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#melody's current thoughts
melancholymegumi · 3 months
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melody's current thoughts .. 💭
pussy inspection w rayne & orter..
warnings : mean dom!rayne & orter , degradation (slut , whore) , pet names (bunny , princess) , lowkey ddlg undertones if you squint , daddy kink , reader gets ignored by rayne & orter , age isn't mentioned but all characters are adults. (Rayne is 20 , orter is 24 , reader is 19) , lance is mentioned , this is probably less than 100 words. minors, do not interact.
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god, this is so annoying. They talk like you were basically non-existent. "Was she bad this week? pussy's throbbing like a slut." you were squirming, again. They talk like you're not even there. It's like you're nonexistent.
"of course she fucking was. rubbing herself against the pretty boy from Adler today. I left her with him for a while, only to find her pushing her tits against his arm like a fucking whore. The princess doesn't mind her manner apparently." "no I didn't! daddy's lying—" he pinched your clit. God , that insufferable and scary look he had on whenever he's fucking pissed. The look that made everyone shut the fuck up.
"I didn't know that we gave you the permission to talk, bunny. Now stop fucking squirming before we tie you up again."
god, you fucking hate them. but, atleast it's better than 2 weeks of not sitting flat on your ass and having everything taken away. or is it?
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cuppajj · 2 years
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If I had a nickel for every time I made an au for humor purposes that turned into a narrative that explores the story and characters in depth, I’d have two nickels! Which isn’t a lot but it’s strange it happened twice
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moon-girrl · 2 years
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just.
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halflingkima · 2 months
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funny that as a teen who only thought of childbirth in a political context (feminism, pro-choice, etc) my problem w mft!who was the handling of amy as a (female) character in her relationship with rory, and my breaking point was her leaving him because of her infertility rather than actually talking to him.
while i still have beef with how amy's portrayed/written in general, as an adult, i actually don't mind the infertility plot at all, especially because it's not dragged out.
what does piss me off, way more than anything did the first time around, is literally everything about the melody plotline. amy spends days, weeks, months? with her newborn child. who is then stolen from her. rory meets melody, holds her in his arms, cries over her. she is then stolen from him. (by bad people!! not a part of my point, but this isn't a noble sacrifice thing, she's kidnapped by! the! bad! guys!!)
and simply because river tells them what happens, they do not look for her. they do not tear the galaxy apart. they simply accept their child was stolen from them. they'll see her later. when she's an adult. anyway, business as usual, tardis travel, ta ta.
unreal. inconceivable.
this is my version of justin mcelroy's wandavision rant. Amy and Rory are not terrified and traumatized by alien baby; Amy and Rory want and love their daughter from the (surprise) moment she is born. There is no force in the universe (especially the doctor who universe) that would (should) prevent them from spending the rest of their lives trying to get her back if that's what it takes.
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slytherinslut0 · 5 months
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
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info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
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Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
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suncoved · 3 months
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RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?
prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”
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you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.
kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.
but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.
you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.
sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.
but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.
you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.
and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.
you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.
beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.
"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.
you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.
"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."
your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.
he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.
you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.
you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"
your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.
"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.
you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.
you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.
honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.
though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.
he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.
it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.
there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.
yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.
"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.
he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"
you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.
"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.
"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.
you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.
you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.
he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.
you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.
your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.
rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.
he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.
"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.
"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.
"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.
it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.
"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.
a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.
rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.
you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.
you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.
"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.
"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.
"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.
"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.
"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.
rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.
“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"
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Text
We loved Disney Channel.
Once I hit the subscribe to all buttons
You took the mouseketeers and turned them into some blasphemous pop star sensations.
The Australian aboriginal
What type are we? Heh.
All of then
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riki-dazed · 24 days
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Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1
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3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792
"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.
The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.
Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.
Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.
Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...
"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"
You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.
He smells good, too.
"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.
"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.
You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.
Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...
"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.
Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.
Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...
Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.
As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.
"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..
Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.
You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.
"Best friends can kiss, right?"
Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.
1K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 1 month
Text
A Girl with No Name
A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice. 
Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that? 
CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI
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‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’
Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way. 
Silk.
Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.  
‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’ 
Euphoria. 
Who chose the lights?
They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.
“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens. 
“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong. 
“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good. 
“Plus, I’m bigger than you.” 
“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated. 
In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen. 
One, he’s currently tripping balls. 
Two, you just walked in. 
Like you own the house. 
Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir. 
The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert. 
But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God. 
Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert. 
Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met. 
They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both. 
“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.” 
Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers. 
Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you. 
Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile. 
Cavalier and gorgeous.
Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in. 
The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking. 
The cure for everything. 
And right now? It is. The cure.
Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground. 
Speak, dumbass.
“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert. 
Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.
You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.
Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain. 
“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?” 
Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer. 
