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#I didn't think I would ever leave. I like to pretend
lxnarphase · 1 day
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions
“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”
✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.
“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.
“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.
“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."
✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?
“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”
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abouttofillhisshoes · 24 hours
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Blurbs you say?? I am thinking thoughts… about matty’s dick in my mouth while he smokes a cigarette <3
This #unedited and sort of shit, but i promised myself to not to obsess over it too much. also i cant not post without a fancy title and banner bc im allergic soz xx
Go down - Matty Healy
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A/N: im shit at blurbs, minors do not interact
wc: 1.5k
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The door shuts with a loud bang, Mattys footsteps echoing through the foyer. Ridding himself of his jacket, chucking it onto the couch, he sits down next to it, an exasperated groan leaving his lips. His voice was sore, raspy from tonight's gig. Sold out, ten thousand people, all screaming the house down as Matty sang his heart out. Fans went wild as he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, leaving all but one buttoned unfastened.
It still was, the fabric now wrinkled and slightly damp from the sweat, clinging to his body. It took everything in you to not jump onto him right at that moment, take him then and there. No, he was tired, eyes shutting as he rolled his head back, resting it onto the edge of the sofa. His voice was low as he spoke. 
“Darling?” you hum in acknowledgement, peeking your head around the corner, still trying to tow your shoes off. He waits for you to actually enter the room, a rough hand running through his gelled hair, tucking some of it behind his ear. 
“Could you pour me some wine?” Despite having been drinking the entire set, Matty always liked a healthy glass of wine when he got home, exhausted and missing your presence. Usually, you would take the time to talk about the show, what the stagehands had fucked up this time et cetera, et cetera. This time, however, you had other things on your mind, and, based on the way his eyes dragged up and down your body as you walked by, he did as well. 
You grab two glasses from the marble cupboard, setting them onto the counter. Pouring both of you a generous amount, you check yourself in the reflection of the microwave. Your hair was a bit messy, and your mascara was slightly smudged from dancing, but it didn't bother you.
“Thank you, love.” a grateful look spreads onto his face as he takes a glass from you, smiling. You place a chaste kiss on his lips, wiping a bit of dirt off his face with your free hand. Before you could even move to sit down, his hand wraps around your lower back, pulling you into an awkward kneeling position between his legs, the edge of the sofa digging into your knees. He kisses you like this, setting both your glasses onto a small table, freeing up both hands.
You shift, using his shoulders for leverage, lowering your body onto the floor in front of him. 
“What are you up to, mh?” he asks, his filthy smirk making your head spin. 
“Could ask you the same thing, undressing in front of an audience.” you mention his little display, thrusting up into air as he danced around, the screams of the crowd only spurring him on. He pretends to look offended, shaking his head in protest.
“It's art.” 
“It's insanely hot, is what it is.” you grin, hands settling right onto his belt. 
His breath hitches, breathing pattern slightly irregular as you look up at him through your eyelashes, blinking innocently. 
A quiet “Oh, fuck me.” leaves his lips, and he coughs, trying to remain composed. That proves more difficult than he thought, especially with you looking at him like that.
“Can I?” you ask, voice dripping like honey. The look on his face when you let things drag on like this was delicious, eyes drooping shut as he groaned your name. 
“Shoot me if i ever say no to that question, fucking hell.” That's all you need, your hands making quick work of the black leather belt in front of you, the sound of metal against metal so unbelievably erotic. 
Above you, you hear Matty shuffle, hands digging into the pockets of his suit jacket. Producing a pack of cigarettes, he sticks one between his lips, light not far behind. Something stirs in you when he lights it, the soft glow of the flame making him look even more attractive than he already was.  
He’s hard against the palm of your hand as you work the buttons of his trousers, pulling them down along with his black boxer-briefs. The cool air makes him groan, a cloud of smoke leaving his parted lips. The smell doesn't take long to fill your senses, so distinctly Matty. 
Not in the mood for a tease, his hand finds the thick locks of your hair, threading his fingers through it. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he watches you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth, moaning when the taste of him hit your tongue. 
He gathers your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, keeping it out of your face as you take him in, hollowing out your cheeks in that way that makes him lose his mind. 
His hand pushes your head down lightly, silently asking for permission. You let him, his cock brushing against the back of your throat, making your gag reflex kick in. Using a trick your friend had taught you back in highschool, you press your thumb between the rest of your fingers, trying to suppress it. 
