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#with all the innuendo that implies
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5.03 Free to Be You and Me & 9.11 First Born // they aired this on television
#tw implied sa#thesis statement: supernatural treats the brothers like women#yes that sounds batshit when I phrase it like that but. demons always going hand in hand with sex and violence (and those combined)#and angels are sexless and pure (aside from all the times they don't do that which is usually female angels of course)#and the brothers are always victimized by demons who are being sexually aggressive. ruby and meg and abbadon for women#fascinating how they reverse the roles (also because women on this show have to be evil) but in a misogynist way still#but then crowley's constant innuendos to dean and alastair calling him daddy's girl/also innuendos and etc. for men#and the show frames these scenes with the brothers the way it might frame women who are being assaulted#it's uncomfortable for the characters and the audience but they never put a name to it#like. dean especially treats women the way demons treat the brothers. dismissively sexually and a little uncomfortably#conclusion: supernatural treats antagonists like sexually aggressive men and the brothers like victimized women#supernatural#spn#spnedit#spndaily#supernaturaldaily#supernaturaledit#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural gifs#supernatural edit#spn gifs#spn edit#spn edits#tvgifs#tvedit#I can't not talk about the specific ass way they wrote and shot and framed these scenes#'you know you want it sam' // two guys hold him down shove demon blood down his throat and then drop him when they're done#'go ahead/doing great' // dean is being held down by two demons and looks over at cain#my edits
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jensensitive · 7 months
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i'm doing a drowley rewatch, and i'm only on the second episode, but sam just said "because we trust him now?? Like I trusted Ruby??" ahhHHHDSJHSD??
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cosmicanakin · 1 month
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⎯ ⊱ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒!
Part 1 of Satiated Desire.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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Pairing. Dean Winchester x Female Reader.
Outline. Where you accidentally give Dean a hard on during a hunt.
Warning(s). Sexual tension, Strong Language, Sex innuendos, & Implied Smut.
Word Count. 207
Authors Note. He's been running on my mind all day and I needed to let my thoughts run wild. So enjoy — you'll definitely thank me later! 😉
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The hunt had taken an unexpected turn, leaving you and Dean pressed up against each other, your back flush against his chest. You shifted slightly, trying to get a better vantage point, when you felt Dean's grip tighten on your hips, holding you in place.
"Dean, what—" you began to ask, but the words died on your lips as you felt something hard pressing against you from behind. Your eyes widened in realization, heat creeping up your face.
"Shit, Y/N, I'm so sorry," Dean murmured, his voice strained. "I-I didn't mean for that to happen."
You whisper to Dean in his ear, "We'll deal with this after the hunt, okay?"
He nodded mutely, your heart racing, already imagining ways to help him with his...situation. A small smile played on your lips as he replied, "You're the best, Y/N," he murmurs, hearing the mix of relief and anticipation in his voice.
"Of course, Dean. I've got you."
Dean let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.
With that, the two of you turned your focus back to the hunt, both eagerly awaiting the chance to properly address the growing tension between you.
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cloverfarm · 2 months
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— read you like a book
sdv!harvey x f!reader
rated e - 5k
Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, mention of alcohol, flirting, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral sex, vaginal fingering, implied squirting, multiple orgasms
A/N: had the thought that Harvey would know just how to take care of you, and wanted to explore that idea (and still deep in my Harvey-is-a-dirty-talker era)
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” Harvey rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
“I was thinking-,” A finger slips beneath the band, testing the elastic. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
(Or - Harvey overhears about your past lackluster experiences, and can’t help wanting to lend a hand)
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There’s the clack of pool balls colliding in your corner of the Stardrop Saloon. The jaunty piano music muted, your fingers wrapping around a sweat-dewed glass.
A late-night Friday evening, the conversation already turning debauched as your off-handed remark of feeling frustrated was quickly misinterpreted and took another turn. Spiraling away from you, with their overlapping ideas.
Your nose crinkling with a suggestion to use the community board, one that has them bent-over with laughter - you could only imagine the shock at seeing such a message.
Help Wanted: Farmer looking to get ploughed. Used to getting a little dirty. If interested, please call…
“Could use an app. Been a while, but I used to do that.” Shane’s wiggles his phone at you, keying in the website for FerngillFlings. Flashing the front page at you, all while you try to ignore the clench of jealousy that flares to life in your stomach.
Sam leans over you, squinting at the screen, “You can’t tell me that works. Your matches come all the way out here?”
“Sure do.” Shane’s shoulder lifts in a shrug, from where his arm rests on the couch behind you. “Haven’t heard any complaints.”
The double-innuendo isn’t missed, your tongue poking into your cheek as your head shakes in exasperation.
“Haven’t heard, or haven’t listened?” Abigail shoots back with a smirk, and he rolls his eyes at her in response.
“Any matches from here?” You can’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him in curiosity.
He slumps a little further in his seat, knee knocking against yours, “Wouldn’t you like to know, farm girl?”
Thick fingers curl around the can before it lifts it to his lips, hiding his own smirk as you stiffen beside him.
Shane infuriated you. Always teasing, never answering a question directly. Deflecting a sly comment with a dry one of his own, until you weren’t sure where you stood with him.
You’d given up a while ago.
Your heart now quite taken with another.
“I think we’d all like to know.” Abigail chimes in, and you send a grin her way.
“I thought we were still talking about Miss Grange Queen?”
Your look turns apologetic - you know Pierre has been prepping all week as well - but she brushes it off, “I don’t care. Honestly, I hope you win this year. But he is right…”
A chipped polished nail taps her lip, before she fixes you with a look of concern, “When was the last time you got laid?”
The gulping swallow of your drink goes down wrong, making you splutter. A solid hand thumps you on the back, as your palm swipes across your mouth.
“What?” You manage, through watery eyes.
“Okay, we definitely gotta know.” The hand still rests against you, pinned against the plush cushion of the couch. Fingers tapping expectantly between your shoulders.
Yoba almighty.
You know they won’t back down. Even Sam lingers, eyebrows raised as his hip rests against the edge of the pool table.
“It’s been… a while.” You hedge, glancing around the room before you can answer. Voice lowering - not worried about the bar, it’s too far away.
More concerned about the booth that sits just across the room. Occupied when you arrived - your gaze flicking to Elliot often as he had sat alone, waiting.
Knowing who would be coming - a little flip in your stomach with Harvey arrived late, red-cheeked from the run, the novel pinched between his fingers.
You thought it was cute. Their little weekly book club. On another night you would have hoped to eavesdrop - figure out what the choice was for this month.
“You talking weeks? Months?” Sam asks, ignoring the glare from Sebastian, the hip check that follows - indicating his turn.
“Pre-farm,” Your head shakes, “Two years, maybe?”
“Years?” Abigail screeches, as your eyes widen - a hand coming to press unconsciously against a burning cheek.
Unable to help the sidelong look at the table across the way. The heat in your cheek rising to your ears when your eyes meet hazel ones, before you’re dropping your gaze.
“It’s not worth it,” You try to rein them in, all but pleading, “It’s not like it’s all that satisfying either, you know?”
“You mean you don’t…?” Abigail suggests - looking at you dubiously, and even Sebastian is turning to give you a pitying look.
“I mean… sometimes, I guess?” Your shoulder lifts, and then drops, “It’s not a big deal.”
You could get there yourself just fine. Have certainly managed, with your current dry spell. Before, you sometimes would afterwards - alone - easing the unresolved pleasure that licks in your belly.
But you’re sure it wasn’t the same as having someone there with you. Having their focus so solely on you.
It’s not something you’re about to explain. This has gotten too deep. You’re used to the tales of Shane’s old one night stands. The occasional complexities that come from Sam and Abigail both dating the same person, but these talks rarely focus on you.
“What kind of guys are you fucking?” Shane asks bluntly, making you gasp.
“Normal guys.” You hiss, “Besides, it’s probably just me.”
Taking a sip of your drink then to deflect, the sharp flavor making you cough.
“You don’t starfish, do you?” Sam pipes up, helpfully.
It has you almost choking again.
Shane smirks, “Maybe it is you, Farm Girl. Should have someone here take a look-”
You miss the end of his comment with the sudden, loud scrape of wood. Heads turning to where Harvey half-stands, his chair pushed back. Staring your way, with lips parted and brow furrowed.
“You got something to say, Doc?” Shane scoffs, his voice a little too loud.
Harvey blinks, and reddens. Coming back to himself, a sharp click of teeth as they close - swiping his half-full glass from the table.
Mumbling something about needing a refill - before his head is dipping, and he makes towards the bar.
Your eyes follow him, before your hand is scrubbing over your face - the heels pressing into your eye sockets. And finally, mercifully, the subject is changed, a collective groan as Sam accidently knocks two stripes in the corner pockets.
But even as the evening fades - you can’t quite shake Harvey’s expression from your mind.
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The air is cool, hinting at the coming frost. Your jacket shrugged on as you step outside, before plunking down on the cobblestone path outside of the Stardrop.
It’s dark, late. The scattered streetlights outside offering pockets of the town, the rest cast in hazy shadow.
There’s a flare of light to your side. Sebastian sneaking out for his smoke break, now that Robyn and Demetrius have called it a night. You sometimes go with him, keeping silent company.
Content to let your legs dangle, to listen to the croak and groan of the frogs near the river. To let your mind wander.
Tonight though, it’s still so singularly focused.
You don’t feel embarrassed about what you said, only that he overheard it. Harvey had so much of his life together - surely a man who was there to discuss books and drink wine would not want to spent his evening listening to the lewd gossip of folks younger than him.
What if he took your words to heart, and thought you were not interested? What if he thought you weren’t good? A sigh to yourself then, as you pull yourself together with a reminder. Not that he thinks anything of you.
But… you admit that you had hoped.
It’s only now that you hear voices just down the path, two friends bidding goodbye. That shade of green you’ve come to associate with Harvey has your ears pricking up - catching where they linger, near the park benches.
Bravery steeling itself, in your belly.
“I’m gonna head out,” You hear yourself saying, as you push to your feet, “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.”
“You sure?” Sebastian asks, with a smoky exhale.
“Yeah.” It’s distracted. Giving him a wave, just as you skirt around the door that opens behind you.
Missing the pair of eyes that follow you as you leave.
Too far out of earshot to hear the murmured words, as he exhales another held drag from his cigarette, “You’re missing your chance, man.”
And then the answer, growled out as Shane’s hands shove deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket.
“Never had one.”
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“Harvey!” You call out, as he splits from his companion.
Missing how Elliot settles amongst the trio of benches, his book cracking open to finish the chapter under the streetlight.
Harvey lingers, in the middle of the cobblestone path. His expression almost wary, your explanation coming in a rush.
“I am sorry if we made you uncomfortable.” Your hands clasp together, fingers twisting, “We should’ve been more considerate. You and Elliot were there first.”
