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#youre so silly testament.
lesbiangiratina · 7 months
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Testament and axl bonding over their weapons… btw
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monicahar · 11 months
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“thanks for the flowers!”
“what flowers?”
in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.
characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh
; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,
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WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?
“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”
you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.
“you do know that you're dating me, right?”
“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”
his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.
“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”
“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.
“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”
“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.
“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”
...?
you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.
“...excuse me?”
“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.
not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.
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ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.
but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.
“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?
alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”
“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—
“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”
alhaitham pauses his train of thought.
speak of the devil.
momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.
“what about him?”
you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”
“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.
“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”
even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—
alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.
“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.
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KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.
“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”
“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.
an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.
“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”
“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”
“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”
“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”
“no, the one before that.”
“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.
it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.
he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.
“kaveh?!”
“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.
“it's not like i reciprocate it—”
“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”
you blink. “kaveh...”
“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”
“okay, okay! jeez...”
now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?
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the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ
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neuvistar · 1 month
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biker! blade? how about guitarist! blade who fucks u before stepping onto the stage and according to him, its a good luck ritual 🫶🫶🫶
oh lawd…. u got me thinking.. guitarist blade is good w his fingers u guys CANNOT tell me otherwise
guitarist!blade x fem!reader. cw. nsfw. semi public s3x, v4ginal fingering, squirting, one pussy slap, cunnilingus, use of nicknames, blade referred 2 as “yingxing” | minors dni | nsfw under the cut !
blade groaned deeply, reveling in the sight of his precious beloved’s pleasure-stricken face. your cries filled his changing room, echoing off the walls like a testament to the newfound connection between your drenched cunt and his fingers. each thrust of his digits brought you closer to heaven, but made you fear for the worst.. there were people around, the door wasn’t locked.. you knew someone could come in any moment now. but blade? aeons.. he just wanted to savour every single moan that left your lips, igniting the fire within his body. but yet, he knew this little intimacy wouldn’t last long because of his concert he had to preform. ugh.. such bad timing.
“bladie, please…” he heard you beg, his heart lurched at the little nickname, “yingxing.. you really need to go out there and preform.. we can do this alone later..” your soft murmurs were interrupted by the sudden curl of his fingers, a sharp gasp left your lips at the sensation as you could almost feel sweat dripping down your forehead, mingling with tears of anguish and elation. “this is good luck," he panted desperately, trying to ease his arousal as he rubbed himself against the couch. “don’t interrupt.. you know you enjoy this as much as i do, don’t you?”
he shoved a third digit inside, eliciting another whimper from his precious darling.. a low chuckle rumbled in his throat, marvelling at the warmth and tightness of your pussy around his slender fingers, you knew he was getting tired of using his fingers.. you knew from how lazy his pumps were getting, they were steady.. yes, but they were also slowing down by the second. a wave of relief washed through you when blade retracted his fingers from your drooling cunt. in his eyes, it was still begging for more. but in yours? you were absolutely exhausted! you grumbled, slowly trying to get up. ah, maybe he finally stopped, right?
you were more wrong than ever. that was just the beginning.
blade raised his freehand to land a quick yet painful slap to your cunt. “ouch..! hey!” you yelped, furrowing your eyebrows with a pout. “silly girl. did you think we were done? the good luck charm has not come onto me yet.”
“w—what? what do you mean it hasn’t “come onto” you yet?! do i look like tinkerbell to you—“ blade almost immediately delved into your wet heat, oh yeah. this was what he needed. his good luck charm of the day. his tongue stroked along your folds delicately at first, kissing your clit with his pretty lips as he tasted you. fuck, he needed this alright. his fingers played with your hole gently while his mouth continued its rhythm. he was determined to give you pleasure beyond measure, but yet he was also determined to give himself a reward for all the hard work throughout the day, and.. his good luck charm he was so desperate to get. your soft cries rang out loud yet wonderfully in his changing room, praying to the gods above that nobody would walk in. the male’s tongue darted playfully over your clit while he slowly slid two fingers inside you.
“blade..” your body arched off the couch when he dug his fingers knuckles deep within you, teasingly doing a scissoring motion as your cries filled the quiet room. the more he saw you moan, the more he saw you squirm.. the more he desired you. his wet muscle picked up the pace as he licked and sucked hungrily, eating you out like a starved man.. the sounds of slurping and licking were evident. each moan that escaped from your mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through him; he wanted nothing more than your release. on his face.
before you could say anything, your hand flung onto your mouth as your eyes were sewn shut, squirting on his face with a sense of relief. “.. ah.. ah? oh my god.. i’m so sorry!” blade only scoffed at your apology, bringing his hand to wipe his face as he eagerly lapped up the remaining mess on your pussy, savouring your taste while watching you tremble underneath him. a satisfied grin spread wide across his face. “that’s what i was hoping for.”
“.. huh?”
“your release. your release on my face. my.. good luck charm for the performance today.”
ugh.. seriously, you really need to put a leash on this man, or he’ll eat you out every few minutes before his performances. well.. not like you’d mind anyway.
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@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.
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wolfiesmoon · 1 month
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Bakery
Leona x gn!reader
ok but can we feel the love tonight tho
i learned something new recently and i want to put this knowledge to good use (smirks evilly at leona)
also i am sick asf right now so i apologise if this is sloppily proofread
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It seems like being Leona's pillow has become a part of your daily at this point. It's become an unspoken routine for you.
Usually, he'd sleep anywhere but he had to adapt his sleeping habits a little because of you. Turns out most people don't find the floor of the greenhouse a comfortable napping spot.
Usually, the perfect spot is your room in Ramshackle dorm. It's quiet and empty, save for the pesky ghosts that interrupt the two of you sometimes. It makes for the perfect hiding place when Ruggie is bothering him with some stupid papers he needs to solve for potionology, too.
All in all, worth the walk to the dorm. Especially since he gets to see you and feel your warmth without fail.
You were already waiting for him on your bed, busying yourself with scrolling through your Magicam feed. Usually, you keep a few textbooks for studying with you, but exams have mostly concluded for now. You know once Leona attaches onto you, you're not going to be able to leave for atleast 2 hours, so it's always great to prepare in advance.
Sure enough, you heard familiar footsteps getting closer and the door opened to reveal your sleepy lover. His tail swished when he caught sight of you. What a lovely sight, indeed.
"Hey Leona, had a good day?" you ask casually and he sighs in response, mumbling something about being tired. Well, that's just the usual, isn't it?
He climbs up on the bed and you smile at his sleepy expression. He's so cute when he's sleepy, but you probably shouldn't tell him that unless you want to get glared at.
Instead of crashing on top of you like you're used to, though, he places his hands on your belly, still sitting at your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't even meet your eyes.
Suddenly, his hands start moving in a kneading motion. A surprise massage? Not that you mind it, but that's highly unusual coming from Leona of all people. If anything, it should be the other way around.
"Leona..?" you question, trying to get a good look at his face. You can't really see it well because of the hair that fell to the side of his face. But from what little you can see, he seems to be in sort of a trance right now. His eyes are barely opened and he's wearing a little satisfied smile on his face. He doesn't respond to you at all.
"Leona?" you try again, a little firmer this time. He suddenly stops, probably finally coming back to his senses. You can see the way his eyes widen for a moment before he falls down on top of you without a word, wrapping his arms around you. Now you can't see his face at all, unable to read his expression.
"Leona, what was that?" you hugged him back, still a bit dumbfounded. You weren't going to lie though, that felt really nice.
"Don't ever bring this up again." Leona did not seem in the mood to discuss what just happened any further. He could have sworn he left that behaviour behind as a toddler. How embarrasing.
He's kind of worried now. That's how much you affect him.
"Oh... uh, okay." you pet the back of his head lovingly. Hmmm... now that you think of it, Grim does the same thing sometimes. The common denominator with Grim and Leona is that they're both cats, atleast somewhat.
If you apply this knowledge to what you know about cats in general... Oh, Leona, that silly goose. Seems he's a bit embarrased about kneading on you. You wonder if it was pure instinct.
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yep, turns out the big kitties knead too, ain't that just a testament to the tried and true saying "cat is cat"
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qingxin-dream · 9 months
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“Righteousness”
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summary | in another timeline, kunikuzushi never redeemed himself. he took interest in a different kind of heart—not the Gnosis, not a Vision—but yours. (art credits: @/Shiqaruki on twitter).
warnings | lore, kidnapping, kuni calls you ‘little songbird,’ profanity, brief mention of physical abuse, manipulation, praise & degradation, pining, obsessive/possessive, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader (wears a dress & lingerie), dominant kuni, choking, yandere jealousy, murder/arson threats, worship, slapping, finger-fucking, mirror sex, kuni receives oral, deepthroating, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, mention of breeding
genre | yandere, smut with plot, canon-divergent
word count | 4.5k
pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
In a time all but forgotten, a young boy sat on his knees, caressing a hand-sewn doll in his palms and looking up with childlike compassion to his companion.
“There once was a puppet solider whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever,” he began, his eyes reflecting the scene of his storytelling imagination.
He gently squeezed the doll in his hands, as if to comfort his companion before the truth spills from his lips. “But the solider didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feelings came from.”
“One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina,” he continued with a more somber tone, drawing attention to the gut-wrenching ending of a tragic romance.
However, his voice shifted, offering soft words of wisdom and hope to his distraught friend. “The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”
Instinctively, the beautiful puppet sitting before the young boy curled his lip in disdain. “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart… but that’s not a real heart.”
He could hear the affectionate smile pulling at the corners of the young boy’s mouth. “Maybe, but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”
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“What a joke. It’s just ashes,” the lonesome puppet can barely conjure up a breath in his agony. “Nothing left but ashes.”
As his chest twisted and clenched with the wretched filth of so-called human emotion, the divine puppet came to a profound realization. His body merely served as a hollow shell, cursed by the ghost of mortal weakness—a living testament to the depths of an Archon’s visceral mourning.
In his naïveté, he had trusted the boy he thought to be his friend. He had believed that silly little fairytale, that maybe he wasn’t as empty and worthless as he felt. There was no heart to be found in the cold vessel of a failed god.
Kunikuzushi would have to claim one for himself.
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Sin.
The ultimate temptress of mortals. The manifestation of human greed and desire. That which demands repentance and atonement for fear of eternal damnation. It is hinged on the human condition that death is inevitable.
Mortals are easily persuaded by morals and ideology if it means life after death in a paradise that is not guaranteed. Humans create false narratives to exercise the sick satisfaction of controlling one other. When all is said and done, the real struggle is for power—namely the power to control fate itself.
For those who are destined to roam the world with no such motives, imprisoned in an earthly purgatory, sin and salvation are laughable notions.
There is no reason to live, for you cannot die; Sin knows no bounds and comes with no price.
“The sooner you accept this, the better,” Kunikuzushi laments, his face just inches from yours. The bewitching twinkle in his lavender irises has remained all these centuries, a cruel illusion masking the abyss beneath. “Nothing you say will change my decision.”