Matty is shameless above you, moaning and groaning whenever you bobbed your head, incredibly pent up and desperate. 
Trying again, you let him guide himself deeper into your mouth, his sounds of encouragement spurring you on. 
“So fucking good, just- yeahh, thats it, fuck” his words go straight to your core, and you clench your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the aching pressure between your legs. 
Bobbing your head, you breathe through your nose, taking him as deep as you can without gagging, feeling him twitch in your mouth. His tip leaks salty precum onto your tongue, the smells of cigarettes the only thing you could concentrate on. You look up, your eyes meeting his right as he takes a drag, pushing your head down even further. Again, you sputter, but you don't get off.
“God, you’re so gorgeous, choking on my cock like this.” he groans, throwing his head back in pure ecstasy.
“Made for me, weren't you? Perfect mouth, shit.” his rambling lets you know he’s close, hips bucking up into your mouth, your tongue running over the vein on the underside of his cock, pulsing with need. 
Taking one last drag, he lets the finished cigarette fall onto the concrete floor behind the sofa, both hands now on your head, fucking his cock into your warm mouth. 
You moan around him, the vibrations sending curses falling from his lips, the sounds of his movements echoing through the living room. 
“I’m not gonna last, fucking- oh god.” he warns you, quickly pulling off him. Shaking your head, you raise your eyebrows at him and a small smile spreads onto your face. 
“When has that ever been an issue?” he laughs, brushing your hair out of your face sweetly. You rub your cheeks against his thigh, eyes set on his weeping erection, desperate for release. 
“Now, let me take care of you, okay?” he nods slowly, both his arms spread out on either side of him, letting you have full control. You dive back in, switching from kitten licking the tip to deepthroating him as far as you can go, his gasps of pleasure like music to your ears.
“Jesus, you‘re a fucking wet dream.” he moans, hips bucking uncontrollably as he spills onto your mouth, hot ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. His legs shake as you hold your head there, taking everything he gives you, the salty taste of him like heaven.
You stick out your tongue proudly, showing it completely clean. His hands grab your shoulders as fast as they can move, pulling you up and onto his lap. He kisses you, hard, tongue forcing its way into your mouth before you could even react. Groaning at the taste of himself on your tongue, his fingers wipe at your cheeks, rubbing off your mascara, which had started to stream down your face. 
“You're a temptress, you are.” he grins, kissing you again, softer this time. Rolling your eyes, you use your nails to scratch the back of his head, knowing how much he loved the sensation.  
“You didn't even try to resist.” you spit back, giggling at the speed at which he’d pulled you onto him, not even bothering to take his shoes off before plopping onto the sofa. 
“I didn't, did I?” 
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ghost-bxrd · 2 days
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You know, just read that prompt about Timmy quietly accepting his own death at Jason's command...
I kinda want the opposite.
I want a furious, yelling, fighting Tim, with a major broken pedestal as far as Jason is concerned.
Okay, he can get why Jason blames him, for taking the Robin suit. And maybe Bruce deserves a bit of it too.
But what he absolutely can't and won't forgive is Jason going after Dick. Especially since Dick forgives it so readily, since Dick is the one pleading for forgiveness.
Tim was there. He saw what Jason's death did to all of them. And he can't believe Jason would ever doubt Dick, that Jason would turn up to hurt him worse.
Tim being like... "You know, all the time I was trying to keep them from killing themselves, I kept telling myself, telling them, that you wouldn't want them to hurt like that. But you wanted it, didn't you? Want it. You never wanted them to heal. You never wanted them to move on. Maybe, if you had come back then, come back when B was trying to get himself killed, when Dick was catatonic curled up on your grave and trying to starve himself to death, maybe you'd have been happy at last? Or would you have decided that isn't enough either? Not enough punishment for not making you his absolute top priority for once, just once, in his life?"
And Tim going "I hate you. But I'll pretend to love you, because everyone knows Dick will choose you anytime. And I daren't leave him at your mercy."
I want post-Red Hood Jason working to earn Tim's forgiveness and trust again.
Oh yes, that’s also an interesting take! And one that (I think) comes closer to how he would react in canon. Tim is a spitfire and we love him for it 💚
And while I definitely want to explore this version of him eventually, I think it wouldn’t tie into how the Owl Song verse is set up.
Although if Owl Song does get its continuation, I think there would be some struggling on Tim’s part. Not for himself (never for himself) but for Dick and Bruce. A struggle to make Jason understand that nobody ever wanted to replace him.
