than before. 
While he’s gone you try to temper yourself, this could be temporary, and you should focus on your very grim situation, your losses and setbacks are still real. But it all vanishes the moment he’s leading you back to the tent and settling you into a pile of pillows and blankets, some of them from your own supplies. Your things, mingled with his, the two of you, joined together. With your approval very visible from the smile you can't hide, he joins you, pulling you into his arms so your head rests against his chest. From around the fire you hear voices, friendly banter, spirits are lifting, hope is prevailing. You’re glad but still so tired, and it’s so nice here with Astarion, a little peace for just the two of you. “Thank you, I really needed this,” you murmur sleepily. 
“Think nothing of it, my Sunlight,” he kisses the top of your head. 
It brings back the other night, but there’s no awkwardness for you now, you spoke true, no matter what happens from now on, he’ll always be the light of all your nights, the beauty out of darkness. “My Starry Sky.” 
He gives a small hum of approval, “I am growing fond of that nickname,” and he holds you tighter. There’s a note of sadness you think in his voice, but you’re almost asleep, maybe you imagined it. 
621 notes · View notes
zyonsay · 4 months
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lil bro~~ its my birthday~~
wanna gift me with some hmm aah oscar smut? hahshwhshe
His Cherry lips OP81
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: Tonight you need it a bit rougher
Warnings: Oscar in the wild, Smut, choking, Misuse of Bananas (im kidding)
Now playing: 'Off to the races' by Lana del Rey
AN: LIL BRO HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ofc you'll get Oscah smut >:D
I hope you have an amazing day and i adore you pookie <3
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Soft sobs echoed from the bedroom through the door and into the empty hallway, most lights were off, and your belongings just carelessly tossed aside.
Usually your work was nice, but from time to time a rude client can get to you. The rustling of keys caught your attention, it must be Oscar coming home from the press conference he had told you about. Quickly wiping your eyes, you sprung up from the bed and rushed over to greet your boyfriend. Oscar offered you a sweet smile before pressing a quick peck to your lips. He couldn’t help but notice your red eyes and your sniffling nose. Immediately a worried expression painted his features. “What’s wrong baby?”, he now snuck his arms around you. Oscar is a gentle person, but you knew that he wouldn’t let you go without confiding in him. This type of trust was very important to him, and you were glad.
He guided you back into the bedroom while you told him about your client and what they had said to you. He slipped off his jeans, leaving him in his orange McLaren hoodie and his grey briefs. Sitting on the bed with you, he gently rubbed your back. “It’s not ok for them to talk to you like that. Talk to your boss about it. There has to be something to protect you from those nasty people.” His gentle touches and soft words made you smile slightly. You really had the perfect boyfriend. Oscar’s hand slid around your neck, pulling you into a sweet kiss. The warmth radiating from his body was comforting. Admittedly, you missed him throughout the day. Your hand slid into his soft hair, lightly tugging on them. While he gasped into the kiss, you used that opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth. He hummed at your antics, very obviously enjoying the moment. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you like you were the most precious being in the world. In his you were.
The dim light made your boyfriend look inviting and awfully… irresistible. With a hand to his chest, you pushed him onto his back and straddled him. His sweet smile had turned into a grin. “You look good on top of me”, his tone was genuine, almost innocent. With a dangerous smile you ground against Oscar, earning a groan from him. He placed his hands on your waist and held you in place as he craved more friction. “Take these off.”, he hooked a finger into the inside of your shorts and lightly tugged on them. Quickly climbing off of him, you threw the shorts on the floor, you’ll collect them after this is done. You were about get on top of Oscar again, as he grabbed your chin and embraced you in a warm kiss. There was nothing you could do when he pushed you down onto the mattress. He tugged your underpants off of you, tossing them aside. With a teasing look in his eyes he held two fingers towards your mouth, gesturing for you to suck on them. You generously covered his pale fingers with your saliva as you swirled your tongue around them. He was quick to pull them away again, you whined at the loss. But that was quickly replaced by a soft gasp as Oscar prodded at your hole with the same two fingers. He slowly and carefully pushed them in, centimeter by centimeter until his whole digits were dipped inside you. A soft hum rang through the air as he began gently pushing in and out of you. With one hand you grasped his arm and with the other you held onto the sheets, your knuckles white and your head tipped back.