Are you doing this on purpose? 
Are you trying to be a cocktease? 
Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you. 
Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly. 
“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand. 
Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet? 
“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice. 
Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot. 
“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.
…what else can that throat handle? 
“Okay, good time girl wh—“ 
“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting. 
“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.
“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.
“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.” 
The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.
Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night. 
“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you. 
“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work. 
“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face. 
Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.
Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted? 
 “Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply. 
Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is. 
“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.
Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now? 
“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up. 
Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones. 
“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick. 
“And Lightening.” 
Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.
And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you. 
“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view. 
“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists. 
Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately. 
“No name.” 
Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal. 
“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth. 
You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.
Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs. 
“Not here to talk, boys!” 
The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds. 
But time is warped.
Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean. 
You are the 8th cardinal sin. 
You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you. 
Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation. 
But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.
You are not a want. 
You are a need. 
“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze. 
Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes. 
“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web. 
And he is so captured. So entangled. 
The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.
Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth. 
Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.
“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses. 
And you’re right. 
It’s embarrassing, their display right now. 
But neither one of them have the capacity to stop. 
And hold it together. 
And lead. Like they both are used to. 
“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains. 
You know Satoru is so far gone. 
And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need. 
“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems. 
As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers. 
Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking. 
Your personal drones. 
Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.
“God, pretty girl.”
“Fuck, princess.”
Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat. 
Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.
“Please,” Suguru whispers.
You’re evil. 
And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful. 
“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart. 
Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction. 
“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss. 
Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him. 
The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.
Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend. 
“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations. 
“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth. 
Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin. 
And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight. 
“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length. 
“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head. 
He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck. 
No, no. 
The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck. 
Is he hallucinating?
It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time. 
Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men. 
Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame. 
Seeking permission.
Seeking approval. 
He is otherworldly. 
Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips. 
But..but that’s wrong. Right? 
They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that. 
But the way he’s pouting.
God. 
Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand. 
Fuck. 
“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response. 
Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes. 
Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces. 
“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat. 
Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between. 
Filthy. 
Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.
You two exploring each other’s lips. 
Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand. 
It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 
“Such a good boy.” 
Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him. 
It was directed at Satoru. 
Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth. 
“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat. 
“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery. 
“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.” 
Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat. 
“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair. 
When did you get next to him?
Doesn’t matter. 
Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth. 
The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.
“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“
“Cum for me, baby.” 
You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut. 
Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.
You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.  
“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin. 
His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close. 
“Woah, what the hell?” 
Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.
“What do you—“
“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison. 
You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock. 
Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand. 
“These are for your eyes only.” 
“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both. 
Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it. 
Suguru would too. 
“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move. 
“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.” 
His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip. 
You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets. 
“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night. 
You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go. 
And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat. 
His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less. 
One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth. 
Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon. 
“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length. 
Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat. 
You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk. 
“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.” 
“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin. 
He’s so close. He’s—
“S-Suguru.”
And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half. 
Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between. 
“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively. 
A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension. 
You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side. 
Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth. 
Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him. 
The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss. 
No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep. 
                                     ——
Sunlight is downright offensive. 
Suguru forces his heavy lids open.
7: 43 AM
Fucking, hell. 
A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed. 
Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats
There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept. 
Right.
You. 
Heaven’s fallen angel. 
You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.
Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress. 
Snapping polaroids.
Taking their souls for play. 
Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.
Suguru met The Devil last night. 
And she was…exquisite. 
“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.
Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches. 
How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?
“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru. 
Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face. 
“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip. 
Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof. 
Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand. 
The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo. 
His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:
Thunder 
Alias: “Suguru”
A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru. 
The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent. 
He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy. 
Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:
Lightening
Alias: “Satoru”
“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.
“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view. 
And of course.
It’s blurry. 
The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette. 
“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind. 
Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:
No Name
A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.
You are something else. 
Supernatural, almost.
“She’s a girl with no name.” 
1K notes · View notes
luvjunie · 10 months
Text
— sleepover
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pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader
contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual
summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630
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New york. The city that never sleeps.
The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.
And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.
After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.
Fun, right?
Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.
The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.
Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.
You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.
But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.
“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.
Silence.
He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.
“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”
You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”
“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.
A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.
“Yes, Miles?”
“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.
You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”
“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.
“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.
He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.
“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”
He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.
“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.
Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“
“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”
He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.
“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.
He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.
A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.
“What are you—?”
He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.
“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.
Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.
“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.
“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.
“I love you, Miles.”
— extra scene
Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.
Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.
“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.
“Ow!”
Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.
Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗
7K notes · View notes
melancholymegumi · 3 months
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melody’s current thoughts..💭
eraserdust ddlg/ddlb :((
warnings; ddlg/ddlb (?), yandere, tomura still doesn't accept the fact that he's under shota , reader was caught masturbating, spanking , idk what else
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yes, eraserdust but instead of switch reader why not make reader and tomura a sub? you being the hyperactive one, jumping around and running around, almost always bent over his lap.