His expression clears at that, a slight mark between his eyebrows. He’s tall, you’re realizing. Not that you didn’t know, not that you haven’t stood next to him on occasion.
But your heart had never quite pounded like this, never so acutely aware of your proximity - too used to the barrier of the counter in his office.
“No, uh, not at all. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” Harvey clarifies, his voice soft, “I certainly didnt mean to try to interrupt. I’m afraid that was rude of me.”
His answer sends your mind careening into overdrive. Not quite taking his half-hearted excuse earlier, but too wrapped up in your embarrassment to truly process it.
That has you thinking - realizing that he had some sort of intention. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, unable to help but wonder.
“Can I ask you something?” Your eyes search his, voice quiet in the night, “You don’t have to answer.”
The slight curve of his lips fall, an almost uneasy look passing his features - though he does not deny you, “If you’d like.”
“What were you going to say?” You ask him “Back in the bar. You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”
Your words hang, for a moment. And then silence, enveloped by the soft sounds of the night.
“Oh.” He hedges, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “It’s, ah… it’s just a shame.”
Your eyebrows lift, worry flooding through you as you wonder what he means.
“That you haven’t had a more… positive experience.” He finishes lamely.
The worry transforms, turning into a heated curiosity.
“Why would it be a shame?”
The shade of pink deepens across his cheeks, hidden in the shadows. A finger unconsciously hooking around his collar and tugging.
“Because there’s no reason satisfaction can’t be mutually inclusive,” He manages, “From uh, the point of view of a medical professional.”
Your lips press together to hide your laugh, charmed by his careful answer, “How I wish that were true.”
And that had him fixing on you, catching you in the brunt of his gaze, “It could be. Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”
It makes your breath catch. That hope flaring to life again. Reading into his meaning, daring yourself to ask, “Is that right? You know anyone around here?”
Only to watch the way his face goes carefully blank - his words slow, “I’m sure… I’m sure you don’t need my help to find out.”
It’s hard not to feel disappointed. Hoping that there was an offer, woven into his words. The bit you had clung to leaves you, with the next exhale of your breath.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Your smile is small. Deflecting with a joke, because it’s all you know, “I don’t starfish, by the way. If you heard that part.”
He huffs a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I didn’t think you did.”
The look he gives you is at odds with his hesitance in answering. A soft, amused smile that makes your heart flip.
Yoba, you have it bad.
“Goodnight, Harvey.” You smile back - intent on ending the night before you make it worse, “And, thank you.”
His answer echos yours, his feet firmly rooted as you disappear into the night. Silence lingering under the soft glow of the street lamp, as his mind races.
“If you were looking for an invitation, old friend,” An amused voice comes from the benches - where Elliot still sits, his book long forgotten.
“That was it.”
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The television blares as you stretch out on the couch - intent on unwinding a bit further, after a long day. Immediately stripping down to your loungewear as soon as you stepped in the door, cracking a window to let in the autumn air.
Your head rests on a pillow, an old quilt pulled haphazardly around your hips as you watch a rerun of The Queen of Sauce - something that fortunately required little attention.
Because your mind is occupied elsewhere, thinking back to the square with both chagrin and disappointment. Hoping that maybe Harvey had drank more wine than you thought - that maybe he wouldn’t remember how you all but threw yourself at him.
Gentleman that he is, he probably just wouldn’t bring it up in the first place. You don’t know if that’s more preferable, or less - perhaps you owe him yet another apology.
A timid knock at the door draws your attention, your feet silent as you slip from the couch. You really should move it - giving yourself a view of the small, narrow porch. Maybe installing another light outside.
But this was Pelican Town, you remind yourself - you’re not in the big city anymore. It was probably Abigail, not wanting to head home yet.
For now, you move to the door, pausing to shrug on the worn, plaid barn coat that hangs by the door, buttoning it in an last-minute attempt at modesty.
Your hand on the frame of the door as you crack the front door open, close enough to grab the old wooden bat you have tucked next to the rickety side table.
Eyes going wide when you realize who it is.
Harvey. His face half-turned away, looking like he’s second-guessing himself from your delay - half-way ready to book it down the steps that lead to the packed dirt road.
“Hi again,” You nudge the door open wider, leaning against the frame.
He turns back, surprise crossing his features again when he sees you. Eyes dipping down, snagging - slowly dragging back up over the bare skin of your legs, the low dip of the collar, as if he has forgotten himself for a moment.
“Hi.” He answers belatedly, blinking as he comes back into the present.
You wait a beat for him to explain, for any sort of sign as to why he’s here. Wondering why he travelled all the way in near-darkness, you knew more than anyone what a trek it could be.
And he must realize, because he blinks again, worry pulling down the edges of his brows, a small crease appearing in the middle.
“I-, well, Elliot-,” Harvey begins, throwing a thumb over his shoulder into the darkness, his other hand still clutching the book from the Saloon. Starting over when he realizes he’s making zero sense, “Back, in the square.”
His lips pressing together for a moment, an inhale of breath before the words rush out, “Am I misreading this?”
An emphasis on ‘this’, a small gesture with his fingers between the two of you. It makes you smile, relief flooding through you - enough to where you’re reaching out, tapping a fingernail against the solid cover of the book.
“I think you’re reading this just fine.” Your head tilts up to look him in the eye, seeing the relief on his own features as well, “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes,” He breathes, and you’re stepping aside with a smile - taking his book from him to rest on the little side table.
Hanging his moss-green jacket on your one good hanger by the door, showing him where to put his shoes.
Steps that make the floorboards creak because he doesn’t know which ones to avoid - not yet - as he lets you guide him to the couch. Carefully sitting on the middle cushion, the sharp, white starch of his dress shirt standing out against the worn, rust-orange fabric.
Your own feet following until you’re standing in from of him. Not quite believing, as your face tilts down to meet the upturned angle of his own.
Harvey was here.
The man who got more than a little bossy with you when you came in to the clinic with a bad scrape, or a cold. Who always has a smile, who listened intently when you keep him up to date about the new crops you’re growing, even though he knows nothing about farming.
Who you never had let yourself daydream about too often, because he had always kept you at arms length. You had always thought it was part of his profession, or that perhaps he just didn’t see you like that.
Like he’s looking at you now - like you’ve hung the stars.
You really want to kiss him.
You hope he’ll let you.
Slowly, like when you’re approaching a new calf, you move toward him. The slight, automatic spread of his knees as you step between them, before your own knees are bending.
Hands resting on the wooden frame of couch as you lower yourself - until you’re straddling his thighs, bare knees pressing into the worn cushions on either side.
“This okay?” You ask, close enough to smell a hint of his aftershave, the solid weight of him beneath you.
Hands that slide from their place at his side, up the curve of your calves, until they’re resting on the bare expanse of your thighs.
“Yes.” The word comes out low, fingers pressing against your skin as your own drop to the thick buttons of your coat, slowly working each one open.
Until you’re shrugging the fabric off to pool on the wooden floor - all bare arms and legs beneath in your too-large t-shirt, a pair of cotton underwear.
About to apologize for your choice in clothing - never actually expecting to take someone home - but the hands rise, cradling your face as he tips it to meet his.
A low sound in your throat at his lips touch yours, your hands resting on his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric. A feather-soft brush until you shift, pressing yourself against him as you lean in.
His groan matches yours. Hands moving, skating down your arms, curving around your hips. Your hips roll on their own, seeking the friction of his trousers. Something warm pooling in your belly, when he deepens the kiss.
Encouraging you, as those hands guide the roll of your hips again. As his tongue brushes against lips that part without thought.
There’s the sharp punch of fruit on his tongue, paired with the taste of him. A heady mixture, making you feel like you could get drunk off just this.
You can feel him harden beneath you. Pressing against your cleft as your thighs inch further apart. It’s only when your hands leave his - reaching for the bottom of your shirt, that he breaks away.
His lips kiss-swollen and pretty. Disheveled, his tie crooked, shirt wrinkled from your fingers. Equally dazed, his eyes flicking down to your mouth, and then further again.
“Not here.” Harvey’s voice is a low rasp, unmoving despite his demand.
It has your pausing, until you catch the way his first two fingers slip under the hem, petting against skin.
“Bedroom?” You offer, and he’s smiling. Leaning forward to kiss you again. Easing you off him but it’s reluctant - his fingers twining with yours as you stumble into the next room.
It’s darker in there, the light from the television flickering against the floor. Dissolving as it reaches your bed, your knees parting this time as he stands between them.
Your eyes greedy, focused on his fingers as he loosens his tie, the first few buttons of his shirt. His own drifting over every inch and curve of you. A short intake of air as you tug the shirt from your shoulders, leaving it to drop on the floor.
It feels like you’re on display, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not with the way he looks at you - his eyes snagging on the damp patch between your thighs, the pale fabric darkening with your arousal.
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” He rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
You’re near-mute. Left nodding, as the bed dips. As he urges you back into the pillows, folding himself onto the mattress with you.
“I was thinking-,” He tests the band, a finger slipping beneath. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
You feel yourself clench down around nothing. A low whine in your throat at the tone of his voice. So matter-of fact. Like he knows how to do just what he says.
“Can you?” It comes out strangled, your breath held as his eyes fix on yours, “Could you show me? What it’s like to be taken care of?”
“Would you like that, sweetheart?” He asks - his gaze searching. Slipping a second finger under, the blunt nails grazing sensitive skin.
“Yoba.” Your hips feel like they lift on their own, seeking him, “Yes. Please, yes.”
He smiles again, the moonlight catching on his glasses. A hand running through tousled curls, mussing them further. Fingers joining yours as your panties join the floor, baring yourself fully.
You expect him to touch you and he does - but not in the way you’re thinking. Lowering himself next to you, guiding your mouth to his again. His hand skimming the inside of your thigh. Fingers slipping along the crease where it meet your hip, inches away from where you ache for him.
“Harvey.” You sigh into his mouth. Chasing it when he pulls back, hearing the pleased hum in his throat. Carefully removing his glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket.
Then his mouth is dropping to your neck, where your pulse flutters. To your shoulder. All while his fingers trace your skin, making you squirm in anticipation.
When his tongue peeks out to brush against tight, peaked nipple, you hear yourself cry out. Clinging to him again, as teeth graze against your breast - followed by a soothing kiss, his mustache tickling against the soft curve.
“I need you to touch me,” You pant.
Long forgetting what it was like to feel like this. The anticipation swirling in you like a dam about to burst. The desperation - knowing after all this time of wanting him, that tonight he is yours.
Your own hands grasping at him - tugging at the buttons. Pale skin and dark hair appearing with each one that loosens, trying to pull the hem from where it tucks into his trousers.
The hand against your thigh twitches, his gaze dark as he glances up at you. No longer hidden behind frames, you can see how his pupils are blown wide, inching out the hazel.