Every sorrow was gone by now, only the aching for pleasure pumped through your body. Oscar deemed you stretched out enough and began fumbling with his boxers. The fabric, like many before, was tossed onto the ground. Oscar pressed sweet kisses to your chest and stomach while stroking his hard length. “Love you”, he whispered while aligning his cock with your entrance. With a smooth motion he pushed into you. He was gentle and so, so sweet.
“Please Oscar, be rough.”, your voice was quiet, almost a whisper as you begged him. He could never decline any of your wishes, he’d do anything for that sweet voice of yours. His pace rapidly increased and now he was practically slamming into you. You felt so alive, so real.
The city outside was asleep, there were barely any cars on the roads and the only light around were the dim streetlamps and the moon. One peek through your bedroom window showed a not so peaceful scene; loud moaning and the sound of Oscars hips snapping against yours filled the room. It felt like the atmosphere was on fire and he was the only bit of fresh air nearby. A few strands of his beautiful hair stuck to his forehead and his Hickory eyes were swallowed by his pupils. Oscar’s hold on your hips will for sure leave bruises. You darkly chuckled at him, while rutting against his motion. “Is that the best you can do?”, this made him quirk one eyebrow. Though he didn’t say anything, he just slid his hand up your chest and around your throat. Oh god.
He smiled sickly sweet before pressing hard and closing off most of your air supply. You gasped for air, while the pleasure inside you began boiling and tightening. The corners of his cherry lips tugged up into a sweet, but dangerous smile. The palms of your hand began feeling hot and you arched your back as the pleasure grew and grew. The bedroom’s ceiling blurred into a big mess as you craved oxygen in your lungs and then – snap!
White, creamy cum shot out of your length while Oscar released his hold on you and grabbed your hips again. He groaned as thick ropes of cum spurted out of his cock, right inside of you.
With an exhausted huff, he laid down on top of you, his head on your chest.
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leonsbunny · 26 days
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Be My Baby !! ♡
( re2r!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || milkshake date gone wrong ?! maybe a little? ooc leon? he's overwhelmed from work and wants to make this date perfect for you ♡ leon cries a bit - only because he's overwhelmed and feels bad ♡ )
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Leon smiles shyly down at you as you cling to his arm. He awkwardly holds onto your waist, gently pressing his hand against the dip of your curves as if you'd break under his touch. He doesn't know what to say, but he smiles anyway.
On his other hand, was a tray. Two cups of milkshakes were its contents, the cups swaying in place as you both walked towards his cop car. It wasn't the most ideal date for Leon. He only wanted the beat for you. A milkshake date, like how they did it in the movies.
Too bad for Leon, the diner he wanted to take you was full, and he just had to take over for the senior officers today since they were out with their wives this day, too. Poor rookie.
“I hope you aren't mad or anything,” He says, somewhat embarrassed with yours and his current situation. This isn't how he planned it at all. “Why would I be mad?” You chuckle softly, not getting why he sounded so embarrassed. “It's just…” He trails off, pouting subconsciously. “I didn't plan it out like this. We were supposed to take my car. And…and go to that diner you always wanted to go to,” His pout turns into a more noticeable frown as he speaks his mind. Usually, Leon was the type to keep to himself. He didn't want you to worry for him. If anything, he'd rather have him worrying for you instead of the other way around.
Leon sounded like he was going to cry. You could tell by the way his voice wavered, the way it went up in pitch slightly. He was going to cry. He didn't want to cry, but he was too overwhelmed with it all. None of this was going his way. It was supposed to be perfect for you.
“Hey, hey…it's okay.” You reassure him, you stop in your tracks, which makes him stop as well. “It doesn't have to be perfect, Leon.” You add, your hand snakes down his arm and into his.
