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#sometimes a middle finger is in order
werecreature-addicted · 7 months
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this is really specific but imagine being a Farmer and taking in a Minotaur who was abused and used for fighting. And like he’s bred to be a absolute f**cking tank. im talking like 8’6, scars and muscles, massive strong horns, callused hands etc. Because of the abuse and the fighting he was forced Into all his life he hates all humans, but for some reason he doesn’t want to hurt you. And as the months slowly rolls by he starts to warm up to you to the point he lets you touch him…Just for a little bit though
He is always surprised by your kindness. He's known many humans, and none have ever smiled at him like you do. Or ask him how his day has been. What surprises him most is how you always look him in the eyes when you talk to him. You never bark orders while absentmindedly checking your phone or blatantly examining his muscles while asking him to do labor. You always look him in the eye, or at least you look up. Sometimes it's hard to meet his gaze, especially if the sun is in your eyes and you can't quite make out where his head is. But that little act of respect almost always surprises him. It's almost like you see him as an equal.
You always say please and thank you. Even when he's just doing his job, work is the only reason he's here, yet you act like he's done you a huge favor when he does something as simple as refilling the watering cans. He almost never responds either, He just grunts dismissively. That never seems to bother you. No, nothing as shallow as a bad attitude would darken your sunshine.
It's funny. He's never really "liked" something about a human before. He's respected some of them. He's admired the bravery of the ones stupid enough to step in the ring with him. But he actually likes your positive attitude, and how nice you are... and your smile.
He likes the sunshine. On sunny days when there isn't much work left, you'll often find him lying in the middle of the field, enjoying the sun. He doesn't mind talking about his scars if you want to ask. Though, to be honest. He doesn't remember the details of most of them. It's all the same story anyway. A fight. A lance to the side before the fight to make him mad. A beating after he lost a fight. The individual scars all seem to blur together.
You show him a few of your scars, and you seem to remember the stories better. There's a web of scaring over the back of your hand he's noticed before but never asked about. You tell him you were stringing up a barbed wire fence, and the wire cut your knuckles. It bothers him for some reason. You're so sweet, never having been in a fight, and still you have scars. He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt. He tells you if the fence ever needs repairs he'll do it for you.
You're always careful not to touch him. He flinches if you so much as move too fast, and well... he is an animal, a reactive one at that. You're right to be cautious around him. It doesn't hurt his feelings. He respects you for the space you give him. He does have a sneaking suspicion that you want to touch him.
When he tells you about his past, you'll reach for his hand before pulling away and telling him how sorry you are to hear that. Or when he hands you something, you'll brush your fingers against his, even when you're normally so cautious to not let that happen.
Your eyes land on a piece of hay striking out of his messy hair right by his ear. You point it out but, he can't seem to find it himself. He always just barely misses it. Eventually, he crouches and bows his head low enough for you to reach the top of his head.
"Can you uhm, will you get it for me?" he asks shyly. You nod and easily pull out the hay. you pull away but he stops you.
"Wait- just check for anything else stuck in my hair, please?" he asks. you comply, running your fingers through his hair and checking for any more hay.
He still doesn't like being touched, but it's nice to know that your hands are soft and your touch is as kind and gentle as everything else about you. He wonders if touch could feel good and if you'd be willing to show him.
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sturnsdoll · 9 days
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𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙 -`♡´- - c.s & t.y x reader
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inspired by THIS
pairing: chris x tara x reader.
summary: two of your bestfriends stay over after a party. your friend tara's flirting quickly escalates the night into something much less innocent than a little sleepover.
warnings: smut, threesome, face sitting, dom!chris, switch!tara, sub!reader, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f & m recieving), praise, overstimulation, fingering, no protection (it's fiction. don't be dumb.), probably forgot some sorry!
authors note: omg y'all been on my ass to finish writing thiss <3 i did write and edit this while sleepy so (i really hope not) BUT if there's mistakes or lack of detail i'm really sorry!
"pink" = reader speaking "purple" = tara speaking "orange" = chris speaking
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the time on your phone read 3:04am.
with a sigh you searched your surroundings impatiently. you'd been stood outside on the lawn of this stupid giant house for 4 minutes too long. the dampness on you from light raindroplets coming down just made the experience all the more unpleasent.
the mansion behind you was a mututal friends. inside, music blared so loud that it was seeping out through the windows. despite the absaloutely absurd hour of the night it was still bustling with people inside. sometimes in LA it felt like the parties just never died out. to be fair though, the number had signifincantly decreased from the start of the night when there must have been at least 100 people on the property.
"hey, sorry! i got caught up in yappin while trying to say goodbye to people" tara's familiar voice instantly made your tense shoulders drop. you turned to face her with a smile "it's alright. seen chris around yet?" your eyes scanned behind her to see if he was coming even though you didn't expect him to be. and he wasn't. "maybe we should text him?" tara suggested as she also looked behind her, as if it would make him appear faster. you pulled out your phone to send him a message.
3:07. they were both told to meet out here at 3:00. 7 minutes still wasn't terribly late.
tara's voice took you from your screen "we've been out here freezing, loser" you stop typing your text message to look up at whoever she was talking too. you were met with the sight of chris holding his jacket over his head to block from the rain falling down on him. "my bad, i got lost in the house.." he admitted as he got right up to the two of you and held his jacket out a little further to invite you both beneath it's shelter. "but i already called the uber so it should be here soon." he said re-assuringly. you both stepped beneath the coverage of his jacket. it didn't completely block the rain but it was something.
tara was staying over tonight because the two of you almost always stay at one anothers after parties. chris however, was coming along because neither matt or nick wanted to come to the party so you had taken him here, as well as offered to take him home the next day. he could have just ubered home tonight but, you and tara insisted that he come over to hang out after. what was he gonna do? say no to a fun innocent little sleepover with his friends??
the three of you walked in unison in order to keep your place under the shelter of chris' jacket. the whole way off the property the music faded and tara's heels clicking mixed with the rain's intensity picking up became all that was heard.
the close proximity of the three of you should have been uncomfortable but you had absaloutely no issue being this close to tara and chris- probably because they were both very outgoing and touchy people so they were comfortable as well, giggling the whole way down the lawn about who knows what. the smell of rain and chris' dior cologne filled your senses up the whole walk until finally, you all made it to the sidewalk and the uber was right there across the street.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
the ride home, you had all sat in the back together. you sat in the middle, head on chris's shoulder and one leg swung over tara's lap as you and tara yapped away almost the entire time. this wasn't weird because tara, you and chris were all naturally touchy people. and the alcohol hadn't completely left yours or taras systems quite yet.
opening your front door now, you instantly removed the heels that had been abusing your feet for hours. "i'm gonna get comfy clothes, you two can make yourselves comfortable" you told your friends as you locked your door securely. "could i borrow a shirt or something?" tara questioned with a sweet pleading smile as she slid off her heels and coat. "of course! come on" you enthused, leading her toward your laundry room since you hadn't had time to put any of your clothes away earlier before the party.
chris watched as you lead tara away. he had already made himself at home on your couch. he had been here before so it didn't take him long to figure out the tv remote either.
tara eventually picked out a t-shirt of yours to wear. you had chosen a matching tank and shorts pj set. as you were sliding your shorts on under your dress, you caught sight of tara sliding her dress down her shoulders. slowly her tits peaked over her dress, little by little till they were completely exposed.
you were in awe of how perfect they sat. how pretty. you were so mesmerized that you didn't even realize she had completely removed her dress and caught your hungry gaze. a typical tara giggle escaped her, snapping you out of your haze.
your eyes shot up to hers and you look petrified. "i'm so sorr-" "no no, it's okay" you could tell by the smile on her face that she was genuine. she slid your shirt over her head, covering her body back up again. "you want help unzipping your dress?" she asked. you were still so stuck on what had just happened that the question caught you off gaurd. why not though? god knows it'd be a nightmare to unzip it yourself. so, you nodded with an embarassed "sure".
tara made her way behind you, she stepped just a little closer than necessary and her painted fingernails found your zipper to slide it down. you could feel her breath on your neck, making your spine shiver. she slowly slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting your dress fall down near your stomach.
she came right behind you, head on your shoulder. she looked down at your chest VERY obviously observing you with her gaze. "gorgeous" she complimented, her mischevious smile contradicting her sweet and casual tone. she gave a quick kiss to your shoulder before abruptly leaving the room to go find chris like it was nothing.
you stood completely dumbfounded. you and tara were extremely close but that was weird, right? after a couple minutes of collecting your thoughts, you chalked it up to her flirty personality just being fed a little too much liquid courage tonight.
after getting your clothes on you made your way to the living room where chris and tara were talking away. they were sitting surprisingly close but, spacial awarness wasn't always tara's specialty. chris didn't seem to mind.
"heyy me and chris are deciding what we want to eat, what do you want?" she questioned excitedly with uber eats already open on her phone.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
you all had made your decisions on food as well as a movie and you instructed that everyone watched it in your room to be more comfy so here the three of you were now..
chris laid with his back against your headboard while you and tara sat next to him on either side. chris and tara were talking over the movie that was nearly over now. waterbottles and empty fast food containers filled the space on your side table. you and tara had completely sobered up about an hour ago after having had some food.
"right? like wear what you want i guess but like WOW i just.." you had no clue what chris was talking about and you didn't care, as your eyes fixated on the tv screen you drowned out your two friends voices. reaching into your bedside tables drawer, you removed a vanilla chapstick sorry spacecamp to fix the dryness that earliers alcohol had cursed you with.
the scent of it was super strong. chris had subconciously switched his attention from what he was saying to your lips as the scent you were applying filled his nose and senses. he watched as you drug it across your perfect, round and now smooth, lips. he realized he was staring and quickly looked away. now that his attention had been drawn to you, he realized that you hadn't really talked to him or tara much for the past hour.
"what is that? cake or some shit?" he said, more so as a reason to include you in conversation than out of actual curiousity. you went to put the cap back on the vanilla lipbalm "can i try?" tara asked before you could even answer chris. you went to hand her the tube but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently "why waste it when we could share?" she asked. you were confused for a second until a playful glint in her eyes told you what she meant.
so earlier she was flirting? you thought to yourself. your expression mirrored hers with a smirk as you casually responded "of course you can try it". she begins to move forward so you do too. the both of you are leaning over chris when your lips connect in a gentle peck. chris has no idea how to react. his lips are parted, eyes glossy with a growing desire as he watches his two friends infront of him.
your lips hover one anothers for a moment but nobodies pulling away so you connect mouths again. this time there's a passion, lust, to the kiss. your the first to add tongue and tara's more than welcoming about it, her tongue fighting back against yours for dominance. you lean into the kiss more and with that same surge of confidence, you make a split second decision to "accidentally" steady yourself by pressing your hand ontop of the blanket.. right over where chris' dick is located.
an unexpectful grunt slips his lips. you pull back from tara just a little to gage chris's reaction. he doesn't seem to mind but for your own good-concious you need to make sure. "this okay?" you ask as your palm gently starts rubbing onto the tent in the blanket. he nods confirmingly, a quiet "yeah" before his lips eagerly meet yours. tara backs up just slightly so she can adjust herself to place a kiss below chris's jaw. his hand rests onto her knee and he rubs his thumb lightly as a show of approval.
with that, she opens her mouth and begins lightly nipping at his neck. tara takes his hand that's on her knee and grabs it to guide it toward you, silently telling him to give you the attention instead right now. chris smirks into the kiss but you don't know why until his hand goes to toy the waist band of your shorts, making you flinch a little at the cold touch of his fingertips.
tara's lips leave chris's neck. she shuffling around the bed so you try to pull away to see what she's doing. chris's hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you back onto his lips. that doesn't last long though because next thing you know, tara's grabbing your shoulders to pull you to lay down on your back, head toward the end of the bed. your legs naturally go on either side of chris. he's still seated with his back against the headboard.
"you wanna make me feel good babe?" the tone of tara's voice makes your stomach flutter. you respond by nodding eagerly. tara giggles mischeviously in response as she stands to remove her black lace panties. chris eyes catch onto her. both of you watch as she bends over to slide them off, momentarily revealing her glistening pussy.
his attentions pulls away when you subconciously buck your hips up for attention. chris' long fingers slide into the waistband of your shorts to slide them off your legs. you allow him, lifting your hips to help. now you lift your head to watch what chris is up to. you feel tara's weight consume the bed next to your head but keep your eyes trained on the man between your legs. chris tosses your shorts aside before his hands find your thighs. painstakingly slow, his palms run up and down them, always close but never quite touching your aching cunt.
you begin to get impatient "chris. pl-" you're cut off by tara lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back down against the bed. "shh. let him take his time honey" as she speaks she raises herself over your face, thighs now on either sides of your head. you open your mouth to argue but instead you're silenced by tara's folds pressing onto your lips.
well, you for sure weren't gonna argue with that. you forget about chris for now, wanting tara's taste in your mouth. your tongue darts out to experimentaly flick at her clit once before you completely dive in to suck on her needy bud.
tara whines from the lack of build up. she looks down at you admirably as your tongue works her "so good honey." she praises you. it hasn't even been a minute and your pussy drunk, you wanna make her keep telling you how good your doing, wanna pull more pretty noises. you're so completely consumed with her that you hadn't even noticed chris pulled your panties to the side until his fingers unexpectedly ran through your folds.