You were really quite the picture, if he was being honest, all tied up for him. Kunikuzushi loathed that just the sight of you was enough to make the void in his chest cavity ache with longing. A reminder of his imperfection.
Anyone else would have died a violent death for such a transgression. But you presented a unique opportunity.
“Kuni, please,” you whimpered, your pleas falling on deaf ears. On the contrary, he loves hearing your voice, especially when you beg so earnestly. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong… I’m scared. Please, let me go…”
The puppet hushes you lovingly, his lips brushing against your delicate skin toward your ear. “Hey, now. There’s no need for that. You’re safe with me, little songbird.”
You flinch, gasping and recoiling in fear, turning your head away defiantly. It’s not like you could push him away, your little limbs bound to a tall column in the kitchen nice and tight. Hot tears pricked at your eyes. It burns like hell.
“Untie me, Kuni!” you shrieked, squirming and struggling against the binds to no avail.
He snatches your face firmly between his thumb and two fingers, squishing your cheeks to the point you felt pressure on your skull. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t I explain this to you already? Your heart beats for me from this day forward.”
Frozen in shock, your body stiffens involuntarily as fear floods your veins, rendering you utterly helpless. Even as he gazed upon you with an icy, detached stare, you couldn’t find it within yourself to fault Kuni for this act of desperation. He could never make sense of himself and the pain that came with betrayal after betrayal.
Why even try to embrace humanity if it would mercilessly punish you for not having a heart?
You still remember the day you found him, it was but a coincidence you both crossed paths. Kuni was a wandering traveler, or at least that’s how he introduced himself. He seemed kind enough. You were particularly taken by his appearance, so lovely it was almost inhuman.
It just so happened that you were willing to offer him a place to stay. It took a bit of convincing on your part, actually, but you were worried about the string of murders near your village recently. Someone must have had an insatiable vendetta against the blade-smithing arts, striking them down one by one.
A small knowing smile pulled at his lips, his eyes creasing slightly with amusement as he marveled at how you opened yourself up so easily. This was the first time he had talked to a human in who knows how long. Perhaps since the young boy’s passing many dreadful seasons ago.
Kuni found the void in his chest persuading him to entertain his curiosity about you.
He had to admit, once you both got to know each other, it was quite the impeccable arrangement. During the day, you provided the kind of mundane tranquility and domesticity he had always dreamed of. Thankfully, your residence was in a rural part of the countryside, which offered much appreciated security and seclusion from the world.
Once you were safely tucked into bed and sound asleep, he would lie restlessly in the guest room. Puppets have no need for sleep. On some lonely moonlit nights, he would entertain his own fantasies of you. In the absence of such desires, he was compelled to satisfy his blood thirst.
Though Kuni had long forsaken the human emotions that afflicted his existence with disappointment and abandonment, his burgeoning relationship with you had quickly proven to be the last remaining vestige of his innocent supplication for a purpose.
In fact, he demanded it, after witnessing you day in and day out slipping from his grasp. He was growing impatient, waiting for something more. You had always stopped short of taking a little leap of faith to hold his hand or kiss his forehead, leaving him yearning for your touch and attention. Why?
Even in your presence, he was not alleviated of his turmoil. A number of possibilities plagued him. Were you dissuaded by his artificial constitution? Did he make a fatal miscalculation? God forbid, was there someone else?
No matter how many times he twisted, folded, and bent reality in his mind, trying to make sense of you, he never came to an agreeable conclusion. By the time Kuni realized just how deep you had nestled yourself into the empty husk of his heart, it was too late for the both of you.
All of this mental anguish and pining was unbearable. Unacceptable. He loved you, yes, but needed you more.
The puppet’s chest fluttered as you willingly complied, tears staining your cheeks, but that’s okay. His soft pink lips brushed against your cheek once more, kissing away your precious tears. It was his first taste of you.
Kuni cradled you in his palms like a delicate doll, his thumbs ghosting your cheeks. He leaned in closer, indigo bangs tickling your face and his mouth parted with a breathless question. “Is your heart… truly mine?”
He had broken you, and you had no choice but to nod slowly.
“Say it for me, little songbird,” he encourages you with a warm intonation. His eyes were trained on your lips.
“I-I’m yours,” you replied weakly.
No sooner than you could speak were his plush lips pressed to yours, a breathy hum of relief exhaling through his nose. In turn, you muffled a whimper, overwhelmed by the sensation. He had untied you, knowing you couldn’t hurt him but he could certainly hurt you.
Kuni was gentle at first, relishing in his first kiss with you. He carefully took your wrists to guide your hands to his body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you against him. Still, you trembled in his grasp.
“There’s no need to fear,” he whispers between kisses, holding your face to his. “I will take care of you.”
He can’t bear to leave your lips. Guiding you towards him, he leans against the kitchen counter and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. A small prayer barely escapes his lips. “(Y/N), hold me… touch me… please.”
“Kuni,” you choke out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes again. You are silenced with increasingly fervent kisses, one of his hands trailing down to your neck just by his fingertips, giving you goosebumps in the wake of his featherlight touch.
“You are going to give yourself to me. Your heart is my heart, and I will not have you hiding any part of yourself from me,” his voice grows a bit more insistent, closing his fingers around your throat as a threat, but not yet squeezing. “Do you understand?”
You give a feeble nod, unable to look at him directly. Every time your gaze locked with his, it sent a pang of terror jolting through your fragile body. He brings you closer by your neck, kissing you with more confidence than before. There is a little part of you that is worried you are unable to discern fear from excitement.
The puppet lets his hand slip further, fingertips finding the contour of your chest. He hesitates briefly, then allows his palm to feel your plump breast. The act was enough to elicit a little whine from you, and he knew right then and there that he had to hear it again.
“Do you… have any inclination of how long I waited for you?” he whispers hotly onto your lips, feeling down your waist at an excruciatingly slow pace. He smoothed each wrinkle of your dress with his thumb, tracing the silhouette of your figure down until he felt the hem of your underwear through the thin fabric. His breath caught.
You were still not as receptive to his advances as he would like, and suddenly he scoops you up to hook your legs around his hips, pressing your back against the nearest wall in the hallway. Kuni was beginning to reveal his desperation for you in more ways than one, breathing a little heavier. He was determined to have you submit to him and if you weren’t responsive to his soft side, then so be it.
“Answer me,” Kuni lowers his voice with a commanding edge, his lips just inches from your neck while his messy indigo bangs tickled your jaw. You whimpered, involuntarily moving your hips against him at the mere thought of his mouth on you.
At long last, you found your voice—delicate and decadent with a tinge of spine-prickling anticipation. Perhaps you had lost part of yourself, your humanity, in him too. “H-how long, Kuni?”
You shivered slightly, feeling his mouth spread into a satisfied smile against the sensitive skin of your neck. His voice deepens further, sultry and needy, “Lifetimes… I’ve been so goddamn purposeless for too many fucking lifetimes, just waiting for you.”
Without warning, the touch-starved puppet sunk his teeth into the crevice of your shoulder at the base of your throat, sucking at the weak spot to bruise the skin with his mark. A surprised yelp fell from your mouth, and you so nicely turned your head to offer him more. He clutched your curves tightly, as if he was secretly wishing your bodies would just melt into each other.
Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum…
Your precious heartbeat echoed through his chambers of his chest. Kuni craved that little pulse of yours, chasing it up your neck in heated, sloppy kisses. All the while, you encouraged him with sweet little sounds of pleasure, softly asking for more under your breath.
“It’s mine,” he reiterated, perhaps to help immortalize the sensation against his lips. With a faint growl and yet another love bite, he added, “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”
If only he could be bothered to pull back and catch a glimpse of how the puppet had unraveled you beyond recognition, equally as intoxicated by the heat of the moment. No matter. He will have his fill of you in due time.
“Y-yours, mhmm,” you capture his wet lips halfway, experimentally swirling your tongue with his passionately. You were clinging onto his shoulders, entangling your fingers in the soft ends of his pretty hair resting on the back of his neck.
With a faint moan against your mouth, Kuni lifted you once more by slipping his hands under your dress to feel his digits press into the soft flesh of your ass. It was light work to carry you, giving him the opportunity to squeeze and smack your ass with a smirk.
Slipping into your bedroom, he set you down and turned you around by your hips so that you were facing the tall mirror just a few feet away from the mattress. He leans over your shoulder from behind and you blush heavily at the image reflected by the mirror. Both of his beautiful hands traveled up your body simultaneously, one feeling your stomach, ribs, breast, and resting around the bottom of your throat.
The other, however, caught the frilly ends of your dress, sliding it up your skin at a painstakingly slow rate. Kuni’s violet irises shimmered with obsessive desire, admiring every inch of your body that was exposed to him. He bunches the dress in his fist as he raises it above your hips, revealing the most angelic lacy undergarments accented with cute little ballerina pink ribbons. Kuni chuckled, his breath tickling your neck.
“Do me a favor, darling,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly. He takes his time to unveil your breasts, each one perfectly shaped with lovely nipples begging to be pinched. “Open your mouth.”
You comply, watching yourself in the mirror with curious fascination, before Kuni stuffs the thin, light fabric of your dress into your mouth. He nibbles your ear playfully. “Hold that for me.”
His eyes marvel at your body. If you told him you were a goddess, he would believe you without hesitation. Divine or not, the puppet was hell-bent on worshipping you like he had been dreaming of. Kuni played with the intricate lace of your snow white lingerie, his thumb brushing your pelvis teasingly.
Instead, he takes two fingers and caresses your folds outside of the undergarment, pleased to feel your panties dampened with excitement. You quiver at the touch, moaning faintly. Kuni is enthralled by the sweet noise, taking the tiny lingerie by his thumbs and sweeping it down your pretty legs.
He immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling you into his lap and spreading your legs apart with his knees. There it was in the mirror. Your glistening flower framed with the loveliest soft petals.
Kuni couldn’t possibly restrain himself when you were presented so exquisitely, wasting no time to slide his fingers over your pussy. You groaned in pleasure, muffled by the dress in your mouth, relaxing against his chest as the puppet focused on rubbing circles around your clit. He kissed your neck and shoulders endlessly, admiring your reactions in the mirror and whispering lowly, “So good for me. So, so good for me, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”
Your thighs trembled. You desperately wanted to close your legs as his movements became faster on your clit, the stimulation swiftly overcoming you. Breathy moans soon evolved into incoherent pleas. Kuni held you steadfast with his legs, keeping you spread all nice, admiring how you twitched beneath him.
“What did I tell you?” his tone is one of warning, groping your right breast and littering your skin with a few more marks. “There are consequences to hiding yourself from me.”
The puppet suddenly swipes his middle finger over your leaking hole—causing you to moan lewdly—before slapping your pussy. It was a light but firm slap, sending an addicting concoction of both pain and pleasure through you.
After a brief moment, he returns to your folds to trace and admire it, then continuing his ministrations on your clit. Occasionally Kuni would let a finger slip to tease your entrance, finding that it drove you crazy.