“It's the thought that counts, right? Isn't that what you always say?” You tease affectionately, hoping it'd make him feel less bad about things out of his control. He nods his head, sniffling off his tears. He was a bit glad he wasn't actually crying right now. He didn't want you to worry and less for him.
He lets go of your hand, using his sleeve to awkwardly wipe away any wetness off his face. “R-right.” He repeats, sighing softly. “I only want the best for you. This was supposed to be-” Before he can repeat his tangent again, you cut him off with a kiss. A kiss on the lips, your hands cup the warm apples of his cheeks. You can feel him heat up immediately after you pull away from him. The pads of your palms soak in the heat from his face.
“Just go with the flow, okay? You can't control everything, Leon.” You say, holding his hand again as you pull your palms away from his face. He nodded again, blinking as he processed what you just did. You've been dating for a while now, but he still got flustered from the way you kissed him. He didn't mind when you kissed him like this, though. Sometimes his train of thought had to be cut off, for his own sake. Kissing him was probably the best way to do it.
You hold his hand, instinctively he holds yours back. Gently squeezing it to keep himself grounded. He was glad he wasn't wearing his patrol gloves, it would've been harder to keep your hand in his.
“See? I told you.” You say, after a couple minutes of waking in complete silence. You let Leon calm himself down, you being there for him was all he needed.
Playfully, you swing both of your arms together, your hand still in his as you walk. This makes Leon crack a small smile.
Things didn't go as planned, but as long as he had you, it'd always be okay. You promised.
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xxshujiswhorexx · 25 days
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Baby Bunny~
(Chapter 6)
Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader
After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…
Vox was gone when you woke up.
Eyes still droopy with sleep, a big yawn forced itself from your throat as you sat up, the sunlight streaming in through the shutters slowing adjusting your eyes to the early morning sun.
The bed was empty, and in Vox’s place sat a neatly folded letter. You clambered over, recognising Vox’s handwriting and your name on the letter.
My darling bunny,
Im afraid i won’t be there to take care of you when you wake up, but i’ve been called on business to the Greed Ring.
Supposedly, Mammon has a business deal for me; one that will serve to increase the VoxTek empire exponentially, my dear.
Whilst I’m gone, i won’t expect you to be at work, since there won’t be anything for you to do without me there. So please, take some days to yourself, visit Angel Dust, whatever you wanna do.
There should be coffee in the pantry, and should you need groceries please take Velvette with you; it’s too near to that time again, and i really don’t want any incidents dollface.
If you need anything else, please go to Velvette, and the Val as a last resort. I’m still not sure how much i trust him around you, especially without me around.
I should be back in a few days, a week at most.
Love you baby,
Vox
With a smile and a giggle, you crumpled up the letter, deciding to take his advice and visit Angel as the day allowed it.
Pulling yourself out of bed, you dragged a brush through your hair, flinching as it scraped your ears, surprised at their unusual sensitivity. Shrugging it off, you through on some clothes, a sweater, skirt, and matching leg warmers, before heading out the door.
Skipping out the door, you stretched the remaining drowsiness out of your sore limbs, enjoying the glow of sun on your skin. Trying to remember to route, you decided to pick up a coffee on the way, unable to find any in the pantry.
Humming a tune, your nose twitched at the fragrant scent of coffee, ears perking up in recognition. Eagerly approaching the counter, you pulled out your fluffy wallet.
“Two caramel lattes, please!” You grinned lightly leaning back and forth on your heels as you waited patiently for your coffee. After all, Angie was never a morning person, so he’d hopefully appreciate being woken with his favourite coffee.
“Two caramel lattes for Y/N?”
Not noticing the stares and smirks you got, you grabbed your coffees and hurried out the door, eager to see your best friend after way too long.
The streets of hell felt more chaotic than usual. Had something happened? Was something going on?
Shaking off your anxieties, you continued the way towards the hotel, despite feeling as though eyes were constantly on you. The familiar sight of the hotel’s large doors were a welcome refuge, as you knocked gently, you timidity returning at the remembrance of many powerful people residing here.
