Tumgik
#i got a little carried away..
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Toxic!Rafe and toxic!reader, where they’re fighting because he wants to go out to a strip bar with Topper and Kelce which reader hates (she thinks they encourage his bad behavior) after she told him no. so when reader goes on insta to look at Rafes story and sees he lied and went anyways after seeing a pic of him in the sniffers row at the bar, she gets all crazy and starts responding to the story with full paragraphs 😭 and so when he starts replying she blocks him mid argument, and he goes home and yells at her until they get all lovey dovey again 🥰 (sorry this is long)
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warnings: toxic relationship (?), slight humor, cussing, lying, crying, shouting, arguing, mentions of sex, a little plot twist at the end
“..i don’t know about that, man. y/n has a bitch fit everytime i go somewhere without her, i highly doubt she’d be okay with me going there of all places.” you stood outside your bedroom door, rolling your eyes at the sound of topper’s voice. “who cares what she says? she’s not your fuckin’ mommy, bro.” you suppressed a laugh, knowing rafe has called you ‘mommy’ a numerous amount of times. your boyfriend sighed, staying silent for a moment. “look, i’ll ask her alright? if she says no then i ain’t going.” you smiled to yourself, walking into the room with a fresh stack of t-shirts in your hands.
“here she is now, i’ll call you back.” you placed the folded laundry on top of the dresser. “tell the spawn of satan herself we say hello!” kelce shouted in the background. “aww is that dumb and dumber on the phone? hey, guys!” rafe shook his head, a laugh tumbling out of his throat. he hung up the call, getting up to wrap his arms around your waist. you leaned into him, breathing in his cologne as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “listen, uh, topper and kelce are inviting me out tonight, ‘wanted to know if i can join them..” you arched a brow, turning around in his hold.
“and where do y’all plan on going?” rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “well.. you know how the guys are, they always wanna go to some new place..” he trailed off, clearly stalling as much as he could. “just say it, rafe.” he swallowed nervously. “a strip club.” suddenly his hands felt tense on your skin, and he couldn’t hold your stare. “a strip club?” you repeated, pulling away from him. “that’s cute, but no.” rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, immediately taking out his phone.
[4:30 PM] to: topper, kelce: i’m in, pick me up at nine.
“what are you doing?” you eyed him as he brought the phone up to his ear, walking around to the other side of the bed. “m’telling them i can’t go, because you’re gonna be all pissed off if i do.” you scoffed, eyeing him carefully. rafe cursed under his breath, praying to god you couldn’t tell he wasn’t actually calling anyone. “hey, bro. i can’t go, it’s a hard no.” he scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, i know. maybe another time- wait, where?” rafe stopped pacing, nodding along to his own imagination. “pizza and beer? that sounds good. nine o’clock? alright i’ll see y’all then.” he shrugged as he pretended to hang up.
“alright, no strip club, but charlie’s pizza instead, is that alright?” you nodded. “that’s fine, but you better text me.” he jumped up, pulling you into a hug that ended with you two falling in bed. “i mean it rafe, i want pizza pictures and everything!” he showered you with kisses, taking his time when he got to your lips. you two stayed like that for a few minutes, making out softly before you pulled away. “you should start getting ready before i get too horny, ‘cause then i really won’t let you go anywhere.” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he got up. “good call.” he laughed, getting an outfit ready for tonight.
nine o’clock rolled around faster than you wanted it to, and sure enough topper and kelce were outside honking like maniacs once they pulled up. “i love you, baby, i’m gonna text you in a bit.” you smiled, watching him holler all the way down to where topper and kelce practically tackled him. “we promise to have him home no later than one, mommy dearest!” you gave kelce the middle finger, shutting the door once rafe blew you a kiss. now that you had the house to yourself you figured you’d shower and unwind, maybe finish the book you had been reading. all was well until you glanced at the time on your phone. 10:45 PM, and still no word from rafe.
you opened instagram, spotting the green circle around your boyfriend’s profile picture, indicating he had posted on his close friends. you clicked on it, your heart dropping at the video of rafe throwing money at a stripper’s ass. “front row seats, baby!” he cheered. just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next story was a photo of a blonde sitting in rafe’s lap, topless and smiling from ear to ear. “this motherfucker..” you closed the app, deciding you saw enough before opening you and rafe’s text thread on imessage.
[10:55 PM] - i don’t know what’s funnier; the fact that you had a whole conversation with yourself in front of me to make it sound like you were just getting pizza and beer with your dickhead friends, or forgetting to take me off your close friends list when you want to post yourself at some sleazy ass strip club. you’re a fucking joke.
rafe had never sobered up so fast in his life, all the blood draining from his face when he read your message. “fuck!” he cursed at himself, his head resting in his hands.
[11:10 PM] my <333: baby i promise i’ll explain everything, i’m telling the guys to take me home right now.
[11:15 PM] - there’s nothing you could say that’ll ‘explain’ what the fuck you did. you sat there in my face and kissed me and reassured me when you were getting your way all along. can you even comprehend how fucked up that is? you made me look stupid in front of your friends who already don’t like me. AND THE TOPLESS PICTURE???? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE???? if i posted a picture with my tits all in jj’s face, how would you feel? we both know he’s one phone call away if i really wanted him.
rafe’s blood was boiling after he read your message, knowing that you could leave him and have someone as desperate and lovesick as jj replace him in a heartbeat. “bro don’t sweat it, man. she’ll get over it.” topper slurred, entering figure eight again. “shut the fuck up, you don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.” rafe shot back, clenching his fists when the message he tried to send turned green. topper didn’t respond, the rest of the ride home being dead silent.
rafe didn’t even say bye to kelce or topper when they arrived at tanneyhill, instead he rushed inside, eyes immediately falling to you resting on the couch. you were wearing your pink, fluffy robe, rollers adorning your hair while you were typing something on your ipad. “babe-” rafe shut the door, falling to his knees before you. “don’t get near me. you probably smell disgusting.” rafe’s jaw ticked, his patience already running low. “i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have lied to you, baby. i promise i’ll never do that again.” you finally looked at him, his bangs falling in his face.
“i know,” you sighed, “you don’t have to worry about me doing anything either.” you got up, attempting to walk past him before he grabbed your leg. “what are you talking about?” you knew rafe well enough to know when he was getting angry, and the way he was looking at you right now only confirmed your suspicions. “you don’t get to do what you did and think it’s all going to be fine and dandy with an apology, rafe. i’m leaving for my parents tomorrow, and don’t ask me when i’m coming back because i don’t know. i don’t think i can live with a liar.” you shoved him away, only making him grab you again, this time throwing you down on the couch.
“you don’t think you could live with a liar?” he narrowed his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “has it ever occurred to you that i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just not freak the fuck out everytime i want to go out and have fun?” you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “you’re one to talk!” you screamed in his face, making him stand up. you followed suit, refusing to let him make you feel powerless. “you wanna act like you’re trapped here? fine! play the victim, but don’t forget everything you do to keep me from going out too.” you were pacing back and forth now, running your fingers through your hair.
“you literally slashed my friend’s tires to keep me from going to her birthday party, and all for what? because you found out other guys were going to be there?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i paid for the damages, y/n…” he groaned. “so?! it’s the principal! you do the most when it comes to me wanting to go somewhere, but me telling you not to go to a literal strip club is where you draw the line?? fuck you!” you started making your way upstairs, rafe right on your tail as you did so.
“fuck me?! i’m the one who takes care of you! there’s nothing in this world that you want and don’t have! i take you on regular vacations, i take you out damn near everyday, i keep you in all the newest shit, i pay for you and all your friend’s beauty appointments so that y’all could have a girl’s day twice a month, you just have no fucking clue!” he shouted, making you stop in your tracks. you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, breaking his heart in two.