“P-please, please, Kuni,” your words quivered like your body, bending easily to the pleasure he was so kindly bestowing you. It had to have been the hundredth small cry for relief tumbling from your throat, you were on the precipice of your climax. “I-I need it. Something, anything… fuck me.”
“You better not cum on my fingers,” the puppet orders, gathering your slick and gently inserting two fingers into your warm walls. You whined in frustrated pleasure as he stretched you slightly, pumping his digits in and out of you barely an inch but keeping you stuffed.
“I c-can’t, I’m…” you babble. Kuni knew you were on the brink already, but he wanted to at least try to prepare you for his cock. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, and with it escapes your climax. Tears were almost pricking your eyes. You could definitely feel them beneath the surface.
He slaps your pussy again as punishment for not listening to his commands. “Greedy sluts are not rewarded.”
“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble and he grunts, pushing you off of him and to your knees in front of the bed. Kuni makes quick work of his clothes, tossing his shirt aside and pulling his pants down enough to spring his throbbing cock free. You had certainly felt his hard length while you were in his lap, but seeing it rendered you speechless.
No different from the rest of the puppet’s beautiful body, Kuni’s cock was perfect. A few veins wrapped around his hard member, bulging under the flesh. Towards the tip, it was gradually flushed pink with hot need, a pearl of precum on his slit. You took him in your hand, butterflies swarming your stomach with the realization that he had more girth than you expected.
Kuni grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved your face toward his cock with a simple demand. “Suck.”
You experimentally drag your tongue underneath his cock, licking your lips, and working your mouth on his tip to lubricate him first. Kuni’s eyes roll in the back of his head, resting one hand behind him on the bed as he moans deeply. “Fuck, (Y/N)…”
The sensation of you smiling with his cock in your mouth sent warmth through him. You eagerly fit more of him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue just the way he likes it when you received praise. Yet, Kuni needed more.
“You can do better than that,” he scoffed.
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing your throat completely down on his cock just to feel it once. The puppet twitched in your throat, letting out a seductive growl of pleasure. You gagged slightly, before pulling back with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You coughed a little, but he cupped your chin and wiped it from your mouth sweetly.
“That’s my girl,” Kuni coos, guiding you up on the bed next to him and pushing you down onto your back. As much as he’d love to see you taking him in your mouth all evening, he had a prize more tantalizing waiting for him. Clothes on the floor, moonlight pouring over you both, the puppet vowed to never forget how you mewled as he dragged the pulsing tip of his cock along your wet folds.
Gasping, you achingly bucked your hips in tandem, utterly drunk on the delicious sensation of his thick length parting your pussy lips. You loved to be teased, that much was for sure and Kuni ate it up—the desperate crinkle of your brow in pleasure and how your breath became short.
He presses his tip at your warm hole, but never pushes it in.
You groan dramatically, sweat already forming on your forehead and you haven’t even began. Every bit of pressure he applies has you smitten, imagining the moment he finally fills you. “K-Kuni…”
The smug puppet smirks down at you knowingly, grinding his cock against you repeatedly, rubbing your clit just right. “Yes, my little songbird? Have something to say?”
Before you can speak, he kisses you to muffle your answer. You grow even more impatient, using your legs to keep his hips locked close to yours. Kuni peppers your jawline and neck with kisses and little playful licks of his tongue. “I’m listening.”
“Please,” you beg.
Kuni’s tone is unreadable. “Please what? Use your words.”
You give him a flustered look of desperation and he pins your hands on either side of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You reply, biting your lower lip, “Fuck m-me, Kuni.”
A smile graces his face and his eyes soften, thumbs caressing your hand comfortingly to brace you for his length. “Is this… your first time, (Y/N)?”
Though you were a shy and kindhearted person, he should’ve known from the way you deepthroated his cock earlier that it wasn’t your first. He wasn’t your first. That means someone else was. Someone else defiled you.
Kuni’s electric purple eyes darkened like an impending storm as you shook your head.
“Indulge me,” the puppet asks. “What other men have been in my position?”
You are not in the right state of mind, still insatiably yearning for your climax and grinding your wet folds on his length. However, Kuni doesn’t accept your nonsensical mumblings and half-answers. His hands tighten around yours, pushing his cock into you with a guttural moan inch by inch until he bottoms out completely.
“Oh my fucking god,” you sputter out, sighing in sweet relief and a bit of pain. Your pussy is filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out good. You try to turn your head away and close your eyes, but Kuni refuses to let you.
“That’s right,” Kuni’s voice is nothing short of alluring in the most raw way possible. “Treat me like your god and fucking look at me while you take my cock.”
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t also utterly euphoric as he sinks his large member into your tight walls. Gritting his teeth, he’s taken aback by how you squeeze him unknowingly, even your subconscious is unable to deny the pleasure he’s giving you. It took you a few seconds to adjust to his girth, your eyes drifting down his muscular chest and toned abdomen in admiration.
With the first drag of his cock out of you to his tip, hushed hum of pleasures are murmured by each of you, until he buries himself all the way back into you. Kuni continues in this rhythm with a few thrusts, unable to his stifle his own moans. He was no better, his climax already building within.
Pulling back, the puppet releases your hands to push your legs against your chest by your thighs to get just the right angle and perfect view of your folds. He hovers above you, fucking just his hot bulbous tip into your needy hole. In mere seconds, you cursed to yourself at how good it felt when he brushed against your sensitive entrance.
Your clit pulsated for attention. How could he not press his palm onto your pelvis and drag his thumb across the slightly swollen bud? His half-thrusts became shakier as you unexpectedly tightened around his cock—moans freely and loudly erupting from your throat. The feeling was beyond exhilarating and convinced him to push you to your limits.
“You think I’m going to let any other man put his hands on you like this?” Kuni sneers with jealous envy reflecting in his irises. “I’ll fucking snap his neck. I’d kill him.”
Impulsively, the obsessed puppet roughly plunges his entire cock into your soft pussy. He relishes in your loud moan of shock at the pleasure and slight discomfort in splitting you wide open. His cock pushes against that wonderful spot deep inside you, incredibly sensitive after all his torturous teasing. You were seeing more than stars.
“I bet they couldn’t fuck you like I can,” he scoffs, possessively pulling your closer by your legs and holding your ankles on his shoulders as he fucks you mercilessly. “Make you scream like I can. And—nghh—breed you.”
You were finer than a work of art, truly, in all your fucked-out glory as you chase your high on his thick cock. His thumb flitting over your clit messily, primal groans of bliss echoing throughout the bedroom at every divine flutter of your pussy milking his cock so well. Your words were simply unintelligible, mumbling breathy prayers wishing for his seed.
“No one can take you away from me,” Kuni himself is beginning to tremble with pleasure, but nevertheless he keeps up his brutal pace. Every crevice of your walls and your womb will know his essence. “You’re mine, and I’ll burn the whole damn world for you if that’s what it takes.”
In a rush of jealous envy at the mere thought of losing you, the puppet abruptly pushes your legs back onto your beautiful breasts by his chest. The erotic melody of your fluids coating the base of his cock and v-line with every sloppy thrust pushes you both over the edge of an impossible free fall of euphoria.
“Cum on me, (Y/N). C’mon, cum all over my fucking cock,” Kuni demands with salacious desperation, pounding into you again and again until you’ve ridden out every second of your climax. The sensation is indescribable as he swears he could feel your rapid heartbeat through your walls—your heartbeat in his hands like he’s the supreme god of your body.
And as such, he blesses you with ropes of hot cum to drown your pussy in his everlasting love. Kuni collapses and cradles you, wiping the tears of pleasure from your sweet, angelic cheeks.
Righteousness means nothing to gods, for whom salvation is too late and sin knows no price.
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thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist
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charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Yes yes, I know. Part 9 for Charmed Slasher is coming out soon, I promise.
BUT! I had this Thought and just had to do it real quick!
(CW for violent imagery and actual violence)
Simon's been watching you for weeks.
You're such a sweet, quiet thing. Shy. Happy to let your coworkers lead conversations, chiming in only when directly addressed. You smile like sun peeking through clouds, slow and beaming, prying through darkness.
And they way you peer up through your eyelashes, the corners of your mouth tipping up. Oh, oh... he wants to ruin you.
Thinks of you while he strokes himself in bed, looking up at him through those thick lashes. Sticking together with unshed tears as you choke on his cock. That quietly pleased smile when he purrs that you're doing so well, almost halfway there...
It's becoming a distraction, this preoccupation with you. So many others just let their eyes slide over you, but not Simon. No, he sees you.
That you shred your bottom lip bloody when you're deep in thought. You wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut when you're trying not to sneeze. Always burn your mouth on your first sip of coffee.
He watches you in your home. The way you curl up with your favorite blanket, leaned up against the arm of the couch. A perfect open space for him to share with you. He memorizes your routines and imagines slotting himself into your life.
He shouldn't. That's not going to stop him.
Price has been staring at him hard when he thinks Simon won't notice. Gaz has been jumpier; the recruits whispering more fervently. They can sense him slipping; too many missions. Too much bloodshed. It's soaked past clothes and skin, muscle and marrow. His soul, if he has one, must be drenched crimson.
He needs an anchor to keep him from floating adrift in this sea of blood.
He's found you. So precious. So delicate. He couldn't let himself be too rough with you; you'd break so easily. Oh, his hands itch to break you down piece by piece like his favorite gun. Gut you and clean you out, only to put you back together again with his own hands, his initials stamped into you.
There's no salvation for someone like him, but you're all the Paradise he needs.
And then you go and do such a stupid, silly thing.
You go on a date. Look like something he wants to stain in your clingy jeans and low-cut top. Hair done just so. He wants to see it sweaty and tangled after burying his fingers in it; his vision goes red at the thought of anyone else getting that honor.
But no... no. It's not your fault, really. You don't know any better. But you will. You will very, very soon.
Simon watches your date greet you outside, slip an arm around your waist like it belongs there. Like you belong to anyone but Simon. The only things that saves the man from a bloody end right there is that you gently extricate yourself to go inside.
He seethes on the sidewalk across the street, fingers twitching for his Ka-Bar. The images of his initials on your perfect skin is burned behind his eyelids, and afterimage superimposing itself over his vision.
It's time you knew who you belong to.
--
Your father always said you have a temper like the Devil. Didn’t understand what he meant as a sunshine six-year-old, giggling after butterflies and munching on cheese sticks. Your parents’ pride and joy, their first and only babygirl.
You understood later, though, standing at the broken window and watching a pool of blood spread and spread and spread….. like leaving a marker tip on the page too long.
You’re Old Testament wrathful, fire and brimstone, churning beneath a lake of oil and ink. Pitch black, iridescent rainbow on the surface, too thick to realize what roils beneath until one misstep breaks that molecular tension—
Rage will boil up in your stomach, scorch your chest. Burns acidic in your throat and stains your teeth on venom. You don’t drown in anger, you wade into it until you float.