Meanwhile, Tomura thinks you're absolutely ridiculous. Of course he's not shocked that you were getting cuddled by Shouta again. After taking 20 spanks for breaking a vase.
Other than that, Tomura doesn't think that Aizawa should have control over him. Who is he to order him around? Why does he babytalk so much? It's annoying. Well, that was until he found out that he needed to get permission to even jerk off.
“And I thought you're supposed to be a good girl this week. Really?” your face went pale. What's he doing at home? Wasn't he supposed to be outside with your daddy? “I- I am! don't tell daddy please..” “Fine, but what's in it for me?”
God, he's gonna have so much fun with you.
“I’ll..give you a blowjob..?” “why would I want an impatient whore on my dick? Seriously, you'd rather have a plushie against your cunt than a dick?” he scoffed out, rolling his eyes and fidgeting with his phone that show your daddy’s number on speedial. “I'll do your chores too! please please please tomura, don't tell daddy?”
“Twenty bucks and I'll get to fuck your ass.” “deal.”
Well, I mean now you're both in trouble at least. He knows you're fucked as soon as the car pulled into the driveway anyways.
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taglist : @honeybunnxo @adoresizuku @dcsiremc @notalwaysa . +(Some of these tags don't work, so please check your tagging settings.)
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ellemj · 4 months
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Wear That Again: 12 Days of Smut #7
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
This fic was inspired by two things:
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Ha16Rj/ this Tiktok edit by @the.stark.internship ( @thestarkinternship on Tumblr)
@littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty drawing which can be found on her blog, I've stared at it since yesterday and I'm still not over it.
Summary: Bucky ruins your brief holiday romance with a SHIELD agent out of jealousy. You'd think storming in and yelling at the super soldier would've ended in an argument and some slamming doors, but that's not what happens at all.
Warnings: profanity, some objectifying thoughts, possessive!Bucky, jealous!Bucky, thigh riding, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I don't know how tf it's happening but y'all have me averaging 1.2k notes per day on my blog for the last couple of days and it feels surreal. Also I just want to say, I wrote Bucky out-of-character for this one-shot and this is not how I imagine he'd be at all, but it was fun to write hehe.
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            “You little fucking shit.” You finally snap as the elevator doors are opening to let you out into the common living area of the tower. “Bucky, you are such an asshole.” You’re absolutely livid, and if your words hadn’t showed that then your actions sure would’ve. You’re slamming your hands down on the kitchen island before the elevator doors have even fully closed. Bucky sits on a barstool with a near straight face, completely unaffected by your rage and only briefly looking up at you as he chews through a bite of his Chinese takeout. “You’re the reason he stood me up, aren’t you? What the hell did you do this time?”
            “Wear that outfit again.”
            You’re silent for the longest moment yet, at least fifteen seconds, and Bucky thinks it might be a new record for you. He hasn’t paid attention to a damn thing you’ve said since you walked in, but he sure as hell paid attention to what you chose to wear tonight. You were supposed to be going on your third date with a SHIELD agent who crossed your path a number of times professionally before finally asking you out two weeks ago, and with it being just six days until Christmas, you were dressing for the occasion tonight. You’re wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater that’s tucked neatly into the tiniest holiday-themed miniskirt you could find. It's a sort of festively-colored tight plaid skirt that barely covers a thing, but you didn’t wear it for any reason other than to encourage your date to rip it off of you later. However, Bucky made sure the poor guy wouldn’t even get the chance to see the damn thing.
            “What did you just say to me?” Your voice is shaking but not with fear, no. It’s shaking with the sheer amount of anger that’s currently eating you alive. Bucky lifts his gaze to meet yours as he sets his chopsticks down and picks up his half-empty beer bottle from the countertop. Letting his eyes roam over the entirety of your figure that isn’t obscured by the kitchen island, he boldly repeats himself.
            “Wear that again.”
            “If you like it, I’m burning it.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at the man before you. Bucky lets out a low laugh now, the sound is melodious but his gaze hardens and narrows as he focuses in on your face.
            “If I like it?” All he can think about is pushing you up against a wall, lifting the back of that tiny little piece of fabric you call a skirt, and fucking you until Christmas morning. If he likes it? Hell, he fucking loves it.
            “That’s it, I’m burning it.” You’ve had enough. First, he ruins your short-lived holiday romance. Then, he has the audacity to act like your outfit is doing something for him. As you said before, he’s a little fucking shit. You shoot him one last passing glare as you move around the island and start heading toward the hallway, ready to lock yourself in your room and plot his demise for the rest of the night. But Bucky just can’t let you have the last word, and he sure as hell can’t let you walk away from him looking like something that belongs under the Christmas tree. Or more accurately, something that belongs under him.