In this universe, Tim wouldn’t be able to scrounge up the anger that would result in him hating Jason. Jason did too much for him to do that. He brought Tim into the family fold. Without Jason, Dick would have never accepted him. Jason, though it wasn’t his intention and he genuinely loved Tim, built the stepping stone that resulted in Tim becoming Robin.
Because any other kid trying to be Robin after Jason? Dick wouldn’t have stopped his mad pursuit for anything. Tim having “hatchling” status (ie family) is literally what saved him.
If you look deeper than surface level, the Owl Song verse is pretty twisted in its own way. And Dick could very quickly become a real monster if nobody keeps him grounded at least somewhat. With Jason gone and Bruce being someone Dick now borderline despises— yeah, it’s very lucky that Jason met Tim in school and went “must protect” and had Dick pick up on that. 🦉
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aziraphales-library · 24 hours
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Hello! Ever since finishing season 2 of GO I have not been able to recover from THAT scene…any fics where the kiss scene is rewritten? Thank you!!!
Hi! Here are some fix-its for the kiss scene...
Do It Again by NudgeYourHeart (G)
A hand pressed into Crowley’s back before be could stop himself, pressing deeper into the kiss, wishing and hoping and begging this wouldn’t end, this couldn’t end- And Crowley pulled away. A fleeting touch. One Aziraphale already missed with such deepness that he felt words creeping up his throat, words he didn’t think he should say but knew he had to. Maybe he did have a choice. “Do it again.” — In which Aziraphale says what he wanted to say
please, let this last forever by actualchangeling (G)
Crowley should most definitely leave. But. There's always a but with him, with them, and he wouldn't have it any other way, no matter how badly it hurts. For six thousand years, Crowley has admitted defeat time after time, facing desperation and disappointment alike, and even if it ends like this, he would do it all over again. - (or: Crowley turns around and doesn't walk away after their kiss)
And I Know I've Kissed You Before, But I didn't Do It RIght (Can I Try Again?) by sat_rn (T)
“We've known each other a long time. We've been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a group. Group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. And I…” He grunted, fighting against his own resistance. “I would like… I would love to spend the rest of my existence with you.” --- Season 2 Finale Fix-It because it made me so distressed I cannot stop thinking about it i am SICK over these gaybos.
A Version Where He Doesn't Go Back to Heaven by Terraific (G)
“Crowley…I…” The words still weren’t coming, and a sob poured forth. “I…I can’t…” ‘Can’t what…can’t WHAT?’ Crowley thought, squeezing him closer, fisting at his coat.
It has always been US by MetalMiez (G)
What if Crowley stopped time during the Confession Scene in the final fifteen, to say what he really wanted to say?
Sober Thoughts by Pink_October_Bones (G)
Aziraphale and Crowley are complete when they're together. Everything's right, and fine, and it doesn't have to be anything else for it to be perfect. Now that they can express that in more ways than just friendly affections, they discuss the reasons they fell in love with one another. And why they'll keep on falling, for the rest of their eternities. OR “When did’jou first fall in love with me?” Crowley asked.
- Mod D
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mcflymemes · 2 days
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PROMPTS FROM THE SONGS ON TIME LIFE'S ULTIMATE LOVE SONGS COLLECTION - YES, THAT COMMERCIAL *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary. "cauuuseee i'm your laaaaady (imagine owning the world's greatest love songs)... and you are my maaann..."
your voice is warm and tender.
i'm your lady, and you are my man.
whenever you reach for me, i'll do all that i can.
i am always by your side.
sometimes i am frightened.
i'm ready to learn.
i could hardly believe it when i heard the news today.
i had to come and get it straight from you.
they said you were leaving.
from the look upon your face, i see it's true.
tell me how am i supposed to live without you?
how am i supposed to carry on?
i didn't come here to break down.
a dream of mine is coming to an end.
how can i blame you?
it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star.
if love can see us through, then we'll be together.
your love is all i'll ever need.
i look in your eyes and there i see what happiness really means.
the love that we share makes life so sweet.
here and now, i promise to love faithfully.
nothing can take your love away.
i believe in love.
now i know i've succeeded.
i'll be eternally grateful.
come back again.
i want you to stay next time.
don't wake me up too soon.
unforgettable. that's what you are.
have i told you lately that i love you?
have i told you there's no one else above you?
you fill my heart with gladness.
somehow, you make it better.
every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you.
i'll always love you for the rest of my days.