Not to say that you’re an angry person. You’re not. Not much to bother being angry about, by your estimate. Disappointed, resigned, annoyed, exasperated - sure. But the raw fury that sharpens your teeth and claws? It’s an energy expenditure your mind hardly ever feels the need to spark.
But there are some things…
“C’mon don’t be a fucking prude.” He’s drunk. He’s drunk and pushy and you feel your ribs expand, expand, expand…
“You fuckin’ owe me something.”
You show a little too much canine as you reply. “Because you bought me a couple drinks I didn’t ask for?”
“Fuckin’ spoiled bitch. Wha’ else d’you want, huh? Fuckin’ money?”
He pushes you. Your shoulders bump the alley wall behind you. The sky is so so dark above, no clouds, no moon. Even next to trash, the stink of that awful whiskey burns your nose.
You think of broken windows and blooms of blood.
“Just fuckin’ get on your knees.”
“No.”
“The fuck do you jus’ - it wasn’t a fuckin’—”
“No.”
His face twists, ugly and red (not the right shade of red) puffing up like a particularly loud bird.
“C’mere, you little—“
It’s nothing, nothing at all. A sidestep and a full-body shove. Your timing is perfect. You didn’t touch your second drink when your nail polish turned black.
Your “date” however, is wobbly and uncoordinated, you lean forwards on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Watch him bounce off the brick, stumble over a couple overfilled bags, and crack his temple on the metal corner of the dumpster.
You tilt your head as he collapses in a pathetic heap, barely conscious. Make a point to roll him over onto his back. The last sky he’ll ever see with any luck. You lean your foot into his stomach, watch him turn pale and then green. He’s not going to be able to roll over before all that drink comes up.
Satisfied, you step back as you brush brick dust and dirt from your pants and sleeves. Movement at the head of the alley catches your attention, but by the time you look, the disturbance is gone. Likely someone just passing by. You don’t care if you're wrong.
Below you, the man - you never bothered to actually remember his name - gurgles and starts to rasp wetly. The fury ebbs, a tide dragging out with bloody foam at the edge. You let out a slow, satisfied sigh and navigate to the alley's entrance.
You've barely stepped from the shadows of the buildings when there's a sharp pinch in your neck. The world goes black in seconds.
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biggameplayertrentaa · 5 months
Text
I. Trippin', Fallin'
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word count: 3.1k
warning: smut 18+
summary: fwb!jude wants more while the reader just wants to protect her heart.
author’s note: this is a three-part series that will contain angst, smut, and fluff. above is/are the song (s) that coincide with this part! let me know what you think!
“No one knows I’m a whore though.”
 Jude’s words were spoken into the clothed crevice of the pillow tucked between his forearm and chin, so his defensive whine came out muffled. The two of you had begun to bicker before he even had the chance to pull out of you. In an orgasmed-induced haze, Jude had finally confessed his desire to finally make you his girlfriend.  Your reaction to this was to scoff and call him a whore, given his (well-concealed yet still notorious) playboy persona. Not exactly what he was hoping for, but it was exactly what he was expecting given your typical abrasive demeanor—a demeanor that had never waivered in his six months of knowing and fucking you. It was also typically a turn-on, but given the fact that he had just confessed his feelings for you (sorta), your attitude made him wish that the bed he was currently lying on would swallow him whole.    
Jude was on his tummy, back bare, and showing off the red stripes that decorated its muscular surface—a testament to the steamy events that had just transpired between the two of you. What was not, was your current ice-cold attitude toward the twenty-year-old midfielder. Just a mere five minutes ago, you were moaning in his ear, telling him that your pussy was his as you pathetically begged him to let you cum around him. Now your back was to him as you hastily got ready, eyes trained on taming the mess that had formed at the top of your head. Jude’s eyes—practically heart-shaped and pulsating like that of an animated cartoon character—slithered over your frame admirably.
“I do, though." You state, fingers now moving to tackle the dark red marks that Jude had littered down the length of your neck. You hated that; you weren’t his to be marked, yet he did it every single time you found yourself entangled in his sheets. He swore it was just a habit, but you knew Jude better than that—he was claiming you. “Also, I would like to—once again—remind you that this was your idea, Jude.” You stated in a tone that made it difficult for him to form a quick rebuttal. 
You got him there.
It was Jude’s idea to keep your arrangement completely sexual. In all honesty, when he had made this decision, the thought of making it anything more was incredibly frightening to him; Jude simply did not feel as if he was good enough for you. With your brilliant mind and dazzling personality, you were just as welcoming as you were intimidating to him. Dating you meant stepping up to a plate that was far too daunting for a twenty-year-old boy. This coupled with the limitless supply of women at his convenience and disposal due to his profession, propelled Jude to establish the boundary with you early—right before you even slept with him, in fact— to deter a possible messy situation.
Having just gotten out of a terrible long-term relationship, you accepted this agreement. A friends-with-benefits arrangement was safe for you; there was distance in the agreement, a barrier that would make it impossible for anyone to bring you back to the state you were in your previous relationship. Jude knew this and for a while, he understood it…until a particularly intimate night that went beyond the typical sex. It had started with a silly conversation on the couch that had suddenly transformed into a deep heart-to-heart. A heart-to-heart that exposed aspects of Jude he had always tried desperately to conceal from everyone. It took practically no effort for you to pull this out of him; Jude felt safe with you, whole. You had opened up too and just like that, the imaginary line that you both had established was crossed. That night truly sealed Jude’s fate and he’s been harboring feelings for you—silently for two months—ever since.
You heard the bed creak and moan as Jude moved to get off it. With his eyes never leaving yours in the reflection of the mirror, he finally settles behind, pressing his bare chest flush to your, now, jumper-covered back. Jude’s mouth parts, but it remains motionless and without sound. The proximity had caused a warm sensation to form in the pit of his stomach which left him confused—having never experienced it before—and ultimately mute. Your arms were still limp by your side, eyes attempting to settle on anything and everything except the ones boring into you via the reflection of the mirror. Determined to keep the armor around your heart secured and unfaltering, you slip out of his grasp and continue your efforts to get dressed. You hear Jude groan behind you, but you ignore him.
“What are you scared of?” Jude’s words are harsh, laced heavy with genuine hurt and confusion.
“I am not scared of anything,” You lie.
The only thing you had left to put on were your shoes. Thankfully, you had left them by the front door making your desperation to get away from Jude seem less haste and more natural. Jude trails behind, resembling a clingy puppy that couldn’t bear going five minutes without its owner.
“You said this is just sex. I give you just sex and you complain.” You’re breathless as you attempt to quickly slip on your sneakers. “You know, most guys would kill for this.”
“Well, I am not most guys.” Jude cringes the second the words leave his lips; so cliche, but still very true in this instance. With a final kiss to his cheek, you open his front door and step out into the bitter Madrid air. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but the autumn had matured, leaving the temperature crisp and the skies cloudy. The oversized jumper you currently adorned (courtesy of Jude) did a fantastic job of making the weather bearable though. Of course, Jude follows you out the door.
“You’re not like most guys.” It’s almost mocking the way you say it, but Jude only allows himself to dwell on the beautiful smile that accompanies the words. “Are you going to that thing tonight?” Asks Jude, referring to Real Madrid’s annual Christmas dinner. It was a pointless question; you worked in the communications department of the club, of course, you would be there, but Jude wanted to prolong your time together.
“Considering I work at the club, yes, I will be there Jude.” You roll your eyes, biting your lips to conceal the small smile that was threatening to reveal itself; Jude wasn’t slick in his efforts to keep you hostage. It was adorable, flattering even but you would rather braid blades of dry grass than admit that to the (already cocky) man in front of you. “Cool, me too.” He responds lamely, leaning against his front doorframe as his brain turns itself over in a desperate search for another question to keep you there with him.
But he isn’t quick enough.
With an amused glint in your eye, you curtly nod and turn on your heel. “Cool,” You parrot over your shoulder, “I’ll see you there, then.”
***
Five times.
Jude was referred to as “Belligol” five times tonight and he hadn’t even been at the dining hall for 20 minutes. Given his picture-perfect start at the Spanish club, Jude was a hot commodity that everyone on the club’s executive board wanted to make conversation with. They thought kissing his ass would flatter him, and if his mind wasn’t already occupied with thoughts of you, it would have. You were seated at the table directly across from him, taking occasional sips of the red wine in your hands. By your side was Alejandro, your coworker, and Jude’s arch-nemesis. Jude was convinced the man was in love with you, and would constantly try to indoctrinate you into believing his little conspiracy, but you weren’t having it. Alejandro was friendly and even if he did like you, you were uninterested.
Since Jude had arrived, Alejandro hadn’t left your side which frustrated him beyond words. He had come with a plan of sitting by you, pleading his case, and ending the night with you in his bed possessing the title of his girlfriend. But the fucking leech seated to your right made this incredibly difficult to execute. Jude clenches his jaw when he sees Alejandro lean into you and whisper something in your ear. It is an unbearable, nauseating sight that makes him see red and fantasize about doing something violent to the—otherwise innocent— man occupying the space beside you.
He hates that he feels this way— possessive. Jude knows that it is not right, let alone fair but it is difficult to suppress the nasty feeling Ms.jealousy tends to leave sitting on his chest and resting uncomfortably in his stomach when it comes to you.
He isn’t aware he is staring until your eyes finally meet his, and suddenly the abhorrent feeling he has is replaced with one of weightless warmth. Your left eye drops subtly into a wink and Jude can’t help but to attempt mirror you. He, of course, fails; both of his eyelids drop to form a singular blink. The toothy grin that plasters across your face makes Jude forget to be embarrassed. With Alejandro still in your ear, you softly nod toward the direction of the dining hall’s corridor with a quirked brow and a daring smile. Jude furrows his brow in mock confusion and tilts his chin slightly in the direction of the unsuspecting man beside you in a move that says, and what about him? You answer him by creating distance between you and Alejandro. With a triumphant smile, Jude watches as you hastily utter some sort of excuse to the poor man and your tablemates before making your way into the corridor. He waits, anxiously, for about two minutes before offering a lame excuse to his own table. When Jude is finally in the corridor, you are nowhere to be found. His eyes immediately scan the area, finally landing on the cracked storage room closet door just a few feet away from where he stood. Just as he had suspected, you were waiting for him in the closest, perched teasingly along the walls of the small space. You were looking at your watch-less wrist in mock annoyance.
“Took you long enough.”
Jude says nothing as he moves to stand in front of you, closing the door with his foot right before he does so. Trapping you between his chest and the wall, he cups your chin, forcing you to loll your head back to look up at him. You look absolutely stunning in your white sweater dress; the fabric hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve and dip he had become so keenly acquainted with in the last six months. Jude leans in, breath fanning lightly over your face, but his eyes remain trained intently on yours. You immediately sink into his embrace, not only accustomed to his presence but also incredibly comfortable and familiar with it. Your breathing is strained and your heartbeat erratic as he brushes his nose against yours. His eyes flutter shut. Subtly licking the chap from his lips, he hovers them over your puckered ones for a split second before closing the slither of distance between the two of you.