            The two of you have done this dance so many times that you aren’t even surprised when you hear his barstool slide away from the island seconds before you feel a firm hand gripping your forearm and yanking you backward. You’re not surprised when suddenly, your front is pushed roughly against the wall of the hallway and his lips graze over the shell of your ear. Frustratingly, you’re not even a little bit surprised when you feel heat rushing through your body and settling between your legs.
            “You’ll wear that outfit again, when I tell you to.” Bucky’s tone is so much less indifferent than it was only a moment ago. It’s so full of lust that it leaves you trembling, awaiting whatever his next move may be. He knows no one else is in the tower tonight, which means if he wanted to, he could take you right here in the hallway and not feel an ounce of guilt over it. Who’s he kidding? He’s done that before even with everyone in the tower, and guilt sure wasn’t the feeling he felt afterward. But he wants you in his room tonight. You and that fucking skirt.
            Bucky takes your silence as obedience and steps away from you, letting you push yourself off of the wall and turn around to face him. If you’re being honest, you’re a little disappointed. That’s all he wants from you tonight?
            “How long has it been since the last time we had sex?” Bucky questions. He knows you remember, probably down to they very hour. He remembers, but he has to make sure you do too.
            “Two weeks.” You haven’t slept with Bucky since the SHIELD agent asked you out. Bucky mulls over the length of time in his mind. He wants to remedy that, he wants to fuck you tonight, but he won’t. You started seeing someone and threw Bucky to the side so easily that him waiting two weeks to ruin your dating life was the nicest possible thing he could’ve done in retaliation. He’s not going to give you what you need now, at least not everything you need.
            Bucky’s silent as he pushes open his bedroom door and waits for you to step inside before him. He’s still silent as he sits on the edge of the bed and beckons you to stand between his legs. He begins raking his hands up the outsides of your thighs, sliding them underneath your skirt until he feels the waistband of your sheer tights. He isn’t so silent when he begins sliding those down your legs, letting out a soft groan when his hands meet your bare skin underneath. It’s been too fucking long since he’s touched you and an unfamiliar peace settles in his soul when he feels your warmth. You’re expecting him to rip the tights off, followed by the skirt and everything else you’re wearing. However, Bucky’s plan involves keeping you nearly fully clothed, and only partially satisfied. Once he has your heels and tights on his bedroom floor, he kneads your ass underneath your skirt, letting his fingertips brush over the fabric of your thong. God, he’s really practicing his restraint tonight. His cock is already hard, threatening to rip the seam of his pants with even the slightest movement, but he isn’t planning on getting his own fix tonight.
            “Sit.” He commands, gripping your hips with both hands and pulling you down to straddle one of his thighs. As soon as your clothed core makes contact with the toned muscle of his thigh, you stiffen and try to shift your weight so you won’t be so stimulated. Bucky makes an annoyed face at you before slipping one hand back underneath your skirt and drawing your panties to the side, causing your wet clit to press against the fabric of his pants. “I’m not rewarding you for spending your time with some other guy for the last two weeks, I’m not having sex with you.”
            You’re about to protest, to tell Bucky that he’s being sensitive, that the two of you never had any rules about dating, but Bucky senses your opposition and begins dragging you back and forth over his thigh. He looks down between the two of you as a wet spot quickly begins forming where your pussy meets his clothed leg. Fuck. It feels too good for you to even consider stopping and telling him that he’s an asshole. So, you go along with his guiding movements, grinding against his leg and finding just the right amount of pressure and friction to start heading toward an orgasm.
            “You didn’t have to scare the guy off.” You mutter as you lean forward, letting your hands rest on Bucky’s shoulder as you place a gentle kiss against the side of his neck. He sighs and tilts his head to the side to give you better access, but his hands continue to guide the movement of your hips.
            “Three dates were enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore.” He admits. You feel an odd sense of pride surge through you at his words, though you have no idea if he’s being honest or not. “I couldn’t let him have you like this.” You suck on the skin just beneath Bucky’s left ear and pick up the pace with which you’re grinding on his thigh.
            “Fuck, James.”
            Bucky knows this isn’t the right time for the conversation, so as you grind out an orgasm on his thigh, letting out the most heavenly moans and whimpers just for him, he tells himself to hold it together until Christmas. That’s when he’ll tell you. That’s when he’ll tell you that he wants more than the angry, hateful late-night rendezvous in his room or yours. He wants more than sitting around waiting for you to come home from a date while he nearly goes insane with jealousy. He wants more of you. Fuck, he wants all of you.