you gave me hope when i needed someone near.
you have made my life complete.
tell me, who could ask for more?
when i kiss your lips, i start to shiver.
when i'm in your arms, nothing seems to matter.
i don't care how you get here. just get here if you can.
if i had my way, then surely you would be closer.
i need you closer.
still, i can't figure out what went wrong.
i'd still do anything for you.
i can pretend each time i see you that i don't care and i don't need you.
i've learned so much from you.
if you fall, i will catch you.
you said "go slow."
you know our love was meant to be.
i want you here with me from tonight until the end of time.
you're always on my mind.
you're the meaning in my life.
no one needs you more than i need you.
i want to see you clearly.
these dreams go on when i close my eyes.
i see the questions in your eyes.
i'll never break your heart.
i'll love you with every beat of my heart.
wherever you go, whatever you do, i will be right here waiting for you.
i'm stuck on you.
i guess it's time for me to come on home.
so hard to see that a woman like you could wait around for a man like me.
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disasterbuck · 2 days
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WIP W Tuesday ? (I don't need an excuse to post, do I?)
sorry but I fell in love tonight
Sitting on Eddie's couch with his head on his best friend's shoulder, Buck was so comfortable he never wanted to move ever again. He'd come over to hang out for dinner and that quickly turned into the whole evening. Once Christopher had gone to bed, Buck and Eddie put on a show that was a bit too mature for Chris to watch and settled in together cozily.
As the second episode they'd watched ended, Eddie reached out to click back so it wouldn't auto play the next one. Buck swallowed a sigh; he wasn't ready to leave yet.
"Are you asleep?" Eddie whispered, and Buck realised that Eddie couldn't see his face from this angle.
Should he pretend to be asleep? What would Eddie do if he did? Would he stay there, letting Buck lean on him all night, or would he gently move him off and get a blanket? More likely, Eddie would shake him awake and tell him it was time to go home.
"Yeah," Buck said softly. "I'm awake."
Eddie snorted. "Are you sure? Cause that wasn't my question."
"What? Oh." Buck picked his head up from Eddie's shoulder and rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry. Guess I was drifting off a bit there."
"It's okay," Eddie said softly. "I guess you probably wanna head home now, huh?"
"Sure, if you want me to," Buck said, stretching his arms above his head.
"What if I don't want you to?"
Buck lowered his arms slowly and then turned to look at his friend. Had he heard him correctly? Eddie was looking at him cautiously, expectantly.
"I can stay if you want," Buck said.
"Sure," Eddie agreed with a nod. "Probably best not to go driving when you're this tired, anyway."
"Right." Buck looked away. Of course Eddie was just wanting to keep him safe. "Good thinking."
A hand touched his arm and Buck looked down in surprise, then up at Eddie. The other man was looking at him with an expression Buck didn't think he'd ever seen before. There was something open and vulnerable about it. It felt… significant.
Eddie swallowed before he spoke. "I'm in love with you."
Buck felt the floor slip out from underneath him. His heart lurched in his chest and he felt dizzy.
"Sorry," Eddie added.
"What?" Buck blurted.
"I'm sorry," Eddie repeated, pulling his hand back. "I just… I don't know. I felt like I had to say it. Like you deserved to know."
Buck felt like his body was on fire. He wanted to throw himself onto Eddie, but he didn't want to terrify him. And Eddie already looked pretty terrified.
"Why are you sorry?" Buck asked, because he felt that that was a pretty important point to clarify.
"Because… This could make things awkward," Eddie mumbled.
Now it was Buck's turn to snort. Eddie looked up at him sharply, scowling, and Buck knew he felt like he was being laughed at so he quickly held his hands up.
"Sorry, no," he said. "Just… I'm in love with you too."
-
+ tagging people for the first time 🥰
😘 @dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @i-am-married-to-my-fandom-blog @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle @awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995 @brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans
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aurumacadicus · 2 days
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@ifdragonscouldtalk fuckin deleted the post thinking I had saved the screenshots smh. Anyway 69 😎
--
"Spock, I need a favor," Leonard said.
Spock blinked slowly, the words taking a moment to really register. Of all the people he ever expected to ask for a favor, Leonard would have been on the bottom of the list. In fact, he'd be on a whole separate list, titled 'will die rather than ask for help.' But then, Jim might be the one who needed help, and they needed a cooler head to prevail.
Or someone with a stronger punch. But he hoped it was the former.