“Omigodomigod is it a new guest! Vaggie Vaggie come here! Quick!” The door swung open with fervour too great for so early in the morning, and you took a step back out if surprise.
“Y/N? Ohh, are you here to see Angel? It’s great to see you again! Do you want to be redeemed?” Grabbed by the hand, Charlie hastily pulled you inside, bombarding you with questions.
“H-hi Charlie! No, im just here to see Angie, my boss gave me a few days off so i came to visit!”
“Oh, that is just wonderful! Im so glad Angel has such nice friends!” Charlie gushed at your innocent demeanour, pulling you towards the lounge where Angel was sitting on a couch, scrolling on his phone.
“Charlie, my love, calm down. Its 9 in the morning.” Vaggie put a comforting shoulder on Charlie’s shoulder, intending to relax her from her excitment.
“Charlie? What’s goin’ on?” Angel called out not looking up from his phone, seemingly uninterested in the commotion.
“Angie! I missed you! Here i brought you a latte.”
“Huh? Cutie! I missed ya too you silly rabbit! Ooh, is it caramel?”
“Yup, your favourite!”
“Satan, you know me so well!”
You giggled as Angel eagerly chugged his coffee, before pulling you into a tight embrace. You sighed into his touch, ears twitching pleasedly, as he scratched your head.
“Cutie, what are ya doin’ here? Dontcha know how dangerous it is outside right now? Didntcha watch the news?”
Your eyes widened and you glanced up at him. “Why? Is something goin’ on? Mr Vox doesn’t let me watch the news, he says he’ll tell me everything i need to know…”
Angel let out a string of curses and grumbled. “Course that fucking manipulative asshole controls all the information that gets to ya. The extermination, babes. Its comin’ in 6 months now, not a year. Everyone’s freaking out.”
You gasped, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth in shock. “W-what? But that’s awful!”
“Yeah, but we got a more immediate problem on our hands. You feelin’ okay, cutie?” Angel picked you up with a set of arms and turned you around to inspect you, as if looking for something.
“W-what do you mean, Angie?”
With a sigh, he grabbed your cotton tail, causing you to whimper loudly, tears forming in your eyes.
“You’re really fucking sensitive, cutie. Your heat’s about to start, i can smell it on you.” Angel sniffs the air for dramatic effect, causing you to giggle.
“But i should still have at least a week left?”
Angel put you down with a sigh, and glanced out the nearest window. “Cutie, there’s literally like, 15 sinners out there waiting for you to come out. What, didja collect ‘em like fucking pokemon?” The both of you start laughing, as you collapse into Angel’s chest fluff, legs weak from giggling.
Angel lowered a hand down whilst your giggles were muffled in his chest, touching your panties to discover the sopping wetness between your legs as you shivered at his gentle touch. You moaned softly, gripping his biceps as he inspected your slick.
“Yup. Babes, its like the heavens have literally opened up between your legs.” He chuckled at his own phrasing, scooping you up in his long arms. “We gotta get you home to Vox before it fully sets in”
“M-mr Vox isn’t here, Angie. H-he’s in the Greed Ring on business.”
Angel cursed loudly, drawing the attention of the other in the hotel.
“Angel? What’s wrong?” Charlie inquired curiously.
“Little bunny here’s about to start her heat, but daddy Vox ain’t here to help her through it. So I’m gonna hafta help her, cause there ain’t no fuckin way i’m handin her over to Val”
“S-sorry Angie, i guess you’re stuck with me until Mr Vox is back..” you trail off, your arousal growing steadily as your sight becomes hazy.
“Sorry Charlie, can she stay with me a while? I can’t leave her like this.”
“U-uh of course Angel!” Charlie blushes at the implication, but eager to help. “Y-you can be excused from activities until she can get back to Vox!”
Angel scooped you up, preparing to take you to his room when he was stopped by the sound of Husk’s gruff voice.
“Whatcha say, Whiskers? I can’t fuckin hear ya from here!”
Husk groaned, annoyed at having to repeat himself. “I said, Alastor ain’t gonna be fuckin happy about this.”