“and what about everything i do for you?” you let out a shaky breath. “i’m what makes this house a home. i wear the clothes you want me to wear, i eat the food you want me to eat, i talk the way you want me to talk. i’m here when all else fails. i’m the one who holds you and comforts you when things get hard for you. i’m the one who makes sure you never feel alone, ‘makes sure you don’t go through anything alone. i do everything you say. on the days you work long and hard, i’m right here waiting for you with my legs open. on the days that you’re particularly tired, i’ll be on my knees, i’ll ride you and do all the work, and i’ll do everything happily because i love you.” rafe was crying with you by the time you finished speaking, both of you standing in the hallway.
“i get up at the ass crack of dawn and doll myself up everyday because i want to look good for you, i want to please you with everything i do. when we go to the country club, i speak of you in the highest regards, and i do it because i want everyone to know that i respect you. i do all of this, and i do it all without the commitment of having a fucking ring on my finger. if that doesn’t speak volumes for you, then i don’t know what does.” you walked inside your shared bedroom, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. he dropped to his knees once again, hugging your waist like you’d disappear if he let go. “we need each other. i need you.” he cried. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him up off the floor.
“i love you, y/n. please, you can’t leave.” you cupped his face. “i haven’t seen my parents in almost six months, rafe. i have to..” he nodded slowly, taking your hand in his. “then we’ll go together. ‘tell them we have a special announcement.” you watched him with a confused expression as he went to grab a small box out the bottom drawer of the bedside table. “rafe!” you gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth. “i’ve had this for a while now, i don’t know what i was waiting for, but i want to do this now.” he opened the box, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen lighting up your eyes.
“i know we have to work on some things, but there’s no one else i’d rather do this with.” you gazed into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “okay, let’s do it.”
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bunnyflrt · 8 months
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nah nah but like the "treat her like a princess fuck her like a slut" concept. devotional doms. doms that love sinking to their knees for their sub and kissing your legs and thighs and giving you head until you cry. doms that service and obey everywhere but the bedroom. keeping their sub up all night, making you beg for every touch, then taking you shopping the next day and carrying all your bags for you, refusing to let you lift a finger. doms that worship, not out of submission, but out of a loving devotion. doms who will say the filthiest things when you're falling apart beneath them and then whisper praises up your body. doms that kiss your stomach, your fingertips, the insides of your wrists, the back of your knees, the small of your back, all before leaving bruises and marks all over your pretty body. doms who tie you up as if it's prayer, tracing the ropes along every inch of you. doms who fuck you like a whore but love you like a devotee.
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headcanon that the smaller batkids steal the bigger ones' hoodies and jackets. and by "bigger ones" I mean literally anyone bigger than them.
jason gets the short end of the stick because dick and all his little siblings take his. tim's the only one bold enough to go for the leather jackets (well, and cass, but they're way too wide in the shoulders for her) but it's not uncommon to find dick or stephanie in a dark red or gray hoodie that smells of motor oil and gunpowder.
damian usually takes dick's hoodies, but they're very oversized on him. on the bright side, there are thumbholes in the sleeves of all dick's hoodies, so he can still use his hands. the thumbholes make them a hot commodity in the winter.
there is a tim-steph-cass jacket pipeline. steph steals tim's hoodies and cass takes them from steph. hence tim stealing jason's leather jackets -- steph won't take them, so he gets to hold on to them until jason realizes and takes them back. sometimes cass will also steal duke's hoodies, but she always returns them clean and neatly folded (unlike how it goes with the rest of the family, in which they are returned only under threat of blackmail or with long rounds of negotiation).
this is an extremely long-standing ring of jacket theft. you cannot leave a hoodie unattended in wayne manor. damian doesn't actually own any hoodies, and cass only owns one, because there's so many other people in the house to "borrow" one from. nowhere is safe. steph once broke into dick's apartment to steal his warm hoodie, the one with the fuzz on the inside.
but it goes the other way sometimes. jason leaves things in the pockets of his leather jackets for tim -- film for his camera, hand sanitizer, half-filled punch cards for local coffee shops with "drink water too, fucker" written on the back. cass will tuck little slips of paper in the cuffed sleeves when she leaves hoodies out. the notes don't say anything, but they have little smiley faces and hearts on them, and steph has taken to doing something similar with corny jokes. dick just straight-up leaves candy in the hoods of his jackets.
it's a game, it's a love language. it's simultaneously annoyance and affection. there's nothing like wearing a hoodie that's too big for you, that smells like your family, to make you feel safe.
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balteus · 5 months
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actually re: fromsoftware politics. i do think it's very interesting that the anti-colonialist RLF, ostensibly considered the 'good guys' of the game, were initially explicitly called the communist faction. armored core always has been a series critical of oligarchies and hyper-capitalism, but it's... very interesting to see just how blatant that is in ac6 specifically
you'd think that fromsoftware would eventually drop the ball on the "the ruling class will kill you and cannibalise itself in order to stay alive" considering that they're considered elite AAA devs rn, but thinking about elden ring and ac6's narratives, they've really only gotten more obvious about it - the horrors of colonialism and genocide and the sympathy given to the rage of its victims is something that's actually insane to see, to me, from such a big studio - fromsoft doesn't even attempt to be centrist about it.
for example, the frenzy flame ending. the only thing melina can tell you to dissuade you from pursuing it, ie literally destroying the world forever, is that there's still beauty in the world, apart from the suffering the golden order had caused. at no point however is the sheer despair of the people that the flame represents villanized. if anything, it's portrayed as a self-fulfilling prophecy, it is a tragedy. the only villain is the order who slaughtered all of these people, the flame of despair is something that emerged in them as they were buried alive. and the flame isn't even intended as a revenge upon the world, it's simply a means to end the pain they feel for being subjected to this.
their grief isn't something for the player to judge, it isn't something they're forced to overcome, it's simply a physical manifestation of the reality that was forced upon them. and these people, the merchants, are still kind to us, even knowing the order that we pursue. (in fact, the true, considered best ending of elden ring, is literally just sacrificing yourself in order to achieve complete anarchism. and getting a cool wife to endure the loneliness of space along the way)
in ac6 then, ayre is so terribly forgiving towards us, knowing what we are, knowing what made us, knowing what we participate in. some of this undoubtedly is because of her narrative role, she has to be a sympathetic character. but we do get to see her rage at the end, her grief for her species being seen as nothing more than a resource to be exploited or burned fully vocalized. but the RLF is sympathetic too as resistance fighters who want their home back. the only criticism the game ever leverages towards the RLF is that they're actually not radical enough in their pursuit of freedom, and that criticism is made by a villain.
it's so... i almost want to say optimistic? other games would have tried to pull a "ooh but what if the good guys did bad things (poor attempt at moral grayness)" but no, the RLF is justified at every step of the way. idk it makes me feel things. i dont particularly want to portray fromsoftware as these bastions of political correctness or sth - they're not perfect and i don't expect that ever lmao, but it's so fucking weird that their games are this progressive and have been for a long ass time.
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versadies · 1 month
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MY LOVE, MINE, ALL MINE (various x gn!reader)
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SALUTATIONS. my love, mine, all mine
ADDRESSED. neuvillette, alhaitham, capitano, diluc, itto, tartaglia, kaveh, kaeya (x gn!reader)
STAMPS. what body part they kiss the most (sfw)
CONTENT. ooc (?), fluff/no-angst, established relationships, possibly cheesy (not sorry), possible grammar errors, mentions of battle, mentions of blood (capitano, childe)
POST-SCRIPT. all these characters are nothing but pokemons to me, i see one, i'll collect one in game. part two will come soon (with zhongli, wriothesley, ayato, thoma, pierro, and pantalone!)