"so fucking soaked." chris states, admiring your soaked cunt. "yeah? you like being buried in me that much?" tara teases, staring down at you. to answer her, your tongue slips into her hole, nose stimulating her clit now. "orr she just wants to be touched, hm?" chris says with slight competitivness, his pointer finger just barely grazes over your clit. you buck your hips toward him for more but he uses his free arm to hold your waist to the bed.
tara scoffs, rolling her eyes even though neither of you can see it. "yeah sure" she mutters quietly in response to chris. he catches it though, "i'd watch your tone" chris warns her. before tara can respond, he thrusts his middle and ring fingers into you, elicting a moan. the vibrations of your moan travel straight into taras cunt, making her whine loudly.
chris watches with satisfaction at having affected both of you at the same time. although his cock is throbbing, he's more than happy to watch the sight infront of him and continue to toy and play with you. or both of you. his fingers are as deep as they go when he curls them upwards. you cry out, grabbing tara's hand with one of yours and her thigh with your other.
your tongue is still fucking her closer and closer to the edge. everytime chris forces out all your pretty little noises, they go straight into tara's cunt again and again.
her thighs begin suffocating the sides of your head. you don't mind at all. she rocks her cunt right into your face, whines spilling out of her. "i'm close" she voices, her thighs beginning to shake. "not yet, get off of her" chris demands. tara turns her head as far as it goes to look back at chris. "excuse me?" she questions him . chris's fingers pull out of you. you try to complain but it's muffled. they continue the conversation without you. "you're not cumming yet." he tells her. tara looks... offended? baffeled? she opens her mouth to complain but chris rolls his eyes and raises to his knee's so he can grab taras hips, lifting her off you.
you immedietly sit up, confused. tara's juices coat your chin and chris motions for you to come to him. "what. the. fuck?" you finally complain, looking between the two of them. "what she said" tara chimes in. chris turns tara to face him and lays back. he looks at tara then nods toward his lap. the sour look leaves her face and she smirks knowingly as she straddles his hips, already working at his belt.
chris's attention switches to you. "you wanna feel good again? hm?" he asks you with a slightly cocky smile. you nod. "cm'ere" he lures you over to sit on his face. while tara unbuttons and removes chris' pants.. you nervously place your thighs on either side of your friends face.
his middle and ring fingers return back to your aching hole to tease you again. he can sense your nervousness to lower yourself onto his mouth. "cm'on let me taste you" chris says, telling not asking as he looks up at you. you're looking anywhere but him. he groans frustratedly and decides to take matters into his own hands. he uses his free arm to wrap it around your thigh and pull you right down to his tongue. he wastes no time flicking the tip of his tongue up and down your clit rapidly. as if that wasn't enough, his fingers fill you right back up. you almost jump at the unsuspected and sudden pleasure. you push your cunt further onto his mouth for more. you look down to see his blue lustful gaze staring right back up at you while he smirks into your sopping cunt. you clench around his fingers just at the sight.
meanwhile, tara's teasingly pulling his boxers toward his thighs.
tara wants nothing more than to ride him like he had implied however, tara figured someone might as well return the favour that he's giving to you right now. she leans down and her hand wraps around his base at the same time her lips enclose his tip.
a whiny moan slips chris lips that makes tara amusedly giggle around his cock, causing him to let another noise slip. both of these go right to your clit. you grip chris' hair for support and in return he curls his fingers right up into your g-spot.
you throw your head back and begin attempting to rock your hips into chris' face. the arm that's around your thigh holds you still though and he begins curling his fingers the same way over and over, again and again. you whine and moan as your body tries again and again to rock against his grip on you. chris lips wrap around your clit now, nipping and sucking. your stomach twists with pleasure, you know what's coming if he keeps this up.
tara's mouth slides down his length, taking him in almost completetely. chris's teeth bite down on your clit in reaction. it's not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to shock you and almost tip you right over the edge.
chris releases your clit with a pop. his voice is shakier than he anticipated. "y-you wanna cum baby?" your friend asks as he looks up at you, your juices on his face with pussy drunk eyes. "mm- mhm" is all you manage. he gently slaps your thigh, making you whine. "lemme hear you say it" his fingers continue to curl into you.
"i w-wanna cum chris mm please" you beg him desperately as you clench around his fingers. there's a few seconds of silence that makes tears fill the corner of your eyes. "good girl. g-go ahead" he struggled to speak as the pleasure tara's tongue gave him was almost too much.
the 'good girl' was more than enough for you. you practically fold over, you would have if your headboard wasn't there to grab onto. your legs shake and your walls squeeze his fingers, your orgasm is already coming over you but then on top of it chris adds his mouth back to the mix, latching it back to your clit. "chris!" his name comes out high pitched. stars cloud your vision as you coat his fingers completely.
tara's mouth release's chris' cock. the bed shifts for a couple seconds and before he can process it, the warm walls of her cunt envelope him, sinking all the way to his pubic bone. chris moans into you again but this time it feels like too much. you tried to lift your hips off of him but he only pulls your pretty pussy right back to him. his fingers leave you but his tongue flattens against your hole, licking a long stripe from there till your clit.
"fuck chris!""fuck!" you and tara both whine out. your pleasure's from the overstimulation, hers from the way his cock hits all the right spots when she rocks on it. his dick twitching inside of her at the sound of both your pretty cries. when tara begins a steady and fast pace, chris couldn't help but subconciously try and fuck up into her. she leans back, her hands on his thighs to steady herself as her rythym became faster. both chris and tara let out noises. hers whiny and desperate, his lower and less often.
you couldn't hear either of them over the ringing in your ears from every muscle in your body shaking. because of your last orgasm, you were still very sensitive. this time all it took was chris's mouth sucking on your clit for and you were almost there again.
tara was finding friction for her clit from rocking it into chris' pelvis everytime her hips moved. her mouth was slack and she was hardly even moaning anymore. heavy breaths coming as her chest heaved. "fuck- i'm so close" tara mutters mostly to herself. you took a hand off the headboard to reach behind you, your hand reaching out behind you and she takes the hint, grabbing it. you both squeezed one anothers hands for support.
you guys weren't the only one's close. chris's dick was twitching inside your bestfriend and his hips start to stutter.
tara pushes her hips down harder onto her friend and the feeling was enough for the coil in her stomach to release. she cried out breathlessly and at the same time, your thighs squeeze chris's head as you dig your nails into tara's hand. your mind goes completely blank.
you remove yourself from chris's face, completely overstimulated. tara leaves his cock at the same time, red and leaking precum. chris looked at tara confused.. until she looks at you, then back to him.
you didn't notice this, you were sat next to chris, chest heaving while you catch your breath. "think you can take one more, babe?" tara speaks up but her voice is strained and raspy from all the gorgeous noises she had emitted just moments ago.
you looked at chris who was already looking at you. he looked pretty, sweat causing a few of his brown strands to cling to his forehead. despite looking a little fucked out, he still had an eagerness to him probably because he hadn't cum yet.
he got up into a seated position and reached out, hand going into your hair to pull you into him. his lips collided with yours feverishly whilst tara's fingertips teasingly graze his tip. he instantly swatted her hand away. she let him because they both knew he had other plans.
chris turned you around, positioning you on your knee's infront of him. your back pressed against his chest.
he used his knee's to seperate yours, shuffling them apart. tara came infront of you, on her knee's as well. she attatched her lips with yours while chris was positioning himself. your arm came around the back of her neck and the other reached behind you to go to the back of chris's neck as well.
chris brushes his tip against your clit. you instantly jerked your hips away from his from the overstimulating feeling. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back. you whine but he shushes you. "jus one more, yeah?" he assured right before his cock entered you, filling you up completely.
your lips left tara's to let out what was practically a scream. "shh honey" enphasizing her words, tara's hand clasps over your mouth. she lowered her head level to your tits before taking a nipple into her mouth. this makes you whine again, then again when chris's tip abuses your cervix without warning.
you're already so sensitive from his tongue and fingers just moments ago, his cock feels like too much but so good at the same time. "so good for us" chris praises before slamming into you again, making you scream into tara's hand. her other hand lands a light slap to your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk. you don't go far against chris' firm hold on you. "mm- g- cmm" even with taras hand shutting you up, they both know what you're saying.
chris mouth is now right next to your ear "not yet. you're gonna cum with me" he mutters to you. you shake your head, not thinking you're gonna last. "either you can fuckin wait for me or- fuck- or i'll make you take a fourth o-one" he threatens you. you shake your head in momentary panic. there's no way you're gonna cum for a fourth after this but if he makes you wait much longer to cum you aren't gonna have a choice but to finish before he allows you to.
tara continues to swirl her tongue around your nipple fiercly and as if you weren't already fucked dumb, her middle finger makes sudden contact with your clit, rubbing fast circles.
now you know that they're both just trying to fucking ruin you.
now you speak nonsense into her hand, making her smirk with amusement. "what's wrong honey, too much?" tara asks you with a faux-sympathetic pout. you aggresively nod your head. responding for tara, chris pulls you impossibly tighter against him, hips slamming harder into you. you yell into her hand and both of them smirk. "want us to stop?" she says teasingly, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure. you instantly shake your head no.
her fingers still toy your clit and chris's pace slowly starts to falter. you can feel his breath on your neck becoming un-even. tara circles your sensitive bundle of nerves faster and you're sure your gonna be cumming before you're allowed.
luckily for you, the way chris holds your body tighter and his forehead drops to your shoulder says otherwise. "you gonna cum with me?" his voice is all low fucked out and it makes your walls squeeze him harder than ever. you nod, unable to speak for more than one reason. "go on then" he encourages along with a harsh slam of his hips. the second "go" left his lips your vision went white.
the next thing you were aware of was about 20 seconds after when his seed was spilling up into you to coat your walls. his forehead rested on your shoulder while he praised you on how good you were for him. "did so well" he said before gently kissing your shoulder while tara's fingers left your clit at the same time chris pulled out of you.
chris reached down next to your bed to retrieve everyones clothing for them. you had two bathrooms so you and tara headed off to one for a shower. chris to the other bathroom for the same reason.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
you all returned to your room after, clean and in new clean clothes. (lucky for chris, nick hangs out here often and you love to steal his shit to wear for comfort.)
chris had entered just as you finished making your bed with fresh sheets. "better not have been fucking in there without me" chris joked as he made himself comfortable laying on your bed. you and tara both simultaniously rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. you both joined him on the bed to lie down.
you were in the middle of them. chris spooned you and you spooned tara, cuddling one another comfortbly way past awkwardness at this point. chris rubbed a relaxing hand up and down your side and you played with your other friends hair relaxingly. you should know better though, comfortable silence doesn't exist with chris around...
"guess what?"
you audibly sighed. "what?" tara and you groaned knowingly in unison.
there's a little grin on his face that neither of you can see, but nonetheless you both sense the ridiculousness. "i saw both your boobies" he says in a childish sing-song tone.
"oh my god" "are you fucking kidding me?"
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i really hope y'all enjoyed. ᥫ᭡
tags: @daddyslilchickenfingers @fratbrochrisgf @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniccc
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jmstoesblog · 1 month
Text
It’s not over
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Pairing: possessive! Ex-boyfriend! Jungkook x fem!reader
Summary: Seems like the story with your ex was not over yet.
Warnings: smut, makeout, humping, fingering, dirty talk, little degradation, public sex, sex in the restroom, somebody hearing you two, he calls oc a bitch,
Wc: 2,200+
Note: this is my first time writing smut, let me know if I could do anything better. I wanna improve myself. Also the character “sehun” is not supposed to represent anybody. He’s just an imaginary character. I left the ending open cause I don’t know how to end it 😭 not proofread!!
Masterlist
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“Thank you.” You smile at the boy, sehun, as he pulls out the chair for you.
You’re on a date with him. He’s your work friend who’s had a crush on you for a looongg time.
When he got to know you broke up with your ex- boyfriend—Jungkook— he could finally ask you out but you rejected him because you weren’t ready to be in a new relationship yet. After a few months— 3 exactly— you decided to give in and have one date with sehun.