Instinctively, you wrap your arm around his neck, pressing yourself to him as you attempt to deepen the kiss. Jude wasn’t having it. He didn’t care that his teammates and your coworkers would grow suspicious of your absence and maybe even go looking for the two of you. He finally had you exactly where he wanted you; he would be foolish to waste this moment with hasty, sloppy touches. So he keeps the kiss slow and loving, only allowing for his tongue to thrust past the barrier of your lips after you had seized in your attempts to take control of the kiss. You moan when his tongue strokes yours, the knot in your stomach only tightening as you anticipate his next touches. Jude smiles at the sound, bending down slightly to signal you to jump. You immediately oblige, wrapping your legs around his waist, not once separating yourself from his lips.
“What do you want?” He asks teasingly and embarrassingly breathless. You attempt to kiss him again, but Jude dodges you. You roll your eyes; he was going to be difficult tonight. “I said,” He begins, one of his fingers moving to the area between your thighs that was already wet and ready with anticipation. Jude moves your panties to the side expertly. He gatherers your arousal with his index and middle finger and bites his lip. “What do you want?” The words are spoken lowly into your ear. His two fingers are hovering just above your clit; if you moved even a centimeter you could brush up against them. You were throbbing and completely over the little game Jude was attempting to play. He was achingly hard, you could feel the outline of his dick on your thigh. No doubt, if you reached between the two of you and dipped a hand in his briefs, his tip would be wet with precum. The thought only intensified both of your heartbeats.
“I want you to fuck me.” You say, not seeing the point in prolonging the back-and-forth bantered tango the two of you always engaged in before he fucked you. “You want me to fuck you yet you were flirting with Alejandro?” Jude quips, but he still chooses to move his two digits against you in tight, pressured circles. You suck in a breath, immediately laying your forehead on his shoulder.
“I wasn’t-” the words are strangled, labored, and breathless, “I wasn’t flirting. He was flirting.” You moan. Jude lets out a breathless laugh. “He was flirting and you did nothing to stop it?” His pace increases making it difficult for you to come up with a response. But Jude didn’t care, “I asked you a question.”
Your eyes snapped to his and if looks could kill, Jude would’ve dropped to his knees. “Why should I stop it?” You retort, brows still furrowed heavily in pleasure; you don’t care how good he was making you feel, you weren’t going to reward his audacious and entitled behavior. Jude says nothing. He instead removes his fingers from you and places you back on the ground. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips, and are already making moves to beg for him, deciding that your pride is not going to get in the way of a mindblowing orgasm. The toying of his belt is what silences you. In a few swift motions, Jude’s black trousers and briefs were pooled at his ankle on the floor. With your bottom lip tucked tightly between your teeth, your eyes darted between his and his already hardened length. Just like you suspected, the very tip of it was dripping in a sticky clear substance. Your mouth watered, wanting nothing more than to revel in the way he tasted and sounded by getting on your knees for him.
As if he sensed this, Jude teasingly fists his shaft, slowly dragging up in a jerking motion. His eyes flutter shut at the contact, mouth parting to form a lazy O. You moan when he spreads his precum across his tip, knowing the lubrication only contributed to the pleasure he was surely already experiencing. Jude continues his game for only a minute more. You are completely conflicted, not sure if you were enjoying the show or jealous that you weren’t able to participate. Jude doesn’t allow you to dwell on the thought much longer before he has you trapped against the wall again, legs wrapped tightly around his hips. He pushes your underwear to the side again, lightly running his sensitive tip across your pulsating clit. You suck in a breath, bucking your hips in hopes of slipping him inside of you, but the grip he currently had on your waist made it nearly impossible. After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel him push into you. He’s practically still, only allowing a couple of inches of himself inside you at a time. He does this a couple of times—thrusts just his tip into you before pulling out—before he finally bottoms out, hips pressing flushed to yours. Jude swallows your moans, silencing you with a fiery kiss as he stroked into your heated, velvet walls. You wrapped around him in almost a glove-like manner, molding around him as if a higher power specifically made your pussy for him
Jude suddenly replaces his lips with his palm, “Why should you stop it?” Jude begins words spoken just inches away from your ear in a low tone. He was already close—the heated knot in the pit of his stomach and his wavering thrust was evidence of that–but he continued his relentless rhythm. He had a point to prove, “You should stop it because you know no one, especially not Alejandro–” his name is spoken between clenched teeth, “could fuck you the way I do.” He accompanies this statement with a particularly hard thrust that forces you to whimper against his hand. Jude moans at the sounds, completely obsessed and enamored with the way he and his dick could make you feel. You were clenching around him, walls contracting around him at a steady rhythm while you brought your hips to meet his.
“You should stop because you know that you are already mine, ” Jude moves from your ear so he can lock his eyes on yours, determined to make you feel them, “you’re just in denial.” Your legs are shaking now, pussy still quivering and Jude knew that it was only a matter of time before you came undone. “Right, baby?” He coos, still wanting to take full advantage of having you at his mercy, knowing that once you cum, the playing field will be immediately unleveled and favoring you.
“You’re mine, yea?” He continued to press, strokes now slowed so he could hit the deepest parts of you. Your eyes are brimming with euphoric laced tears as you attempt to ignore his questioning and focus on how he is currently making you feel. Your breathing had shallowed against his palm, fingers, and toes tingling as a wave of burning pleasure washed over you. Your ears were ringing but you could still faintly hear Jude’s possessive, yet sweet words of encouragement as he brought you to the edge.
You almost gave in.
With only a second away from finally tipping over, you wanted to scream out, “I’m yours!” as you came. But having trained your mind well, the only words that left your lips as your orgasm forcefully ripped through you was a very strangled, “If you want me, earn me!” These were the words that ultimately caused Jude to stumble into his own orgasm, for some reason. They resonated, echoing in his head as he rode out his high, eyes still heavily trained on yours.
Challenge accepted.
author’s final thots:
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lesbiangiratina · 5 months
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Btw
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azullumi · 4 months
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“it’s a quarter after one, i’m all alone, and i need you now” ; wanderer
summary — how does he react to you calling him in the middle of the night over some silly reason?
pairing — wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, established relationship, modern settings, not proof-read (i never proof-read) ; ficlet/scenario
words — 760
note — how do people even write dialogues rhat smoothly like i write a single sentencd of whatever they’re saying and i just think, “oh no they won’t say that” and i have to rewrite it 5 more times
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a loud sound of a ring echoes throughout the room, disrupting the peaceful flow of tranquil silence that rests in the corners of the place, and abruptly pulling him out of his sleep. wanderer groans, hand reaching out to grab his phone that sits on the nightstand.
the flash of the screen blinded him for a moment, causing him to squint his eyes until his vision adjusted to the brightness.
1:15. the numbers on the very top of his screen says. displayed along with it was your caller id, your contact saved as a nickname that he gave you.
although he didn’t have to question who was calling him at this time as he knew it was you—you were the only exception to his do not disturb focus of his phone, the only contact whose notifications can go through the strict barriers of the status.
the persistent melody continues to ring for a moment before he answers, “this better be important.” despite the nature of his words, there lingered no hint of malice in his tone but instead, a curious blend of weary patience and unspoken understanding. he didn’t mind you bothering him even if it’s nothing important—your intrusion was always a welcome one.
“hey, were you sleeping?”
“not anymore, obviously. what is it?” the line carried the subtle rustle of movement, the telltale sound of rustled sheets, as wanderer shifted and sat upright from where he was, his head resting against the headboard as he waited for you to answer.
“can you accompany me as i go get water?”
a confused ‘huh?’ comes out from his line. just the single syllable itself wrapped with layers of many words, asking you if you were seriously saying that. if you really called him at this time just so you could have him accompany you with the mundane task of getting water.
“i just watched something scary, okay? it’s not my
fault that the house in the movie looked similar to mine and also do you know what time—don’t laugh!”
“are you genuinely afraid over something as trivial as that?” wanderer says amidst the fading echoes of his laughter, leaving a ghost of what might pass for a smile on his expression. he seems amused over the predicament that you were having; that is just like him, finding entertainment in your suffering.
“whatever, i’m going to go get my water now.” what proceeded was the sound of your footsteps, indicating your journey to the kitchen. “don’t you dare hang up on me.”
“i wasn’t planning to.”
and as if i would. but the unspoken words dissolved on his throat before he could even get himself to say it, leaving him with nothing but silence as he listened to your voice instead, talking about whatever as if a soothing balm that eases the fear which nestles in your nerves.
“i saw this cat earlier this morning and it was so grumpy. it reminded me of you.”
“you think that in every grumpy cat that you see.”
“well, you act like one.”
in that moment, the simple act of conversing between you two becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between fear and solace. your topics jumped from one point to another, never letting the silence fill in the moment—wanderer never ceases to respond to whatever you say, a testament of how he’s always there for you despite the playful teasing sprinkled throughout.
there was the sound of the door closing before he hears you say: “got my water now.”
“figured.”
silence envelopes both sides of the line, albeit, it only lasted for a short moment before being broken up by your voice.
“thanks for picking up the phone.” i mean, he could have chosen to just ignore the ring and continue to sleep but no, he didn’t. instead, he chose to answer and comply with your silly little request because your ass was too scared to go out of your room in the middle of the night, thinking that someone or something was going to come after and chase you just like that one scene in what you watched. he stayed with you all throughout, letting the comfort of his voice dispel the shadows that threatened to linger—even when he was scaring you and telling you that he can hear something.
“not like i don’t answer every time.” you could call him, ring his phone many times no matter what time it is, and he would pick up the phone every single time; that’s just how he is, for you and only you.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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His Forever Valentine.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
authors note - happy valentines day you sexy people, mwah !!
word count - 4.3k
in which, you and harry have been each others valentines for what seems like forever, it all started back in 2014, and now, in 2024, your love story is still going strong, so when you look back on memories from over the years, the two of you realise just how far you’ve really come.
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February 14th, 2024.
You let out a soft huff.
Last night, you and your husband had taken part in some secret little rendezvous and that had meant that clothes were discarded all over the floor, which you had left until this morning to be cleaned up.
So now, here you were.
As you tidy up the bedroom, picking up clothes strewn across the floor, your foot suddenly collides with something solid.
You glance down and notice a shoebox with "Valentine's Day" scrawled across the lid. Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up, recognizing it as the container for your cherished Polaroid camera and the collection of snapshots you and your husband have taken on Valentine's Days past.
With a gentle tug, you open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of memories captured in instant film. Each photograph tells a story of love, laughter, and shared moments over the years.
You smile as you sift through the images, remembering the joy of each Valentine's Day celebration spent together.
The camera nestled among the Polaroids brings back memories of spontaneous snapshots, impromptu poses, and candid shots captured in the heat of the moment. It's a tangible reminder of the love that has grown and deepened between you and your husband since you first embarked on this journey together.
As you hold the camera in your hands, you're transported back to those special moments frozen in time. From romantic dinners to adventurous outings, each Polaroid is a testament to the bond you share and the memories you've created together.