LINKS. masterlist / taglist / part two
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HANDS – Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Capitano, Diluc
NEUVILLETTE kisses your knuckles the most. To him, he believes that kissing you on the lips is far too intimate to be seen in public, preferring to do it in closed doors where it’s just the two of you alone, and so he often kisses your knuckles whenever he can. 
Whenever he does, one of his glove-covered hands would reach towards yours before lifting it to his lips, kissing each knuckle with care as though your hand is a delicate treasure, as if every kiss is a promise that he’ll hold your heart with care and unwavering devotion. 
It doesn’t help that you often find your cheeks warming up when his intense violet-shaded eyes look at yours, and no words were enough for you to explain the connection that you both have from just a simple stare. 
By the time he pulls away from your hand, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. 
“Oh, do you have a fever, my dear?” He asks worriedly, removing one of his gloves to check on the temperature of your forehead after kissing your knuckles out of nowhere while the two of you were lounging on the couch in his office. “Fret not, I can make something that can ease your fever away.” He adds, before standing up and rushes away to make a drink that will help you ease yourself, unaware that he’s the reason for your flustered state.
Ah, the things you’d do for this sweet man of yours. 
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The same goes for ALHAITHAM when it comes to kissing you in public. He believes that the two of you kissing on each other’s lips should be private with no one to ruin it or spoil the intimacy, and so you often find him kissing you in other parts instead – specifically, your hands or cheeks. 
It’s rare for him to kiss you in public since he’s not much of a PDA man, but when he does, it happens at a quiet or secluded moment when the world seems to be muted around you two. When Alhaitham finds himself staring at you for too long, he couldn’t help but smoothly put his hand on top of yours, and raises your hand towards his lips to kiss it. 
His turquoise-shaded eyes stay on yours when you look at him, never looking away as you feel his lips on your skin, bringing chills to your spine from the feeling. The way he stares at you is as if he knows your deepest secrets and desires, and knows what sets you off to make your knees become jelly-like.  
It doesn’t help that he’d casually act as if nothing happened after, as if it’s just a casual thing to do (it is, to him), leaving you staring at him with your mouth agape. 
“What? Cat got your tongue?” He asks, hiding a small smirk as he glances at you. 
He definitely knows what he’s doing. 
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CAPITANO is a strong man with a physique that could make anyone intimidated – both vision-holders and non-vision holders alike. It’s no doubt that such a powerful man like him would most likely be found in numerous battlefields, bringing the Tsaritsa many victories that she deserves. 
So it’s a strange sight to see said strong man on one knee, holding your hand as he gives it an affectionate kiss. He does it in a way that’s as though you’re a deity worth worshiping. He’s a captain by others, but to you, he’s your knight in shining armor (that’s corrupted by bloodshed and death, but we don’t talk about that here). 
You cannot see the expression he makes, but the way he kisses your hand is enough for you to know how much this man, who had killed so many and left no mercy to his opponents, is soft and caring for you. He kisses with care, as if afraid that you’ll shatter if he doesn’t control his strength. 
It became a custom for him to be on one knee and kiss your hand whenever he comes home to you from another mission – which is perhaps more often than you both like to admit. Despite your insistence that he doesn’t have to do such things, he does it anyway. In a way, it’s his way of apologizing to you for the lost time, and will do anything to make it up to you.
And he always did, with gifts, comfort, and of course, love. 
“I’m home, my love.” He spoke, with a hint of affection in his gruff voice that usually holds so much authority, kissing your hand tenderly.
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DILUC is a gentleman by heart, and although he’s seen as the epitome of perfection around Mondstadt, he is seen indoors as a vulnerable man who you dearly care for. For so long, the two of you have found comfort and love within one another in the dimly lit room that you both share in the manor. He’s your warmth, and you’re his pillar. 
In private, where no one could see underneath the aloof and courteous man but you, he’d tiredly wrap his arms around you as he sighed in contentment. It’s normal for a man such as him to be so tired from work, so tired from his duties, and so tired from everything outside of his manor, but he is never tired of you, his beloved spouse who he treasures. He’s a zealous soul who cares not for wealth and materialism, but for the people of Mondstadt and the ones he loves.  
Your hand is often intertwined with his, and he’d bring up your hand up to his lips in the quiet moments of your shared intimacy. To him, your hand is a canvas that he paints with his deep affection and adoration. 
You couldn’t help but soften up as a result, feeling cherished and loved by your beloved man who never fails to make you swoon. 
For Diluc, kissing your hand is more than some simple intimate gesture, but rather a way to honor your pure essence – to show you how grateful he is to have you who has captured his soul in a tight grip that he never wants to leave from. And so, he continues to kiss your hand more, each a testament with a silent vow to love you throughout your lives together. 
“A-Ah.. My bad,” He clears his throat, his ears turning almost as red as his hair, “It seems I almost got carried away.” 
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LIPS – Itto, Tartaglia, Kaveh, Kaeya
ITTO is a kind soul at heart, with a fiery passion when it comes to his loved ones – specifically, and with no certain favoritism, you. The oni is not one to shy away from showing you how much he loves you with all of his huge heart, so expect lots of kisses from him! 
The most prominent part that he kisses is of course, your lips. 
For Itto, there is no greater joy than the taste of your lips, each kiss contains joy and love on his end. With his endless energy and passionate spirit, he approached each kiss and affection  with an infectious enthusiasm, eager to lose himself in the overwhelming warmth of your presence and affection. 
In the sweetness of your kiss, he finds it much better than the feeling of sweet victory from a beetle battle, and he couldn’t find himself to remove the pleased grin on his face whenever he gets a kiss from you. 
It’s as if your lips is a magnetic force to his, as he never hesitates to kiss you whenever he could – be it whenever he greets you, whenever he wins a battle, basically every moment with him (a bit of an exaggeration really, but you get what I mean!). 
“My boo boo bear!” He cheers when he sees you in his vision, running up towards you as he instantly gives you a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up with his immense strength regardless of your weight. “I missed you! How was your day?” He asks excitedly, giving you a big smooch! on your lips.
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CHILDE is just as fun as Itto – if you excuse his battlelust, of course. Besides his need for an activity or someone to fight with, the prowess fighter is not shy when it comes to giving you what he believes you deserve, which is giving you his undying affection.
He’s an infectious man, who leeches off to your kisses and hugs. He’s a fighter by spirit, but a lover by heart. He’s attentive to your needs, very willing to give you tons of kisses if you ask for it. Of course, even if you didn’t, he’d snatch a kiss or two from you without you expecting it. 
His love is like an unforgiving ocean, often wild and untamed, yet it comes with a fierce and unrelenting passion. In moments between the two of you, he seeks to plant his lips on yours, as though your kiss is a battlefield conquered by him, a well-done victory even. 
With each kiss on your lips is a vow, a vow that he’ll see to it that he gets to see the light of day after every battle, to see you by the end of the tunnel and show you that you won’t lose him that easily. For in your presence, he found his salvation, the arm that reaches out to him to pull him out of the abyss he’s in, guiding him out of the unforgiving ocean that seems to drown him whole. 
And so, he’ll never stop kissing you, regardless of where you are and the circumstances. 
“Were you watching me?” He asks eagerly, running up to you before planting a kiss on your lips, his hands that are scarred from the numerous weapons he held and the battles he fought in find themselves cupping your cheeks. 
When he pulls away, he looks at your eyes with a cheeky grin. “I did great, didn’t I?”
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Known for his works and talent, KAVEH is no doubt a respectable man around the land of wisdom and scholars. Many would sing praises to his masterpieces and his original ideas that bring potential to Sumeru. As what a certain scribe would describe him, he is the light of Kshahrewar and a master builder and craftsman. 