He’s not really your type but you’re giving it a chance because, why not? Jungkook wasn’t your type either and you two dated for two and a half year.
Jungkook knows what he wants, he’s bold, can be a asshole sometimes, is a pervert, only thinks with his dick… and the list goes on.
But on the other hand he is very sweet, caring, funny and cute!
But dating him was…. different.
He is really possessive and gets jealous easily which results in you two having angry sex.
But you still loved him…… until he got too much and you decided you two are better off alone.
Jungkook was heartbroken and tried getting back with you but you stood your ground. He would buy you gifts and flowers. Come to your work at lunchtime and try to take you out. You remember one time it was raining like crazy and he was outside of your house on his knees, begging you to take him back, and promised to be better.
You were stubborn and didn’t give in because you knew he wouldn’t change.
A month ago he stopped all of this and finally left you alone. You’re not going to lie you do miss him but it’s better this way.
“So, what do you want to order?” Sehun sweetly smiles at you and holds your hand which is on the table.
You smile back and hope he doesn’t notice you’re uncomfortable with him touching you like that, “The steak sounds good. I think I’ll order that.”
“I heard the steak here is the best!” He smiles, you smile back. He has a cute smile!
After he placed both orders, he tried to start a conversation with you as you were not trying to bother to start one.
It hurt him because he knows you’re not like that. You talk a lot but he just assumed you were in a bad mood.
“I’m sorry, I just feel weird.” You apologize noticing his uneasy state.
“Why? What’s wrong?” He’s so sweet, you feel bad for behaving like that.
“It’s nothing, just a weird feeling.” He nods, not questioning you further.
After the drinks arrived, you gulped down the water and almost spit it all out.
Jungkook was here.
He was smirking when you looked at him with shock and fear in your eyes. He was sitting a few tables away from you.
He head skinny jeans on, hugging his thick thighs. He is wearing his usual combat boots, a black shirt with a leather jacket. He is wearing many jewelry’s like rings, chains, bracelets and not to forget his piercings. Silver hoops adorn his ear on both sides, his hair is parted in the middle and don’t hide his eyebrow piercing. Looking down you notice two lip rings. Oh god.
His smirks widens at you checking him out like that. He still has that effect on you.
“I-I need to use the bathroom.” You cut him off and leave, not waiting for a response.
You enter the bathroom and enter a stall.
“Shit! What do I do!? Why is he here?? Ugh!” You groan in frustration.
After a month of leaving you and giving you hope he’s leaving you alone, he comes back?!
The bathroom door gets opened and from under the stall you see…. black combat boots….. he whistles noticing the restroom is completely empty, except you hiding somewhere.
He whistles louder and opens the first stall door. Empty. He slams it back shut and opens the next one. Empty. He slams it back shut and opens the next one. Empty again. He slams it shut. He keeps going until he is in front of the stall in which you are in.
He whistles even louder.
“Oh, baby.” He laughs. “Open the door. Wanna talk to you.”
“No, are you crazy? You can’t just come into the ladies room like that!”
“Calm down, nobody’s here… except us, so open the door while I’m asking nicely.”
You take a deep breath and open the door, “Look, you have to go, we’re over.” You try to make him understand.
“You decided that! You didn’t give me any chance to prove myself! You just told me that right of the bat and left without hearing me out first!”
He takes a step closer, standing in the doorway now.
“You just gave up on our relationship— our love— like that! You didn’t give us a chance. You didn’t give me a chance to prove myself, I’ve changed!”
He takes another step.
“Why don’t we give us another chance?” He now speaks in a softer voice, trying to convince you. “I will forget about that little boy waiting outside, yeah baby?”
“If you choose to come with me now, all is forgotten baby. I’ll treat you dinner after that we go to my place and I’ll fuck the daylights out of you, yeah?”
You roll your eyes at him. “You’re only thinking with your dick right now, Jungkook!” You push him back. “I have had enough! I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you understand!?” You yell at him.
He clicks his tongue, “i have had enough too, you know? You’re acting like a bitch right now, you know that? I’m trying to save our relationship and you’re acting like some stupid bitch.” He takes a step closer and closes the stall door with his foot.
He pulls you closer by your waist. “Why can’t you understand? It’s simple, I want you, you want me.”
“It’s not that simple. You act like a possessive controlling freak. And I’ve had enough of it.”
“I don’t want to be with yo—“
He slams you against the wall and smashes his lips against yours, kissing the life out of you. You try pushing him but he’s too strong.
“What do you even see in him, huh?” Jungkook mumbles against your lips, “bet he can’t even satisfy you,” he chuckles darkly, “can’t even protect you, like I do.” He kisses you again, “can’t make you laugh like I do.”
Your lips and his lips are swollen from all the kissing, he smirks at the sight, “you look so pretty,” he smiles, “you even dressed up…. for him.” His smile drops.
“It’s a date, did you expect me to come in sweatpants and a torn shirt?” You state the obvious, in a duh tone.
“No, I expected you to not come to this date at all. We’re not finished, how can you start dating after 4 months? Did the two and a half years mean nothing to you?” You can tell he’s hurt by your actions.
You feel……guilty?
You do love him, but it was getting too much for you.
“I changed. I really did, baby. Give me a chance and I’ll prove myself to you.” He sounds sincere.
He closes the space between you two and gently kisses you, holding your head in his large hands. This time you kiss back, lost in the pleasure.
He moves his head down and starts sucking on your neck. Soon his gentle sucking turns into harsh biting, you moan at the feeling. He makes sure to mark your whole neck, so everyone knows who you belong to. Especially sehun.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, “you smell so good.” Jungkook come back up and pecks your lips before telling you to jump which you do. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a squeeze, “want you.” You whine, Jungkook clicks his tongue, “oh? Now you want me?”
“You wanted me to beg, baby? Is that it?”
Your core is right above his hard cock. You start humping and moan in delight, “feels good, baby?” He chuckles into your ear.
He presses his hand firmly on your clothed pussy, “I can already feel you drippin’ for me.”
He slaps your count making you wince. He torns your panties, you gasp, “they were expensive!”
“Don’t worry I’ll buy you hundreds of them.” He mumbles before leaning in to kiss you. In the kiss he slaps your bare pussy causing you to gasp and grip his shoulders tighter, your arousal is on his hand.
He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth and explore it. He sucks on your tongue and moans.
He circles your hole and abruptly pushes a finger in. He knows you like being fingered while he is wearing rings, sometimes it hurts but that adds to the pleasure. The mix of pain and pleasure is just too good.
You hide your face in his neck, “s- so good!” You moan, “yeah? You like that?” He says in a husky voice.
“You like it hard, don’t you? You filthy slut.” You whine at his words, getting more turned on. He sinks another finger in.
His wrist flicks up, fingers going in and out of you at a fast pace, “want more,” you bite his neck to quieten your moans, “more?” He asks you, you nod, “please.” You beg.
Jungkook likes being in control and having you beg for him, turns him on and boosts his ego.
“Please, what baby? What do you want?”
“Want you in me,” he leaves little kisses on the side of your face, “Yeah? want my cock in you?” He whispers in your ear.
You nod, your mouth parting from the pleasure. Jungkook chuckles at your state.
Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away, “I was about to,” you don’t finish your sentence as you whine. Jungkook lazily smiles, “I’m gonna give you something better.”
You unwrap your legs around him and stand on your own legs. He pushes his pants down along with his underwear after unzipping his pants. You drool at the sight of his hard, thick, veiny cock.
You drop to your knees, ready to suck him off. But Jungkook stops you, “As much as I would like to have my cock in your mouth, I don’t have the patience to wait anymore.”
He pulls you up by your shoulder and slams his cock into you, he swallows your moans and screams by kissing you. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to his size.
“Fuck, baby! You’re so tight.”
He starts moving slow, letting you feel all of him. “Faster,” you plead.
He starts going faster and smacks your asscheek before groping it and giving it a good squeeze.
Meanwhile, sehun is sitting at the table wondering why you’re taking so long. He decides to look for you, “maybe she needs help? or something happened!?” He gasps, standing up and making his way to the restroom.
“Should I go in? No, I can’t.” He talks with himself.
Meanwhile you’re having one of the best fucks ever, Jungkook grips your chin and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Did she leave? No, no, her purse is still here.” Sehun talks with himself, earning glances from people but he doesn’t care, “is she taking a poop? That long?”
“Jungkook im sorry,” you apologize and he starts laughing, he throws his head back, “now you’re sorry? Once you get this cock your brain starts thinking? Aren’t you a pathetic little slut?”
You whine loud at his words. You know he doesn’t intend to hurt you with his words.
“Will you come back to me now?”
Tears start rolling down your tears, you nod. He smirks, “all it took was a fuck?” He laughs at you, mocking you.
“Y/n?” A gentle knock is heard.
You widen your eyes and jungkook doesn’t stop thrusting into you. He slowed down his pace tho.
“Y/n , are you in there? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at him and you shoot him a glare, before you’re able to speak Jungkook starts thrusting into you fast, skin clapping sounds resonating of the walls.
You moan loudly and sehun widens his eyes and quickly leaves. Not just the door but the restaurant.
He saw Jungkook earlier but thought it’s coincidence that your ex boyfriend is also here. But seeing him follow you after you went to the restroom was weird. He had a feeling something was fishy and he was right. Guess your story with your ex boyfriend didn’t end yet.
“That’s right, baby. Let him know who you belong to.” You moan louder, “good girl.” He praises you.
“Just like that. Good.” He grunts.
You’re too lost in all the pleasure, forgetting your ‘date’.
——————————————————————————
Do NOT copy or translate
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on-leatheredwings · 1 month
Text
False Pretenses (18+)
Yandere ! Damian Wayne x (Fem) Reader
romantic, 18+ > summary: Damian needs an heir someday, and he knows your body can provide that. > tw/cw: stealthing/baby trapping. there is consensual sex under false pretenses, so this could (and should) make this fall under dub- or non-con! there is also a brief mention of somnophilia. Plus, some breeding kink, praise kink. Also some weird thoughts about (cis) women who are fertile being ‘ideal’ and a preference for biological children. Just a warning. > word count: 5088. jesus christ. > [a/n: (smokes a blunt). ] > again 18+ only, damian wayne is 21
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So, Damian has a breeding kink.  
You sit in bed (his bed), knees to your chest, trying not to smile.
The covers are wrapped around your bare body as you recall the night prior’s events. 
Last night was the farthest you two have gone physically. You’ve made out, of course. That was in short order after officially becoming a couple, the both of you starved for the other. You’ve groped each other, both over and under your clothes… You’ve given him a handjob… (To his utter dismay that you’ve brought him to orgasm first rather than the reverse.) And last week, you took him in your mouth for the first time. But yesterday night was the first time you had been on the receiving end. 
Now, you are no virgin, but the memory does make you clutch your metaphorical pearls. You didn’t know simple fingering could be so… perverse.
Damian’s two middle fingers are thrusting back and forth into your trembling cunt. Your ears are steaming at the resulting noises filling the air. They’re lewd, and entirely involuntary on your part. Sweat on your temple drips, your torso heaves with shaken breath. Your damp back lies flush against his hard chest, two perfect puzzle pieces. Damien’s chin rests on your shoulder, allowing him to have a beautiful view of the mess you’re making on his slender digits. Viridian eyes have their entire focus on you, utterly fascinated. 
The look in them is enough to make you blush, even if two of his fingers weren’t in you right now.
Sinful, reverent whispers into the shell of your ear marvel about how well you’re doing, how prepared you’ll be to take him afterwards. Damian’s free hand rests on your abdomen, pointedly over your womb.
He’ll fill you. Breed you. After all, you can handle that. You were basically made for it. He knows you’d be perfect at it.
Chin resting on the palm of your hand, you come back to the present. 
Yeah, that was really turning him on, you mull, with almost academic interest. Your lips curl into a catlike grin. How curious!
Hey, you aren’t judging! You can see the appeal. After all, you hadn’t exactly been complaining last night… just caught off guard. 
You sit with your thoughts as Damian washes up in his restroom. 
It is in his bedroom you currently lounge, absentmindedly fiddling with satin sheets. His bed is large enough to drown in. His room is a wash of dark emerald greens and deep blues, with golden accents. On a table sits a sheathed sword, its grip a beautiful gold.
Both of you are college students finishing up your last semester. During the school season, Damian stays in his penthouse. Yes, his penthouse. Why he couldn’t just stay at his billionaire father’s mansion, you don’t know. Bird has to leave the nest sometime, you suppose. 