A figure emerged from the shadows, his grin tighter and more strained than usual.
“i thought i smelt rabbit! Has our dear bunny found herself in trouble, hm?” His teasing tone was lost on the crowd, you soft pants and whimpers permeating the otherwise silent room.
“I see, well im afraid i cannot allow this, my dear. You see, you associate with the television, and i cannot allow that sort of business in this hotel, understand?” The static in his voice grows thick, his irritation audible, but you struggle to understand anything, everythung buried in a hazy fog of lust and need.
“C’mon, Al, cut her some slack. The poor bunny’s in heat and needs help.”
“Hm, no can do, my effeminate fellow! Off she goes!” His grin is so stretched it bares his gums, as his jaw clenches, seemingly holding back from something.
“Satan, you are such a fuckin ass! Promise me you’ll at least get her to Val safely, you fucker! I ain’t strong enough to get both of us through that carnage while her stench literally screams sex. ”
“Hm, i suppose that i can do.” Alastor takes you from Angel’s arms, carrying you bridal style as the both of you returned to the shadows.
“Cutie! Don’t hesitate to call! I’ll come help if ya need me babes!”
You vaguely recognise Angel’s voice through the fog, distracted by the intoxicating scent enveloping you. Grabbing on to Alastor’s chest, you bury your head in his neck, sniffing him deeply, inhaling his musky scent, the pheromones making your head spin as you whine in pleasure.
You can make out Alastor muttering curses under his breath, his smile straining as his grip on you tightened.
“My darling, you smell truly delectable, i can barely contain myself. I wonder how you would taste…”
You whine and grab at him, craving contact, attention, to be touched. The ache between your legs was growing painful, your slick coating your thigh and soaking through your panties.
“A-Al, p-please h-help me~” you plead with him, begging to be touched, to be bred. His grip continues to tighten, bordering painful, until his resolves finally snapped.
Pinning you against the nearest wall, his sharp and yellowed teeth attacked you neck, biting harshly and licking the wounds, eager to draw blood, to taste you. Lapping up the blood beading from his teeth marks, Alastor groaned at the taste, the intoxicating taste of bunny blood. Rabbit meat was rare in hell, and hard to come by, but had always been a personal favourite of the cannibal.
“Fuck, my darling, you truly are delicious. I could just eat you up right now.” He chuckled darkly at your pained whimpers and terrified whines, continuing to suck bruises onto your flesh, leaving love bites and hickies, marking his territory before handing you over to Valentino as promised.
“If only you scent wasn’t plagued by the stench of that television, perhaps i would keep you all to myself this time. Oh well, perhaps next time my darling. Until we meet again.”
And with that, Alastor disappeared, leaving you collapsed on the floor in front of Valentino’s appartment.
With gentle whine and moan, you dragged yourself on shaky legs to the door, knocking and scratching on it until you received an answer.
“Who the fuck is there, hm? I’m fuckin’ off the clock, don’t bother me putas!” Val yanked the door open looking left and right before dropping his eyes to you, his grin widening.
“Awh, my poor little coñejita~ what’s happened, bebé?” Val cooed at you, blowing thick red smoke in your face as you tried to formulate a response through the haze and confusion.
“M-mr Val, i-i need help. M-mr Vox i-is gone, a-and my h-heat s-started. P-please h-help me, s-sir…” you started to tear up out of discomfort, the intense desire proving too much for you to handle as you made grabby hands to Val, who just cooed and scooped you up, closing the door behind you both.
Val chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing.“Don’t worry your pretty little head, bebé. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of, hm~”
A/N: So excited to write these next few chapters lol. It’s getting fun and horny
Tags: @enby-rising @whocaresimnothere @christineblood @sirenetheblogger @vash-yuu
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mournings-stars · 3 months
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Could I request an Alastor x reader? mostly smut, however i love fluff with aftercare and such
I was thinking the premise being of a reader who was and old friend from cannibal town coming to the hotel maybe? (cis fem reader)
hellohello! i personally don’t write smut for alastor but here’s a little fluff for you/how im comfortable writing for alastor!! its a bit of an ambiguous relationship but i hope thats fine :)
alastor x cannibal town fem reader (i may make this into a multi-part fic)
There was more than one reason Alastor brought Charlie to Cannibal Town — yes, it’s important she met Rosie, but he also had business to attend to while she did. He excused himself, heading down the street, several shops down, and into a narrow alleyway where he opened a hidden door to a small shop.