However, such a bright reputation hides a man whose heart is tender and emotionally fragile, with too much on his plate. Which is why he is ever so grateful to have you by his side through it all.
For every affection the two of you share, Kaveh feels like the luckiest man in all of Sumeru – no, in Teyvat even. He doesn’t feel like he deserves you, a person who loves him for all that he is. With you, he feels cherished and appreciated even, and you balance his emotional fragility with your presence that seems so encouraging and comforting.
He seeks refuge in your affection, often cupping your cheeks and giving you a kiss. His kisses are frequent, and his lips often find themselves on yours. Each of his kiss is full of love, and there’s no doubt that there seems a desperation laced in it, as if he’s scared that this kiss is his last, and you might be gone before he knew it – just like his loved ones. 
Yet, in the softness of your lips, he found reassurance. He’s reminded that amidst the struggles of his life, your relationship remains timeless and true. Just like how he does with his work, he pours his heart and soul into your relationship together, cherishing the bond that you both have towards one another with  tenderness.
“Thank you.” He said, kissing you on your lips with a look that threatens to crumble. “I know I’ve said it too many times, but I can’t help myself. I really am grateful.” 
When you ask for what he’s thanking you for, he could only give you a smile, a sight that shines far brighter than the sun itself.
“Thank you for staying.”
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You’d be lying if you said you’ve always thought you’d end up dating the notorious Cavalry Captain, who is more than often a flirtatious man whenever you’re around. KAEYA is not one who shies away from something, and if it means reminding you every now and then that he’s into you, then so be it!
Every waking moment with Kaeya is a thrilling challenge, and you two often find yourselves in a dance of wits and flirts, with a few glasses of wine and other drinks that the tavern sells. The two of you know how to push the other’s buttons, often playing banters and all. Even when you two are now dating, things are still the same – besides the fact that the two of you are free to kiss one another and often crash at each other’s places. 
Yet underneath such playful flirting and bantering, there’s a deep and abiding connection between the two of you that remains unspoken but welcomed.
Unsurprisingly, Kaeya finds home in your lips. To him, it just felt right. Sure, he likes to kiss your hands and cheeks, but it’s a different story when it comes to your lips. For him, stealing a kiss on your lips is not just an ordinary gesture of affection, but rather a declaration of his unwavering love for you. 
And so, more often than not, he prefers kissing you more on your lips.
With a teasing look and smirk on his face, he’d pull you close towards him without warning, his lips finding yours with an urgency that left you both breathless. There’s often laughter and desire lingering around the privacy of your bedroom, and it was a safe sanctuary that Kaeya finds comfort in. 
His laughter would fade into a whisper of “I love you”’s as he traces his cold fingertips on your face that he loves to see at every waking moment. He cherished these kinds of moments, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t spend each one as if it’s his last. And so, he continues to give you more kisses to drown your sweet laughter, for in your warmth and embrace, he could only find his great happiness and peace. 
“Come on, give me another one.” He chuckles, urging you to let him give you one more kiss before the two of you can sleep in each other’s arms. “Just one more kiss, I promise.”
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PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @ragnvdnr @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @shaiah @miss-lady-witch @yashe @imkaaayy @badlywrittens @0rah-s @totallynotaraidensimp @garlicforthewin
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esaari · 11 months
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babygirl o'hara
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nipuni · 1 year
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Sing for me!!
A step by step process of this will be available at my Patreon on may 1st 😊
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qingxin-dream · 7 months
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Scara relaxing on the couch with you<3 if u do NSFW having him cockwarm you so he can relax
“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬”
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summary | today was one of those days where nothing could go right. well, maybe, it’s been like that for awhile. and you know damn well that your loving husband was not about to watch you fall into despair. (art credits: unknown)
warnings | not proofread, reader has a mental breakdown, comfort, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, cockwarming, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, slightly possessive/dominant, marking, breeding kink, creampie
genre | modern au, comfort, smut
word count | 3k
pairing | husband! scaramouche x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The sky had been overcast all day, only putting a damper on your mood. Work has somehow become extra stressful lately with more and more responsibilities piling up. You felt the crushing weight on your shoulders with each passing hour and you couldn’t wait for the clock to hit 5pm.
The last place you wanted to be was at work, away from home, and without your husband, Scaramouche. Even then, your relationship was getting to a point where it was nothing more than bitter roommates. He had missions to complete while you were obligated to work every day. Someone had to be the breadwinner, after all.
Sweet freedom washes over your exhausted body when it’s finally time to go home. You rush outside only to find that the clouds had turned a nasty gray color and wet droplets of rain dotted your suit jacket.
Great, you forgot an umbrella.
The rain was really picking up now, your clothes soaked and your hair flattening into drenched clumps. Running through the downpour, you had to make it another block to your car until you got stopped at an intersection—narrowly avoiding the wave of water a speeding car almost splashed onto you.
Once you practically leaped into your car for safety, the sense of stillness that suddenly permeated the air brought you back down to earth. You were more than overworked. You were burned out, with hot tears freely streaming down your face in a choked sob. Gripping the steering wheel, you slumped your forehead onto your knuckles, shoulders shaking as you cried out all the pressure you had bottled up inside. The rain beat against the windshield, drowning out your agony.
Once you managed to compose yourself with a few sad sniffles here and there, you turned the key in the ignition. Tonight you decided to forget about everything. No stress. No work. Not even a single load of laundry. You couldn’t muster the strength for anything other than some sort of self-care or self-indulgence.
When you walked through the door with an expression bordering on despair, Scaramouche knew you had a rough day. He frowned to himself. Frankly, the distance between you two was a sore spot for him as of late and he was expecting you to lock yourself in the bedroom.
At first, he had been stubborn about the tangible separation pushing you further and further away from him. Foolishly, Scaramouche had tried to drown himself in his busy work and missions, simply trying to ignore it. But after a while, he realized that this damned feeling of alienation and being constantly on edge like some old married couple was ridiculous.
That’s not who he married or the life he signed up for, and Scaramouche found himself determined to finally act like you both loved each other for once.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted you from the couch. Looking down at his casual sweatpants and shirt, you wished you could’ve stripped down and lazed around on the couch this afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. He offers a small olive branch with his softened tone of voice. “Why don’t you get changed and come sit with me? I missed you.”
You drew in a hesitant breath. Perhaps it was your way of attempting to decompress before answering your husband or you were unsure of his intentions. The couch was definitely calling to you, and the prospect of your lover’s comforting arms enveloping you was even more tempting. In a haste, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag, nodding with a bit of a pitiful pout on your lips as you went into the bedroom.
Scaramouche perked up slightly upon hearing your return, making room for you on the couch so that he could spoon you just right. As you sat down, his hand immediately went to your hip and he found himself gravitating toward the comforting crevice of your neck. Your skin was colder than he expected from the rain but he was more than willing to share his warmth with you, his fingers venturing up the contour of your waist under your baggy shirt.
“There’s goosebumps on your skin,” he noted with an obvious smile in his voice. “Why don’t you take this off and let me warm you up, hm?”
You gaze at him over your shoulder, catching the subtle seductive intonation of his offer. Despite his pads of his fingers gently caressing and massaging your hip in encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure if you had it in you for too much physical affection. Most of all, you just felt tired.
Yet, Scaramouche always got his way. Maybe it was how the words rolled off his tongue that sparked your imagination in the back of your mind, or that mischievous gleam of excitement in his violet eyes. He had no problem catering to your needs, helping you slowly lift that baggy shirt over your shoulders and tossing it aside. He quickly did the same.