“I just want to make sure you’re ready, sweetheart.” He rasps, inching closer - fingers parting on either side of your mound.
“Want you nice and wet for me.”
It’s too much. You’re too wound up, needy. In your daydreams you’ve thought of him - in your bed, bent over the table in his office. Everything pales in comparison to this, turning you into a begging mess.
“I am,” You breathe, “Fuck, Harvey. You know I am, I’m-”
The words break off, turning into a ragged moan as he finally touches you. Parting your slick seam, where you’re dripping from the press of his mouth and the teasing glide of his fingers.
“There you are.” He hums, though you can feel the way his hips press against yours. Chasing his own urges, seeking friction where he strains.
Your eyes flutter half-shut as he teases as your entrance. Fingertips slick as he brings them up to circle your clit, sparks going up inside your belly.
Watching as he moves, the careful ease from where he lies next to you - now settling between your thighs.
“Yoba, you’re beautiful.”
He says it so simply, almost as if in awe. Your thighs start to clamp shut around his hand but he’s smiling - his left palm pressing your leg to the bed, opening you further.
Not used to his gaze like this. It flicks from your face, down to where his hands shift - his thumb rolling against your clit, as his middle finger sinks inside you.
He can feel how you clench around him already. Movements slow, drawing himself out just to sink further each time.
“So fucking pretty.” He says it again - you think, just to see you squirm. The way your eyes pull from his, the flex of your muscle under his palm.
Transfixed by the way his fingers move. The pressure against your clit, the way he presses deep. Your small room filled with the little sounds you make and the slick plunge of his finger.
Your panting breath catching, turning sharp as his finger crooks on the next pass. Carefully stroking against your inner walls, a throb of pleasure following.
He catches your sounds, a mark forming between his eyebrows. One you’ve seen before, in the way he focuses when you’re explaining something about your farm. A sweet stretch of pressure when he adds his ring finger, opening you further as he strokes again.
You haven’t felt anything quite like this. A ghost of it, with past lovers. Something that made your muscles tighten, but never so focused.
Like he’s intentionally searching for this spot that makes sparks arc up your spine. Making you ache for more - to be filled by him.
“Mm,” He hums with satisfaction, “Right there. Does that feel good?”
It’s hard to think, with the thrust of his fingers. The circling pressure against your clit. Your own fingers curling - one in the sheets, an anchor. The other drifting up to cup at your breast, unable to help leaning into his ministrations.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
There’s an edge to his voice. One that he uses in his place of authority, one that only stokes the roaring flame in your belly. Everything winding tight in anticipation, each steady pump of his fingers hurtling you towards your peak.
“Yes,” You moan, “Yes. Oh, Harvey-”
His head dips, mouth pressing a kiss against your abdomen.
“Good girl.” He husks, with your answer. The words shoot straight to your cunt, just as you begin to arch into his touch.
“Oh, please-” You whine, eyes sliding shut, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
The pinch of your fingers harsh against the tight bud of your nipple. The flicker of pain melding with the tight swirl of his thumb.
“Good.” He all but growls, the words low and rough in his throat, “Come on, honey. Show me.”
Your next moan turns high and long - as that tight string inside you finally snaps. A throbbing pleasure that begins at the apex of your thighs, radiating outwards as you bear down around him.
The hand in your sheets grasping and slipping on your way to him - his hand leaves your thigh to twine with it. Anchoring you as your hips buck into fingers that have gone still, giving you something to clench around.
“Just like that,” He coos, “Ride it out, I’ve got you.”
His breath warm against your skin, a kiss pressed to your stomach again, then hip.
“It’s not you,” Harvey tells you, each kiss moving lower, “You know that, right?”
Your breath catching - it feels like your cunt is still pulsing, when his mouth dips further. Not waiting for your answer this time - driving his point home with the talented tongue that suddenly presses against the bud of your clit, wet and warm.
Ensuring you won’t forget.
A moan is ripped from you, as he teases. Tight pointed licks, a flat lick following. A rough groan as he tastes your orgasm that coats his fingers, only just how beginning to move.
You’re too sensitive, squirming at his touch. Panting breaths and little jerks of your hips, the tight twist of overstimulation bleeding into something smooth and sweet as honey.
He’s ruining you for everyone else. The thought is a blurry one, something you can barely snatch. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’ve already come harder than you ever have.
And is already working you towards a second. A rough groan when you let your fingers leave his to twist in his dark curls. Grasping onto his shoulder with the other one, his shirt wrinkling further.
You want it off. You want all of it off, want him bare and on top of you. Want to taste him on your tongue. Taste yourself against his lips, after this.
Unsure how he’s able to do it. Bring you to the edge again so quickly, but maybe it’s because you’ve never desired someone like this.
Deeper than desire, though you’re not quite ready to admit it.
You’re brought back, as his palm presses beneath your thigh. Hiking it over a shoulder, opening you to be devoured. Those fingers more confident now, sure and slick as they pound into you. Louder now, with the way you coat them, your release smeared across your thighs.
This time when you come, it’s against his tongue.
Brought over with the way his lips close sound and suck. The way he groans at your taste, his clever fingers leaving you breathless.
Choking on your heartbeat as you shatter. His wide palm curled around your thigh, keeping your cunt pinned against his tongue.
This time he can feel your pulse. Each throb of pleasure as it resonates through you. Feel the way you gush for him - his fingers dampening further, across knuckles and the flesh of his palm.
“Fuck.” You moan, when you can breathe again.
You expect him to pull away, after this. He must know you’re more than ready. But instead all you can see is dark eyes, a tongue that slips between the fingers that are still buried in you.
“Harvey,” You gasp, as his tongue then lifts to curl over your clit again, “Don’t you want to-?”
Doesn’t he want to fuck you?
Isn’t he aching, like you are?
“Tonight is about you,” He answers firmly. Lips glossy with your release, and despite his words you don’t miss the way his hips press into the bed.
“Sounds like I got some time to make up for.”
Your head falls back onto the pillow as you huff a laugh, breath catching as you feel his fingers slip free just long enough to work in a third.
Already finding that spot again, as he begins to build towards a third.
If he can read you this easily already, you think dizzily…
You can’t wait to find out everything else he knows.
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So here for the Harvey Renaissance 🙏💕 would love to know what you thought! Are you enjoying 1.6? (If so what are your mod recs???) | part ii is up here!
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wanderer-six · 1 month
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THE GALA - A Clone Dating Sim
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You are a Jedi General. The Council has assigned you a very important mission: the infiltration of a Separatist gala on Raxus. But you will not be going alone--you are allowed to bring a date on this adventure. In the heart of enemy territory, who will you count on to watch your back?
PLAY HERE: THE GALA
Ideal play experience is on desktop! (I think you can play on mobile it just looks a lil yuccy)
Clone bbs x Fem!Jedi player FEATURED CLONES: Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and ARC Twins Fives & Echo
RATING: 18+ MINORS DNI - The paths can be SFW or NSFW depending on your choices (2nd option is always the NSFW one!) - general warning for smut if you make those choices, more specifics below the cut!
Additional (less relevant) info beneath the cut!
HAPPY MAY 4TH! ENJOY MY LOVES~~
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COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all
Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex
Tech: Oral (f receiving)
Crosshair: Fingering
Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥
Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)
Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v
Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!
-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!
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AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)
TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think
"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana
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jimalim · 3 months
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Quiet on Set really hit hard. As someone who grew up watching these shows religiously, and being so familiar with these kids, it's absolutely devastating to see how much abuse went unchecked. Drake Bell's story is incredibly harrowing and I applaud him for having the courage to finally speak publicly after all these years. Who knows how many more might come forward because of this, or at the very least how many people affected with similar experiences may feel a little less alone.
As I saw someone say, it really feels like Dan Schneider subconsciously traumatized an entire generation of kids by exposing them to so much implied sexual innuendo in his shows. It's clear he got off on not just being able to put child performers in these morally dubious positions, but also by exposing the audience to such fare. It's deeply disturbing to see these "jokes" Now as an adult, and I personally feel super conflicted about it.
I hope change comes from this documentary, aside from the existential dread I presume many people my age might feel after watching.
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zepskies · 8 days
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Wanderlust
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.
AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂
I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.
Word Count: 650
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.
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You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.
Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.
You couldn’t help yourself.  
You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.
You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.
You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.
“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”
You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.
“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.
Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.
If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.
You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.
You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  
Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.
“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.
“Like a tease,” he muttered.
You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.
Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.
“How about that?” you asked.
“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”
You smiled too.
“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.
“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”
“Mhmm,” he responded.
He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.
His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.
Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.
A girl could get used to it though.
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AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚
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Support Me on Ko-Fi ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28
@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022
@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky
@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun
@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420
@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx
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hooniebaekgu · 23 days
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Past Midnight
PAIRING : Park Jongseong x female Reader
GENRE : fluff, smut mostly
Warning : MDNI! established relationship, both are idols, reader implied to be soloist, use of the word 'doll' and 'jongie', implied multiple rounds, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your wi- sorry) not proofread!!
Word Count : 1.7k
Yukki's Notes : took me so long to find the perfect aesthetic omg
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Your relationship with Jay has been nothing short of a roller coaster ride. As idols, you both had some image to preserve.
It honestly sucked that you had to snoop around at ass o'clock in the night just to see your boyfriend, but oh well. And throughout your relationship, Jay had been an amazing boyfriend.
Not that you've been in any relationship before him, but he still surpassed any expectations you've had. Emotionally and physically.
But recently you haven't even gotten to talk to Jay, let alone meet him. He had returned from a tour and was practically locked in practice rooms for their new comeback.
So you weren't expecting him to be knocking on your door past midnight. As soon as you opened the door, you were pushed to the nearest wall, his lips on yours, practically devouring you.
After a moment or two, you kissed back. His hands roaming all over your body, one coming to rest on your waist while the other squeezed your ass, giving it a light slap. You pulled away with a gasp.
“What are you doing here, Jay?” you said, eyeing his lips wet with saliva.
“Not happy to see me?” he said with a pout, feigning hurt. His hand on your waist slowly crept up, softly running against the small of your back.
“I'm always happy to see you baby,” you said, pushing away the loose strands of hair. “but you texted me this morning, saying that you would be busy the whole day.”
He sighed, pulling you closer. His eyes roaming over your face with adoration. “I was supposed to be, but I wouldn't shut up about you at practice. And Jungwon kicked me out, so here I am.” He watched you throw your head back, laughing at his innuendo.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked, and watched you nod your head. “I haven't, I'm hungry baby.” he said in a low tone, giving you those eyes.
“Well what would you like to have Jongie?” you asked teasingly knowing he loved that nickname.
“You.” he said, leaning in and pressing kisses on your neck, you gasped tilting your head back to give him more access.