Slowly lowering your knees and letting your back hit cool sheets, you lie down. You get lost in the ceiling – a beautiful Arabesque pattern is subtly molded across its expanse. Damian’s culture is so cool. Such was a sentiment you had communicated in such words, and he simply kissed your knuckles with a proud curve of his lips, and thanked you for the compliment. You blush.
Ugh. Damian is so cool. 
You start pulling up every uncool thing about him in your mental reservoir. You can’t have him getting a big head, after all. Or rather, can’t have his head getting any bigger.
Hmm… breeding kinkster, breeding kinkster, thy name is Damian Wayne.
You blink dumbly.
Breeding... breeding…
Pregnancy.
Your body stiffens. 
Wait. Does this… does that mean something? Is that like. A thing? What people call foreshadowing? You sit up, disturbed.
At that exact moment, Damian saunters out of the washroom. His eyes catch yours immediately, as if drawn by magnetism. He is still shirtless, navy blue sweatpants looking entirely artful on his tall, bronze body. His usual shrewd expression relaxes at the sight of you.
At the sight of him, your heart skips a beat, and not out of admiration for his looks. It was like you had been caught red-handed, speculating things. Sometimes you swear he knows what you’re thinking.
He stalks toward you, eyes loving. He places a kiss on your lips, punctuating it with “Good morning, my love.” 
“G-good morning,” you return, painfully aware of your nakedness under his sheets. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He places kisses on your bare shoulder, trailing down until he’s kissing your hand. While normally you’d be melting, you remain stiff.
Damian pecks one last kiss when you blurt, “Do you want kids?”
You inwardly smack your forehead. Well, you weren’t one to shy away from a tough conversation. For better or worse.
Damian stirs, blinking at you.
You continue, trying not to wilt, “Do… Do you want kids? I-is that something you want? Like, someday?”
How the hell did this not come up sooner, you don’t know.
… Well. 
Perhaps it hadn’t come up because your relationship was fairly new. You’ve known Damian for five years now. And for the last two, your relationship had been under a taxing, soul-sucking ‘will-they-won’t-they-it’s-complicated’ vague denomination for quite a while. Both of you knew each of you had feelings for the other. But Damian confessing his vigilante secret and his assassin past was quite the double whammy. 
Damian was resolute in keeping you and himself safe and alive, but you had to think critically about a future with him. Eventually you said fuck it, throwing caution to the wind because you loved him, and you wanted him. And he, you.
Officially, it’s only been three months of dating – and you both are young. You both are in your last year of college. Talking about kids felt … fast.
Damian remains silent, face tentative. Having been leaning over you, he now sits on his bed, looking thoughtful. 
“... Is that something you want?”
You sigh. Of course he’d turn it on you.
“I…” Your throat feels tight. God, why can’t we just enjoy a damn honeymoon phase… “I mean…? I’m… open to it. But yeah, it seems kinda… Like. I don’t know. That’s a lot right now.” Your voice is uncharacteristically small and meek. 
You should stop there. Keep it vague. Keep things light. But you know which side of the fence you’re leaning on, and so should he.
“A-and you know– like, you know I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother– I just. Don’t know. If ever. I guess?” 
You sit in awkward silence with him. You pray God just decides to smite you where you sit, because Christ. That was horrible.
Things like this could break a relationship, you know. And your chest clenches painfully at the thought of separating from Damian.
Damian takes in your words, nodding. He’s usually so easy to read – you’re well-versed in Wayne-nese by now, having spent a lot of time with him and the rest of his family. But he seems to be withholding his inner thoughts intentionally from you. Your heart sinks. 
You nudge him with your feet.
“Damiii. Do you?”
Damian’s eyes glimmer with characteristic haughtiness, instantly making you warm. He crawls forward, hands sinking into the bed by your hips. He nips at your nose before locking lips. It’s a sweet, sweet kiss that’s like candy, until you feel the stroke of his hot tongue. You moan freely, not caring that he’ll likely tease you later for being so easy.
He retreats, licks his lips. 
“You fiend,” you blurt. The insult rolls off him.
“What I want is to be with you.” You swallow dryly, heart thumping like a chorus line. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian could see literal hearts in your eyes. 
He puts a hand on your knee, stroking softly. You feel mollified at the action. Damian only did that when everything was alright. 
“We’ve got class. If you get dressed fast enough, I’ll buy you that confectionary you’re always wanting.”
You stick out your tongue. “It’s a frappe,” you say, adding before he could say otherwise, “and yes, it is real coffee.”
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Back from class, you decided to read on his living room recliner while he drew in his study. Damian indeed sketched, as he did everyday. Unsurprisingly, you were the subject, along with your favorite flowers. But Damian chose his study, rather than drawing you from life, because he also wanted to check if today was the day he thought it was. He opens the drawer of his wooden desk, papers neatly filed. He picks up a sleek black folder that spends most of its time laid in hiding underneath.
… 
So, for the record, Damian did not lie. 
He merely obfuscated an answer with a truth. 
He does want to be with you above anything, and if children were out of the question due to natural causes… sure, he would learn to get over it. His brothers are all adopted and are as legitimate heirs to his father as he. But as it stands, Damian needs an heir someday and he knows your body can provide that. 
… A not-insignificant part of him quietly admits that he simply wants his children to be blood-related. He’d never express this to anyone. His brothers are adopted, so how could he? But instilled from infancy into Damian was that he was the result of two genetically perfect individuals. 
So why shouldn’t his child be the genetic amalgamation of you and him, both of whom are also two perfect beings? The thought of impregnating you sounds… good. Ideal. Natural, even. Call him a romantic.
When opened, inside the folder is a calendar for the year, with no notes or writing. Some days are blank. Some are highlighted in either red or green.
His eyes skirt down to the current day of the calendar, and Damian's pleased to see it is indeed among a week that's painted in green. You've ovulated, and the six days afterward are an ideal window. 
You've said in passing that your cycle is pleasantly regular and Damian's past investigations have proved this to be true. Not that he asks anymore. He snorts, remembering how last time you looked at him incredulously and asked if he was a Republican, since he was “all up in your womb.” 
However, you do keep menstrual products in your bag when he’s predicted it. You also spend quite some time at his place, so he does note when there’s pad wrappers in his bathroom trash bin.
Last year, the day he knew you were the one – his One – he brewed you a tea before bed. Its sedative contents ensured you wouldn't wake, and you were out like a light within minutes. So, Damian pulled off your pants, and collected a specimen from you as you slept. Of course, he did so with sterile, sexless precision –  Damian wasn’t a pervert or deviant. He sniffs. He’s better than that. Even if his hands did linger.
Test results proved you were healthy and fertile. He recalls this with pride. As expected, you were perfect in all things. Damian closes the folder and ruminates in his seat. 
Damian had assumed so, but now you’ve confirmed with him that you’re unsure about raising children based on your history with your own family. He hears you. As if he doesn’t have his own slew of mommy problems. If you bring it up again, he’ll wave you off. You’ll be an amazing mother. You just need a push, and you’ll be confident soon enough.
His fingers steeple. Hm… There’s the issue of having children before marriage… He doesn’t know how you feel about children outside of wedlock, but it’s not as though you’re very traditional. You don’t seem to have a problem with the fact that’s how he was conceived. It’s not a big concern regardless, because Damian is going to marry you anyway. If it’s an issue, you both could marry in as soon as a month. 
It all works out. 
It’s perfect, he thinks.
Damian puts up his sketchbook and folder alike, heading to his bedroom to change. It was about time he put his plans into action, and he knows just how to usher it into fruition.
“That doesn’t look like a very satisfying read,” Damian says, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. 
You don’t look up from your book, your cringing face only deepening. 
“Well, that’s because it isn’t. I was lied to! By my favorite Youtuber! By BookTok! And fuck it, by the government–”
"My love."
“You ask for one slow burn rivals-to-lovers and instead you get him fawning over her within three chapters–”
“My love,” he repeats, though amused.
“And let’s not even start about how this prose is abysmal–”
“My love.”
Since it was said oh-so-sweetly, you look up from your book. 
Damian is... oh. He's in that outfit he knows you like. The League of Assassins one that's sleeveless, dark, and form fitting with gorgeous gold trim. It turns his body into a marvelous painting of black and gold on the tanned backdrop that is his skin. And you’ve told him so… Except his eyes. His beautiful, intense green eyes. He straightens from how he leans against the wall, stepping closer.
You toss your book, not even watching its trajectory. It takes out a vase on the way down and you still don’t spare it a glance.
"Damian Wayyyyyne," you sing, hopping up to stalk toward your prey. Your hands land on his chest. Hello, tig ol' biddies, you cheer internally. It takes considerable restraint to keep from saying it aloud – you know Damian gets all flustered with his delicate sensibilities. “Why, are you trying to seduce me?”
An elegant, thick brow rises in amusement. Well, that was exceedingly easier than expected.
“That depends entirely on whether it’s working.”
“Oh, it’s working,” you say, running your hands down to his abdomen. His hands rise to capture yours. 
“Tt.” 
Damian takes steps backward, leading you by the hands into his bedroom. Your leer grows even bigger. Oh, yes. You two lock eyes the whole while until you reach the foot of his bed, merriment and attraction dancing in both pairs.
You push him onto the bed, on all fours above him. You dive down for a deep kiss, tongue eager for a dance. Eventually it’s you who separates to breathe, panting lightly. The sight below you is one for sore eyes, Damian Wayne lying with eyes glazed with lust. He’s acting awfully agreeable, and you can’t say you don’t like it.
“Habibti, I want you.” Damian slides his hand to cup your crotch. You shiver, at his touch and his words.
“And you have me,” you say, voice warm. “Habibti.”
He smirks, probably thinking your accent could use some work. 
“It’s Habibi, coming from you.” 
You nod shyly, but you can have a lesson later. You’re about to slip off your pants when he brings your hand in between your bodies, placing it on his crotch. You sharply inhale. He’s hard, and straining against sinful, elastic tights. 
“... And I mean, I want all of you.”
Your brows rise. So, he wanted to go all the way today? You feel your cheeks and crotch flood with heat. You find it easier to nod your head rapidly, lest you start barking. At your agreement, Damian’s face washes over with anticipation. You’re glad it’s not just you over the moon at the prospect.
You both rip your clothes off manically, laughing and elbows butting into each other’s sides. Damian expertly flips positions, boxing you in with his knees. You exclaim in surprise, a sound that drifts into shaky breaths and mewls of pleasure as he runs his fingers over your breasts, your stomach… He wets his fingers with his mouth before his digits start circling your clitoris.
You inhale sharply, mesmerized by the cyclical motion. Never until Damian has sex felt so flustering. Just watching his administrations was overwhelming, let alone the feeling– Your head reels back from an electric shock of pleasure. You gasp into the air.
"W-wait... wait, you have a condom, right…?" you whisper, though you have half a mind to just go without. You need him.
Damian tensed. 
"I... I don't like how it feels." You raise a brow. You've heard condoms can feel like a second skin, especially nowadays. Then again, men were always complaining about them. It's not like you had the necessary equipment to confirm, so hell if you knew how it felt.
You place your hands on his cheeks, and his hands ghost over your wrists. You bite your lip.
"Well… Just this once? And if... it's that important to you, maybe I'll get on birth control–" 
His head jerks as if struck, his brows furrowed.
“No.”
You stare, agape. There’s a small pause, both of you staring at the other. Damian’s face looks as though he’s betrayed himself. Your boyfriend didn’t strike you as so… traditionalist, to say the least. Lord knows you wouldn’t be with him if he was… so you will hear him out before nurturing any suspicion. 
Sitting up on your forearms, you ask, “... What do you mean ‘no’?” 
"I mean… I…” Damian sighs, looking utterly frustrated with himself. “I mean, you don’t need to.” 
You blink and raise a brow, unimpressed. 
“... Because?”
Damian’s jaw hardens. He grits out, “Because, I'm… sterile." 
You flinch, purely from surprise. Damian merely stares, eyes narrowed in what you presume is annoyance at himself. 
Uh. Okay, hello brand new information? Why hadn't this come up before? Well, it is pretty sensitive information. And since you hadn’t had penetrative sex yet, why would he have brought it up? And today was the first day you had even thought about kids. It… makes sense. 
"Y-you are...?" You settle down, much like a cat whose hair is lowering from standing on end. "Okay… okay...” Damian remains stony, but he cringes at your clear relief. 
Mistaking it as embarrassment, you quickly stroke his cheek. “No, baby, I'm sorry about that." You could assume it's quite emasculating. Men and their complexes about performing and wow, suddenly the breeding kink makes sense.
“So, you can’t…” you trail off. Knock me up? remains gracefully unsaid.
Damian nods stiffly. He really does hate lying to you like this. "I've been told it's very... unlikely." In reality, Damian knows his sperm count, and he's verified there should be no issues with reproduction. You both are in peak condition.