Suddenly, he ensnared you in his arms, burying his nose in your neck and sighing. The feeling of your back pressed against his bare, muscular chest was like a balm soothing his soul. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, surprised by his enthusiasm, and pull a heavy blanket over you both.
“Better get rid of these too,” Scaramouche suggested softly into the shell of your ear, tugging at the elastic waistband of your shorts. He generously nuzzled your neck, peppering a few kisses across your sensitive skin to distract you as he easily slipped you out of your bottoms.
Your whimpers were buried in your throat. You purposely tried to stifle it, but the little shiver of your neck and body against his ministrations couldn’t hide your true feelings forever. The slow drag of his hand up your plush thighs, over the round of your hip, and dangerously close to your breasts was merely a confirmation of your suspicions.
“Scara… please,” you murmur, sounding more like a faint plea for peace and relaxation. “My feet hurt so much. I don’t think I can move anymore, let alone do—”
“Shhh, love, you really think I’m going to make you do anything?” he asks rhetorically, the timbre of his sweet words deepening to a level bordering on husky. His hand travels back down the curves of your body with silent reverence, hoping to ease your worries. “I don’t think you realize how hard you’ve been working until it breaks you.”
With a click of his tongue, your husband continues to let his hand journey over every inch of your lovely form. Your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, hips, thighs… If he was being honest, Scaramouche would never have thought he’d discover someone as perfectly imperfect as you. To not remind you of how much he secretly worships your whole being would be a grave sin in his eyes.
“I feel like I never see you anymore. We never talk anymore,” he mumbles into your shoulder blade, taking his time to kiss and nibble as much of your upper back as he could. You involuntarily arched your back, the sensation of his mouth along your spine sending pulses of electric desire through you. His voice shifts into a possessive growl. “And I miss my wife.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you weep dryly, rolling your head back to relax on him fully. Your thoughts instantly short-circuited at the revelation of his thick bulge pressing into the plush of your ass, tactically held in place by his fingertips digging into your love handle. You were so ready to just melt into him completely, to give in and let him take care of you.
“Don’t ask for my forgiveness,” he quickly interjected to correct you. You could feel the smirk spreading on his face as he leans into you as much as possible. The back of his hand ghosts your inner thigh, nudging it to the side. “Show me how much you want my mercy.”
You were hanging on every syllable that left his lips in a hushed whisper. A featherlight touch grazed near your outer labia, enough to capture your attention like a moth to a flame. That was all it took for him to push your mind over the edge. It was pathetic, really, how you were desperately trying to mentally fill in the blanks and imagine the pleasure of his slender fingers massaging your needy clit.
Scaramouche knew exactly what he was doing. He loved getting a rise out of you. Admiring the subtle contortion of your features in pleasure may be his favorite pastime. Tickling the insides of your thighs and skirting skillfully around the one place you wanted him most, he scoffed in amusement every time you sighed softly in frustration.
“I thought you were going to be nice,” you groaned impatiently, beginning to lazily roll your hips in rhythm with the intermittent brush of his fingers just shy of your cunt.
“I am,” he snickered into your collarbone, his hot breath pouring down your chest and thrilling your skin. “You can’t lie to me. I know you like when I tease you until you’re begging for me to stuff you to the brim.”
Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you managed to defiantly buck your hips forward and finally feel the tantalizing glide of his index and middle fingers between your slick folds. The sweet victory ripped a lewd moan of your lover’s name from your pretty throat. To say you were utterly addicted to the sound of him parting the lips of your glistening pussy might be an understatement.
“Tsk, tsk, good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Scaramouche mocks you lightheartedly, though his fingers don’t leave your clit. Rather, he circles the sensitive nub at a tantalizingly slow pace to earn another cock-twitching moan from your angelic mouth. “I could touch you like this all night… unless you’d rather serve your punishment on my cock instead?”
You were too preoccupied with the intoxicating pleasure concentrated on your aching clit, eyelashes resting on your cheeks and jaw slightly agape. Scaramouche chuckled deeply into your ear with satisfaction, returning his lips to your neck but this time with a little more force. His teeth sunk into you, intent on leaving a good bruise.
It would be a clear reminder in the morning of who you belong to.
He sucked a little harder, causing you to yelp in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. His words were muffled against your skin with a gentle scolding. “I asked you a question.”
“C-cock, please,” you nearly choke, starting to grind sloppily onto his hand for some sense of relief. His other arm underneath you tightened, essentially pinning you to the heat radiating from his body from behind.
“Whose cock?” Scaramouche grumbled jealously at your vague plea. He needed to know that you didn’t just want anyone’s cock to fill up your drenched, gummy hole. The intensity of his violet irises demanded an answer, glued to your blissed out and desperate expression. His fingers were hastily stimulating your clit as he intently watched you parse love and lust on the brink of an orgasm.
“Y-your cock! Please! I need it so bad,” you cried out loudly, the threat of tears lingering behind your eyes. He abruptly slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, and then shoved his hot, veiny cock pulsating with desire across your soaking wet entrance.
Scaramouche couldn’t stop the salacious groans under his breath, wanting you to hear all the ways you make him unravel. He was eager to drag the mushroomed, pink tip of his cock over your clit over and over, occasionally teasing your hole with the pressure of his length trying to nestle itself within you. But he never pushed it all in. Instead, he continued to gather your essence on his cock—the mere thought of cumming in your rosy folds like this and fucking it messily drove him wild.
“Don’t tell me… hnnnghh… that this is all you want, (Y/N),” he grunted with honeyed pleasure, grinding at a little faster rhythm. You were already nearing your climax again, whispering prayers and praises under your breath for Scaramouche to plunge into you and fuck you senseless.
His hand was still tightly covering your mouth, so you simply shake your head and moan breathily to ask for more.
“Mm, good girl,” he mumbles intimately, kissing your ear and nuzzling you affectionately again. “I know my baby is tired and needy, so I’ll let you be my little cocksleeve tonight, okay?”
You nod and hum against his hand enthusiastically.
He takes the opportunity to shower you with a few more kisses, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance once more. Your walls were already squeezing eagerly on the small inch of his tip inside you and he didn’t dare delay any longer. Scaramouche grabs you by the hip and buries the entirety of his thick cock in your slick tightness, his eyebrows crinkling at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him like a vice.
“F-fuck!” Scaramouche curses sharply, bottoming out completely in your aroused cunt. “So good. S-so fucking good, yeah…”
“A-ah, yes! Mm…” you sighed raggedly with ecstasy, pure pleasure and relief washing over you. His huge cock was stretching you perfectly, the lips of your pussy sucking him in at every possible chance. Despite your exhaustion, your husband had wound you up so much that you begged for tiniest semblance of a thrust into your sopping hole. “Oh my god, p-please, fuck me.”
Without warning, you decided to selfishly fuck yourself on his throbbing cock, but Scaramouche instantly snatched your throat. He held you tightly against his pecs and craned your neck with a forceful grip so that you were facing the ceiling, your oxygen partially cut off. The submissive position had your spongy walls dilating in excitement.
“No, no, wait,” he chastised you, his voice cracking slightly at the end as he struggled to adjust to your greedy cunt. “N-Need I remind you, love? Good things come to those who wait; and if you’re lucky, I’ll cum in you.”
He couldn’t believe your pussy was still quaking around his girth, releasing your neck as you nodded obediently. Once he pulled you into him tightly with his strong arms around your stomach, Scaramouche nudged your legs closed so that you could completely envelope his cock. It was incredibly hot every time he shifted to get more comfortable and your walls only swallowed him further. His breathing calmed slightly, wanting to relax with you for the rest of the night deep within your cunt.
“I-It feels too good, Scara,” you whined, cuddling into the pillow on the couch and clutching the warm blanket to your chest.