It was two small rooms and a back kitchenette. The walls of the first room were lined with bookshelves that made a narrow aisle to the back of the store. There, was an open seating area with sofas, armchairs, and a roaring fireplace across from the small register in the corner. It certainly wasn’t supposed to feel like a store where you had to buy something, but one where you could if you really wanted to.
“Welcome in!” A very sweet voice came from the back of the shop, a hint of an old, long-lost accent that made Alastor’s smile widen. “I’ll be right with you!”
“Take your time,” he hummed, and immediately heard shuffling from the other room before you stumbled into the front. “Hello, my dear!”
“Alastor!?” You gasped, lifting the hem of your skirt to rush over to him and hug him. He stiffened, a high pitched radio frequency sounding from his microphone and making you step back. “Sorry—“ You straightened out his suit jacket with a smile tugging at your lips as he watched you. When your fussing became too much, he placed a very calm hand over yours and gave you a gentle smile. You laughed under your breath and stepped back. “Sorry—“
“You said that already, my dear — and there’s no need to!” You nodded as he squeezed your hand before letting it go. “No need at all!”
“Right, right… How are you? Where have you been? I’ve… missed you.” Your excited tone dampened as you finished, clearing your throat and offering a smaller smile when it faltered. “But I’m glad to see you’re alright.”
“You were always too kind to me!” He said cheerily, walking to the second room to have a seat on the couch.
“Can I get you anything, Al?”
“Just a bit of precious time,” he said a little too sweetly, waiting for you to sit across from him. But you made yourself busy, pouring hot water over tea and preparing a plate of sweets for the two of you to share. “Tell me how you’ve been!” He said impatiently as he watched you go anywhere but toward him.
“Ah… where to start?” You hummed, leaning against the countertop. “I thought you might’ve…” You waved your hand dismissively, but as he’d gone missing just after an extermination, he understood and hummed along. “And since you never told me anything—“
“It was all so sudden, I would’ve left you a note—“
“A note?” You scoffed, but moved on when he nodded, going to get teacups for the two of you. “Anyway, I met someone.”
“Did you?” He sounded unimpressed, watching you get sugar and spoons; anything to avoid sitting down. “So quickly?”
“It took a few years.” He hummed along. “And it didn’t last—“ He laughed snidely. “—It felt very… wrong—”
“I'm sure,” he was almost too quick to say.
“And… They were exterminated, anyway.”
He looked very happy to hear that fact, but said nothing until he got his expression under control. “Shame,” he said, tone crass. “I would have loved to have met them.”
“I’m sure,” you repeated, throwing him a pointed look that he beamed at. “The years have become a bit blurry,” you continued.
“Have they?”
“I spend most of my time here, talking with Rosie. Missing you.“
“Ah, yes… You said that.” His smile dampened. “Surely you moved on?” But he was hopeful you didn’t, and he knew his hopes were answered when you stayed quiet and poured your tea. You remembered how much sugar he liked, and how much cream, not even bothering to ask before you put the cups on the plate and walked to the couches. “I always thought of you,” he admitted, taking the cup you offered, “but I could never go to you… I watched from afar.” He cleared his throat, sipping his tea and forcing his smile to stay put. “And I felt…” His eyes drifted to nothing as he thought back on those seven years. “Excruciatingly bored.”
You laughed. “Does that mean you missed me too?”
He narrowed his eyes, taking the plate from you before you could get anything else. “Why don’t you have a seat next to me?” He set the plate on the end table. “I didn’t come here to be served; I came to, finally, get the chance to see you again.” And then he offered his hand, and the small gesture of vulnerability made you understand that yes;
He missed you very much.
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