            Just as you’re coming undone on his thigh while moaning his name and squeezing his shoulders, he lets his hands snake underneath your little plaid skirt. He grips your ass with both hands, digging his fingertips into the supple skin there as he leans into your neck. You feel him take a deep breath in as you’re coming down from your orgasm high.
            “Why do you always smell so fucking good?” He asks, licking a small stripe up the side of your neck before pressing his lips against it in a soft kiss. You only hum lightly in response, your brain not quite ready to formulate a full sentence. Bucky presses a second kiss to your neck, and then a third as his works his way up to your lips. His hands move to smooth over the fabric of that little skirt that he can’t seem to get over. “Stay away from the fireplace this week. I can’t have you burning this skirt.”
TAG LIST: @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme @missadored
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lilhwahwa · 4 months
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ATEEZ Reaction: You can't fall asleep (MATZ. ver)
★|•°∵ Scenario: Your boyfriend reacts to you not being able to fall asleep.
★|•°∵ Idolbf!matz x nonidol!reader
{PICS NOT MINE / FROM PINTEREST}
MASTERLIST
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Hongjoong
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Hongjoong wasn't expecting you to answer his message at this hour. He never really did. The good night messages with information about his well being was at this point nothing more than an automatic thing he'd do to remind you he was alive and well, even when buried in his dark studio, far away from the warm bed you were probably sleeping in.
Goosebumps spread over his skin at the thought of relaxing deep into your soft mattress. The scent of your detergent on your sheets would almost always knock him out, with the help of your warm body pressed to his of course. The company had been nice with letting him come over to your place, merely warning him to be cautious when staying over and thus far you hadn't gotten caught.
But the past few months had been more than hectic. With continuous trips in and out of Korea and a comeback, the only piece of your boyfriend that you got during this time was a text message or on rare occasions a video call. You knew of course, getting into the relationship what it would mean, but it is easier said than done. Once you got to have him in your bed, the greed inside you would never again let any sleep satisfy you unless you had him by your side and thus you developed irregular sleeping patterns.
The second Hongjoong sees the delivered receipt turn into read, his eyebrows furrowed. Had he woken you up?
"That's so cute:( I'm still awake though" you'd write.
You knew how he struggled with expressing his emotions sometimes and him having the safety of you being asleep somewhat eased his anxiety when sending you the good night texts. Tonight you were wide awake though.
"You're not asleep?"
"Nope..."
"Can I call?"
But before he could, you were already reaching to dial his number on video call.
When he picked up you were met with a barefaced Hongjoong, sitting back in his studio chair with an oversized shirt on. He smiles softly when he sees your poorly lit face in the darkness of your bedroom, making the large frames on his face shift. The only thing lighting your side of the call up was your phone screen.
"Can't sleep, baby?" he asks knowingly, looking over the way your eyes only managed to open half way, heavy with exhaustion yet your brain couldn't seem to shut off.
"Mhm" you hum, pouting slightly and although Hongjoong couldn't see it, he knew your every expression.
"Want to work with me?" he asked already knowing the answer, finding something to lean his phone against as he positioned the camera so you could see him well. The studio was dimly lit, giving Hongjoong's skin a soft glow. How you wish you'd be with him, even just sitting on the hard-cushioned couch in the corner of his studio would be enough. Maybe he'd let you sit on his lap if you complained about the couch hard enough. You sigh and imagine how warm his skin would be if he was sleeping next to you. Watching his eyes flicker to the computer you adjust your position, putting your phone against the pillow he would usually have if he was to sleep over.
He knows not to keep you talking, it would only disturb your sleep more. Instead he talks to himself in a soft voice as he tells you about what audio he needed for the section he was currently working on or randomly tell you something a member said. He didn’t expect an answer, your presence was good enough. The sound of his mouse clicking on multiple samples and his voice humming a melody he wanted to create soon became a soothing song for you to fall asleep to.
Even after you'd finally fall asleep, Hongjoong kept the video call on, glancing your direction here and there as an encouragement to finish work faster so he could get a day or two free for you.
Seonghwa
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When your boyfriend invited you to sleep over for the first time, you were initially excited to finally spend such close time together. You had been dating for just over a month but with him having tight schedules you could never really catch him on a date. The thought of not ending your day together with a chaste kiss and goodbye made your cheeks warm up.
Your first concerns were whether he'd like the way you looked without makeup. What if you woke up with bad morning breath and messy hair? Would the food you ate on your date make you bloated and uncomfortable when you cuddle? He would want to cuddle...right?
All of your concerns were valid. It was after all your first time in this territory with Seonghwa. But you had forgotten one not so little detail of concern. You usually struggle with going to sleep. Normally it wouldn't be too bad. The energy left over from the day and your habit of procrastinating were the main culprits. But what you had not taken into account was just how nervous you were spending a night with Seonghwa. After he proudly got his own room and decorated it to his liking, he was eager to invite you. It had taken some time ot convince his housemates, seeing as you still weren't that familiar with them. Having a stranger, even if you were Seonghwa's girlfriend, in their home would probably mean they couldn't be fully comfortable.