For the love of Celestia, your body was so exhausted from work but at the same time you wished you had the strength to fuck him like crazy. You made a mental note to wake him up tomorrow morning with the feeling of your folds lubricating his hardened cock, sinking completely onto his impressive length when his pretty indigo eyes sleepily opened for the first time. You’d make sure to hush him and keep his sleeping mask on snugly, fucking him to your heart’s content.
But for now, your husband returned to worshipping the expanse of your soft curves, coaxing you to relax despite the occasional twitch of his cock inside you. Scaramouche’s voice was smooth as silk when he whispered into the crook of your neck, “See? That wasn’t so bad now. Why don’t you turn on your show and I’ll keep this pretty pussy of yours company for as long as you need, hm?”
You both melted into each other’s embrace, connected in every way imaginable for the first time in a long time. The sensation of your lover’s cock nestling into your folds slowly nudged your sweet spot, drawing breathy moans out of you. He thrusted slowly but deeply, marveling at the lust clouding your eyes pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.
Though Scaramouche was enraptured by the heavenly sound of your pussy slurping his cock, the need burning in his core was beginning to overtake him. “Mm, turn around for me, babe.”
He was gentle and attentive to you as he helped you face him, holding you firmly against his chest and quickly ensuring his cock didn’t leave your cunt for too long. As he stuffed you full, his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your hair, keeping your lips planted on his as you lazily swirled your tongue on his own and moaned his name.
“Nnghh, can’t take it anymore,” Scaramouche growled hungrily into your mouth, lifting your leg slightly to support you so he could delve his cock deeper. His tone trailed off in a quiet beg, “Lemme breed you, (Y/N). Please…”
“Mhmm,” you agreed without hesitation, cupping your lover’s cheek and kissing him with growing reckless abandon.
He was unequivocally smitten by your ardent claim to his lips, groaning lewdly into the kiss as he began to fuck your desperately pulsating pussy. His grip on you tightened, focusing solely on ravaging your walls until you were on the verge of screaming his praise.
“Hah, that’s it. Goddamn it, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he takes your lower lip between his teeth roughly, plunging ruthlessly and chasing his impending orgasm. “You can take it, you can take it, yeah… you better fucking cum all over me or else, I swear…”
You reeled him in with a firm tug of his dark purple locks, nearly crying in pleasure onto his tongue intermingling with yours. Moaning and whimpering like a whore, you clutched onto your lover like your life depended on it. “O-Oh my god, Scara, shit, I’m cumming! I’m… mmph, f-fucking c-cumming…!”
Scaramouche pounded his cock into your sopping release, a guttural groan escaping him as he generously coated your spasming walls with loads of his hot seed. He kept himself buried in your cum-laden folds, your erotic juices mixing around the base of his cock while he kissed you softly.
“God… you have no idea how much I missed you.”
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thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.
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sinnabee · 3 months
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You do moons ass Mondays right
so do suns ass Sundays
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your wish is my command, anon
everyone say hello to sun ass sunday. but of course, as the rule goes... suns out? guns out. >:3c
i will be barring the castle doors and fortifying my defenses in preparation for the uprising, but no, i am not sorry for this
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flem17ng · 6 days
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Jackie who knew she was a lesbian.
Jackie who had been in love with shauna for as long as she could remember.
jackie who hid her feelings behind her mediocre boyfriend.
jackie who spent every day wishing shauna would notice her feelings
jackie who didn’t care that her boyfriend cheated on her but shouldn’t handle the thought of shauna with someone else
jackie who felt a pang of hope when she saw tai and van together at the dance.
jackie who wished she could be angry at shauna
jackie who loved shauna regardless
jackie who fell asleep in the snow wishing that shauna should come and bring her inside
jackie who would have come inside if shauna asked
jackie who would do anything if shauna asked, even stay outside in the cold and freeze.
jackie who’s last thoughts were of shauna
jackie who would haunt shauna forever as long as she got to be with her
jackie who would let shauna consume her if she wanted to, if it meant shauna would live.
jackie who wanted to be consumed by shauna
jackie who knew she wanted shauna, who loved shauna, who lived and breathed shauna.
jackie who would rather die than for shauna to find out.
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zorcha · 2 months
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mrsaltieri-real · 9 months
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Like a Virgin pt3 (Virgin!Ethan Landry x Fem!AFAB!Reader)
Warnings/s: 18+, smut, p in v, langauge, riding, first time, degradation, established degradation kink, premature ejaculation, praise kink, oral, (fem receiving) squirting, face fucking, (Ethan’s a needy, greedy little fucker whose found a love in eating pussy)dom!reader, basically pure filth, brief mention of Richie’s death and his father snapping, etc
Length: 2.5k
Here’s the third and final part of this little series. I had a lot of fun writing this part. A. Lot. Probably the smuttiest thing I’ve ever fucking wrote and I had a lot of fun with it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you again for this request, anon!
Read part 1 HERE
Read part 2 HERE
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Ethan couldn’t believe this was really happening. The last few years of his life were filled with nothing but pain and carnage. The grieving of his brother, his father snapping after the fact…
He knew why he was here, in the apartment you shared with Tara, Sam and unbeknownst to them, his sister. But in this moment, gazing up at your gorgeous face in awe as you gently rolled your hips across his slowly swelling cock, the feeling of your soft hands resting on his shoulders with your fingernails lightly digging into his creamy skin, all of that abandoned his mind completely. He just wanted to focus on you.
He felt anxious as he lifted his trembling hands to hesitantly rest them on your hips, feeling the tight arousal begin to slowly build up inside of him for the second time tonight. A small part of his brain was surprised that he was able to get hard again as his cock began to swell. Maybe you just had this kind of effect on him.
He’d wanted you for as long as he’d known you, craved you even. He’d been completely oblivious to the lingering looks and lustful gazes you had in turn been sending his way these last couple of weeks, although you had of course noticed his. Ethan was a lot of things but subtle was absolutely not one of them.
The feeling of your increasingly wet pussy sliding over him was already becoming almost too much for him to handle. You watched as his expression turned into one of pure concentration as his blunt fingernails dug into the soft skin of your hips and you let out a small laugh.
“You can’t cum just yet, you know? I’m not even fucking you.”
“I know.” He huffed a little, his voice strained. “It just feels really good.”
You smiled down at him, one hand moving from his chest as you lifted your hips, reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock in your hand, slowly guiding it to the entrance of your soaked hole. He let out a small whimper as he felt his tip gently rest just inside of you and your hand moved back to his chest, still hovering just above him.
“You ready?” You asked softly.
He wanted to move so badly, feel you envelop him entirely, squeezing and milking him. He had to stop himself, a sheen of sweat from the unbridled concentration beginning to form on his forehead and chest.
“Yes! Yes, just… please?” He spoke softly, utterly beautiful and almost already a complete mess.
“Please what?”
“Please take me.” He blurted out, unable to disguise his desperate need “Please take me.”
For some reason, him saying this made you let out a small groan, looking down at him with a deep want as you slowly, deliberately rolled your hips, sighing at the satisfying stretch as he slowly began to fill you. You watched his face all the while, his eyes fluttering and starting to roll back as his hands gripped your hips even tighter.
You are a dominating person, especially when it comes to sex. But this was Ethan’s first time and honestly, you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Not just yet, anyway. As you adjusted to him, you rocked your hips, sinking down onto him completely and making him let out a small, surprised gasp in the process as he felt your heat completely cover him
“Fuck,” you moaned gently, leaning back on top of him so he could see his cock buried inside of you.
Ethan’s eyes were now set on the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen; him completely engulfed by you. He stared, mouth slack as you began to grind and roll your hips, watching as his dick slid inside of your cunt with hungry eyes. “How’s it- fuck. How’s it feel?“ you asked, looking down at him with a small smirk.