You can't help but laugh softly as you descend the stairs, the shoebox cradled carefully in your arms. Entering the living room, you find your husband seated, still clad in his workout attire from his early morning gym session.
As you approach him, you place the box gently on his lap, causing him to look up at you with a puzzled expression, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he registers the unexpected gift.
"It was tucked away in the bedroom," you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. "I thought it would be nice to take a trip down memory lane together."
Feeling his warm lips pressing against the top of your head, you lean into his affectionate gesture, savoring the moment of closeness. As he opens up the box and pulls out the first Polaroid, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.
The image captures him back in 2013, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds a rose between his teeth.
You remember that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. It was your first Valentine's Day together, and he had surprised you with a romantic gesture that had left you speechless.
Seeing the Polaroid now, you can't help but smile at the memory of his playful antics and the joy it had brought you.
As he gazes at the photograph, a fond smile tugs at his lips.
"M’remember this," he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. "That was such a fun day."
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The memory floods back, enveloping you in a cascade of emotions as you revisit that magical Valentine's Day four months into your relationship with Harry. You can still feel the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest as you try to persuade him to play along with your whimsical idea.
"Come on, H," you urge, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you hold out the single red rose. "It'll be hilarious! You'll look so macho with the rose between your teeth."
Harry's expression is a mixture of amusement and reluctance as he eyes the flower skeptically.
"I don't know, babe," he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "It feels a bit silly."
But you're determined to coax him into indulging your playful whim. Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you pout exaggeratedly, knowing full well the effect it has on him.
"Please, H," you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be our little Valentine's Day joke."
Unable to resist your charms, Harry finally relents with a chuckle, a reluctant smile playing on his lips.
"Alright, fine," he concedes, taking the rose from your hand and tentatively placing it between his teeth. "But if anyone sees us, I'm blaming you."
You can't help but giggle at his mock seriousness, feeling a rush of affection for the man who's willing to go along with your whimsical antics just to see you smile.
/ /
Back in the present moment, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers delicately tracing the edges of the photograph. As he pulls it out, you feel a surge of anticipation, eager to revisit another cherished memory captured on Valentine's Day.
This time, the image transports you back to 2015, seated in a cozy restaurant with Harry across the table, his hand clasping yours tenderly.
You remember that evening vividly, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance as you savored each other's company over a romantic dinner. Harry's gaze, filled with love and adoration, never wavered from yours as you shared laughter, conversation, and stolen glances throughout the night.
As you study the Polaroid, the memory comes flooding back, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. It's moments like these, captured in snapshots of time, that remind you of the depth of your connection and the beauty of your love story.
With a soft smile, Harry leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, his touch a silent affirmation of the love that continues to blossom between you.
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As you sit across from Harry in the cozy restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and love, you notice a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.
Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, causing your heart to skip a beat.
Your eyes widen in surprise as Harry's words hang in the air, his hesitant demeanor only adding to the gravity of the moment.
"I have something for you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry with what appears to have a key nestled within. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the significance of his gesture, your heart pounding with anticipation.
But before you can fully process the contents of the box, Harry clears his throat nervously, his gaze locking with yours.
"I... I have something else to ask you," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Would you... would you like to move in with me?"
Tears shimmer in your eyes as you reach for Harry's hand across the table, squeezing it tightly in a silent affirmation of your love and devotion.
"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Harry, I would love to move in with you."
/ /
Harry's laughter fills the room once more as he reminisces about that special evening. With a fond smile, he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with affection.
"That was one of the nicest evenings we've shared together," he muses, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart as you recall the joy and love that had enveloped you both on that unforgettable Valentine's Day.
It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your connection.
As you gaze at Harry, his laughter echoing in the room, you can't help but marvel at the journey you've embarked on together. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, you've remained by each other's side, growing stronger with each passing day.
Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers brushing against the edges of the photograph with a tender reverence. As he pulls it out, you feel a rush of excitement, knowing that this snapshot holds yet another cherished memory from your shared Valentine's Day celebrations.
This time, the image transports you back to 2017, a year filled with love, laughter, and a furry addition to your family.
You remember the joyous moment vividly, the surprise etched on Harry's face as he laid eyes on the adorable puppy you had carefully chosen for him. It was a breed he had always admired, and seeing his eyes light up with delight was a gift in itself.
In the Polaroid, Harry's face is aglow with happiness as he lets the puppy kiss his cheek, his smile radiant and infectious. The bond between them is palpable, a testament to the love and companionship that would come to define their relationship over the years.
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As Harry sat on the couch, oblivious to the surprise in store, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you walked into the room, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you held the squirming puppy in your arms.
"Hey, babe," you greeted Harry with a smile, trying to mask your excitement. "I have something for you."
Harry looked up from his book, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he watched you approach.
"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.
With a dramatic flourish, you revealed the wriggling bundle of fur in your arms, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.
Harry's expression shifted from confusion to sheer delight as he took in the sight of the puppy, its tail wagging furiously as it sniffed the air in excitement.
"No way!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "S’this for me?"
You nodded eagerly, your heart swelling with happiness at his reaction.
"Yes, it's for you," you confirmed, gently placing the puppy in his arms. "I know how much you've always wanted a dog, so I thought it was time we added a furry friend to our family."
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he held the puppy close, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love.
"I can't believe you did this," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Valentine's Day gift ever."
As you watched the scene unfold before you, the room filled with laughter and the sound of happy barks, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. It was a testament to the power of love and the joy of sharing life's precious moments with the ones you hold dear.
/ /
Harry's fingers gently stroke the fur of the large, but still beloved, dog nestled next to him. Pancake, now fully grown but forever a puppy at heart, looks up at Harry with adoring eyes, a silent reminder of the bond they share.
With a nostalgic smile, Harry recalls the early days when Pancake was just a tiny ball of fur, bounding around the house with endless energy and mischief.
"Remember when he was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand?" Harry muses, his voice tinged with fondness.
You nod, your own heart swelling with affection as you watch the pair interact.
"Those were some unforgettable times," you agree, your voice soft with reminiscence. "He's grown so much since then, but he'll always be our little Pancake."
With a sense of anticipation, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his movements deliberate as he carefully selects the next snapshot to relive. As he pulls it out, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation building as you recognize the significance of the photograph.
This time, the image transports you back to a breathtaking sunset in Italy, a moment forever etched in your memory as the day Harry asked you to be his forever.
In the Polaroid, the radiant glow of the Italian sunset provides the perfect backdrop to the centerpiece of the image: your sparkling engagement ring, glimmering in the fading light. Memories flood back as you recall the magic of that evening, the air thick with anticipation as Harry led you to the terrace of your shared villa.
The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink as you stood hand in hand with Harry, the world seemingly frozen in time. With trembling hands and a heart full of love, Harry dropped to one knee, his eyes shining with emotion as he poured his heart out to you in a heartfelt proposal.
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The air is alive with the scent of Mediterranean flowers and the soft murmur of the evening breeze. Harry's hand clasps yours tightly, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity as he leads you to the edge of the terrace, where the sun dips below the horizon in a fiery display of color.
"Close your eyes," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with excitement as he guides you to a spot overlooking the rolling hills and the sparkling sea below. You comply, a smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the surprise Harry has in store.
A moment later, you feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs softly, "Okay, now open them."
As you open your eyes, the breathtaking sight before you takes your breath away. The sky is ablaze with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the sun sets in a magnificent display of natural beauty. Candlelit lanterns twinkle along the terrace, creating a romantic ambiance that sets your heart aflutter.
"It's beautiful," you breathe, turning to Harry with a look of wonder on your face.
Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes your hand in his leading you further onto the terrace until you're bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun.
And then, with a suddenness that catches you off guard, Harry drops to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he pulls out a small velvet box. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize what's happening, your breath catching as Harry's eyes meet yours, filled with love and determination.
"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one," Harry begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."
As he speaks, Harry opens the box to reveal the dazzling engagement ring nestled within, its sparkle reflecting the light of the setting sun.
"Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft but resolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits for your answer.
/ /
Harry's voice breaks through your reverie, his words a tender reminder of the significance of that day.
"I still can't believe you said yes," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the love and wonder he felt in that moment.
You reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the joy and excitement of your engagement.
"It was the easiest 'yes' I've ever said," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and affection.
Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a gentle reverence. As he pulls it out, his breath catches in his throat, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realizes the significance of the snapshot.
In the Polaroid, you and Harry stand side by side, radiant in your wedding attire, surrounded by the lush greenery of the church garden. The joy and love that radiate from the photograph are palpable, a testament to the happiness you both felt in that momentous occasion.
Harry's eyes linger on the image, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalls the whirlwind of emotions that swept over him on your wedding day. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of forever, a day you had both chosen to celebrate your love on Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year.
Little did you know at the time that Harry's best friend, Niall, had snapped the photograph, capturing the tender moment without either of you realizing it.
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"M’can't believe it," Harry murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed into your eyes, his own sparkling with love and adoration. "We're finally husband and wife."
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness wash over you as you took in the sight of your new husband, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.
"I know," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "It still feels like a dream."
As you walked hand in hand through the garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of love and happiness. Each step felt like a dance, a celebration of your newfound union and the beginning of your shared journey as husband and wife.
"I love you," Harry whispered, his words a tender declaration of his devotion as he pulled you closer into his embrace. "I've never been happier than I am in this moment, with you by my side."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into Harry's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.
"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. "More than words can say."
/ /
With a tender smile, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a sense of reverence. As he pulls it out, he holds it close to his chest, his eyes shining with emotion as he gazes at the image. This, he declares, is one of his favorites so far.
In the Polaroid, Harry is fast asleep, his features softened in slumber as he lies peacefully in bed, unaware of the momentous news about to unfold. In the foreground, a pregnancy test rests on the bedside table, its result displayed prominently for the camera to capture.
You remember the moment vividly, the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you prepared to share the life-changing news with Harry. With a trembling hand, you had set up the camera, carefully framing the shot to include both Harry and the pregnancy test, capturing the raw emotion of the moment for posterity.
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You and Harry sat side by side under a blanket of stars, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic ambiance over the scene. With the night sky twinkling above you, you knew it was the perfect moment to share the life-changing news you had been keeping a secret.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you turned to Harry, your heart pounding in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak.
"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.
Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity and affection.
"What is it, love?" he asked, his hand reaching out to gently caress yours.
With a nervous flutter in your stomach, you took a deep breath before blurting out the words you had been rehearsing in your mind.
"I'm pregnant," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.
At first, Harry's expression registered disbelief, his eyes widening in shock as he processed your words.
"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached into your pocket to retrieve the pregnancy test. Holding it out to Harry, you watched as his eyes flickered from the test to your face and back again, the realization slowly sinking in.
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he took the test from you, his hands trembling slightly as he examined the result. And then, as the truth of the moment washed over him, he broke into tears, his emotions overflowing as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
"M’going to be a daddy," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't believe it."
/ /
As Harry studies the photograph, a myriad of emotions flicker across his face, from surprise to joy to overwhelming love.