After they finally agreed, Seonghwa softly began encouraging you to sleep over, never pushing you in case you didn't want to. He'd just send cute Tiktok's of fort building tutorials or cute couples wearing matching pyjamas.
That's how you ended up in Seonghwa's bed. It was not really made for two people but it only gave you the excuse to lay closer to him. Your eyes were trained on the movie playing on the computer in his lap. You were more comfortable than you thought you'd be, eyes growing heavier as the soft fabric of Seonghwa's hoodie comforted your cheek. It was soft and smelled clean, like him.
Seonghwa took notice of your sleepiness and assumed you were seconds form falling asleep. He smiled to himself, biting his lip as he admired the sight for a few seconds. He decided to stop the movie for now, switching to browsing his phone with your head comfortably on his shoulder. He shifted you both lower to lay down and you immediately open your eyes, snapping out of the short moment. The second your eyes open you feel a shock go through your body. It is as if somebody put eye drops in your eyes because they were wide awake and not clouding over with sleep. Seonghwa felt you jerk and looked over.
"Shh, go back to sleep" he hummed, reaching his hand over to stroke you hair, thinking it'd do the trick.
You sigh and turn onto your side, burying yourself deeper into his sweatshirt as you force your eyes shut. You did feel tired, but why is it your mind was suddenly running over a million thoughts. Was he comfortable? Did your hair smell good enough? Did he think your first sleep over was disappointing? You hadn't noticed how your body stiffened but Seonghwa had felt it. He put his phone down and looked down at you.
"You're not sleeping?" he whispered, just in case you were. You open your eyes when he addresses you and look up at him shyly, shaking your head.
"I always struggle a little with sleep and just us-" you want to tell him you were nervous, but would it sound stupid? You weren't a kid and should be able to tell him. But was the reason good enough?
"I get it, it's a new setting and this is first time for us. But it's just me, don't worry" Seonghwa hummed, putting his phone away to turn to his side and let you move into his embrace. His hand snaked over your back to stroke it gently, looking down at you with sleepy eyes. He hadn't noticed how sleepy he had gotten either.
"I am happy you're here with me, I'm happy to be like this with you" he reassures with a whisper. You didn't know how he always expressed himself easily but you're thankful for it in this moment, hiding your face away into his neck out of shyness. A familiar warm chuckle left Seonghwa as his hand tapped your back.
"Just let your head empty of thoughts, I'll be here to hold you" he murmured, closing his own eyes as his hand continued drawing figures on your back to soothe you. "I could always talk to you about star wars or something, I'm sure that'd make you fall asleep" he teased himself, which made you chuckle sleepily, already feeling how his warmth and comfort was lulling you.
And when you thought you could answer him, your lips never managed to move. The sentence full of gratitude for him stayed in your thoughts as you finally fell asleep, Seonghwa following closely behind you.
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empress-simps · 12 days
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Foolish Heart
Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader CW: James being oblivious to reader’s feelings, Sirius teasing, and as always- language. (1.7k words) Summary: You’ve had the biggest crush on James ever since you can remember, so imagine how hard it is to see your best friend since diapers pine over Lily Evans. The other Marauders decided to make James realize who he truly likes all along.
Note: I was listening to Hozier’s (my love) “Almost (Sweet Music)” When I suddenly thought of this idea randomly, soooooo yeah, enjoy! My updates might be slower now since I have school, but my requests/asks are still open if anyone wants to talk to me! I'd still be active on Tumblr : )
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Be still, my foolish heart. Don’t ruin this on me.
It was your mantra, every time you saw James. Everything he did was perfect in your eyes; the way he hummed, eyes twinkling as he thought of a plan on how to execute their pranks, down to the way he laughed. It was heavenly, dancing around the air, lingering- as if a beautiful melody waiting to be heard by you.
And yet, you were a silent audience, watching from a far distance as he basks in the glow of Lily Evans.
Lily. The name itself was a symphony, a haunting refrain that echoed in the back of your mind. She was everything you weren’t, couldn’t be—confident, radiant, and effortlessly captivating. Her hair, a cascade of fiery red, framed her face like a halo. And James? Well, he was her devoted troubadour, strumming his heartstrings to the rhythm of her laughter.
He was hypnotized by Lily’s glow; and you were fixed on his warmth. His laughter was like sunlight filtering through leaves, warming the coldest corners of your aching and bitter heart. You wondered if he knew the ache of unrequited love—the way it makes you feel like you’re drowning in heartache, making you gasp for air.