“Oh- oh my god.” He was so sweetly hypnotised at the sight before him, feeling every part of your hot, wet cunt with his dick. It was almost too much.
“Look at me.” You demanded, leaning forward again to grip his hair between your fingers so he was forced to look at your face. As you did so, he felt your hard nipples graze over his and he shivered a little. “Tell me how it feels.”
“I- I can’t explain.” He gasped quickly, tensing up as he felt you very deliberately squeeze around him.
“Be a good boy and try. You’re my good boy, aren’t you Ethan?” Your face was inches away from his, one hand still gripping his hair and the other slowly moved between you and started circling your clit gently, applying the pressure that would make you squeeze him in just the way you knew he’d love. He let out a loud whimper at your praise and the tight, warm feeling, brown eyes huge and desperate.
“Yes, yes I’m your good boy, I promise.” He whispered shakily.
“Then tell me-“ another sharp grind of your ass made him almost begin to sob there and then. “- how it fucking feels.”
“Feels fucking amazing. You’re so tight. Squeezing me. I can’t- fuck-“ his voice was shaking and trailed off and you watched as his eyes screwed up and his hips thrust up into you, making you gasp and let out a surprised moan as he brushed that little spot deep inside of you with his tip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have moved, I’m sorry, I just- god, I just-“ he began apologising, fast and rambling with his voice rising and falling with every collapse of your hips as he opened his eyes and tears from the stimulation began to spill down his cheeks. You let out a breathless laugh, moving to place your hand over his mouth.
“It’s okay, baby. You want me to stop?“
His voice was loud but muffled as he practically yelled, “No, no, please no!” from behind your hand, his desperation for you only turning you on even more.
“Look at you.” You almost scoffed a little, moving your hands from his mouth to wipe the pathetic tears that stained his cheeks. “You’re fucking crying? So needy, so pathetic.” You laughed down at him, sighing as your head fell back whilst you continued to bounce on top of him, clenching and unclenching your pussy with every fall. Some part of Ethan was surprised he enjoyed you calling him pathetic, the words only making him throb inside of you desperately.
You felt him twitch, laughing to yourself breathlessly and shaking your head at him. “You’re not to fucking cum, not yet. Understand?“ the pathetic whimper that fell from him as he looked up at you pleadingly was endearing as fuck and it made the feeling of your impending orgasm loom even closer.
“Understand?” You said again, more firmly this time and he bobbed his head a little, the series of broken whimpers still falling from his plump lips. “You’re not cumming until I do.” You told him. “Now, I want you to match me, okay?” He blinked a little, streaming eyes falling down to watch how you rolled your hips and he let out a soft huff as he, much more tentatively this time, bucked his hips up as yours came down. He felt proud of the intense moans that came out of you and he continued to thrust into you, feeling himself press into something hard that resulted in you letting out a loud, almost pornograpgic groan, feeling yourself clench around him even harder, your fingers still desperately rubbing at your clit. This ended up being the result of him uncontrollably beginning to twitch inside of you.
“Oh god… oh GOD.” His head fell back into the pillow as he began to unload inside of you, a series of downright delicious whimpers and moans falling out of him as he coated your walls. He trembled as a loud sob escaped his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him, writhing as his hips stuttered and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Oh, I’m sorry? Did I say you could cum?” You asked him. In all honesty, you weren’t at all mad. Seeing him like this, his curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat and his face twisted and him crying in pleasure was all the satisfaction you needed.
“I’m sorry.” He said in a small, slurred voice, his chest heaving as he gradually stopped twitching and writhing from under you, his cock slowly began to soften inside of you and throbbing dully. He suddenly blinked, realising what he’d done. “Oh.. you didn’t.. oh, fuck.” He felt angry at himself for not obeying you, not making you cum with his cock, but that was somewhat filtered out by the intense pleasure he was also feeling from his first time being that damn good.
“It’s alright, honey. Next time.” You lightly patted his cheek before climbing off of him and standing up, hearing him wince as his raw cock slid out of your dripping hole.
“No, no.” You could hear the frown in his voice and you turned down to face him, seeing him practically scramble across the bed to fall to his knees in front of you.
“What are you-“
“Let me?” He asked, eyes pleading as they flickered up to your face and to your leaking cunt, marvelling as he saw his cum spilling out of you. “Please let me?”
“I don’t know..” you sighed, raising an eyebrow down at him. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you not to cum. Why should I let you do this when you clearly want it so badly?”
“Please?” He begged again, eyes incapable of looking at anything else other than your pussy. “I can apologise better this way. Let me?”
You couldn’t help but smile down at him fondly.
“So fucking desperate, aren’t you? Wanting to eat your cum out of me and get me off.” He licked his lips a little, waiting almost impatiently for you to give him the go ahead.
“Fine then, get me off.”
He didn’t need anything more. His mouth latched eagerly to your swollen clit, almost making you fall backward. You gripped his shoulder for balance as he eagerly licked and sucked at your clit, cradling it between his soft lips. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, lifting your leg and resting it over his shoulder so you could rest your hands in his hair, pushing his face against your cunt. His hands slid up your legs to grip your ass, holding him as close to you as possible as his tongue moved from your clit to delve into your hole that was stuffed with his cum. He moaned against you, tasting the mixture of both of your arousal on his tongue as he hungrily curled his tongue inside of you, looking up at your face to ensure it was okay.
“Mmm- fuckkkkk.” You moaned out, head falling back. Now he was past the shy, awkward stage and was now intensely eager and more confident in eating you out, the feeling was almost indescribable. His tongue was soft and velvety as you rocked your hips on his face yet again, his nose softly bumping against your clit. “Fucking filthy boy.” You murmured, fingers twisting in his hair as your head fell forward to look down at him. “Eating me so good, aren’t you baby? Making me feel fucking amazing.” He huffed eagerly against your cunt at your praise, moaning loudly against you as you began to grind your hips faster. “Use your fingers and rub my clit.” You instructed, feeling the coil inside of you close to snapping.
He moved his hand from your ass to do just that, his fingers sloppily running over your swollen bundle of nerves. This tipped you over the edge, your fingers yanking at his hair as you panted and moaned, uncontrollably grinding your pussy all over his face. He tried to keep up with the movements, not wanting to miss out on even a drop of your sweet juices as you let out a sound not even you had heard before and began twitching and writhing above him. Your sudden unexpected movements startled him a little and he began to move back from your pussy, eyes almost alarmed.
“Don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare stop.” You almost shouted, grabbing the back of his head and forcing his face back to your quivering cunt. He obliged, attaching his lips to your clit once again and sucking nice and hard, humming softly against you and sending vibrations through your core.
“Oh, fuck baby, fuck yes.” You cried out, legs trembling as you not only came practically sobbing Ethan’s name as you rode and fucked his pretty face, but did something that had never happened before. You weren’t sure if it was because he was genuinely good, or the fact it was the knowledge that the guy hungrily sucking at your clit was Ethan, but something inside you snapped and you began squirting against his mouth as your whole body convulsed, a series of loud and unfiltered cries of pure ecstasy falling through your lips.
Ethan greedily lapped up your spraying juices, eyes still wide in surprise as he felt and swallowed how much came out of you.
You were shaking and still twitching as Ethan finished licking happily until you were clean and finished, smiling proudly in front of you as your leg dropped from his shoulder and you stumbled a little to sit on your bed.
“Jesus.” You sighed out, body still trembling uncontrollably.