Despite the heat raging in your pants and your body begging can we just fuck already, you furrow your brows. All of this sounded fine, but it was still just… you needed specifics. To be safe. After all, there’s no rush, is there? Even if your pulsating cunt would beg to differ, painfully aware that two naked people were in a bed not doing naked-people-things.
"When did you get tested? And w-why? I mean, you're only twenty-one." 
He waves his hand, snorting with his typical condescension. "I'm an heir to a dynasty – as soon as I was of age, it behooved us to know." 
Us. That’s not a you-and-me “us”. You cringe, thinking about Talia and Ra's Al Ghul making it their business to know Damian's fertility. What an invasion of privacy for him… And no wonder he thought nothing of being in your body’s business as well.
"Well, unlikely is still possible, right?” You fear any surprises. Lord knows it would be just your luck to get fertilized by the un-fertilizable. You point at him. “And we should be using condoms anyway! It's not just pregnancy we should be afraid of."
Damian wants to assure you how insanely low the chances are of an infertile male getting anybody pregnant, and is about to do so, when his eyes narrow. 
"Is there a reason we would need to protect against venereal diseases? There are none between the two of us." You flinch at his tone, colored with the acidity of jealousy. Suspicion.
The implication (accusation?) causes you to glare at him. 
“...Yeahhh, okay,” you reply coldly. “Moment's ruined.” 
You push him off you, but in a panic, he hisses your name. You flinch. At your wary expression, the color drains from his face.
“I… I’m sorry,” he says, brows furrowed and looking utterly ashamed. “I… I’m sorry.” You don’t meet his eyes, simply nodding. He places kisses on your wrist, shoulder, nose. Damian sometimes had his moods, although he was truly confusing you today.
“It’s fine, really,” you reassure. And it’s true, it was mainly the heat of the moment. You were sure Damian could never really scare you.
Your words don’t persuade the shame and fear out of his eyes or lighten the heaviness of his brow. You smile, huffing. Taking his face into your heads, you kiss him chastely on the forehead, nose tip, both cheeks. Until you punctuate the action with a kiss to his lips.
“Damian, really.”
Damian nods stiffly. He’ll never truly forgive himself, but he’s probably okay enough for now.
You shift on the bed, and there’s the telltale sensitivity between your thighs. Damn it. You still want him. You two stare at each other, still very naked and aroused. You turn the idea in your head … He’s sterile, right? And pregnancy is your only reservation. 
As if hearing your thoughts, Damian’s face fills with determination. 
“... I-it’s–” okay, let’s have sex anyway, you are going to finish. 
“I’ll do it,” he interrupts. You blink. He leans toward you, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. You’re sure he’s about to kiss you, when he suddenly withdraws. 
Your eyes catch the glimmer of some metallic object. He holds a silver square wrapper in between his fingers, likely plucked from beneath his pillow.
You look at him, and he says frankly, “I’ll do anything for you.” 
You melt… before grinning, catlike. “My, my. So it seems Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Condoms still prepares a contingency plan. Very Son of Batman of you–”
“Shut it,” he groans, dotting kisses along your neck to make you do just that.
You feel relief flood your bloodstream. Then it is quickly replaced with raging desire. Oh, finally. 
“Lay back,” he says, too soft to be an order. You do so without fanfare, a little curious as to why he’s not following you. Then you see him scoot back, feel him hike up your lower half, and you feel a thrill of excitement. 
You squeak, feeling your ass leaving the bed entirely. A pillow is quickly placed underneath, and you are feeling quite pampered.
There’s curious licks along your labia, to which you twitch.
Damian finds his way to your clitoris, suckling and stroking heavily with his tongue.
“Hhnngh,” you speak. Keep going. Right there. 
“Truly, a poet,” Damian’s voice says, muffled. You bite your lip, unable to retort because it feels too good. Damian is curious, experimenting. You know he’s gamifying this, responding and changing his strategies entirely on what draws the most unintelligible noise out of you. He slips his tongue in, and you grasp at his hair. He responds by pumping it back and forth.
Eventually, you do fear he’ll bring you to orgasm with this alone, when you both have more plans for the evening. 
You wipe a layer of sweat from your temple, panting. “I’m ready. I’m ready,” you say, tugging meekly at short black locks.
Damian hums, and the vibration hits you straight in the clit. He sits up on his forearms, lips delightfully messy. His cheeks are ruddy and his brows are pinched with effort, chest heaving for breath. He looks very good like this. 
“I’m ready,” you say again. Damian doesn’t need to be told twice. Your head hits the back of the pillow, and you close your eyes as you catch your breath. You hear the rustling and discarding of a condom wrapper. Damian positions himself accordingly, hands sunk into the bed on either side of your waist.
“Ready?” he asks. His eyes hold… shyness, if you can believe it. You stroke his cheek, grinning. 
“Always ready for you,” you respond. You make sure to sit up. You want to see.
You watch, fascinated, as the head of Damian’s cock slowly disappears into your body. The consonance between seeing it and feeling it only stokes the fire of your arousal. 
You moan openly, the sound making your ears heat. Damian dares to chuckle, and you claw his back in retaliation. 
“Oh, shut up, and go deeper,” you breathe, eyes fluttering with pleasure. You didn’t realize how much you missed this. The feeling of being filled, of being full. You didn’t realize you could miss something you never had as well – Damian felt like he belonged in you. You feel every inch of you work to accommodate his sudden presence.
“And how can I deny such a request?” he gasps aloud, voice strained. 
You feel more than a little pride that you were among the few who could make Damian bend to your whims with this (or any) level of subservience. The proud, proud Damian Wayne. The same Damian that sinks into you further, into your tight, hot wetness. He finally bottoms out and you exhale.
“You’re… a perfect… fit,” you say, dazed and in between pants.
Little do you know the resulting pang that shoots into his groin at that statement. He grasps you harder, maybe even enough to bruise. He needs you badly. He needs to fill you badly.
Damian leans even more forward, and you squeal. You’re just along for the ride at this point. He does all the necessary machinations to fold you in half, thighs bending back.
"W-wait," you stutter, but it falls on deaf ears. 
He’s really stretching the limits of your flexibility here. Before you know it, you’re in a mating press. 
“Damian,” you moan, because you’re too overstimulated to say much else.
“You’re perfect,” he says into the shell of your ear. “You can take this. You were made for this.” You nod, slack-jawed. He rocks into you, skin slapping against skin as your pelvises meet. Your eyes flutter and roll back.
“I could spend forever filling you up. I could spend forever watching it spill out of you.” 
You close your eyes, cheeks aflame, much too embarrassed by his perverse whispers. You feel … almost ashamed at how much it arouses you. Almost. Majorly, it’s fulfilling a dark fantasy you didn’t know you liked.
“... Come inside me,” you breathe, unable to say anything more. You were embarrassed enough. He was using a condom, it was assumed he would be. But hopefully he’d see you were participating in his little fantasy, that you liked it too…
His thrusts are unyielding, and they only get harder, faster, more desperate as the time passes. Damian finishes with a groan, his abs clenching and flexing with effort.
You welcome it, taking it all because he’s right, you were made for this. In this moment, it’s like you were entirely made for this.
To your surprise, there’s sudden stroking on your throbbing clit, and that brings you to the finish line as well.
Your head jerks back violently, body snapping to attention as you ride the wave of an orgasm. A gasp by your ear. You’re clenching around Damian’s length, wringing him dry.
He collapses, narrowly keeping himself from squashing you flat. The two of you are a tangle of sweaty limbs, chests heaving.
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“You’ve got to get out of me sometime,” you tease.
You’ve both been lying like this, too taxed to move for maybe ten minutes now. 
“Is that so? Honestly, I could die here without complaint,” Damian says, and you get the feeling he’s dead serious. Nevertheless, he rolls away. He does not let you go far, wrapping his arms around you. You shiver at the feeling of him unsheathing himself, suddenly feeling empty.
… And wet. Wetter than expected.
You keep from flushing. Damn, you were really enamored with him, it seems.
You rub your thighs together, relishing in the feeling. Until you pause.
… No, like, you’re really wet. 
You slowly sit up, investigating. To your surprise, you’re leaking… cum. And clearly not just your own. It’s smattered down your thighs, sticky. When you pause and can literally feel the cum drip out of you, you exclaim.
“Fuck… fuck.” You put a hand to your dripping cunt, and are surprised when it indeed comes back wet and pearlescent white. It’s for real. 
“What’s wrong?” you hear, but you hardly register it.
You pull at a scrap of wrinkled plastic, pulling it out. The condom is shredded. It broke. 
“Damian. It broke.”
You stare at it dumbly. It broke. You feel the onset of fear creep by… it’s held at bay, when you feel Damian hushing you, stroking your shoulders.
Damian holds you, asks why are you worrying…? He told you there’s no way. He can’t, he’s sterile. 
You dumbly nod, combating fear by reasoning with yourself. Well… you were about to have sex without it anyway, after all. What does it matter if the condom broke? 
You suppose it’s just the shock of a failsafe… well, failing to save you. So why do you feel so disconcerted? What’s this niggling feeling, you wonder. You stare at your inner thighs. His cum paints you like a mark.
“It’s nigh impossible,” Damian states. He’s doing what he does best – nullifying your emotions with facts. He pulls you back into his arms, your back against his chest. “The condom was really for your peace of mind. It’s not like it did anything.”
You don’t speak, simply staring at the condom in your hand. You nod. 
“Really, there’s no point in wearing condoms from now on anyway. They break.” 
Damian’s fingers trace circles on the bone of your shoulders. “I mean, they’re practically pointless. And either way–”
With his long reach, he grabs his phone off the nightstand. He pulls up an article, illustrating the likelihood of him successfully inseminating you. 
“See?” he says. “It’s not a factor.”
Unwilling to let whatever strange funk you’ve entered ruin the afterglow of your orgasm, you nod again. You turn your head halfway, smiling. Of course, without missing a beat, Damian kisses you sweetly. 
To hell with the condom. And to hell with getting stuck in your head. Lord knows you overthink everything. It’s as Damian says. 
His fingers dance on your abdomen, and it tickles. 
It’s impossible.
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sideeve · 6 months
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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀( living with Mike Schmidt )
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— ★ Abby is his heart and soul. he knows if you’re a winner if she feels comfortable showing you her drawings.
— ★ i feel like American Idiot by Green Day is him and Abby getting ready for work/school. it’s a routine they built and can’t break out of it. so when you stay the night, you were shocked to see how quick they get out the house since Mike is always late to work.
— ★ if you can cook, you brought more meals on the menu and Mike can’t thank you enough. now, he doesn’t have to cook up some Chef Boyardee or order pizza. you were the only one they trusted in the kitchen.
— ★ weekly movie night was implemented on friday nights. you saw how much Abby and Mike were drifting away from each other so you took it upon yourself to make a movie night on fridays. the only problem is their choices. Abby would want to watch Coraline and Mike wanted to watch Megamind.
— ★ your first date was…something. Mike couldn’t really afford to go somewhere special so he found a recipe in one of the local libraries (the movie was set in like the 80s…) and cooked it up decent enough for it to be considered edible. (i’m joking, it was delicious) everything was good until—
“mike!” Abby yells from her bedroom. he was just in the middle of explaining something important to you, something he was passionate about. you could tell by the way he tried to hide his smile. but his sister comes first before anything. “Abby,” he whispers loud enough for only her to hear. “i thought i told you to keep quiet a bit. i have a date, remember?” she crosses her arms, “my tooth fell out.” “so? put it under your pillow and the tooth fairy will get it.” “that’s the thing! you told me that last time and i haven’t gotten five bucks! the tooth is still here!” shittttt. Mike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ll give you five plus more if you just keep quiet, okay?” Abby nods. “okay, good.” Mike starts to walk off before coming back. “how do i look?” he adjusts his collars. “like a million bucks.” Abby giggles, smiling, showing off her missing tooth. “sorry about that.” Mike clears his throat, sitting back at the dinner table. “no, no. that was actually cute.” you smile, you heart warmed by the brothers-sister relationship they had.
— ★ you help him sleep. now, he doesn’t need that bland nebraska poster, or that tape with nature sounds, or sleeping pills. he has you. and even the nights that you aren’t there, he would spray your favorite perfume on your pillow, hugging it close to you as if he were hugging you.
NSFW headcanons
— ★ he’s a switch. 50/50. i think his sex drive is normal if not low. he values romantic gestures than sexual gestures. but in the sex field, he’s both a giver and receiver.