“Baby,” you say, although your sentence has been forgotten somewhere as he sucks on that spot on your neck. “A-ah, Jay listen” you say lightly pushing him away.
“You have a schedule tomorrow, we need to sleep.” you say taking in his disheveled appearance despite not even doing anything. His eyes were dazed, as if he didn't even hear what you said, maybe he didn't.
“I don't care doll, I'll survive. Although I can't say the same if you don't let me make you feel good.”he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.
Jay saw your resolve faltering, not waiting for a response he picked you up by your waist. You wrapped your legs around his waist subconsciously.
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“A-Ahh, Jongie fuck please.” you loudly whined, eyes barely open as you try to give him a pleading look.
Jay had been fingering you god knows how long, you've cum maybe 3? 4? times. And it seemed that he wasn't satisfied.
“Please what doll?” he said, his voice low as he took in your face, you were absolutely gone. And yet begging for more. His fingers were pumping in and out of you fast, you could cum from this but you wanted more.
Normally, he wouldn't even have to hear a ‘please’ from you. He would give you anything you asked for, but today he felt a little mischievous.
He wanted you to beg him, he wanted to see that you wanted him just as he wanted you. He knew you did, but he wanted to see it.
“Jongie please, I-” you said, cutting yourself off and shying away from his gaze. God he loved you, he loved how one moment you looked so sinful yet the other you were so shy you couldn't even look at him
“How am I gonna know what you want if you don't tell me doll? Say it.” he said, fucking menace.
He curled his fingers in you, hitting a spot that had you drooling. He was trying to give you a little push, you were too aware of your actions to beg so he was inching you closer and closer to that delicious sub space.
Your eyes rolled to the back, arching your back as you came all over his fingers, some of it even landing on his wrists. It took you some time to realize that you squirted.
Jay eyed your cunt hungrily, he wanted to eat you out so bad. But that would have to wait, he wanted nothing more than being buried in your cunt to the hilt.
“I want you. I need your cock.” you whined out, brain a mush from the orgasm but still hungry for more. Jay loved how desperate you became whenever it came to sex.
“Wasn't so hard, was it doll?” he said, mocking your shyness.
He did not have the patience to beat around the bush, or even dirty talk you through. Which was huge considering he loved dirty talking.
He got rid of his boxers, pants already gone back when you two were making out. His hard cock slapping against his stomach, precum oozing out as he stroked himself.
He looked up to see you eyeing him with hunger in your eyes. He didn't have to wait more, without a word he lined himself to your cunt, rubbing his tip against your clit.
You both moaned out as his tip finally entered, the burning desire you felt finally melting as he pushed more and more into you.
You felt so full, Jay groaning and dropping his head in the crook of your neck feeling you so tight around him.
“Doll relax, stop clenching.” he said, rubbing the side of your torso, trying to calm you down.
He pulled out, only his tip in you. You whined at the loss of contact, but the sound was caught in your throat as he slammed back in you.
“God, you always feel so good, doll.” he moaned, grinding his hips harder into you.
You let out a long moan, hands coming up to grab at his shoulders. Your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks in your wake, as his hips piston in you, back and forth leaving your pussy a wet mess.
You wrap your legs around his waist, making him go deeper, if that was even possible. He set a fast pace from the start, not giving any thought to your overstimulation, he knew you liked it. “Jay.” you moan, you hold eye contact with him, knowing how much he loves that.
You've never seen him so desperate, his hips thrusting in you almost animalistically. His hands holding you down, making you take everything he was giving.
He angled his hips, hitting your sweet spot, your moans were drawled out and hoarse. He pushed his face in your neck, moaning your name almost in a daze.
He suddenly pushed your legs to your chest, bending you in half. His hips thrusting in you ruthlessly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Hah doll fuck, spot clenching so much.” he moaned out, hot breath fanning your face as his hips seemed to have a mind of their own.
You moaned his name loudly as you felt him hitting your g-spot continuously, lifting your pelvis to meet his every thrust. Your thighs were covered in your arousal, cunt dripping with slick.
His pelvis hitting yours and making loud wet noises, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your cunt squelching and sucking in his cock, wanting more and more.
Jay leaned in connecting your lips, pushing his tongue down your throat. You sucked on his tongue, spit falling down the side of your face. Everything felt hot, it was too much and yet you loved it.
He moaned loudly around your lips feeling you clench around him, he threw his head back in pleasure.
“Tell me you like this doll. Fuck tell me you like me using your cunt to get off.” he said, moaning after every couple words, his deep voice making you clench harder around him.
“H-Hah, fuck yes. Like it so much baby, I love your cock, you make me feel so good.” you said, barely able to speak with how fast he was fucking you.
Jay reached down, rubbing circles on your clit, just how you like it. He drops one of your legs from his shoulder, wrapping it around his waist. Wanting to fuck you deeper, make you cream all over his cock.
His eyes roll to the back of his head feeling you clench around him so tight, your pussy trying to suck him in.
Jay falls forward, his arms barely holding his weight as he continues to piston in you. He wouldn't be able to stop his hips even if he wanted to, the sex felt too good.
He mumbles rushed ‘I love you’s against your lips, rubbing your clit faster. Wanting to make you cum, needing to make you cum.
You arch your back, pelvis rubbing against his as you cum. Your cum making a mess all over his abdomen and running down thighs, but you know he loves it.
Jay's arms give out, feeling you clench around him. He finally let's go, thick spurts of cum painting your walls white. He falls forward, his face buried in your neck as he slowly rides his high out.
You both stay that way for a while, catching your breath from the mind blowing orgasm you've just had. Jay slips out of you, rolling over to lay down beside you.
“Should we just sleep like this?” you ask, tired out of your mind. You were desperately hoping that he would agree.
“Sure.” he said monotonously, pulling you closer wrapping his arms around you and pushing your head in his chest.
You wrap your arms around his torso, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. “I love you.” you mumble, although you were half asleep already, Jay knew you meant it. You always mean it.
“I love you too, doll.” he said, running his hands through your hair till he heard your breath slow down. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, looking at your sleeping face with adoration.
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im-no-jedi · 2 years
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ehehe ohoho... love riding that fine line between T and M with my writing eheheohoho
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pin-k-ink · 1 day
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"just friends" // kozume kenma
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tw ⇢ friends to lovers(?), pet names, strong sexual tension, implied first kiss, dry humping, grinding, making out, face sitting, overstimulation, cunnilingus, praise kink, squirting, dirty talk, fingering,
wc ⇢ 4.7k
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"For real, this is just shameless at this point," Kenma deadpanned, slouching even further against the footboard without looking up from his game.
You shot him a sidelong glance where you were sprawled on your back beside him, manga dangling precariously. "Oh come on, it's not that bad!"
One pewter brow arched high over his intense golden stare that remained fixed on the TV. "They're literally naked and making out, [Y/N]. That's the entire page."
"Well yeah, but that's just building the tension!" you protested with a laugh, rolling onto your side to face him more fully. "It's an art form, you uncultured heathen."
Kenma's lips twitched with the barest hint of a smirk at your teasing jibe. "I'll pass on studying that particular form of art any further, thanks."
You huffed out a dramatic sigh, mock affronted by his dismissal. Though you couldn't quite ignore the way your belly did a tiny traitorous swoop at how close you found yourself pressed against his thigh in this position. Kenma's clean, musky scent surrounded you completely in the best way.
"That's too bad," you drawled before you could think better of it. "Here I was getting all excited to show you my bookmarked collection of the real spicy stuff..."
Kenma started minutely, those striking feline eyes finally tearing away from the game to bore into you with renewed consideration. Your breath hitched slightly at the weight of his laser focus zeroing in on you so intently, all teasing smirks fading away to leave him looking adorably serious.
"You, uh..." He cleared his throat roughly, adam's apple bobbing in that way that always had you following the motion unthinkingly. "You...really enjoy that kinda stuff?"
It wasn't often Kozume Kenma allowed any genuine curiosity to bleed into his apathetic front, even around you. So you found yourself nodding before you could second guess it, utterly transfixed by those blown pupils studying you so raptly.
"There's...nothing wrong with a little spice every now and then," you admitted in a small voice laced with faux bravado. "Doesn't everyone have those kinds of urges?"
Kenma shifted minutely closer until your knees brushed together with each inhale. His rich, honeyed scent surrounded you in a heady cloud, making your head spin dizzily. The controller lay forgotten in his lap as his attention settled solely and intensely on you in a way that set your heart racing.
"I dunno," he murmured, something heated flickering in those amber depths as he trailed them over your features leisurely. "Do they?"
You felt the tips of your ears warming at the subtle challenge and blatant innuendo in his husked query. Yet you refused to be the one to balk first in this...whatever this building tension between your bodies had become. If suggestive teasing was the game Kenma wanted to play--well, two could certainly tango.
"Mmm, you don't need to act so shy with me," you purred, propping yourself up on one elbow to arch your body into a sinuous line beside him tauntingly. "I'd never judge your own perfectly natural...curiosities, you know."
The tips of Kenma's ears went pink to match your own, but his gaze remained steady and heavy-lidded in a way that made your belly flip. He shifted his legs subtly apart in a clear unspoken invitation for you to insinuate yourself closer.
"So says the one who clearly has experience with...indulging those kinds of curiosities," he murmured in a low rumble, piercing eyes roving over your prone form in a way that stole the breath from your lungs.
You watched his adam's apple work convulsively, worrying his lower lip with sharp canines for just a beat in an unconscious display of compulsion. Then, without warning, he slid his legs wider in a graceful vee and patted the space between them invitingly.
"Well c'mere then," Kenma husked, fingers stroking the plush bedspread in a utterly distracting gesture. "And we can...experiment and see what all the fuss is about, just us friends."
Your mouth went bone dry as your wide eyes flicked back and forth between his half-lidded stare and the vee of his thighs splayed in wanton invitation. Mindlessly, your tongue stole out to wet your lips as your stare drifted down the lean, toned lines of his torso to where his midriff disappeared into the dark cotton hugging those thighs you yearned to—
"[Y/N]?" Kenma's voice was gone to gravelly sin itself, roughened into the most delicious rasp that hooked your focus right back onto him remorselessly.
He searched your face with his head tilted slightly in that unconscious gesture that always had your heart seizing in your chest. Silky raven locks fell across his forehead, framing that improbably pretty face to heartbreaking effect in the dimness of his bedroom.
Finally, you found your voice buried somewhere amidst the rush of arousal fogging your senses from his intense proximity and bold offer.
"A-Are you sure?" you stammered out huskily, unable to look away from the dusky rose tinting the apples of his cheeks. "About...experimenting, I mean?"
The words rang hollow and pointless even to your own ears as Kenma's eyes hooded further. He shifted his hips minutely, splaying his thighs wider in clear invitation and inducement for you to nestle deeper against his sleek form.