Spock finally turned from where he'd been examining a particularly interesting carved statue and blinked again, very hard, when he saw the flower crown on Leonard's head. It was made of what looked like Terran hedera, small pink hyacinthus, and blue myosotis. It was different from all the other flower crowns he'd seen so far, woven only with plumeria.
"So unfair that you don't have to participate in this stupid festival," Leonard grumbled, scowling up at him.
"If the Captain had listened to me, none of you would have to participate in the Florum's customs," Spock explained, for what felt like the umpteenth time. He turned his gaze on the festivities, watching as one of the green-skinned Florum plucked a flower growing from their breast and placed it in the crown of another. "As it stands, Vulcans are offensive to the Florum peoples, especially in their nuptiae rites. Flowers, as you know, are not abundant in the hot, dusty climate of Vulcan, and--"
"Listen," Leonard cut in impatiently. "Just--pretend to be my date, okay?"
Spock stared at him for a moment. Then, quite inelegantly, he said, "I'm quite certain I misheard you, Doctor."
"You didn't, the Florum are trying to get in my pants, and I have never been more uncomfortable in my life," Leonard hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the milling of peoples on the marble courting floor. "I haven't been with anyone since--Look, I just. I don't like this. I'm not Jim. I'm not--"
He really did look deeply uncomfortable, Spock realized as he watched Leonard shift nervously on his feet, trying to keep his back to any of the Florum's wandering eyes. He'd only come off the ship in an effort to learn more about the Florum's medical procedures. Apparently, the clean, clinical smell of the medical crew was like catnip to a cat. It made sense to Spock, what with Terran medicine starting in the use of plants to treat ailments.
But that didn't matter if Leonard was uncomfortable, he reminded himself. And while the Florum were known to engage in non-monogamous behavior, they were aware that more territorial species existed.
"...I know we can't hold hands," Leonard added haltingly. "I don't... know how else to show..."
Spock nodded. Of course he wouldn't know how else to show casual affection without it being too much. He and Jim were always all over each other. Vulcans were more reserved, though, and Spock even more so. Still, he thought, narrowing his eyes at an approaching Florum. He was Chief Science Officer. It would be unconscionable to leave Leonard to suffer while he was uncomfortable.
"Leonard," Spock said firmly, laying his arm over Leonard's shoulders and pivoting on one foot to turn him and lead him further away from the nuptiae floor. "I saw a particular sculpture of the Florum's deity of medicine that I think you'll find interesting. Come along."
"Oh," Leonard squeaked, and Spock couldn't tell if he sounded confused or embarrassed. That was fine, though. The Florum did not feel either of those emotions and wouldn't understand it even if they sensed it. "Okay."
Another Florum approached them. Spock paused only long enough to snarl at it wordlessly, and Leonard let out a noise he'd never heard before, so he whisked him away from the marble floor entirely. If asked, Spock would explain that since Florum didn't understand spoken language, he was just warning it off in a way that was expedient. He had to admit though, at least to himself, that he was annoyed that the Florum would clearly ignore Leonard's flower crown that basically flashed a blaring 'taken; not interested' sign at them.
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zickmonkey · 15 days
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I realized today that I was really genuinely imagining my future.
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moeblob · 2 months
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There was a post I saw about someone who mutually ghosted a guy after a date and kept matching with him and they're not interested but it's the longest "relationship" the person had been in at that point and I'm like. Karen would mutually ghost someone.
She doesn't really tell Brent/Right/Evelyn/Chris his name (he has a double first name, Patrick is not his last name) and just refers to him as "My Guy". Like "Ah damn, My Guy matched again. End my suffering." And when she tries to explain it to Right who does NOT understand how it's different, her logical answer is "it's my God given right to ghost a polite man!"
Also I just imagine her confiding in Paul about Rick and he's like "is his name Patrick" and she's like "kinda". And after that, Paul calls him "Pattycakes" cause he's never even seen the guy so why not give him a funny little nickname. He's allowed to do so at this point probably.