— ★ let’s start with dom!mike. you’d mainly see dom!mike if it was a bad day at work or a long one. scenario; abby had been knocked out in her bed around bedtime. you technically had the house to yourself as you waited for mike to get home. finally, you hear a car pull in and the engine turn off. you could sense that it was him. you were expected a cuddle session until you both fell asleep. not you being bent over the couch, his fingers in your mouth to hush the moans escaping from your lips, fucking you like a rabid dog.
— ★ on the sub aspect, you have a whiny baby on your hands. begging and whining for you to let him cum. he pinky swears he’ll be a good boy. he whines, groans, begs. all of that. he begs so much that you have to put a hand on his mouth so he won’t wake up abby sometimes. if he’s pissed you off, you’d punish him by riding him but not letting him touch you and edging him so much that tears form at the waterline.
— ★ munch. munch! MUNCH!!! when he’s stuffed in between your thighs, he humps the edge of the bed, cumming in his pants. he’s too ashamed to let you know. he thinks it’s sick. he’s getting off by the taste of you, your sounds, and your juices dripping down his chin.
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taglist ;; @worldsgreatestsinner
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nanowrimo · 1 year
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4 Tips for Autistic Writers
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Autistic writers can face unique challenges when it comes to writing. NaNo Participant Auden Halligan has tips to handle some of those challenges!
So, you’ve just sat down at your desk, all ready to work on your next chapter, but you just can’t seem to start. Something is itching at your brain, and no matter how hard you think, you can’t figure it out. For autistic writers, that itch might be even harder to get around when compounded with autistic inertia, introspection issues, and sensory processing disorder — even if we were super excited to get started, sometimes the stumbling blocks are enough to keep us from going anywhere at all.
Here are four tips to identify your struggles and work around them rather than against them as an autistic writer!
1. Schedule your writing time appropriately
While keeping a schedule can help you stave off unwanted change in your routine, the need to switch to another task when the clock strikes the hour sometimes feels like a monumental task, one that eventually becomes detrimental to your creative pursuits.
If switching tasks is the biggest hurdle to your writing, setting a designated writing time with no other plans around it could do the trick. Oftentimes, just one hour of time to transition from doing dishes to sitting down at your computer to write is exactly what you need to get past that point and find your writing headspace.
2. Make sure your sensory environment is right
Sometimes getting into that writing headspace is harder than normal, but you can’t put your finger on a reason. Chances are, you’re not quite ready until you have your sensory needs met and you can fully focus on your story.
Personally, I like to be on the couch with my water bottle, a playlist at just the right volume, and a comfortable jacket or hoodie on. For you, the ideal sensory space might involve a desk and a snack, a pet nearby, and a quiet room. For others, it could be outside or even at a library or coffee shop. Autistic people are all different and so are their sensory needs, so this one is super subjective — do what works best for you!
3. Take breaks often
Writing can be exhausting, and if you’re struggling to keep going, you might need to take a pause. If you’re like me and struggle with remembering to hydrate and eat once you’re deep in a task, use your break to get some water and a snack. If you’re having trouble staying focused, get up and move around and stim or go outside to give your brain a reset. If you feel like you’ve gotten some good progress done, however small, reward yourself — do something related to your special interest, dance with a pet, and celebrate your little (or big!) win!
The pomodoro method is a good way to keep yourself from working too long without a break, and if that doesn’t work for you, methods like the Eisenhower method with breaks interspersed and even simply inserting breaks into your scheduled writing time are just as valid.
4. Don’t be afraid to skip around
Another thing that often trips us autistic people up is needing to follow the story down its natural progression, from start to middle all the way to the finish. But inevitably, once we’ve gotten past the initial excitement of having the project started, we hit a stumbling block…and the project gets abandoned. I’ve left behind countless projects because I lost interest after hitting a scene I wasn’t excited for after just a few chapters.
To combat this, try writing out of order! Skip ahead to the scene directly after your stumbling block. You could also skip to the next scene your favorite character is in or even to the climax if it helps you move forward. If you’re having trouble putting your first words down, try writing a random scene in the middle of your story to get into the groove of writing your characters.
Alternately, if you can’t abide by the out of order method and really need to get your characters from Point A to Point B, try putting the scene you’re stuck on in brackets. For example:
[Character 1 and Character 2 fight over the decision to kick Character 3 off the team. 2 leaves in anger.]
It’s simple, efficient, and gets you out of that particular rut so you can keep moving toward that sweet, sweet conversation you’ve wanted to write since Day 1.
Now go forth and write, my friends!
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Auden Halligan is a creator through and through. She’s been writing her entire life, but didn’t start participating in NaNoWriMo until 2017–right now she’s working on developing a TV series (or two!) and has several novels and short films in the drafting phase. Auden is currently a college student studying film production and hoping to minor in disability studies. You can find her on her very sparse Twitter at ink.and.spite. Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels
If you’re an autistic writer, check out the Pillow Fort in the NaNoWriMo forums! It’s a group for people who are neurodivergent, have disabilities, mental health concerns, or physical challenges that affect their lives.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.
Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.
Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).
Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.
Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.
Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.
Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.
Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.
Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.
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kyber-crystal · 4 months
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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hanasnx · 4 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
Showering with RAFE CAMERON always seems promising. The potential to be intensely romantic, stuck in a close and steamy location completely naked, washing and massaging each other, watching his dick physically fill out at the sight of your soapy tits. Instead, it’s cut and dry. Practically formal as he focuses on getting in and out. While he’s in the shower, he’s got a routine, a list of things he needs to complete and they have to be in order. The last thing he wants is a distraction, and he purely allows you in during his private shower time because “You’re like a dog, you know? You’ve got like… separation anxiety or something.”
Nevertheless you enjoy it. You listen to him when he directs you away from the faucet for his turn, you get a front row seat to how he scrubs shampoo into his hair and the suds run down his contracting muscles, sometimes he even lets you cling onto him. You wrap your arms around his waist as he rinses his conditioner, soapy bodies sliding against one another as you stamp your cheek onto his chest. Hot water runs down, warming the two of you as you share the faucet, and the remnants of slippery conditioner form a film on your skin.
What’s even rarer is when he’s in an uncharacteristically frisky mood during it. For the most part, showering is a utility, no room for fun. But a variation can be seen from time to time, taking advantage of his good mood. You can tell he wants it when he swats your little ass as you walk in, eyeing it up as it ripples from the impact, growling at the sight of it. He follows in right after you, keeping close behind you as you enter the stall, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t go first, he lets you do as you please, dunking your head under the spray to wet your hair, and he rubs circles into your hips. Brain— usually running wild with his extensive to-do list— is now empty, save for the image of fucking you right now, bouncing your ass on his cock. All he’d have to do is bend you down with a splayed hand on your back, give his dick a few yanks, and tuck it inside, he knows you’re slick enough. And if you’re not, getting fucked like he owns you will certainly do the trick.
“Rafe?” you call, snapping him out of trance but not freeing him of his dirty thoughts, drawing his lower lip between his teeth as he keeps his eyes on the curves of your backside. He hums, and you nod to yourself, having to keep your eyes closed to protect them from the shampoo that trails down your forehead. “You wanna rinse?” you ask politely, realizing how long you’ve been under the faucet for.
“Nah, baby, do what you need to do. Y’look damn good doing it.” Another swat to your ass deepens the blush of his handprint from earlier, and you squeak. “Fuck.” You wet your hair again, washing the suds down so you can see, but he’s already decided what he’s going to do to you. Big hand slots in between your legs, stooping to reach as his fingertips scoop, and brush your clit. You jolt from the sensitivity, unconsciously lifting your leg with a tilt of your hips to accommodate him. His middle finger passes through your slit, witnessing the moisture that’s already accumulated there. A little feigned gasp sounds behind you. “Princess, you’re so wet.” he murmurs the observation, like you expected something like this to happen. You brace against the tile, and try to look over your shoulder at him. “Can’t be walkin’ around like this acting like I’m not going crazy over here.” He chases your cunt as you squirm, using your slick to rub circles into your bud. That hand clamped on your hip yanks you back, controlling your escape from him as he mercilessly swipes at your clit. It makes your legs shake.
Only when your overcompensating pussy drips pre-cum down your thighs does he let up with driving your clit insane, diving two fingers into your hole without hesitation. You cry out, clawing at wall as your tits press into that cold tile. To get a better angle, he wedges his wrist in the crook of your ass cheeks, watching them jiggle as he sets the pace, slamming his fingers in to the hilt. Even though the shower’s running, he can still hear your cunt make music for him as he fucks it with his fingers.
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hotluncheddie · 3 months
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denny’s line cook eddie who always works the weekend night shifts. they start late enough to still let him still play gigs, awake and wired and needing something to fill his hands. every week though, he falls more and more in love with a boy that comes in late every saturday night. so late it’s almost morning.
he’s usually giggly and tipsy and flush, always sitting in the same booth with the same girl (maybe the coolest girl eddie’s ever seen). he always orders the same plate of pancakes and bacon and always closes his eyes so sweetly around his first bite. like he’d been thinking about it all night, like he couldn’t wait, like he’s starving.
eddie watches him, from his little window at the pass, watches him enjoy the food eddie made him. always in whatever club outfit he’d decided on that week, sometimes mesh shirts that show of the bit of softness at his middle. or with a hanky around his neck like a cowboy. or with glitter on his cheeks and shorts cut so high eddie’s left breathless over being able to see the squish of his thighs, the curve of his ass. sometimes though, it’s just a polo and jeans, and thats one of eddie’s favourites, it’s when he looked most comfortable.
every saturday eddie watches him have his fill, sit back in the booth and sigh. lay a hand on his stomach lightly, with delicate fingers and a wide palm. and eddie falls more in love.
he always watches the two leave, now quiet and sleepy after winding down for the night, and eddie sighs sadly every time, when he hears the bell tinkle and signal their exit.
he doesn’t even know his name.
steve 🥞
final <3
(this was gonna be a little thing for @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx 5+1 but then i decided it should just go here <;3 @pearynice & @scoops-aboy86 think u might like it too <3)
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viviennevermillion · 9 months
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love languages
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch
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✧ giving: gifts
As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.
Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?
He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.
So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."
✧ receiving: physical touch
One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.
He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.
He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.
Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.
He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.
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✧ giving: acts of service
Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.
He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.
Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.
If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.
"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.
Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"
✧ receiving: quality time
Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.
He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"
"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."
You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.
While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".
Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.
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✧ giving: physical touch
Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.
He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.
Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.
Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.
✧ receiving: quality time
Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.
When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.
You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"
He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.
He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.
Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."
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✧ giving: words of affirmation
When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.
He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.
Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?
Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.
✧ receiving: physical touch
Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.
He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.
Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.
One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.
He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.
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✧ giving: words of affirmation
March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.
March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.
"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"
Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."
Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.
Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.
✧ receiving: gifts
March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.
So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.
She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.
March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.
She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"
She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.
When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.
Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.
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✧ giving: quality time
Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.
They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.
But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.
You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."
Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".
✧ receiving: physical touch
Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"
Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.
"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."
Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"
"Affection." "Do it again."
One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.
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✧ giving: gifts
Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.
The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.
Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.
One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.
You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.
✧ receiving: quality time
Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.
They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.
Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.
"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.
Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.
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bratphilia · 6 months
Text
taboo (w. afton x reader)
note: eeee its here its finally here.
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), step-father!william/steve, creepy behavior from william, smoking, masturbation, absolutely cliche plot, daddy kink, vibrators, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex
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your mom left for the weekend to go on a small trip with her girlfriends. leaving you with him.
him being your weird, undeniably hot step-dad, steve. weird in the sense that he seemed to be out of touch with reality sometimes, erratic, and impulsive. you never quite understood how your mom stands him, but you can definitely get it looks-wise.
it's friday when your mom leaves, coincidentally the same time you had class, until around 7pm. you come back home around 7:30 to the smell of pizza. there's a box of it sitting on the island.
"steve?" you call out.
"oh, hey!" he says, he's watching tv with a beer in hand as he turns his head around to face you. "how was class? i took the liberty of ordering out."
you grab a paper plate left next to the box. "it was fine, boring lecture, though. thanks, by the way."
"no problem, kid."
kid. ugh, reality slapped you in the face. he's just not into you.
you sit on the opposite end of the couch, watching tv while eating your slice. you notice steve's leg bouncing up and down, clearly agitated or anxious about something. you decide not to say anything.
then, "hey, mind if i go out and have a cigarette?" he asks, already getting up to find his carton of cigarettes in one of the cabinets.
"oh, not at all..." you mumble mindlessly, not thinking much about it.
then he stops halfway from the glass sliding door. "wanna come with me?"
your brow furrows as you look up at him. "sure?"
he laughs a little. "c'mon, we can share it."
you gulp. you've never had a cigarette before. gingerly, you get up and follow him out the door. the backyard patio is a nice setup. there are two metal chairs with a table in between and the both of you sit across from each other.
you watch him as he lights the end of a cigarette and holds it between his pointer and middle finger while he inhales. he looks at you when he exhales with a look of amusement and you realize that you've been staring.