"It's just practice," he rumbled out in affirmation, tilting his chin up while studying your parted lips with naked yearning. "No strings attached, right kitten?"
A bolt of molten heat arrowed through your body at the throaty endearment dragging from his perfect mouth. Before conscious thought could reassert itself, you found yourself rising up on your knees and slinking forward to fill the cradle of his spread thighs instinctively.
Kenma's lids dipped to rapturous half-mast, finally allowing himself to drink in the sight of you hovering over his lap in clear invitation. His hands roamed up to bracket your hips with maddening leisure, calloused fingertips skating over the thin cotton of your sleep shorts teasingly.
Your chests were a hairsbreadth from brushing together now, sharing each shuddering inhale in the charged space between your trembling forms. With infinite gentleness, Kenma nuzzled his brow forward until it met your own in the barest graze of feverish skin on skin.
"Just friends," he exhaled in a gossamer whisper against your lips before closing the final distance in a tender, fervent glide.
Twin groans vibrated through your molten collapse as his velvet mouth melded against yours with exquisite pressure. You arched forward bonelessly, hands scrabbling for purchase against the sleek muscles of his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as Kenma's fingers spasmed around your hips.
This close, you could feel and taste his warm, musky essence in every breath you stole and surrendered back in tandem. Kenma mapped the lush seam of your lips reverently, molding and savoring each nuanced caress until you were utterly dizzy with needy want clawing at your insides.
Without conscious thought, you parted your mouth around a pleading whine, silently begging him to deepen the contact, to sear you to your core with the same satin glide of his tongue. But Kenma exercised admirably restraint, keeping the filthy heat of his kisses confined to the lush press of lips and the occasional velvet rasp of his own as breaths turned ragged.
Finally, after several endless eternities suspended in your lover's drugging embrace, Kenma dragged his mouth from yours with a low, devastated groan. You watched with glazed eyes as the tip of his tongue swept out to lave at his own lower lip hungrily, as if chasing your lingering taste there.
"Sweet hell, [Y/N]..." he rasped out, lashes fluttering as he pinned you with a look of pure desperation. "I want...fuck, I need..."
You swallowed thickly, silently urging him on with your own breathless nod. Need spiraled through your entwined bodies in raging riptides, licking higher with every passing heartbeat fueled by Kenma's burning stare and the erotic sprawl of his powerful form cradling you so intimately.
It was he who lurched up to slant his mouth over yours once more before you could find your voice. But this time, he parted those perfect lips wider around your own in blatant invitation - an offering and a plea all in one. Without hesitation, you answered him by delving your eager tongue forward to twine with his in a sultry, sensual glide perfectly befitting of your most lurid manga fantasies.
And with a low, vibrating groan against your mouth, Kenma succumbed to your emboldened depths wholeheartedly.
Kenma's mouth was hot velvet and feverish demand, stealing your every shallow breath with each insistent sweep of his talented tongue. You clung to his broad shoulders in a daze, whimpering against his pillowed lips as he expertly coaxed yours apart wider on a slick glide.
The wet sounds of your messy makeouts filled the bedroom - harsh panting gasps punctuated by obscene smacking as Kenma changed angles forcefully to delve deeper. Your cheeks burned, sticky trails of mingled saliva rapidly cooling against your flushed skin, but you were utterly powerless against the drugging thrall of his passion.
With a devastated groan, Kenma fisted one hand in your tousled hair to tilt your head aside, arching your throat into a wanton line he eagerly traced with ravaging swipes of his velvet tongue. You cried out brokenly as he blazed searing paths across your thundering pulse, lapping up the sweet-salt taste of your desire like a man unhinged.
"Ken-Kenma!" you gasped out dizzily, feeling his swollen cock jerk against your inner thigh in visceral response to your plaintive keen.
He snarled wordlessly in reply, mouth crashing over yours once more to swallow each fractured whimper you surrendered to his thorough plundering. You lost all sense of time or space beyond his scorching caresses, allowing his ravenous passion to sweep you under the crashing tide completely.
Only when your velvet tug-of-war reached a shuddering, panting climax did Kenma allow you to break free with a gasping inhale of cool air. You sucked it in greedily, nerves singing from the rough drag of his stubble and swollen lips leaving you utterly wrecked in their wake.
Kenma himself appeared utterly unraveled - chest heaving in sharp gulps, onyx locks disheveled wildly around his slack features, and lips so thoroughly reddened they verged on bruising from your heated frenzy. Slowly, his hooded golden gaze flicked back to yours with unmistakable languor and sated heat smoldering in its depths.
"Holy shit," he rasped out at last, sounding utterly wrecked in the most delicious way. "How's...how's that for 'experimentation' then, pretty kitty?"
You could only stare at him wordlessly, tongue darting out to trace your tingling lips in a shameless search for the lingering taste of his hungry mouth upon you. But Kenma was already stirring to disentangle you from his lap with careful hands at your waist.
Once you were resettled amid the rumpled bedding, he leaned back and raked an assessing, satisfied look over your dazed sprawl that made you shiver anew. Humming with distinctly male approval, Kenma palmed himself over the obscene tenting in his sweatpants before replacing his discarded controller.
Watching with stunned, hooded eyes, you settled back on your heels as he easily resumed his game as if you hadn't just suffered mutual ruination at his skillful hands mere moments ago. The sheer audacity and nonchalance of it made your breath hitch traitorously and belly clench beneath the rucked fabric of your skimpy tank.
Eventually, you found your voice amidst the rhythmic clicking of Kenma's renewed gaming focus. "That's...that's seriously it?"
One silvery brow winged upward, though Kenma's eyes never left the television screen. "Did you want something more, Kitten?" he husked out in that delicious rasp still slightly slurred with lingering arousal.
You swallowed hard at his sultry insinuation, the pet name caressing your sensitized nerves in the most wanton way. Kenma had utterly unraveled you with nothing more than some dirty kisses.
How on earth could you coherently admit to craving the impossible temptations his raw physicality promised with every sensual roll of those lean hips and thrilling flex of firm muscle as he moved?
As if sensing your hesitation, Kenma hummed disinterestedly and shifted onto his side facing you fully - one leg bent beneath him and the other trailing out in an artful sprawl mere inches from your own folded limbs. His sluggish repose angled his groin tantalizingly, making the distinct outline of his thick cock pressing against the dark fabric utterly impossible to ignore.
You inhaled sharply at the brazen display, eyes snapping up to find Kenma watching you from beneath hooded lids with knowing indolence flickering in the depths. His tongue traced the lush swell of his lower lip slowly, sensually, as if savoring your yearning reaction for himself.
"Not enough, then?" he drawled, lazy syllables dripping with sinful promise that made your thighs tense convulsively. "Well...I'm always happy to further your education, pretty girl."
His heated stare remained locked on you shamelessly as he trailed the backs of his knuckles down the crease of his groin in a vulgar caress, hips canting minutely into the motion with a nearly imperceptible shudder. You forgot how to breathe entirely as his thick bulge shifted, engorging within its cotton confines in blatant display of burgeoning arousal.
What little functioning rationality remained in your lust-hazed mind scattered completely as Kenma palmed himself more boldly, relishing the chance to gauge your dark rapture openly. Before you could think better, you surged forward onto your knees to hover over him once more - pupils blown wide and breath coming in ragged pulls that did nothing to stifle the raging fire licking up your nerve-endings.
"Show me, Ken..." you heard yourself plead in a quavering rasp choked with desperation. "Please, I need...fuck, I need it all..."
In one fluid surge, Kenma rolled you back beneath his scorching weight with an animalistic growl that ignited the wick of your desire into a raging conflagration. As you keened and arched into the exquisite drag of his hips cratering yours, he sank his teeth into the fevered juncture of your neck and shoulder with exquisite pressure.
"Then let me teach you, kitty," he rumbled against your inflamed skin as his calloused palms roved over every quivering inch. "Show you what it means to be utterly, deliriously craved...to have someone so hungry for you, there's no choice left but to indulge endlessly..."
With a ravenous snarl, Kenma sealed his mouth over yours in a searing, devouring kiss that stole every last shuddering, pleading breath as his skilled hands set to mapping out the sweetest forms of rapturous ruination imaginable.
Kenma's mouth slanted over yours in a series of lingering, drugging kisses that left you both panting harshly. You arched into the snug cradle of his hips, fingers knotting in the soft cotton at his shoulders as he coaxed your lips apart masterfully.
A low, guttural moan vibrated against your tongue from deep in his chest when you tentatively stroked him in exploration. The gravelly timbre of his pleasure had frissons of liquid heat arrowing through you. Kenma nipped at your jaw in clear reward, ravenous for every keen and shudder he wrenched from your rapidly unraveling form.
"Sweet fuckin' hell," he growled against the fevered hollow of your throat, stubble scraping deliciously. "The sounds you make, baby...like silk on sandpaper."
You cried out breathily as he sealed his mouth over your thundering pulse to suckle hard enough to sting. Every nerve ending was lit up like a livewire as Kenma mapped your body with unhurried leisure, savoring each needy whine he elicited like fine wine.
Just when you thought the building coil of ecstasy would surely snap and shatter you, Kenma abruptly disengaged with a devastated groan. He flopped onto his back beside you, chest heaving and utterly wrecked - eyes glazed and plump lips reddened from your heated kisses.
For several endless heartbeats, you could only lie there and gulp down lungfuls of tepid air in a daze, bereft and keening silently from the loss of his scorching weight. Until Kenma stirred, turning to press himself flush along your side as his wandering palm trailed down your hip and over your thigh possessively.
The thick ridge of his cock prodded insistently against your hip, precum leaving a damp patch cooling through the thin fabric between you. Despite your body thrumming like a live wire desperate for release, you instinctively parted your thighs in unspoken invitation for Kenma to insinuate himself deeper between them.
He shuddered harshly at the apex of your legs, groin stuttering against yours as his breath left him in a shaky rush. Lifting himself up on one forearm stretched over your body, Kenma gazed down at you through a haze of lust, heavy-lidded and utterly undone.
"Pretty kitty," he rasped out huskily against your burning cheek, blunt fingertips trailing from knee up to the damp juncture of your thighs in blatant exploration. "Do you...have any idea how fuckin' delectable you look like this?"
You shuddered bodily as he traced the slick seam of your folds through the sheer, damp material separating his touch from direct contact. Each nerve ending felt electrified by his slightest caress, ratcheting the coil of tension within you higher and higher by the second.
"Please..." you managed to keen breathily, arching your body into a wanton bow against Kenma's ministrations unconsciously. "Ken, I...I need..."
He growled a guttural negation before you could finish, fingers curling to drag the soaked fabric of your sleep shorts down your legs and leave your pussy bare to his scorching perusal. You sucked in a sharp inhale at the sudden exposure, sweat prickling your hairline at the intensity clouding his golden stare.