#my characters#also i just think it would be so funny to have him walk into the bar when karen and the boys are all there#and she sees him and is like OH MY GOD ITS MY GUY AND HE HAS A WOMAN WITH HIM I have to go congratulate him#and she jumps out of the booth to go say hi to him and the rest of her group is staring with wide eyes because whomst#and then her shoulders drop and the guy looks nervous and then karen is just gesturing to her group#and she walks him over and is like hey this is my guy and his cousin i hate my life#and then introduces rick to her friends/coworkers in the worst way ever like.... so lackluster#thats right and hes gay and pining and possibly dating#thats brent and hes pining and possibly dating#thats chris and he might have a divorce on his track record (HEY!) but we still love him#and thats paul the disaster bisexual currently pining#she sighs then points to the bar and goes AND I GUESS ILL INCLUDE the pining hot bartender in the introductions#everyone meet rick and his cousin and rick is like oh ! paul! hes your best friend!#cause he KNOWS that name from their ONE DATE that they both pretend didn't happen#and paul is just sunshine and flowers and beaming like oh ?? OH ??? KAREN? BESTIE? MY BEST FRIEND?#and she blushes and glares at rick because DOES THAT LOOK LIKE A FACE THAT CAN HANDLE COMPLIMENTS YOU JERK look what you did to him#and rick is v sorry and feels bad about it cause hes really just some random polite guy and thats why it would never work#hes too nice for karen and she CRAVES the teasing THE BANTER THE LANGUAGE and no hes just nice bye#so he leaves with his cousin to get some drinks and walks back over after hes done#and stares at paul as he says wow the bartender really is pining like you said in response to karen and paul wants to melt into his seat#therefore karen will forgive her guy for telling paul he was her best friend (its true tho) bc he made paul embarrassed#and he smiles at her and says bye and she just nods and is like yup talk to you next time we match#and its never romantic its always platonic#they are always going to match but its NEVER going to go beyond friends#though they do become friends and hang out eventually!#yes you can tell i thought about this A LOT on the drive#oops i fell in love
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vvanessaives · 7 months
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no but thinking of violante's manic state following her murder of ruven and that sick game of association-replacement played by gortash where he acts just like ruven did, picks up some of his behaviours and mannerisms and speech patterns he specifically used with violante and that he knows of well bc he observed and studied them interact, so that he can fill up the now empty spot left by ruven's death.
#rena.txt#LIKE THE LAYERS. vio is visibly not. alright. it's all about 'i'm alone without him' so he plays a role. takes advantage of the weakness so#to devote her to him like she was devoted to ruven. vio could've killed for ruven and now more than ever she's a powerful asset to have on#your side. plus she showed she can and will kill. she took out the only person she cared for (in their twisted ways) in the world so she's#useful but dangerous. a double edged blade. no better moment than now that vio is so unstable and lacks purpose and a sense of community#to lure her on his side for his future plans. there's smth about the manipulation in it that makes me lose it like#i know this is what you desperately need rn and i know you know you will never have it back so what if i showed you i can be that thing#you're missing? that sense of loneliness is what he's pressing on the most. and the loss too. and vio notices ofc she recognises when he#speaks or acts in a certain way. she's aware but willingly letting his plan work bc god. she does miss ruven so sickly much and the comfort#in a lie is preferable to what's going on in her mind in that moment.#there's exploitation and there's a lil touch of loneliness on his side too and it's bitter to pretend to be someone else to convince her to#stay but he won't ever admit it. genuinely think that if vio didn't leave without saying a word his plan would've worked. she'd willingly#pretend he could replace ruven. it would hurt less probably#that devotion that could lead her to do great horrors...both her weakness and strength 👍 the illusion of free choice 👍#it's past 3am if i could elaborate better i would but i feel like i'm having visions at this point.hit me with a giant hammer so i can slee#i 🫶 toxicity in my characters dynamics btw
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gxlden-angels · 1 year
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Throughout all of this, I never thought about the potential for my family members to also deconstruct/leave fundamentalist christianity, even if they remained a more progressive christian in the end