"I remember this," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion. "I had no idea what was coming."
You reach out to grasp his hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the anticipation and excitement of that unforgettable moment.
"It was one of the happiest moments of my life," you confess, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.
With a tender smile, Harry leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.
"And it was the beginning of the greatest adventure of our lives," he whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.
And just like that your almost two year old made his presence known.
As Sebastian toddles into the room, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement from his playtime adventures in the toy room, a delighted squeal escapes his lips at the sight of his father. With a burst of energy, he throws himself onto Harry's lap, his tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck as he snuggles in close.
Harry chuckles warmly at Sebastian's exuberance, his heart swelling with love as he wraps his arms around his son in a tight embrace.
"Hey there, little buddy," he greets, his voice filled with affection as he ruffles Sebastian's curly hair, the same curls that match his own.
Sebastian giggles gleefully, his eyes sparkling with joy as he gazes up at his father. His attention is quickly drawn to the cross necklace dangling around Harry's neck, the delicate chain catching the light as it sways gently with his movements.
"Dada," Sebastian babbles, reaching out to touch the necklace with chubby fingers, his curiosity piqued by the shiny object.
Harry smiles down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of Sebastian's innocent fascination.
Sebastian's eyes widen with wonder as he continues to examine the necklace, his tiny fingers tracing the outline of the cross with gentle fascination.
"Pretty," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.
Harry nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his son.
"Yes, it is," he agrees, his heart overflowing with love for the precious little boy nestled in his arms.
As Sebastian sits in Harry's lap, giggling and playing with his father's necklace, you feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia wash over you. Your little boy is growing up before your eyes, each day bringing new discoveries and adventures. You can't help but marvel at how quickly time seems to be slipping through your fingers.
Determined to capture this precious moment, you reach for the Polaroid camera resting on the nearby table. With a sense of urgency, you snap a photo of Harry and Sebastian, their smiles bright and their bond palpable. The sound of the camera's shutter clicking fills the room, freezing the moment in time for eternity.
As the photo develops before your eyes, you can't help but feel a swell of gratitude wash over you. This, you realize, is what life is all about—cherishing the fleeting moments of joy and love that make it all worthwhile.
With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you reach for the pen that lays on the coffee table, its sleek design catching the light as you pick it up. Gripping it firmly in your hand, you carefully write a special little message on the underneath of the Polaroid, a message of love and gratitude that you know will warm Harry's heart when he discovers it.
Once the message is complete, you place the Polaroid neatly back in the box, its presence a tangible reminder of the love and memories you've shared together on Valentine's Day. With a sense of satisfaction, you close the lid, knowing that this small gesture will hold a special place in Harry's heart for years to come.
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Turning to Harry, who sits beside you with Sebastian in his lap, you snuggle into his warm embrace, reveling in the comfort and love that surrounds you.
"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion as you press a kiss to his cheek.
Harry's arms tighten around you, pulling you close as he murmurs softly,
"I love you both so much." His words are a tender declaration of his love, a reminder of the bond that binds you together as a family.
With another Polaroid security added to the box, your reloaded just how much you can’t wait to add even more photos as the years progress.
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animehideout · 5 months
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JJK MEN AS TYPES OF LOVE ♡
Gojo Satoru : Ludus
Playful, dynamic yet lustful love.
Playful banter is your love language. Teasing, inside jokes and pranks are a regular occurence.
You go on adventure dates instead of regular boring ones.
Calls you silly names.
Dates you as long as you're amusing and interesting, otherwise he wouldn't.
However, love isn't taken so seriously.
Choso : Storge
Familia love. Very peaceful and slow.
This man is planning to have a long relationship with you, crowned with marriage.
Your relationship is a living testament to the warmth of familial bonds.
Your dates together are sacred and he's always punctual and always on time, never late.
The trust between both of you goes beyond romantic.
Geto Suguru : Eros
Sexual and passionate love.
First sight immediate attraction.
Your love sparks with intensity and desire.
Your relationship is physically-dependent, wanting to satisfy each others' sexual needs.
Worships your body.
Brings his sexual fantasies to life with you.
Very romantic and passionate.
Nanami Kento : Agape
Selfless and unconditional love.
He shows his love through acts of service.
Cooks you your favorite meals, runs you a bath after a tiring day.
Before leaving for work he leaves you small gifts and notes everywhere for you to find them.
Very committed, loyal, mature and responsible.
Puts you first, even before him.
Provides for you financially and emotionally; all the care and support.
Sukuna Ryomen : Mania
Obsessive love.
Loves you intensely to the point that he becomes obsessive and toxic towards you.
Gets extremely jealous over the smallest thing.
For him you only belong to him and no one else is allowed to breathe your direction.
His love towards you is complex. It's like getting stuck in spider web.
Your relationship is an emotional rollercoaster, with desire, love, jealousy, possessiveness and control.
Sukuna breaks you to own you, he owns your heart, he owns your body , he owns even your soul.
Toji Fushiguro : Pragma
Toji believes in long- term lasting relationship / marriage.
Wants to build a family with you and raise kids together.
Committed and loyal.
His attraction towards you is based on your qualities and characteristics.
He wants compatibility with you, where both of your needs and desires are satisfied.
Very logical, realistic and practical.
Cares about your family background.
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Just a Brotherhood!Konig Thot👀. Knight!Konig loves in my head rent free🥰
Imagine with me- Knight!Konig who has a cute little scribe who's so eager to please her Lord Knight that she'd do just about anything he asked of her-even if that meant walking into a cave full of radiation, she'd do it for him! Tiny Scribe!reader who doesn't mind lugging around that massive backpack of supplies, honest My Lord it's nothing!
I can totally imagine Knight! Konig being so full of himself, especially after Scribe!reader proves their undying loyalty? Oh yeah, big ego boost for this giant anxious man 😊😏. Eventually I imagine a romance that is bordering obsession on both their parts😅😂.
In the game, Paladins of the Brotherhood usually got a whole team of different scribes and helpers since Wsteland is not a joke. Imagine being one of many - a bit of a tech nerd, always eager to get yet another toster for the glory of the brotherhood. Scribing your sully techs on the silly notepad you snatched from an abandoned building. Konig cals you a radracoon, stealing everything that comes your way. Konig says it's a given, since you're from the Wastelands - Brotherhood picked you up like a lost puppy on the way from a bloody mission. Konig wasn't a paladin yet, only a handful of years older than you - but you're with him now. Young and naive, eager to please. Konig wonders what you would do if he asked you to suck his cock. Would probably get on your knees like a good girl. Maybe you'd oil his armor too. Maybe you'd like to fuck him while he is still halfway in the armor. A testament to his strength. Brotherhood is all about breeding numbers from the top, so you know Konig will have to have children some day. He has no idea what courting is - you don't know either - so he just brings you extra lunch. Some pieces of less radiated meals. Smashes a cake stand with his power fist and gets you a desert with only moderate amount of mold. Gets hard at the sight of your shining bright eyes and has to curse under his breath - armor wasn't built for the wearers to have huge boners because their servants are too fucking adorable.
Konig knows he deserves someone stronger - he has other people, actually, tending to his needs and watching his back. Team is a small task force, with a few knights always stationed nearby - Brotherhood doesn't want to love its glorified paladin toy. You're here for the stress relief, like a shining puppy of justice and poor life decisions. You idolize Konig - not the Brotherhood. It's a mistake, a huge one. A fucking liability. Konig smiles and squeezes your cheeks. Plays with your hair. Metal hand tangling in the dirty strands. You are taking care of his supplies, of his food, of cleaning his armor. When he comes to you at night, allowing you to take the first shift, you aren't even surprised when he points at his cock. Aching and ready to burst - your hands aren't soft when they slip around it, trying to understand how to make them feel better, but Konig appreciates the pain. Gets a hand in your hair, still giant even out of armor. Tells you to be rougher, not to treat him like a little bitch. You obey, as tender as you are. Maybe fascinated a little. Brotherhood doesn't do marriages, but Konig already knows who he will choose to breed with.
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rhaenyslay · 1 month
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Blushes and Daisies
Prologue: 'A Rose Between Thorns'
Aemond Targaryen x OC!Niece!Reader
Summary: Aemond and Aelora chatter idly in the comfort of their hideaway - the hidden beauty of the gardens of the Red Keep among the wildflowers and cherry trees.
Warnings: Sickly sweet childhood sweetheart fluff, I’m talking blushes and giggles - twirling my hair and kicking my feet.
Word Count: 945 (normal chapters will be much longer don’t worry)
A/N: Hi lovelies! If you have any ideas/notes feel free to comment! There are a few changes to canon: The ages are adjusted slightly for the children (Aelora = 110 AC, Aemond = 110 AC, Jacaerys = 113 AC, Lucerys = 115 AC, Aegon = 106 AC, Helaena = 109 AC), and the timelines of Rhaenyra’s relationships are slightly altered too.
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༻❁༺ 117 AC, THE GARDENS OF THE RED KEEP
“Aemond?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be… normal? You know - not a prince or princess, not a Targaryen, not… anything.”
“Not really.” The young prince muses. He turns his head to the side from where he lay on the grass to look at his young niece, “Do you?”
The early morning breeze gently brushes over their cheeks as the two lay among the wildflowers deep within the gardens of the Red Keep, hidden away. The young Velaryon princess sighs softly, her face remains pointing to the sky - blue and clear, yet there’s a hint of grey that threatens to taint its hues.
“Sometimes.” Aelora admits almost silently, the only thing carrying the sound to Aemond’s ears being the warm breeze. “I think about going to Flea Bottom - maybe even Lys or Myr - about living among the people. No silly titles, no duties, no stupid corsets.”
Aemond laughs softly, to which she smiles.
“I think normal women still wear corsets.” He comments, “Just maybe not as tight.”
“Maybe.”
There’s a peaceful quiet that falls between them, a blanket of calm and serene isolation. Here, in their little hideaway, they have their own reprives: the young prince is free from teasing, from expectations, and from disappointment; and the young princess is free from whispers, from duties, from the conflicts of family and court. They share a silent understanding, a silent agreement, to speak only of pleasant things, to ponder only the oddest of dreams and queries, and to never share a word of it. The carvings in the trees, orange peels discarded, plucked flowers - the only testaments to human life this deep in the gardens.
“Mother and Father are already thinking about suitors.” She says after a minute or two of silence.
“How lovely.” Aemond replies, though his teasing tone conveys their shared distaste.
She lets out a breath of a laugh, though the matter is not amusing to either of them, “I just hope he won't be cruel.”
Once more, Aemond turns his head to look at her, the blades of grass tickling his freckled cheek, “If he is, I’ll see to him myself.”
“Oh, truly? I’m sure any grown lord will be scared of the a little prince like you.” She giggles, her warm brown eyes glistening in the beam of sunlight that floods through the trees above.
Aemond, who was being deadly serious, blushes a little, facing the sky once again, “They will be once I’ve trained more, once I’ve grown.”