"What you need..." Kenma husked out, the arm not bracing his weight sliding beneath your knee to expose you fully to him. "Is to let me absolutely ruin you right now like I've been desperate to do for months."
His scalding breath ghosted over your parted thighs as he noseddown to nuzzle the plump curve of your hip with open-mouthed maddening reverence. A strangled keen punched itself free as his lips skated featherlight over the dewy juncture between hip and groin tauntingly.
"I don't deserve to see you like this," he confessed in a gravelly rasp shot through with palpable remorse and adoration. "So fucking gorgeous and perfect it makes a man repent of every second wasted not worshipping you properly like my goddess."
With that husked declaration, Kenma dipped his shaggy head lower to lay a blazing, openmouthed trail of worship along your inner thighs - laving his wicked tongue over each crease and trembling tendon until you were a sobbing, arched mess of desperation.
Only when you were panting his name on a litany of pleading, mindless babbles did Kenma resurface from his rapturous exploration. His chin and cheeks were gilded by the musk of your desire while his swollen lips and scorching bedroom eyes roamed over you shamelessly. He looked ruined in the most debauched way, utterly delirious from drowning in the essence of your wanton arousal.
"You’re being such a good girl for me," he rumbled out, voice utterly shredded as his broad palm skated from hip to inner knee greedily. "Gonna feast on you for fucking hours until you're utterly spent and ruined, sweetheart...take you apart with just my tongue until you're screaming my name..."
You very nearly burst into flames right then and there as he gently coaxed and splayed your knees wider into the most lascivious offering imaginable. But before your body could succumb completely to that spiraling crest rapidly cresting, Kenma delivered his killing blow with mouthwatering finality:
"So what d'you say, baby?" he drawled in a rasp of pure sin, eyes hooding heavily as you teetered on the knife's edge of madness. "Wanna sit on my face and smother me in that sweet little cunt?"
All the breath left your lungs on a single, shuddering cry as he punctuated his filthy query by dipping his head to lay a scorching line of wet, sucking kisses up your slit in blatant promise. You writhed and keened, unable to formulate a response beyond wanton begging as Kenma's perfect, plush lips grazed over your pulsing clit in a teasing nip.
"Kenma! Fuck, please, please, I need it, please just-"
Before you could finish the frantic, garbled plea, Kenma hooked his arms beneath your spread thighs to hoist you up with startling ease. With a guttural groan of anticipation, he settled back onto the mattress with his face directly beneath the apex of your spread legs and his hands firmly clamped around the jut of your hips.
You swallowed a gasp at the utterly erotic sight of Kenma's flushed features gazing up the sinuous line of your body as he tugged you closer to his mouth. His golden gaze was a molten, searing brand that held you riveted even as your thighs twitched in an instinctive need to close and hide from such an intense stare.
But before you could move, Kenma dragged the flat of his velvety tongue over your aching center with a low groan that resonated through your entire core. Your vision swam at the overwhelming sensation, head dropping back as his perfect mouth latched onto your clit and suckled with obscene fervor.
Kenma devoured you with abandon, letting you rest your entire weight on top of him to feast on your dripping folds like a man starving. His muffled moans and growls vibrated through your sensitive flesh, drawing forth a steady stream of incoherent gasps and breathless cries as he worked you over.
The coil within your core wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue, every lewd suckle and greedy nip and filthy slurp of him lapping up the evidence of your arousal. But you were utterly powerless to stop the inevitable crest looming as his strong, slender fingers flexed bruisingly around your hips and his nose nudged your clit with every slick glide.
You felt the tip of his tongue spear deep, twisting and thrusting until you were shaking above him - barely holding on by the thinnest thread of control. Kenma's golden eyes cracked open, peering up the line of your heaving torso and watching your rapturous face intently as his velvet tongue slithered inside you.
"Let go, pretty kitty," he growled against your folds before closing his mouth over your throbbing clit once more and suckling hard enough to send you soaring into freefall.
"Kenma!" you cried out as the first spasm hit, back bowing into a perfect arch as his hands clamped around your thighs to pin you down against his ravenous mouth.
He held you there, suspended above his devouring mouth as he lapped up the flood of your release with a rumbling moan. You were utterly powerless in his grip, writhing and trembling as wave after wave crashed through your veins.
Only when you were a whimpering, oversensitive mess did Kenma finally release you, guiding your limp form back to sprawl out beside him. He propped himself up on one forearm and raked an assessing look over your flushed, trembling body, pupils blown to black with naked lust and mouth glistening with your essence.
"You're such a good girl," he purred in a graveled rasp, calloused fingers trailing the sweat-dampened skin of your quivering belly reverently. "Look at you, coming so perfectly for me...so beautiful, baby..."
You whimpered weakly as his hand trailed lower, tracing the slick folds still twitching with aftershocks. Kenma's gaze zeroed in on your face, studying your reactions raptly as he teased your clit with featherlight strokes.
"Such a good, sweet girl..." he husked, circling your entrance with two fingers while never breaking that molten golden stare. "Do you think you can give me another one, pretty kitty?"
Before you could respond, Kenma leaned down to capture your lips in a lush, velvet kiss. You gasped and arched as he breached you in a single fluid motion, curling his fingers just right to drag across your g-spot with deadly precision.
He swallowed each of your breathy cries with relish, languidly working his digits in and out until your thighs were spread wide and you were grinding against his palm desperately. When you finally reached the peak, Kenma was there to catch you - murmuring words of praise and encouragement as he pumped his fingers and rubbed circles around your clit until you were a sobbing, trembling mess.
This time, the wave crashed harder and faster, wringing the last of your strength as you squirted all over Kenma's wrist. He groaned against your slack mouth, dragging the heel of his hand against your hypersensitive nub until you were clawing at his biceps and sobbing his name.
As the last of the shudders wracking your spent body faded, Kenma pulled his drenched fingers from you and brought them to his lips. You watched, dazed and utterly wrecked, as he made a show of lapping up every trace of your slick with a low hum of approval.
When his glistening fingertips returned to trace the puffy seam of your folds once more, you found the breath to speak at last. "I...I can't..."
Kenma's mouth slanted over yours, tongue thrusting deep to let you taste yourself on his plush lips and silky tongue. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he breathed against your fevered skin, nuzzling the damp hollow of your throat. "One more time, pretty kitty, for me..."
Your weak protests fell away on a shattered whimper as he began rubbing your clit again, this time with gentle, languid swipes that quickly had you keening and arching. Kenma hummed with smug satisfaction, watching your face closely as his dexterous fingers worked your slickened flesh with practiced ease.
"That's it," he rumbled against the swell of your breast, tongue laving over your peaked nipple while his other hand slid lower to dip two fingers back inside you. "C'mon, baby...wanna see you squirt one more time..."
You whimpered at his filthy command, bucking into his touch with mounting urgency. Kenma's teeth and tongue scraped across your nipple, tugging and soothing as his digits curled against your inner walls expertly.
It was almost too much - the overstimulation bordering on pain but somehow still pushing you higher and higher in a dizzying rush. The air stuttered from your lungs as the coil in your core wound tighter, every muscle seizing up as you teetered on the verge of yet another climax.
"C'mon, beautiful," Kenma growled, lifting his head to watch your face closely. "Give me one more...squirt all over me…"
As if waiting for his permission, your body clenched and shook, muscles contracting rhythmically. With a keening cry, you came for the third time, gushing slick all over his hand as he coaxed the orgasm from you with filthy praise and languid swipes of his skillful fingers.
"There's my good girl," he murmured as you came back down, easing his fingers from you gingerly before using two of them to rub lazy circles onto your hypersensitive clit. "So fucking gorgeous, baby..."
You could only lie there, limbs spread bonelessly as he toyed with your pussy in lazy, sated strokes. His molten stare drank in your flushed and debauched sprawl, utterly undone by his talented hands.
After several hazy, dreamlike moments, Kenma lifted his fingers to his mouth once more and cleaned them of every trace of your slick. The gesture was so viscerally erotic, it made you whimper and flush anew.
Once his hand was clean, Kenma slid off the bed and stood at its foot. You blinked blearily up at him, too thoroughly spent to do much more than take in the sight of his flushed, sculpted body, now gloriously bare to the waist.
His lean torso rippled as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down until his cock sprang free. You could only stare at the thick, flushed length jutting out proudly from a trim thatch of curls.
Kenma stroked himself slowly, eyes hooded and glazed as they trailed over your prone form. Your breath caught as a bead of precum pearled at his flushed tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
"Now that I’ve gotten you nice and creamy, baby," he husked out, fist working his cock with unhurried strokes. "What d'you say we go all the way?"
With those sultry words, Kenma climbed back onto the bed to settle between your splayed thighs. His hips slotted against yours, hot length prodding at your still-twitching entrance as he lowered his weight over you.
"Just a taste, kitten," he growled against your throat, slipping the flushed tip right between your folds teasingly. "You can give me one more, right?"
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amoreva · 4 months
Note
Hiii can u do a Luke or Clarisse (either one) x child of Dionysus! Reader and like they sneak off to make out or SMT AND DIONYSUS catches them AND GIVES THEM THE TALK and it’s funny and embarrassing for them
(Thank you if you do make this!!)
THE TALK
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pairing: luke castellan x daughter of dionysus!reader
summary: your father gives you the talk, after he catches luke and you sneaking around
warnings: innuendo?, making out, dionysus dramatics
a/n: let’s pretend ep 8 of pjo didn’t happen. ngl brainrotting to luke and swan lake op 20 act 1
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Dionysus paced around in front of the two of you. His Hawaiian shirt catching wind. Luke was trying (and failing) to hide the grin. It was quite amusing to see a God worry about something like this.
Dionysus was muttering something to himself. You caught wind of your father talking about “Chiron” and “the talk” and he was so confused on where to start.
You grimaced just knowing this wouldn’t end well. “Dad, please…” You helplessly plead not to even start this conversation.
“No, no! I must.” Dionysus spoke and put his hands up in discontent. He leaned against his little desk in the Big House.
“Do you know how betrayed I feel!?”
Luke smiled as he helped you down the steps of Cabin 12. A stupid lovey-dovey grin on both of your faces as your interlaced hands and ran across camp. It was as if you were normal mortal teenagers rather than half-bloods.
You trek through the forest used for the Capture the Flag, running along the river which lead to the lake. Every so often, Luke stopped to steal a kiss from you. You two had not seen each other all day because of counselor duties.
“Luke—!” You giggled after he stole yet another kiss.
“You’ve deprived me of affection, love.” Luke joked and held your hands. He walked backwards into a clearing. You reached the lake. It was usually used for canoeing, swimming and Capture the Flag (as well as romantic rendezvous). “How was I supposed to sleep without seeing you?”