You’d known James since you were in nappies, a strong bond forming from cheeky smiles, little adventures, empty promises, bruised knees, and grass-stained bottoms. Childhood friends; both of you are inseparable. But, unknowingly to the bespectacled boy, you slowly saw him in a different light, making you crave more about what your current relationship with him is.
James was the sun, and you were the moon—forever caught in his orbit, but never close enough to touch.
You watched as he stumbled over his words, trying to impress Lily with Quidditch tales and his pranks. And you? You were the silent observer, scribbling poems in the margins of your potions textbook.
As you settled in your usual seat next to James in the great hall, Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint evident in his eyes. “Sit beside me, pretty girl!”  He pulled you next to him, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he grabbed an apple and handed it to you. “Good morning to you too, Paddie.” You rolled your eyes playfully, obliging and sitting next to the long-haired boy and grabbing your favorite fruit from his grasp.
Remus, the ever observant one out of the group knowingly looks at Sirius as if to say, ‘I know what you’re doing’. Peter only mumbled a ‘good morning’ before going back to shoving his breakfast in his mouth, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension.
James frowned; he didn’t like the change. Not. One. Bit.
This was new- you not sitting beside him? Can someone pinch him right now since the sod thinks he might be dreaming.
James kept his mouth shut, although he couldn’t help but glance every now and then at you and Sirius chatting across the table, sporting a frown as he stabbed the eggs with a rather excessive force before showing the food on his mouth. Of course, his actions didn’t go unnoticed in the eyes of Sirius Black.
“Something wrong, Prongs?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face as he leaned in. Never once did James think he would like to see Sirius’ smirk wiped off his face.
“Y/n sits beside me.” His jaw clenched.
You tried your best to act nonchalantly, fighting off the blush forming in your cheeks as you felt the all too familiar butterflies in your stomach.
Ah, the heartache in those words—the unspoken longing. Remus had seen it before, masked behind his bravado. James Potter, the mischief-maker, the Quidditch star, the one who chased after Lily Evans with unwavering determination. But the werewolf knew better. He saw the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. The way his laughter softened when you were near. The way he defended you even when you didn’t need defending.
“So? Make Red sit beside you or something.” Sirius raised a brow. You looked at Sirius with a confused look on your face, just what was up with him today?
Red. Lily Evans. The one who James practically confesses his undying love for every week. You know damn well you were not Red, and that you will never be Red.
You were Y/n- the one who held his hand when he was scared of the dark, who followed him on little adventures throughout Potter Manor when you were kids, and the one who exchanged secrets with him with hushed whispers under the moonlit skies.
But being the sod he is, he did. He had hurt you again without even knowing as he invited Lily next to him.
It went on for several weeks, each passing day hurt more than the last. It seemed like he was slowly becoming out of your reach, but Sirius was there, offering you support, and secretly trying to make James realize that he’d been hopelessly in love with you ever since the beginning of time.
The unspoken tension between you grew thicker. Sirius and the others watched, amused and exasperated. Remus, the wise one, shared knowing glances with you. Peter, ever loyal, tried to be mediator between James’s heart and his head.
Then it finally happened, James couldn’t handle it anymore. He cracked.
You were the fresh air he takes in, the anchor that keeps him still, a constant presence in his life. James Potter knew it would hurt if you weren’t by his side, but Merlin- he didn’t know it would hurt this much. He wants you- he needs you.
One stormy night in the Gryffindor Common room was the time he decided to tell you what’s going on in his mind. It was the perfect timing, really. Only him, you and the other Marauders were present in the room, the other students already headed to the dorms, as it was almost curfew.
James sighed, finally standing, and walking towards your direction, his eyes were vulnerable. “Y/n,” he began, voice trembling as he stumbles over his words. “I’ve been an idiot.”
You hummed in agreement, trying to look busy as you reread the last sentence over and over in the page of your book, “That’s not new, Potter.”
“Lily—she’s not the one I want. It’s always been you.”
It felt like the whole world stopped, the fire that was roaring suddenly stilled, your friends sat silently, frozen in shock.  All you can hear is your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
James’ gaze bore into yours, his eyes searching for a response. His hand trembled where it reached for yours, holding it tightly, fearing you'd pull away from his touch.
“James, what? If this is some kind of ploy to play with me-“
“Y/n,” he said, his voice raw, “I’ve loved you since we were kids. I was a bloody fool to deny it every time I see you."
“James,” you whispered, your throat tight, “what about Lily?”
He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he chuckled lightly "Evans had noticed it even before I did. Said I was a knobhead for not realizing sooner." he said.
James’s gaze softened.  “You’re the girl who followed me on little adventures, who defended me during Quidditch matches, who knows my deepest fears and silliest dreams. I was fucking terrified to ruin our friendship just because I saw you more than my best friend.”