“Are you okay?” His proud expression suddenly switched up to concern as he shuffled closer to you on his knees, resting a large hand on your shaking knee. “Oh, god did I hurt you? Was I not supposed to-“
“Shh, baby.” You said softly, smiling weakly and resting a shaky hand on his cheek. He leaned into it happily, his eyes closing at your touch. “I’m fine. I’ve just… never cum like that before.”
“Really?” He looked almost smug and you let out a small breathless laugh.
“Yeah, really. Don’t look like that.” You scolded him playfully before falling back onto your bed, trying to steady your breathing.
You felt the bed dip and then watched him as he laid down next to you, looking at your face all the while. You chuckled a little, lifting your hand to gently wipe your leftover arousal and his dried up tears from his chin and cheeks.
“Are you okay? This being your first time and all?”
“Oh, are you kidding?” The smile that broke across his face was infectious. “That was..wow. I don’t even think I can explain it.” His eyes were still huge and wild, glinting in the dim light. You rolled over so you were on your stomach, leaning over him to kiss him gently on his swollen lips. “You’re a good teacher.” He said as you pulled away a little to look at him.
“You’re a good student. Very obedient.” Your tone was approving and it made him grin happily.
“I liked doing what you told me.” He admitted almost shyly. “And I liked other stuff too.”
“What other stuff?” You pressed him, suddenly curious.
“Like when you uh…” he trailed off, shaking his head a little. “No, it doesn’t matter.”
“Come on,” you cupped his cheek in your hand, pulling his face back to look at you. “I’m not gonna judge you, what did you like?”
Ethan sighed a little. He couldn’t say no to you anymore, it just wasn’t possible.
“When you said I was… needy.” He spoke in a small hesitant voice. “… and pathetic.”
You raised your eyebrows at him a little, feeling oddly charmed by his little confession. “You liked that, hm?”
He nodded shyly, eyes still looking into yours. “More than I thought I would.”
“Well,” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe next time we can see what else you like.”
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hotdrinks · 10 months
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[ID: A greyscale drawing of Martin Blackwood and Jon Sims lying close together in bed with their legs intertwined and foreheads touching. The scene is dark, but martin holds his phone between them, the light from the screen highlights their faces. There's a speech bubble by Martin's head to indicate that he is talking excitedly while Jon looks at him fondly. End ID]
Jon is the king of the infodump but Martin also has many Cool Facts to share.
(jmart cuddling for @milkteamoon thank u my friend <33)
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kokoasci · 1 year
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shoutout to the sigma enjoyers (its me i am sigma enjoyers)
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cordyce · 1 year
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"i don’t like the way they keep staring at you." w/ peeta 'if it weren't for the baby' mellark? :3
truthfully, your hands are beginning to grow a little shaky from doing this for so long. the minor tremble is smudging your paint strokes, causing a few swipes to stray from the imaginary lines you have mapped out in your head. but no one can fault you for that; not rightfully. you're not the skilled painter here.
and as if on cue the man who's art you adore so much is sliding up next to you. painfully close–abnormally close, more like. you are not a stranger to his affection but something about how a calloused hand finds the divot in the small of your back so swiftly has you tipping your head to address him. in such a public venue, no less.
"yes?" you adhere as you turn to peeta with a smile. but a smile is not what you're greeted with in return. no, this upturn of lips is a little too slanted for that, a little too suave.
"nothing, just came to admire the expert at work." it's all he says, all he gives, and you know it cannot be all there is because he has that glint in his eye he only gets when he is being smarmy.
"right, well, we both know i'm not the expert here, so," you blow through a chuckle as you drop your paintbrush into a murky cup of water. "what is it you really came over here for, mr. mellark?"
you turn to face him properly and expect this to be where he drops his hands, looses his hold on you. but he does exactly the opposite. instead of feigning, his fingers simply shift–down to your belt loops. there's a single tug; harsh and surging enough you can now feel the heat of his thighs radiating against yours.
"i don't like the way they keep staring at you." and it's jolting; how he says it with such a sickeningly sweet tongue and cherry pressed lips, as if his eyes aren't glinting like the blades of daggers in moonlight.
you lick your lips, force a laugh as you pat at his chest to stave off the turn of your stomach. "please, they're probably just admiring my expert painting skills. this is a dog and pony show, you know."
it's meant to be a jab, a taunt. throwing peeta's own words back in his face to throw him off and maybe turn his grin a little more genuine and a little less guileful. yet all it does is seem to cause his lips to twitch ever deeper, carve their way up to the dimple in his cheek.
"i know what they're admiring, and it isn't your canvas."
he side steps you, picks your brush back up and in one swift motion tosses it behind him in such a way it looks like a mere accidental dropping. an accident, that seems to have splattered the red stain directly on that of a capital patron who is positioned a little closer than you thought they were allowed to be to the.. entertainment.
eyes slightly widened, there is no denying the skip of your heart now as peeta's lip brush against the shell of your ear. "you belong in a gallery all of my own. a stunning, private collection," he whispers.
then with no more than an innocent kiss to your temple and a squeeze to your hip, he's gone. rushing to retrieve your brush and usher out apologies through his golden boy personage, his charm winning as it always does in favor of the capitol. and you are left dazed, wanting nothing more than to shrink into your skin. not because of the peering and prying eyes of the entire nation; but because of the yearning and burning eyes of your lover.
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soupbtch · 1 month
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Ed notices Stede tucking flowers through his powdered wig in the captain’s cabin as they get ready together. He grows quietly fascinated watching Stede’s fingers as they sort through the flowers scattered on the desk, picking the smallest, brightest ones to loop gently into his wig. He’s never seen anyone handle anything so delicately before.
He steps closer, and Stede looks up and asks, “Would you like some in your hair, as well?”
Ed’s eyes widen at the question before he remembers he’s not attending the party tonight as Blackbeard. He can be anyone he wants. He can be someone who wears flowers in his hair. He might even like it.
“Yeah, sure,” he huffs in a small voice, and Stede gestures for him to take a seat.
Stede reaches around to pluck a flower from the pile. “May I?”
In the past, Ed has never liked people touching his hair; and though he barely knows Stede, he finds himself trusting him anyway.
Stede begins gently placing flowers in Ed’s hair, weaving the stems through his waves. No one has ever touched Ed so tenderly, with such great care as if he were reverent and beautiful and delicate. He feels himself melting into the soft press of Stede’s fingertips against his scalp.
“There,” Stede says quietly. “Go have a look.” He doesn’t need to find a mirror to see how he looks – he can read it on Stede’s face.
From then on, trusting Stede becomes an easier decision to make. Then something natural and instinctual, like breathing. Ed trusts Stede again later that night as he slips the red silk from his fingers, and once more a few days later when he asks Stede to run him through on the deck of the ship. Inhale. He trusts Stede with the next ten years of his life. And still, as he waits at dawn with his feet dangling over the edge of the dock. Exhale.
His vision tunnels. He’s cold. Suffocating.
“Like treading water,” Ed had said a lifetime ago. “Waiting to drown.”
Miraculously, he breaks through the surface. He has to force the air back into his lungs, will them to deflate and hope his body remembers how to fill them back up again.
“Breathing the same air,” Stede says to him. And it’s painful, and he hiccups and chokes, but slowly, gradually, it gets easier. He whispers his goodbye to Blackbeard as Stede lays him gently down on the bed. But his breathing is still jagged, irregular; one step forward before stumbling back.
He’s sputtering on salt water again when he finds a letter in a bottle. He finds the man who wrote it. He’s wielding a sword, and Ed trusts he won’t get gutted this time as he sprints towards him from across the beach. He inhales automatically as they intertwine, pressing their promises to each other's lips.
“Almost ready? Want me to put the flowers in your hair?” Frenchie asks.
“No thanks,” Ed exhales. “It may be our wedding day, but I trust Stede will be here any second now to do it himself.”
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