"nervous?" he asks.
"yeah, a little," you say truthfully.
"it'll be fine, just take it slow, alright?" he tells you, passing it over. your fingers brush slightly against his.
you look down at the cigarette, then bring it to your lips and inhale. the smoke is harsh and alien-feeling on your throat. then you feel overcome with an admittedly pleasurable buzz all over your body. it's strong enough that you can't feel your lips, and you don't trust your ability to speak either. you pull it out of your mouth and exhale, watching a cloud of smoke blow from your lips.
steve laughs. you must look visibly shaken. it takes everything in you not to cough, so you clear your throat quietly.
"like it?" he asks.
"y-yeah," you answer in a small, broken voice.
"i'm willing to share with you this weekend, but you absolutely cannot tell your mother. got it?" he says rather sternly. you nod in response.
the two of you finish the cigarette, passing it back and forth after your respective hits. he takes the deflated stick and throws it in a bush. "i'm going to head off to bed. goodnight."
"okay, goodnight," you call, following suit.
in the safe darkness of your room, you cover your mouth as you rub your clit with one pinching your nipple. you think about steve's hands doing this to you. in fact, you think about that a lot.
you think about his beard scratching against your soft skin. his scent, cheap cologne and cigarettes. you think about what he tastes like, the aftermath of smoking and a taste that's just exclusive to him.
you come thinking about it.
on saturday morning, you decide to take a bath to calm you down from how he had you all riled you up last night. you can't stop thinking about it, though. the small touch of your fingers brushing against his has you craving more.
"you absolutely cannot tell your mother. got it?" fuck.
your hand itches to touch yourself. you try to snap out of it by playing music from your phone, but nothing helps. at this point, you should just get out. there's no point anymore.
once the water is drained and you're out of the bathtub, your heart sinks.
there's no towels left.
fuck my life, you think. you quietly open the door and try to go unnoticed as you slip away into the laundry room, leaving puddles of water in your wake.
to make matters even worse, steve is there, seemingly repairing the washing machine while muttering curses to himself. you forgot he has a bachelor's in engineering. what do you even do in the situation?
"uhm," ask in a small voice, "are there... any towels i can use?"
"yeah, there should be some..." he trails off when he looks at you, then clears his throat, "...in the dryer."
steve drinks in your appearance. your young body is nothing compared to anything he's seen before, and it goes straight to his cock. he tries his best not to rake his eyes up and down your body, but you're from a distance that he can see your breasts when he looks you in the eye.
"here, i'll get one for you," he mutters, feeling very much like a creepy old man, and begrudgingly pulls his attention away from you and opens the dryer.
he stands to full height and walks towards you impossibly slow. you look up at him with a quivering lip. god, you're gorgeous, he thinks. he hands you the towel and pretends to get back to what he's doing.
while you're walking away, you can't help feel like you're being watched. and you're right, by the way. your whole body shivers.
you avoid steve the rest of the day, absolutely mortified.
on sunday, you're losing your fucking mind.
your personal vibrator sits between your legs and you're practically sobbing into your pillow. you've come at least three times so far. you just can't stop thinking about steve, and it almost hurts. not just from the overstimulation, but how wrong it is to feel this way about him.
you can feel the wet spot on your bed, from inside you and your own sweat. with an uncontrollably loud "ughhh" you come again for the fourth time. the door, thank god, is closed in the hopes that someone won't disturb you.
the noise of your vibrator and the noises you're making drowns out the sound of a knock on your door.
"just as i thought," steve says smugly.
you throw the pillow away from your face to reveal him standing in the doorway. your first instinct is to hide the vibrator in the sheet and cross your legs.
"uh-uh, don't do that," he says coldly, making his way towards you swiftly and sitting on the bed next to your legs.
he reaches over your body and snatches the vibrator and examines its wand-shaped figure intently. then he puts it in his mouth and moans at the taste, practically slurping up your juices. he pulls away muttering a "so sweet."
you feel like hiding your face back in the pillow when he looks at you. "what am i going to do with you, sweetheart?"
"please," you whisper, "i need you so bad, please."
and steve fucking laughs at you. "don't i know it."
he reaches a hand and feels the sheets, specifically the wet spots where you came multiple times. "what a mess you made," he says in mock astonishment, and he can't just be talking about the sheets.
you rub your thighs together and whimper, grabbing his attention. "can't believe you'd rather fuck yourself on this silly thing rather than just asking for what you want."
you want to roll your eyes. much easier said than done.
before you know it the vibrator springs to life with a low humming sound that makes your clit twitch. steve asks, no, commands you to "spread your fucking legs" for him. you do what he says embarrassingly instantly, but you can't find it in you to really care.
he teases you by running the vibrator up and down your slit, making your back arch. "please," you whine, drawing out the syllables of the word. 
"what do you need, precious?" he asks, cocking his head. 
you can barely speak. you grasp around his wrist trying to move his hand up north to your clit but his strength is unmatched. "gonna have to tell me what you want, beautiful. i can't read your mind." 
his pace and placement is set purposefully to tease you, to keep you on the edge waiting for what you want. you're too embarrassed to vocalize it.
"tell me, baby, i know what you want." 
you run your tongue across your lip. "need it on my clit, please." 
"yeah?" he uses his free hand to pull back the hold protecting your clit and moves the vibrator upwards so it hits on the sensitive nerves. "need it right here?"
"daddy! yes — ah!" you cry out in agony. it comes out before you can think twice. you've always refused to refer to him as "dad."
steve flashes you a wolfish grin. "oh, so now i'm your daddy, huh? wonder what changed." 
he moves the vibrator in tight circles. you moan out helplessly, gripping the sheets so hard that the threads might pull loose. and before you know it, you're squirting on his hand, the sheets, and even a little on his pants and shirt. 
"filthy thing, making a mess all over daddy," he tsks but doesn't pull the vibrator away from you.
"'m sorry," you mumble. 
he keeps the vibrator at your exposed clit. "love it so much, daddy!" you cry out drunkly. 
"yeah? love it so much?" he mocks your high pitched voice, pressing the vibrator impossibly hard against your clit and keeping it still there.
you're coming again, juices leaking out of your pussy. you thrash your head around when he doesn't let up. "daddy, please stop."
you try closing your legs around the vibrator and tugging at his wrist again but he simply opens your legs back up with those big hands. he decides you've had enough torture after another orgasm and turns off the vibrator, discarding it along with his clothes. 
steve climbs on the bed on his knees so he's placed above you. he takes both of your legs and throws them over his shoulders, plunging his cock inside you. he isn't gentle at all, nothing like you've imagined. he's fucking you roughly with reckless abandon.
"look at you, you fucking slut," he snarls at you, baring his teeth. "so horny over your step-daddy. disgusting." 
"yesss," you moan. "so horny for you, daddy."
he's chuckling breathlessly. "stupid fucking whore even knows it. isn't that right, sweetie?" 
you mumble an "mhm" that gets drawn out on a particularly hard thrust. his hips slam against your elevated ass and your arch your back, closing your eyes tightly. 
his cock is hitting a certain spot that has you moaning and crying out beyond your control. you can tell he's close as well as his thrusts are breaking their pattern. "tell me how much you want to come, baby."
"need to — ahn — come so badly, daddy!" you're surprised you can even speak at this point. 
steve places one of your legs down to free hus hand so he can rub at your clit in rough, side to side strokes. you're gone. coming with a loud "steve!"
he groans as his thrusts grow rapid for a brief moment. your body goes limp as you let him use your pussy to get off. he buries himself deep inside you and comes. spurts of his ejaculate shoot inside you and you moan, loving the feeling.
wordlessly, steve crawls on the space on the bed next to you and starts playing with your hair. you stare at the ceiling. "am i actually a slut?" you wonder out loud.
"no, honey," he sighs. "daddy just says things like that when he's riled up."
he pulls you in for an affectionate kiss, your first one together. it's slow, no tongue, but lasts long. 
"i'm going to head to the corner store and get you a plan b, then we can take a bath together when i get back. okay?" he tells you.
we. you like the sound of that. love it, even. 
"okay," you confirm, stomach fluttering at how nice he's being. 
on monday morning, you wake up to find the space next to you on your bed empty. he carried you to your room and you fell asleep on his chest after the bath. 
you walk down the stairs and two voices become audible. your mom is home. 
steve kisses her on the cheek. your blood boils and your fists clench as reality sets back in. 
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kaoyuuji · 1 month
Text
mascara .
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husband!t. fushiguro x f.reader headcanons ! — ˖⋆♱“it’s too bad.. you’re married to me.” ♱⋆‧₊˚ ⋅ !! S4Ws4w🪦
˖⋆♱ - Toji being a good husband was a surprise to many, except you. You knew since day one you’d crack the hard shell he desperately tried to contain. Truth be told he’s a softie deep down. (only for you ofc)
˖⋆♱ - When you’re around him his mind goes haywire. Since he met you, he started doing things he’d never even consider doing, like being overly protective over you, or caring about you in general. Considering his profession, he doesn’t have a heart for none. Then you came into his life. Now his chest feels tighter when he sees you with anybody but him, and he can feel the blood rush to his mind when your image triggers his senses.
˖⋆♱ - You’re not like anybody he’s ever met.. your beauty brings him to shambles and no matter how many years you’ve been wedded he is still amazed at how you bring his guard down. “i don’t know how you’re doing this woman, but don’t stop.” he’s thinking even when you’re doing the most casual thing, like a lil cuddle session.
˖⋆♱ - He lets all his actions speak for him. He’d do anything for his woman.. verbally, the most you’d get is the usual “I love yous,” ”You’re mine,” and a rare “You drive me crazy..”
˖⋆♱ - When it comes to nicknames he’s using them more than your regular name. “Woman,” “Kid,” “Baby,” “Crazy woman,” “My woman/girl.” Sometimes you wonder if he might’ve forgotten your real name…
˖⋆♱ - Mannn and the rock on your finger is the perfect symbol of your marriage. Nothing too big, a white gold diamond sitting in the middle with a shiny band to hold it. Toji has never been more proud to wear his ring too, a plain silver band with the date of yalls wedding ani engraved inside. Of course yours has the date engraved too, his orders.
˖⋆♱ - He’s never been fond of weddings, until he realized the day he loved you. Toji wanted to propose then and there… — He’ll never forget that day till the day he dies, it was the one day he’s never been more greatfull to be alive to witness the beautiful bride walk down the aisle to promise that you would be his until you both knock on deaths door.
˖⋆♱ - it’s safe to say you’ve managed to get the Toji Fushiguro smitten over you, not that it was hard to do that anyways. I mean look at you!
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— first time i’m writing in soooo long !! ofc i had to make a come back w my bbg toji >_&lt;
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arminsumi · 6 months
Note
Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (。>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm
"I'm your baby boy, right?"
GOJO さとる + fem!reader
Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.
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Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!
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Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.
But he's not.
Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.
And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.
It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.
"Do you think you're a cat or something?"
"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.
In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.
"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.
He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.
Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.
His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.
When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.
While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.
"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."
He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.
Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."
"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."
"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."
So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.