#I came out to my dad this weekend and he took it like#scarily well#specifically as trans. I'm still figuring out sexuality and also he doesn't need to know all that lol#this man used to punish me for *not* wanting to spend his money on clothes and hair styling#he pulled up his bible app on his ipad and told me my deceased mother would be disappointed when I tried to come out nearly 10 years ago#and we didn't really talk about it after that until now#He's still a christian but he hasn't gone to our church since the pandemic started since we moved houses#then I left for college#so he didn't really have a reason to travel 45 mins to keep going to that specific church#his father still does though and is as extreme as he always was#if not more since he sees more/is getting sick so he's holding onto religion more#We lived with his father for a few years and I think we both started to see how extreme that life was there#cause that's also where I started deconstructing#I don't think he's ever going to leave christianity completely like I did#and I'm willing to pretend to be one for him#but he's significantly calmer now#and said he honestly just wants me to be able to survive and be happy even after he's gone#he even knew when pride month was and helps decorate at work#though that's not really by choice since it's a part of his job#but yea I came out to him as trans and he's okay with it. he just wants me to be happy. we aren't gonna tell his father tho#or his mother for that matter though she has the gentler calm nature that my dad inherited#it's been a journey seeing him reconcile with that from my end since it was usually something with me that made him rethink things#he's at a point where he cares much more about seeing me happy than being 100% perfect for Jesus. He doesn't need to be perfect either#I'm still processing all of it ngl. He even accepted the little resource bag I made for him#n e ways thanks for reading my little ramble about coming out and seeing my dad leave fundamentalism for a gentler christianity#that makes both of us happier both now and in the long run#I never really considered the possibility of that happening#next step: coming out to my mom's side of the family. tho I might just let them figure it out like the rest of my dad's side
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bat-the-misfit · 4 months
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with this heat i've been itching to shave my hair again BUT i've been growing it for so long to see how it looks like short but longer than short-short you know? THE AGONY IS KILLING ME
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#it's been a self-discovery to get my curls back you know it's been years#my hair is not curly CURLY it's more wavy but it has some “big” curls idk how to explain#BUT IT'S TOO HOT#BUT I'VE BEEN GROWING IT FOR SO LONG I MUST STAY STRONG#DEMI LOVATO I WILL STAY STRONG I PROMISE#omg 7 years old me resurrected for two seconds to write that lol#right now if i straightened it it would def look like a bowlcut#the will byers fan in me would be so proud of myself#also no you didn't read it wrong i did say heat i live in the southern hemisphere#we need more southern hemisphere rep so i won't need to explain it to gringues ever again#it's annoying sometimes when some gringue say “omg you celebrate xmas on SUMMER??? that's wRoNG”#sweetie that's how the world works idgaf it sounds wrong to you do you want me to pretend it's cold to fit your xmas?#fuck your xmas leave me alone#i'm literally sitting on the floor in front of the fan right now and that shouldn't be seen as weird#people don't even know how their planet works isn't that wild#aNYWAY back to the hair talk#my hair is really “rebellious” (it fits the owner's personality) so it kinda of looks like tim burton's hair but a little bit shorter#if you googled him and is now thinking “omg Bat don't you brush your hair????” lemme tell you brushing it doesn't work#after it dries it goes up and sideways and it curls and it rebels#it goes everywhere but down#my hair is as crazy as me#my mother is freaking out bc she wants me to do smth for it to look more “normal” lmao#it's not my fault lol#ok i'll stop rambling#I'M LONELY OK??? LEAVE ME ALONE#wait what#ok that sounded funny lol#tio morcego tá tagarela
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lxnarphase · 4 months
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baby put your back into it ๋࣭ ⭑
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☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : idc idc i wanted something self-indulgent and want toji to call his wife 'ma'. hopefully it's good, it's been a long while since i have written anything so enjoy ☾
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you notice a slight change in toji...seems like his breeding kink reached the next level
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it didn't take long for you to notice something was different with toji. he would just...keep referencing families, babies, pregnancy...it was definitely weird coming from him.
"can you believe how expensive diapers are? if you ever had a baby, i'd just steal them, 'm not gettin' scammed for piss-'n'-shit-holders."
"...do you think you'd have a fat baby? jus' asking, 'cause you got some fat cheeks. and this time, I'm talking about the ones on your face."
"i hope you don't get gross cravings if you get pregnant. hot chips, peanut butter, and bacon? nah, wife or not, i'd beat your ass."
but everything really got worse when he started calling you that fucking nickname.
"hey, pretty ma."
"mmm, c'mon, ma, stay in bed with me longer..."
"fuck, you look so good under me like this, ma...can't wait to destroy that pretty cunt."
you didn't think too much of it, it was probably just toji being...toji. except, now? you realize exactly what's been plaguing his mind.
"you make me so fuckin' mad, y'know that," toji huffs, his fingers digging into the plush fat of your hips as he helps you fuck yourself on his thick cock.
you scoff, giving a little grind of your hips. the way he sucks in a breath and rolls his hips up into you made you grin; he talks so much shit for someone whose dick throbbed so much from that little movement.
"if i didn't make you mad, toj, you wouldn't have stuck around."
you don't give him the chance to give you a snide response before you climb off his lap and further up on the bed, giving the silent hint to switch positions. toji has to bite his tongue, shooting you a glare that makes you grin.