Upon realising his seriousness, the princess maintains her smile, but it grows more appreciative than amused, “Well, I’m sure you will be the bestest swordsman in the world, and the bestest prince.” She smiles, brushing some of her hair from her face.
His blush deepens and he smiles, “Thank you.”
The silence returns.
“How is your training going?” Asks Aelora, “Ser Criston is always nice about you.”
“Well - I think so, at least.” Aemond replies, pulling at the grass absentmindedly, “Aegon is still mean though, and your brothers.”
She sighs softly, understandingly, “I can speak with them if you like - my brothers? But not Aegon…” she giggles airily.
Aemond smiles, though it’s sad, “Yeah, I’m not sure he’d be too easy to talk to about it.”
Noting his sad tone, Aelora shuffles a little closer in an attempt at comfort, the two of them laid side by side, eyes looking to the sky.
“I don’t know why my brothers are so mean.” She muses, “I promise they aren’t like that, they’re just… stupid sometimes.”
Aemond sighs, “I know… It’s Aegon mostly. But it’s fine, I’m manag-”
“No,” She cuts him off softly but firmly, turning to look at him, “it’s not fine; it’s not fair, Aem.”
“It’s okay,” He takes a breath, “we all have to go through something I suppose.”
Aelora thinks. She sighs and nods faintly, “I suppose.” She muses in agreement, “Doesn’t make it fair.”
Another silence. A bird sings from a tree above before taking flight, joining another mid ascension, flying off towards one of the many turrets together.
“Is your mother still being odd?” He asks, looking up and between the leaves of the trees and cherry blossoms above them - that hide them away.
“Yes… though I’m still not sure why.” Aelora frowns softly as she speaks, “One minute she’ll be fine, and then the next... she acts like I'm not even there.” She tries to explain for the umpteenth time, the dull ache in her chest forming as she ponders over her mother’s continued behaviour towards her. “It hurts.” She admits, a tinge of pain in her tone.
Noticing this, Aemond offers her a small, sympathetic smile, “I’m sure it’s nothing. She has no reason to have anything against you. You’re wonderful.”
Aelora blushes, “Thank you, Aem.”
Aemond pulls at the grass slightly, accidentally plucking a daisy. He looks at it for a moment. He turns and, in a moment of courage, gently tucks it behind her ear, within her soft brown curls. She finally turns to look at him, smiling.
“Here,” she, too, plucks a daisy, mimicking his actions and tucking one behind his own ear and within his own white curls, “now we match.”
With both having daisies in their hair, deep pink blushes, and twinkling eyes, they did indeed match - their souls mirrors of one and other as they always had been, and always would be, as they inwardly hoped, unaware of the turmoil to unfold, the blood to be wasted, lives to be changed. For now, all they had were their daisies, blushes, and whispered words. ༻❁༺
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Can you do Bear hybrid ghost x Bunny hybrid reader headcanons? I feel like that would be cute
Since it's headcanons, this is going to be bullet-point style. Let's do this!
You have scary dog privileges, 100%. Other hybrids thinks you're an easy target, seeing how your ears and puffy tail twitch to showcase every single emotion you are, but when they get near you... Ghost shows up behind you, staring them down, and no one wants to get between a bear hybrid and his mate.
He sometimes forgets you're vegetarian, due to your bunny hybrid nature, and he'll bring you some fish that he hunted especially for you. Only to then realize you don't eat fish. It's still cute though, so you sit with him while he eats two fish, one that he had caught for himself and the one he had caught for you.
Ghost loves playing with your bunny ears, he's so gentle with them. He cup them gently with one paw as he runs his other paw over your bunny ears gently.
When you're both in a silly mood, you two end up in a giggling fit over both of you wiggling your short, nubby tails as if trying to compete with who can wiggle their tail the fastest. It's a testament to how much he lets his guard down around you.
He marks the trees bordering your house, signaling to other bears or bear hybrids that he lives there.
While you are a bunny hybrid, you're not completely defenseless. You're said to be one of the more violent bunny hybrids, your fight instinct kicking in more than your flight instinct. Ghost stepped in before you would've rabbit-kicked a tiger hybrid once.
Winter is a bitch for you. Ghost hibernates and you, you have to continue to find your food in the snow because bunnies don't hibernate. Don't tell him this, because he would tease you if he knew, but you burrow yourself beneath him during the nights because he's just so much more warmer than you are.
Ghost hates the implication of him cheating on you just because male bear hybrids typically don't stay with a mate long. He'd die before leaving you. (Though if you are poly, he wouldn't mind. He understands that both bear and bunny hybrids aren't species that mate for life. He just wouldn't cheat, aka not tell you about a partner if that's your dynamic.)
Both of your hybrid species like to rub faces together as a way to show affection, so you two are often seen rubbing cheeks together. He reaches wherever he can on you and rubs his head against that body part and you do it too.
Ghost once went toe to toe with another bear hybrid because they looked at you. He charged right at them, not wasting a single second. He was fighting them like his place as your mate wasn't secure (it was and is). He won, by a long shot.
Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)
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dmitriene · 5 months
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𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗟𝗘𝗢𝗡 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨.
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❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘴𝘶𝘣 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘛𝘞: 𝘗𝘜𝘙𝘌 𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘕, 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘣 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘦
 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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the light canvas of the sheets blurs before the veil before your eyes as leon fucks you with relentless eagerness, your swollen cunt sticky with his potent cum, and his shaft continues to fill you again and again, stretching your tightness with each powerful thrust, making your body shudder and fidget forward like a rag doll.
your ass is raised high in the air, the flesh is a little scarlet from the slaps of his muscular thighs, your face is pressed to the pillow, the moans of ecstasy are muffled by the fabric that becomes wet from the amount of saliva released from your mouth.
leon's dominance over you comes to the fore as he tugs on the leash attached to the collar around your neck, lifting your face up and forcing you to meet his gaze as he bends over your body, slowing his thrusts slightly to comfortably touch your lips, partly open in a silent moan, feeling their moisture from saliva, capturing you in a kiss that you can barely respond to, stupidly closing and opening your lips when he exhales raggedly into them in a scorching growling whisper — «such a good girl, my fucking adorable puppy, looking so sexy like this»
he openly revels in the sounds of your pleasure, the pure ecstasy escaping your lips in a string of mewls and moans, and it fuels him, pushing him even further into the depths of his rut, into the depths of you where the thick tip of his cock wiggles against your g-spot, causing your walls to clench, allowing you to feel every bulging vein along his length.
a room, filled with your moans, rhythmic sounds of his powerful thrusts mixing with the wet squelches that came from your loose wet hole, making a white sticky ring at his tip, firmly etched into the memory as he pulls and pulls, causing your neck to arch and your head to fall back, the collar scratches against your adam's apple, but he is careful, watching your reaction and how your body begins to tremble, your legs, with the last echoes of strength, fidget on the sheets when you squeeze his cock within the boundaries of your wetness more and more greedily.
short nails dig into the plush skin with a grip that squeezes your ass, groping, ripping a cry of mixed pleasure and pain from your lips.
with the other hand he wraps the leash around his knuckles, pulling it lightly but firmly, gently cutting the breath as if you were a small bird, he bends down slightly, rubs against the already sensitive, reddened skin to exhale into his ear, biting and pulling the lobe, teasing the tender flesh — «silly mutt, thought hiding this interesting thing will stop me?»
you shake your head intuitively, although it feels incredibly heavy as leon continues to pump into you, enjoying the extreme tightness surrounding his cock, a testament to your desire and arousal, and despite the sensitivity and quantity of your orgasm you don't let go of him, and he feels how close you are to edge, balancing on the brink of orgasm.
the sounds of your moans, random cries of pleasure and pain and the wet sounds of his merciless thrusts become gentle chirps in his ears, time seems to blur, just like your vision through salty warm tears, as the intensity of your connection increases, pushing you both to the brink of release.
the thrusts intensify as he plunge harder and more determined, he gives a light slap to your ass, making it wobble from the blow, the sensitivity of your already reddened flesh causes sobs of pleasure and pain from your trembling lips, your eyes roll beyond their limits and close with fluttering eyelashes.
when he lets go of the leash, your face falls into the pillow, muffling your screams of ecstasy, your body arches like one of an obedient animal, yearning for release, and your pussy spasms around his cock, tightening and convulsing in sync with your powerful orgasm.
the power of your climax is enormous, making you soak him down to his balls with your warm, gushing fluids, the slick liquid running down your trembling thighs, leaving your skin sticky and the sheets covered in dark drops as he keeps pounding in you from behind.
a sharp growl breaks against the walls and the familiar grip of rough finger pads sharply and tightly squeezes your waist, pressing you into the sheets with ease, with fear of harm, but enough to leave marks behind him, his movements become more chaotic and short, and the climax approaches with an undeniable intensity that makes him less precise, more sloppy.
with one last powerful thrust, he hits your cervix and the sensation runs through your body like electricity, his hips stop, shudder, releasing the weight of his hanging balls, filling you with his potent and warm sperm, pulsating streams of his seed pouring into you, marking you with his essence.
as he remains deep inside you, his hips still and his body trembling, his tip continues to drip with cum, every drop pouring into you as he slowly slips out, leaving the tip like a plug, his shaft sticky and wet from your slick, his cum slowly drips out of your hole as you lie completely limp, weakened legs slowly falling onto the sheets and his tip slips out with a loud pop, sliding along the curve of your ass before you finally sink into the softness of the bed, forming a puddle of mixed fluids underneath, and an inaudible whine escapes your lips.
leon's chest heaves as he takes the time to comb his dark locks back, sweat flows uncomfortably from the back of his head along his neck, his blue eyes soften as his hand traces your side with the utmost tenderness, going down the swell of your ass and running his fingers over your swollen pussy, and you twitch, emitting a half whimper, half a sob, from which he immediately coos, pulling back his hand — «shh, i'm sorry, darling, wouldn't touch you anymore, let's instead get you up and take a bath, yeah?»
he shifts his position carefully, based on the way the mattress jerks, before both arms wrap around your waist and lift you up as your weight keeps pulling you down, you barely keep your eyes open, trying to blink away the wetness of your tears as his fingers fidget against the back of your head, finding the latch and unfastening the collar, the attribute falls onto the sheets with a dull thud when he takes it off you with his second hand and throws it back on the bed, exposing pale marks on your fragile neck and kissing each side a couple of times, caring, apologizing — «that's it, no more collars, mhm? now let's go» ‹𝟹
you find yourself pressed against a warm and broad muscular chest in a matter of seconds and instantly melt, soft cheek pressed against his hardness in perfect balance as he wraps and presses you like a jewel and the most fragile of porcelain creatures, nuzzling the top of your head as you fleetingly notice his look of full adoration, and you smile tiredly, after which you completely switch off, falling asleep and leaving yourself in his grip with complete trust and confidence, registering only a quiet, elusive whisper — «sleep tight, my sweet, sweet girl»
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lesbiangiratina · 4 months
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Id love to know the exact point in ggx’s development they decided to cut this frame from testament’s recovery animation and make them Walk like this instead. Funny gear
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