"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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tired-biscuit · 9 months
Note
farmer boy!kiri driving me insane as per usua
he’s everyone in town’s favorite guy!! big and dependable and so funny!! local housewives make it a point to wear their prettiest dresses to go and visit his stand at the local market.. but he doesn’t fall for it..
doesn’t fall for anyone until you move into town.. you work at the local bakery and sometimes visit him when the bakery needs an expedited egg delivery..
he’s so smitten with you, you’re pretty, smart and he can’t take his eyes off of you.. makes it a point to lift the heaviest things when you’re around in an effort to impress you..
little does he know how smitten you are with him.. how you purposely promote custards and egg tarts just so that your bakery needs more eggs and milk.. and you have an excuse to go see him again <3
all these meet-cutes until he finally works up the courage to ask you on a picnic.. where he lets you feel his muscles like you’ve been dying to from the start.. where he lets you take off his overalls and lifts up your skirt..
where the sun warms his and yours’ skin and where only the flowers know what happened next :3
(he ate you out and bred u <3)
18+ / fem!reader
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you’ve been dying to touch and feel his biceps for the longest time now because you’ve seen the way they tighten and turn exceptionally prominent whenever he picks up and tosses those big sacks of flour that you keep ordering for your bakery from him and him only.
he always greets you in the friendliest way possible whenever he swings by to deliver you the goods; a polite nod of his head and a warm “hey there, darlin’” never fail to make you weak in the knees. the combination of it, that’s sometimes even accompanied by a rather playful wink, turns your brain to goddamn mush. goodness, you’re so into him that it’s getting kind of absurd!
but to be fair, how couldn’t you be? he’s pure eye candy, with his sharp facial features, fiery eyes and messy hair of the exact same shade that he keeps tied back with the help of a single elastic, and that exposes the sides of his neck, as well as the nape, in the most delicious of ways.
his skin is tan and sun-kissed from many days spent working outside under the blazing sun, and his back is broad; he carries any kind of weight with seemingly no trouble at all. the faded, well worn jeans that he usually throws on whenever he drives to town make his ass and thighs look absolutely divine as they hang off his hips.
the sight of them makes you feel like a sleaze from the way they coax you to ogle at him so openly again and again. stealing glances as he moves around your little storage room where you keep all your ingredients, all you can see is his tight physique, his big hands, how appealingly thick his fingers are; coated with a thin layer of white powder coming from the flour.
he’s a working man, oftentimes dirty with sweat and grime whenever you just happen to be passing by his land and spot him coming back from the fields, but surprisingly enough, he keeps his nails clean whenever he comes to see you.
and it doesn’t stop just at the nails. even his face lacks the sheen of sweat his line of work usually tends to induce, because unbeknownst to you, he doesn’t leave the house before he scrubs it clean. his signature white t-shirts — each one usually adorned with a logo of his favourite sports team — are crisp and constantly smell of pleasant laundry detergent; like they’ve been freshly washed every single time. and if his hair just happens to be a mess that day — stubborn strands, bedhead and whatnot — he makes sure to hide it underneath his trusty baseball cap just so you don’t have to see it.
altogether, it shows that he’s trying to impress you. that he’s putting in the effort.
and that effort is almost enough to make an already smitten girl like yourself admit defeat and fold right then and there; in the storage room of your little bakery. to make you rest the flat of your palms against one of the shelves, and bend right over at the middle.
until the fat of your ass is peeking from underneath your pretty sundress, no panties in sight, and he’s got drool nearly dripping from his mouth at the discovery. until his fat cock is nice and snug, sheathed inside your soft cunt, and his heavy balls are tightening from the way you’re invitingly wiggling your hips against him and hurrying to make him all sticky and wet with your arousal so that he can slide in even further, even deeper.
just by looking at him, you know he’d fuck you nice and slow, and so deep that it’d make hearts form in your eyes right before they’d cross. quiet grunts would fill your ear, his breathing ragged as it tickles the side of your neck and cheek. his calloused hands would be warm against your hips; dusting flour over your dress and skin, and providing a steady weight that you could lean on and rest your tired body against any time you’d wish.
there’d be constant pressure in your lower belly — overhelming but the good kind nevertheless. the slapping of skin against skin, the stretch, the sweat coating both of your brows. the pounding, the pleasure, the passion that’d be so intense that you’d end up feeling it in the goddamn marrow of your bones even.
and then, the climax. the white noise and bliss as every nerve end buzzes with electricity that’s powerful but mellow at the same time. the feeling of warm cum eventually leaking from your poor little pussy, down your thighs, dripping onto the floor; causing a mess you both chuckle at whilst cleaning afterwards.
his forehead pressing against your spine as he hunches his back because of the prominent height difference and waits for his cock to slowly soften whilst it’s still inside of you, still stretching your velvety walls. your clothes sticking to your salt-riddled bodies as you attempt to catch your breaths and not say anything too brash or embarrassing to each other.
you want him to rail you and fuck your brains out in this tiny storage room so bad. he’s just such a… man. bulky and strong, simple and endlessly kind. his heart is as big as his tits are, and much like the rest of him, you can’t help but leer at them, too as the mixture of the summer heat and your baked delights turns too much for him to bare in that exact moment and he swiftly loses the crisp white t-shirt just so that he can survive it.
watching him as he throws it over his shoulder and keeps it there, you start to think that you could take such good care of him. that he could take such good care of you. you can already see it; a cozy house, a couple of kids. hard work, animals and endless love. fresh lemonade and cookies. creaky wooden furniture and movie nights on the world’s comfiest couch. domestic bliss.
he’s the type to kiss you goodbye and hello again whenever he walks through the front door.
your daydreams end abruptly when he tosses the last sack of flour onto the neat little pile and turns around to look at you with a face that’s all of a sudden vividly red like a tomato; from his neck to his forehead, from one ear to the other.
you’re still blinking, sweetly batting your eyelashes up at him by the time he finally gathers enough courage to ask you a question you’d thought you’d never get the chance to hear from him.
he wants to take you out on a date, huh?
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xlpoww · 7 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
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i really loved how bad for business turned out, and it seems you all did too!! so here's a continuation of the bfb universe/storyline :) it's not exactly a part two
warnings! jealousy (sanji's)
word count: 1,720
opla! sanji x f! reader
i actually took the time to reference back to this scene in the live action to make sure i got their orders right :) !! also hi i am alive !!! i just got busy with work- and i had a mini con to go to this weekend and i cosplayed nami! :D -> i have also been struggling with tremendous writers block, and was trying to force myself to write about zoro for days! but i couldn't, and i was frustrated with myself untill i rememebred this isnt a job, this is for fun for me and you guys. so i went back to some of the things i've written and felt like i could continue this one :) the story really flowed from there and i wrote a lot in a short span sooooooo &lt;3 ily all! thanks for reading as always <3333
sanji vinsmoke is jealous. 
the cook is used to woman falling at his feet, swooning over his flirty personality. either that or they get annoyed at him and clearly show disinterest. (oftentimes calling him names and sometimes resulting in him getting hit)
but you, the one girl he actually held a candle for, he couldn’t even seem to get a rejection from you. that would’ve made things so much easier for him and his heart. it’s gotten to the point he’s wishing you would tell him you don’t return his feelings. sure it would hurt in the moment, but at least he could have (hopefully) forced himself to move on.
but no, you won’t reject him; nor will you swoon at his advances. they seem to roll right off you like beads of rain on a window. never a hint of blush on your cheeks, no angrily quirked brows. how was he meant to understand? there are two reasonable reactions to such a forward man, either interest or not. how do you manage to toe the line so perfectly?
it drove him mad, not only were you horribly hard to read, every once in a while you would flirt aggressively back at him. it would always catch the poor boy off guard, leaving him stunned and blushing standing wherever he was. oftentimes you did it right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving him to deal with the playful teasing of the other workers, walking off to continue doing your job. 
you would be the death of him surely.
especially when the sight of you smiling so sweetly at that stupid swordsman causes a painful squeeze in his chest. his grip on the tray he was holding is bruising, and there’s a jealous rage brewing inside of him.
-
“hello my name is y/n, and i’ll be your waitress today. can i start you guys with any refreshments?” you flip over a page on your notepad, ready to write down the group's requests. what a charming bunch they were, with just a glance you could tell they really cared for one another.
“i’ll take a beer,” the green haired man speaks up, and you nod with a smile.
“i’ll take two beers, i normally have three but..” he trails off as the woman at the table speaks up.
“i’ll take a water.”
“and a glass of milk!” the endearing boy with a straw hat adds on, his words are muffled by the bun he was still chewing. when coming to greet them you’d brough over a basket of perfectly warmed buns with butter. nodding at them all, your pen into your apron as you repeat back to them. 
“three beers, milk and water, coming right up you guys.” you step back with a bow, turning towards the kitchen. doing so you notice your best friend is glaring in your direction, and as you walk back you tilt your head at him. when you get closer you realize his glare wasn't directed towards you, but the swordsman you had taken the order from. he doesn’t even seem to pay you any mind as you approach him, too focused on the table you had just walked away from. when you reach him where he stands in front of the doorway, you snap your fingers in his face. it seems to snap him out of it, and he looks down at you with a charming smile.
“hello my love, what can i do for you?” his hand is placed on your shoulder sweetly. the touch warms your body, but you shake it off to cross your arms. 
“what’s up with you, why were you glaring at my table? do you know them?” you gesture back towards your table, and a flush washes over his face when he realizes he’d been caught. he straightens his tie in an attempt to shake off his shame,
“not a clue who they are darling.” your eyebrow raises in suspicion, you’re not buying it. he seems to know you won’t, and he tucks his hand into his pockets as he shrugs.
“you just glare at people you don’t know now sanj?” a pout forms out of frustration. while you were wondering why he was lying to you so blatantly, he was internally swooning at how adorable you looked in that moment, and the sweet way you'd shortend his name. the grip you had over his heart was the strongest in all the seas.
“don’t worry, pretty lady, it’s nothing. now if you’ll excuse me i’ve got my own tables to wait on.” he’s internally scrambling to figure out how to distract you from what he was caught doing, in a moment of boldness (or a crazy attempt to change the subject), he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.
the action causes your eyes to almost bulge out of your head as you begin to blush. a smug smile forms on sanji’s face at the sight, he’d never felt more accomplished than he did in that moment. not only had he distracted you, he’d made your face light up all pretty and embarrassed. he winked at you before brushing past you to do his job, pushing open the swinging door into the kitchen behind you.
you’re left in shock trying to wrap your brain around his actions, ‘what had gotten into him?’ as bold and flirtatious as he was, you would have never expected a display like that in front of all the customers.
oh shit, the customers. ‘had anyone seen that? oh gods.’ your hands clench into fists as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality and calm down, and you push past the doors of the kitchen. your eyes are focused on the ground as you collect the drinks needed for your table, placing them all on a tray and balancing them on one hand. you take a moment to breathe in and compose yourself before walking back out into the dining room. 
you eyes scan the room and find your favorite blond waiting on a table on the opposite side of the room of your own. his location makes it easy to return to the table without incident, placing down the three beers before the milk and water. with a smile, you tuck the tray under your arm and pull out your notepad again to continue taking their orders. maybe doing your job could distract from the rapid beating in your chest.
“you guys decided on food yet?” 
“one of everything!” the boy with a straw hat speaks up, and you quirk your eyebrow. they didn't look like the big spenders you were used too, but it wasn’t really your place to mention that. your smile never slips as you nod, writing it down and once again bowing before you leave. by your luck sanji seems to be waiting for you at the doorway of the kitchen. so much for the idea you had to avoid him until you’d calmed down.
he holds his hand out, offering to take your tray from you. his kind offer brings a smile to your lips, and you decide to shove down whatever inner turmoil was happening and act like what he did hadn’t happened. (he sure was.)
“any interesting orders?” he smiles, quirking a brow at you as you offer him your serving tray. you laugh, holding out your notepad to show him where you had written down ‘one of everything’ sanji’s heart squeezes at how cute your handwriting is, and he can’t help the chuckle. “well it looks like you’ll need some help taking out this order then, love.” the pet name causes the usual skip in your heartbeat, and you smile, nodding in acceptance of his offer for help, pushing past him into the kitchen to get your cooks started on the order of everything.
-
the food gets taken out in waves, sanji always accompanying you with an extra plate or two. the table is rather nice about it, they’re always caught up in conversation. even still they thank you for every plate you place down, they seem like genuine people. it warms your heart to see such a close group of friends. 
you can’t help but notice the way sanji doesn’t even pay the girl at the table any mind, too busy glaring at the green haired man, his hands lingering on your shoulder or back longer than they needed to. how he’d managed to add on to his unusual behavior, you wouldnt understand.
not that he really had any reason to be placing a tender hand on your back while you were serving guests. the third time it happens you turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he turns to smile down at you sweetly, his hand on your back rubbing up and down. you look at him incredulously, sanji steps back, bowing before walking back towards the kitchen. before he left his gaze lingered on the man longer than should have been acceptable. you have to hold back a frustrated huff, turning back to the table with a plastered smile
“don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything! i hope you enjoy your meal.” you finish off the sentence with a bow, turning to look at the swordsman when he speaks up with a snort. “are you sure, wouldn’t want to make your busboy anymore jealous than he already is?” your eyes widen in confusion, not only at the notion, but the unnecessary insult towards your sanji.
“whatever could you mean.” the whole table turns to you, and the redhead quirks a brow at you, adding on.
“you’re not really that clueless, are you?” your mouth drops open, and a blush begins to cover your cheeks.
“no, i didn’t think i was.”
and then you’re even more confused. what reason would he have to be jealous over you and a random guest? it’s not like the man had even given you the time of day, or you’d even wanted it?  all you’d done was take his orders. 
the thought feels so impossible, even so it has already quickly begun eating away at your brain and heart. it was the only logical explanation for all his odd behaviors tonight.
sanji vinsmoke, was jealous. over you.
taglist: @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @teenyforestfairy @gothicuwusposts @cheesesoda @scentisterror @shuujin @gcldtom
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