Luke took of the jacket he was wearing so you could sit without getting sand on your pajamas. The waves of the lake seeped into the sand by your feet. Luke and you sharing portions of his jacket so you both won’t get dirty.
“I did retire to my cabin without giving you a good night kiss.” You joked your hand came to rest on Luke’s cheek.
“What a terrible girlfriend.” Luke hummed and lips in to kiss your lips. You breathed through your nose. Fireworks exploded in your stomach as you and Luke kissed, pushing each back ever so slightly, but not letting go.
Your other hand went to cup his face fully. Sweet nothings heard here and there as he pulled back for air just to dive back in.
You can’t help but lose yourself in him.
It’s always him.
You can’t help it. When he looks like that, treats you like this and has a reputation of that— you can’ help it.
“Luke…”
“Mm…”
“Hi!” Mr. D shined a flashlight on both of you. His hand on his hip. Luke and you break apart and block the shiny light from your eyes. “So…you both get bathroom duty for…3 months—”
Before Mr. D could even dish out punishment, he gasps. He gasps so dramatically you think he sucked all the oxygen from the world.
“I know.” Your dad stated firmly. His flare for dramatics makes you want to roll your eyes. “I know that is not my daughter kissing a boy.”
“Betrayed?”
You exclaim. Your face contorting into disbelief and surprise. You leg stopped bouncing as you stare at your father.
“Yes. Betrayed that my own—” Dionysus feigns his tears. A hand over his heart as if he is going to a parental crisis. “My own daughter!” His voice shaky.
“With all due respect Mr. D—” Luke spoke up.
“I’m not talking to you!” Dionysus exclaimed and crouched to his knees in front of you.
He turns on the fake waterworks. “You’re growing up! Which means…you’ll be discovering things that make you—”
Luke and you cringe. “Dad!” You cried out, disgusted with what he was trying to imply. Mr. D’s act drops. He stood up and leaned on his table. “Look, you two are young and Chiron was telling me to man up and have like a sex talk—”
“Dad!” You stood up, grabbing Luke’s hand. You storm out of there, listening to your father yell phrases like “be safe when you’re with him!” or “That’s 4–no 5 months on bathroom duty!”
You face was as red as the strawberries growing in the field. Luke laughed quietly at your embarrassment, though he himself was embarrassed.
“Hey. You heard your father. Be safe with me.” Luke teased and grabbed your waist. He turned you around to face him.
“Luke—please, that was already embarrassing enough.” You spoke flustered.
“So…” Luke dragged out with a small smile. He leaned in towards your face, lips centimeter away from yours. “Next time. We won’t get caught. Can’t suffer another talk again, can we?”
Luke pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.
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1K notes · View notes
selineram3421 · 2 months
Text
*sleepy*
Courting Pursuit
Part 2
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Part 1
Alastor X Deer Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠
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You continued to act affectionate towards him.
Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.
Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.
The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.
"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.
Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.
And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.
"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"
What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.
"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.
Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.
"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."
"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"
"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.
"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"
"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."
"Childish!?"
"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ₩θrs€ than death."
"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"
"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"
He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.
Something still irked him however..
Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.
As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.
Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.
Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.
"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."
"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.
"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.
"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.
He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.
She dead pans.
"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.
"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"
She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?
He should have spoken up about it from the start.
It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.
Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.
You perk up when noticing him.
"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)
"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.
Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.
Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.
Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.
"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)
"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."
With that you took a step back.
"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)
Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.
"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)
He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.
With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.
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Sad times means cookies.
~Seline, the person.
Part 3
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?
ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌
632 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 9 months
Text
A Simple Misunderstanding
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader
Summary: Hughie might of overheard something he probably shouldn't have between you and Ben
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Cursing (9x), Fluff, Sexual Innuendos, Implied Drug Use, Soldier Boy (Yes, our macho man gets his own warning)
Authors Note: So, this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I've been going back and forth debating if I was going to post this or not. But once I gave the summary to @zepskies she said she was intrigued, so I said, "What the heck?" and now it's posted for your enjoyment | This is my first time writing for this universe so I hope I was able to do these characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It was the middle of the night and Hughie couldn’t sleep. Although him and The Boys were in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors for miles, it surprised him how noisy everything could be. He had lived in New York City all his life; he was used to the noise. The bustling sounds of traffic, the occasional gunshot or stabbing, airplanes always flying overhead, or a supe destroying some vehicles while trying to catch a culprit. But the noises he heard were much different; it was the sounds of the crickets, droplets of water hitting an unwashed plate in the sink, and random incoherent whispering. The hustle and bustle of the city had become white noise to him.
Looking over at the clock it just struck 1:59am. He hadn’t been in bed long trying to sleep, only attempting to just a little past midnight. Since joining the group, it was unusual for him to actually get to bed at a normal time or even go to bed at all. He was used to going a day or two without sleep. Frenchie tempted him with some sort of drug to keep him going or an energy drink, MM would usually offer coffee which was the preferred method for Hughie. But at this point, the caffeine wasn’t working anymore, as he had started drinking it like water. Unhealthy for sure, but so was not sleeping for one, two, or three days straight.
This was the first time in a long time where everyone was actually sleeping, even Butcher. It was strange, because as long as Hughie had known him, he never once saw the man sleep. The closest he ever got was when he would get knocked out; but even then, that was kind of a rare occurrence.
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Getting up from his bed he sat on the edge of it for a moment rubbing his face. He had wanted to stay in bed and keep trying to fall asleep, but he knew that there was no use. So he decided to implement a trick that he remembered his mother using when she couldn’t fall asleep or get back to sleep. When she had trouble falling asleep or getting back to sleep, she would do various things to occupy herself until she felt tired enough to try and sleep again. Her usual go-to’s were either reading in the living room or listening to Billy Joel quietly to herself. Once, Hughie remembered waking up in the middle of the night and had found her humming quietly to herself while she read a book in the living room. The only light came from a single table lamp next to her.
Leaving the bedroom he started making his way down the hall toward the living room where he decided to watch some TV. There would probably be nothing worth watching at this time; just infomercials about grills or some kind of cleaning agent that didn’t work. He really wasn’t picky about what he watched, he just wanted something to help him fall asleep.
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As he walked down the hall, he heard faint whispering coming from one of the bedrooms. He thought that he had been the only one up - guess he was wrong. The room in which he heard the whispering coming from was Soldier Boy's room - something that he didn't find surprising in the slightest, as he was someone that actively fought sleep. "I've slept enough," he would say.
He started walking away, but didn't move far as he stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" That was your voice. What the Hell were you doing in his bedroom? And at this hour? Hughie thought to himself. He knew that the two of you were friends of some sort, as you were the only person that SB genuinely seemed to like and get along with, but for some reason, it didn't really occur to Hughie that you would be spending time with him this late into the night.
The next thing he heard was chuckling, chuckling from SB. "Trust me." The next sounds Hughie heard actually made his eyes go wide. It was the bedside drawer opening and closing just as quickly, the sound of some kind of plastic being opened, and then bed springs squeaking. The squeaking was so loud that he could only assume that it was the two of you moving in unison, not just one of you.
“Oh wow that’s…huge.” You commented, emphasizing the word ‘huge.’ Huge? Hughie thought. Gross.
Again, SB chuckled. “Never seen one so big Princess?” Princess?! Hughie was surprised he didn’t gag right then and there. Never did he ever want to hear SB say the word Princess, nor did he ever want to hear it in the context of it being used to describe you; his best friend since kindergarten.
“No, never.” You replied back, sounding as if you were embarrassed. “I mean, I’ve heard they can be that big but…” you trailed off.
So many emotions were taking over Hughie: but disgust was the main one. There were two things that his brain automatically came up with in this scenario. The first: barge into the room and stop you and Soldier Boy from having sex, the second: move far away as possible from the door and pretend this never happened. As much as he wanted to do the first option, he valued his life too much, didn't want to see Soldier Boy in all of his naked glory (once was enough when they were in Russia), nor did he want to be a cockblock for one of the oldest and most powerful supes in history. He knew, that being a cockblock would have been the very last thing he would do in life if he barged in. Option two it is, he thought to himself. With that decision, he never moved so quickly in his life.
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The morning finally came and you were greeted by Ben having his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath his chin. His embrace around you was tight, but not so tight that if you needed to move, you could (not that he would let you move any way, he was too comfortable). He's getting better at not crushing me when we cuddle, you couldn't help but think. The position the two of you were in was an intimate one, and it had become a somewhat regular occurrence over the past couple of weeks. It was something that you never thought would ever happen, especially when you first met him a few months ago.
Your relationship with Ben had drastically changed in the short amount of time that you had known him and took a complete 180. When you first met him, you were initially excited to meet him because you had watched all of his movies on repeat growing up as your father was a huge Soldier Boy fan - it was something the two of you had bonded over. But when you met him, he was far from how you envisioned him to be. He wasn't this all-American hero who stood up against injustice - he was a misogynistic racist asshole.
As time went on, Ben had somehow started to grow on you. Although there were still elements of him that radiated misogynism and racism, you gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to certain things. How it wasn't entirely his fault, as he had spent 40 years essentially in isolation being tortured by the Russians; completely unaware of the massive changes that took place in the world. Once you had "remembered" that, and started spending more and more time with him, you had started to fall for him - and it happened relatively quick.
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"Good morning." He said to you, his voice lazy as he kissed your bare shoulder.
"Good morning to you too." You replied back, pressing your back and ass closer into him.
"Your heart's beatin' a little fast there Princess." He smirked.
"It's just nice waking up like this, that's all." You said. "Well, you kissing my bare shoulder doesn't hurt either."
"You know, I can kiss other parts too." He said, keeping the smirk on his lips.
"Hmm, I know you can." You said, turning to face him. He leaned in and kissed you, a little surprised that he was the one that initiated. "Can I ask you something?"
You heard an annoyed sigh from him. "You're going to ask if I say no or not Sweetheart." He responded with his usual bluntness.
"Yeah you're right." You said. Ben couldn't help but slightly roll his eyes. "So my question," you began, turning to face him completely as you propped up your elbow on the pillow. "Why didn't you try and have sex with me last night?"
Ben looked at you with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "You're disappointed that I didn't try and fuck you?" He let out a small chuckle at your question.
"Honestly...Yeah. I mean, everyone was sleeping, and I know you want to. Plus, I barely had anything on." When you came to his room last night, you had purposely wore more revealing clothes in order to tempt him - a tank top and boy shorts.
"You wouldn't've been able to stay quiet." He began. "Although, it would have been fun to hear you attempting to be quiet and failing miserably." There was that smirk again.
"You don't know that." You said, your fingertips running up and down his bare arm.
"Y/N, trust me. You wouldn't have." His confidence was almost radiating arrogance.