Biting your lip, you felt the all-too-familiar tears pricking your eyes. His confession made your insides warm, fuzzy, and light. You never told him how you truly felt- keeping it to yourself as you watched him chase after Lily, being supportive of him even though it kills you inside. You could deal with that; you’d be happy as long as James would be happy. Even if it’s with Lily.
Although, he was here, in front of you. Telling you that he also loves you, that he hadn’t realized it until years after.
“James, you were never just a best friend to me.” You whispered, “I was scared- terrified that you would never see me in the way that I saw you. I didn’t tell you because I would rather love you in the sidelines rather than lose you altogether.”
James’ eyes softened, he leaned closer to you; his forehead touching yours, his breath fanning your lips as he smiled softly. “I wouldn’t let you do that now, you’d be in the center of my life, where you belong.”
He placed his hand gently on your back, pulling you closer to him. “Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We already did that for most of our years already.” James didn’t wait for you to reply when he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your face gently.
Neither of you heard your friends cheering, the fire crackling, or the rain tapping out your window.
In that moment, it felt as if you and James were the only ones in the world, you were in your own little bubble of happiness. Both of you had foolish hearts, and it had finally found each other after years and years of looking.
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slutforalastor · 19 days
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you never thought this day might come, sat down with the Radio Demon's head in your lap, his gaze lazy and half-lidded as he allows you, generously, so generously, to touch the pronged antlers that extend from the top of his head. His lips pass soft white noise as you run a finger from the base to the tip of his antlers, the vibration that you can feel beneath the hard exterior somewhere between the hum of a domestic appliance and the throb, throb, throb of a heartbeat
You can feel Alastor's shoulders tense up whenever you put too much pressure on them, his calm breathing briefly interrupted every time you push his sensitivity past his tolerance. Each time you find yourself being too exploratory, you correct yourself back to the safety of gentle strokes, letting your fingertips soak in the unique texture. They are somewhere between the firm smoothness of exposed bone, like his teeth when they drag across the topmost layer of your skin, leaving perfect streaks too shallow to bleed, too pronounced to refute their creator, and the spongy give of delicate flesh. You know the trust he's imparted to you to be given this kind of access; not only does he so limit incoming touch, but resents any reminder of his reincarnation as a prey animal.
"I'm surprised you're okay with this," you murmur to him, so unwilling to compromise the sanctity of this moment.
"Only because it is you," Alastor assures you, his tone just as hushed.
You continue, relishing in this opportunity. You explore every hook and divot of the black extensions, marveling at the current of demonic energy that pulses through them. It was your impression that they only grew when Alastor was angry, but not quite: any overwhelming passion, be it joy, theoretically speaking, or fear, or sadness, and they will billow out. You wonder if you can elicit such a response. Your opening gambit is strong: you lean into his ear, whispering "If anyone else were to do this, you'd tear them apart, wouldn't you?"
"For even less than this, dearest. I'd assumed that was obvious."
"But not me?"
"But not you."
"Maybe I want you to tear me apart, love."
The first sign; you feel a shift through the skeletal system they're connected to, a tremor of recognition, of sudden awoken desire.
"I'm sure you just aren't aware of what you're asking for."
"No, I'm all too aware. You want something deeper, too, don't you? It can't be enough just to meet in such a temporary union, only to separate. I want you to bring a little piece of me along with you, knowing you've claimed more than just one part of me, but any you desire."
He shudders, deeper this time, and you feel growth. Sharp edges and deeper curves sprout like curling ivy where there had once been certain ends, like a blossoming tree bursting into life. Your loving strokes down the length of his antlers grow deeper, more pronounced, almost incessant.
"What game are you playing at?" Alastor pants, his breathing hitching every time you push against them with any kind of firmness.
"I love seeing what you do."
His body has seized, but doesn't do anything else. You can feel the efforts of the sinew across his back against your lap. Best of all are his facial expressions; his initial contentment has evolved, firstly into surprised, the edges of his bladed grin peeking out from his thin lips, his eyes squinted and playful. Now it's become a look of desire, his mouth open slightly, droning a steady song with no melody but a captivating refrain, nonetheless. His eyes plead with you; so uncharacteristic, for him to be putty in your hands. To think you could hold the high ground in any situation, much less as a result of this.
"Don't toy with me," he warns, but his voice doesn't sound assured. It sounds needy, like a request for more.
"I would never, love."
"Then end this teasing," he begs.
You do as he asks, taking your hands away from his antlers. With some strain, he manages to get his breathing back under control, his antlers receding like the retreating tide, back to their typical size. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you wonder, after he's calmed himself.
He looks at you with mischief etched in his features. "Not as much as I'm sure I will soon enough." ~~~
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chisatowo · 2 years
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Ngl I missed having more than one story with feral characters that aren't just normal cats sooooo bad like now that I've relearned how to draw them it's all I wanna draw rjtbrjeh
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