"Is that a promise?" You asked. Your question more bold than you had intended it to sound.
"Oh, it most definitely is." He said. "I'll tell you what. We can test it out tonight." He leaned in, inches away from your face, moving a strand of lose hair that had fallen in front of your face.
"Promise?" You asked, your voice low, a little hesitant.
"I didn't stutter did I?"
"No Sir." You said, leaning in and kissing him again.
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The smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, glasses of orange juice on the table. MM and Frenchie making breakfast for everyone while Kimiko helped to set the table. Butcher sat on the barstool on the island in the kitchen, every once in a while taking a sip of coffee and reading the paper. Hughie walked into the kitchen and took a seat next to Butcher, his face looked like he had seen a ghost. Putting down the last plate, Kimiko looked at Hughie and walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch, which made her slightly frown with concern. Frenchie looked over at her and she signed something to him. “Petit Hughie, she wants to know what’s wrong.” Frenchie translated.
Hughie didn’t respond, he just sat there on the stool looking off into space. Frenchie waved his hand in front of Hughie’s face. “Petit Hughie?” Frenchie and MM exchanged looks, and Butcher put down the paper.
“Oi, lad.” He waved his hand in front of his face too. He looked over at MM and Frenchie. “I know what to do.” Without hesitation, Butcher slapped Hughie in the face, causing him to almost fall off the barstool.
Hughie started rubbing his cheek where Butcher had slapped him. "What the fuck was that for?"
"For being a creepy little shite and not saying anything when we're talkin' to ya." Butcher responded.
"I had uh, a rough night." Hughie said. He pointed at his cheek. "This isn't going to bruise is it?" He asked, Butcher rolled his eyes.
"Do you want me to make it bruise?" He asked, smirking.
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"Good morning everyone!" You practically sang as you walked into the kitchen. Everyone besides Ben had been there, as he was still currently pre-occupied with taking a shower. Everyone was currently sitting at the dining room table, slowly taking bites of their breakfast. Every so often, they took glances at you before looking back down at their plate of food.
Sitting down at the table, you took your usual spot next to Hughie and gave him a quick smile, before taking your fork and started digging into your pancakes. "MM, Frenchie, did you guys make this?" You asked, already knowing the answer.
"Uh, yeah." MM responded, almost too quietly. It was a little strange to you how quietly he had responded, but at the same time, you didn't really think anything of it, as the last couple of days has been a little rough for everyone. Despite being in a safe house, you knew that MM was at least up some of the night making sure that all of you were actually safe. You weren't sure if it was because of the situation you all were in, his military background, his OCD, or a combination of the three.
After a few moments of silence Hughie finally spoke to you. "So, how did you uh, sleep?"
You took a sip of your orange juice before responding. "Pretty good actually. Best I've slept in quite a while." Which was true. "How about you?"
"Rough night." Hughie said, responding very quickly to your question, as if he already had his answered prepared.
You frowned at his answer. "I'm sorry. Nightmare? Couldn't sleep?"
"A little of both." He said.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, genuinely wanting to know.
"Ye-" Before he could finish his sentence, Ben walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten him about a week ago. Without saying a single word, Ben took his usual spot next to you and started digging into the plate of food in front of him.
You cleared your throat and looked at him, which caused him to look at you. "What?" He asked, a mouth full of pancakes.
"Isn't there something you'd like to say?" You asked.
"Christ on a cross..." He mumbled, before looking up. "Morning." He said, forcing a smile before looking down at his plate again. "Happy?" He mumbled just low enough for only you to hear.
You smiled at him. "Very." You whispered back.
"The things I fucking do for you." He mumbled.
Hughie stood up very abruptly, the utensils and plates shaking a bit. This abruptness had caused everyone to look at him (except for Ben, who didn't even seemed bothered in the slightest). "You know what, I'm just going to come out and say it." His voice confident.
"We know you're gay." Ben said, very nonchalantly, still not looking up. "It's uh, good for you." He looked up now, focusing his attention on Hughie. "Be proud or...whatever." He finished, flashing him a forced smile. Ben then turned toward his attention to you, looking for some kind of approval from you regarding what he just said. Trying to adjust to the modern age was hard for him, but he was thankful that you were there to help him navigate things.
"What? I-I'm not gay. For the last time, I'm with Annie." Hughie said, trying his best to defend himself.
"I've been told that's called a beard." Ben took another bite out of his pancakes, and your hand automatically went to his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. It was your way of basically telling him to stop talking. He looked at your hand before looking at you again. "What?"
You turned your attention to your friend. "Hughie, what did you want to say?"
"Okay. I'm just going to come out and say it. Ask it. Whatever!" His voice sounding insanely flustered. "Did you guys fuck last night?"
You felt your eyes go wide, your fingernails digging into Ben's pants. You didn't know what to say, you were speechless. "What's it to you?" Ben asked, not even seeming to be remotely fazed by Hughie's question.
"Because she's my friend." Hughie responded. He knew that his response wasn't good enough.
"Okay, and?" Ben gave him a confused look, unsure of what Hughie's point even was. "I'll repeat, what's it to you? Y/N doesn't ask every time you blow Butcher."
"Again, I'm not gay." Hughie said, his voice sounding defeated.
"Whatever. Point is, she doesn't fucking ask. So why are you asking?" You couldn't help but agree with Ben, who seemed to be very reasonable in his questioning for once.
Hughie looked at Ben and you, and then looked at the rest of the group - all of them staring at him, waiting for him to say something. "Because..." he tried to find the right words. "Because you two are the reason why I couldn't sleep last night!" You and Ben exchanged looks, not understanding. The two of you focused your attention on him. Before either you or Ben could say anything, Hughie started talking again. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He looked at you. "Never seen one so big?" He looked at Ben. "You're even wearing his fucking shirt!" Hughie pointed to the shirt you were wearing.
You looked down at your shirt before looking at Hughie again. "I always wear Ben's shirts." You stated.
"No, you don't actually!" Hughie's voice was starting to sound so frantic now.
"She looks damn good in them though." Ben commented, taking yours and his empty plate to the sink.
"Hughie, I can assure you. Me and him didn't have sex last night." You said, really trying your best to reassure your friend, even though - to Ben's point - it wasn't remotely his business anyway.
"We will tonight though." Ben said, his voice calm as it has been throughout this entire exchange.
"They didn't need to know that." You pinched the bridge of your nose. You weren't embarrassed that Ben said that, but it was something that you didn't think he needed to add to the conversation.
"Sure they did. I mean, your friend here seems interested." Ben walked over back to the table, placing two mugs of coffee before sitting back down next to you again.
"For the love of..." You mumbled. "We smoked a blunt last night! There! Happy?" Your voice was the one that sounded frantic now, with a small hint of annoyance added.
"You guys...smoked...a blunt?" Hughie felt his cheeks heating up, embarrassed by this whole exchange now. "So you guys weren't talking about the size of his -"
"Hughie you better not finish that fucking sentence I swear to God." MM said, his voice sounding as if he had lost all of his patience already for the day, and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet.
“Ben and I were talking and I had mentioned that I’ve never smoked a blunt before, or have done any kind of drugs so he offered to let me try it. That’s it.” There was much more to the conversation, but you didn't feel like adding anything else. The rest of the gang didn't need to know that you and Ben were planning on going some place far away from New York when all was said and done.
"You never smoked a blunt before? I'm shocked." Butcher stated. "Swear you have." For as long as he had known you (which was quite a while now, as you joined The Boys about a year before Lamplighter had killed Mallory's grandkids), he could have sworn up and down that you were on some kind of drugs, but he never could put his finger on it. He thought about asking you of course, but he always decided against it.
"It's shocking I know." You shrugged. "I guess it's never appealed to me."
"Well it's a good thing you're with Mister Coke Head over here." Butcher said, adding a little chuckle at the end.
"Just because we're together doesn't mean I'm gonna start doing drugs with him Butcher." You defended.
"She'll be too busy doing other things." Ben smirked, before winking at you.
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nxrrislando · 2 months
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SEVENTY TWO HOURS ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 c.sainz
𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — ᝰ.ᐟ SMAU
PLOT ━━・❪ When her best friend’s brother invites her for a weekend with his team at ferrari as a birthday gift but forgets to book a spare hotel room ❫
WARNINGS ━━・❪ everything written is fake and for the purpose of entertainment, sexual innuendos, mature language, spelling mistakes on some graphics soz ❫
key info - anything with ‘ ❀ ’ means speech is in mexican/spain spanish as it makes more sense for two people who both speak variations of spanish to communicate in different dialects of their native language rather than in the second language of english, however I speak no spanish and would be unable to translate mass amounts of text, will be translating smaller parts tho with google may be wrong!!
my fics!
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yourusername officially old enough to know better!!
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yourbestfriendsainz feliz cumpleaños, mi amor🫶🏻
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username cause he’s her best friends older brother and everyone in the sainz household adore her
yourbestfriendsainz ¿ te gusta el regalo de carlos?
yourusername te dije que no le hablaras de mi interés por el deporte, pero gracias. carlossainz55 😊
username real ones have shipped yn and carlos since the days she tormented him on twitter😭
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username who are we killing and why😰
username are you at Bahrain for the Grand Prix?
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carlossainz55 ¿le importaría explicarlo?
| yourusername Mierda me olvidé de quitarte
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username um idk what kind of launch this is cause caption implies carlos?!
username YOURE ON A DATE
yourbestfriendsainz te lo dije
| yourusername Cállate
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carlossainz55 te quiero, cariño❤️
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username the way im unhealthy about them
landonorris mamá y papá
oscarpiastri you use google translate for that lando? landonorris @ oscarpiastri the slander was unnecessary go away
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carlossainz most beautiful in every room she walks in username @ carlossainz couples like you make me want to drive off a building 🥰
username forget carlos take me hello??
charlesleclerc such a beautiful man😍
carlossainz55 thank you darling yourusername feels like im interrupting something
username I wanna know what switch flipped during Bahrain cause they were in denial about each other for so long???
yourbestfriendsainz my idiot brother forgot to book a hotel room for her so she had to stay with him cause everything was booked up, seventy two hours, give or take, in forced proximity meant they couldn’t avoid their feelings anymore😭
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carlossainz55 ❤️❤️
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fathomlessgaze · 3 months
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artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave
very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)
an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...
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pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.
you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”
he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.
pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”
“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 
you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 
there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 
while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?
“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.
“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 
“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  
“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”
you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 
“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 
you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.
steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”
he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 
knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”
his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 
when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.
“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”
“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”
maybe this was always a losing battle.
“so maybe that’s what i want.”
this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 
your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  
he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 
a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 
something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”
sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…
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nyacinthie · 2 years
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one of my best qualities is that i say silly things without thinking, n it can be embarrassing but worth it to see my friends break down in laughter
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