"you are insufferable, woman," he grumbles, coming to hold himself over you as he continues to glare down at you. toji sucks at pretending to be mad you, you think with a giggle, seeing need swirl in those pretty eyes of his. he slides his cock between your slick folds, cursing when it catches on your entrance.
just as toji is about to slide back in, you press your hand against his abdomen while your other hand wraps around the base. "ooh," he hisses, smirking down at you. "pretty wife's gonna put it in for me?"
however, it's clear he doesn't expect it when you begin to tug the condom off, eyes snapping up to you. oh, that absolutely adorable look on your face, brows furrowed together and embarrassment all over it...he felt himself twitch because of it. your usual cocky and smug persona seemed to have melted away.
"babe...what are you—"
"toji, do you wanna have a baby with me?"
the sudden question makes him freeze, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and arousal. were you seriously asking him this now? as you fucking tugged the condom, making it slowly peel off his dick?
did you know there was no coming back from this?
"i'm being serious, fushiguro, give me an answer before i make you put a new condom on," you mutter shyly under your breath, the condom finally coming off.
he's snapped back to the present when he feels you rubbing his tip through your soaking cunt, little sighs leaving you when it brushes over your clit.
"...are you serious? hey, hey, look at me. you're not fuckin' with me right now, are ya? tell me. you really want t' have a kid with me?"
you finally make eye contact with him, that vulnerable look on your face making his heart race. you were too precious for your own good...god he was so fuckin' happy he wifed you up.
"yes, toji, i want you to make me a mommy. i...i-i want to start a family with you, okay? so stop asking me questions and jus—oh-!"
with no hesitation and no time to finish your sentence, toji slides himself inside, his hips flush against your ass as he groans your name. you're so fucking warm and wet, holy shit, he could cum just from having you wrapped around him like this.
"good god, you're gonna be the fucking death of me," he groans, leaning down to press a heated kiss against your lips. "i'm gonna ruin you, i'm goin' to fuckin' destroy you and this little cunt, you know that right?"
toji starts moving, setting a fast, deep, rough pace that makes his hot tip press against every part of you in ways that make your eyes roll back. "t-toj, w-waaait—!"
he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as he lifts your legs up, putting you into a goddamn mating press to stuff you full and you know you aren't going to make it out of this sane.
especially not when you keen at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.
"i can't, i can't wait, ma, i can't," he huffs into your ear, the room filling with the wet slaps of his balls smacking against your ass, the wet squelching of your needy cunt trying to suck his cock back in each time he pulls out.
"do you know what it fuckin' does to a man to hear his. fucking. wife. say she wants him to knock 'er up? huh? you don't d'you, baby girl," he asks into your ear, hips pounding hard against yours to punctuate each word.
all toji can think about is you, you getting round with his baby, you glowing so gorgeously, the way you'll out all cute, maybe get pudgy all over, all because of him...and everyone would know who did it.
"hoohmygod, listen to that pretty pussy," he hisses, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his eyes flutter back into his head.
you can't help but hear it, it sounds so messy and sloppy, you just know you'll have to replace the sheets after this. but that's the last thing on your mind when he shifts forward just a bit, making your hips tilt up just a little more—
"oh my god, toji, t-toji, baby, don't stop, please," you practically sob, lifting your hips up to meet his thrusts as he hits that sweet spot so perfectly.
a cruel smirk breaks out on his face when he realizes he found that spongy spot inside you that makes you cream, leaning close and pressing his forehead against yours. "i know, i know, it feels good, doesn' it? yeah, you're such a slut for my cock, fuckin' milkin' it like a good girl," he coos to you condescendingly.
"w-we can't go back, toj," you whimper, your hands coming up to cup his face. you messily press wet kisses all over his face as you moan openly. "c-can't fuck with condoms anymore, it feels too good, baby,"
"shh, shh, mama, i got you," he reasures you, chuckling at how precious you are...telling him not to fuck you with condoms anymore? oh, he had no problem with that.
"'m gonna make sure i breed you nice 'n' deep, yeah? gonna get you pregnant with my baby," he coos, moving his hand between you both to rest on your stomach. "'m gonna fill you up...right here," he says with a devious tone before he presses down right as he pushes back inside of you.
"babyyyy, i'm cumming," you cry, digging your nails into his back as tears stream down your face. he didn't stop, still snapping his hips into you as you orgasm, feeling you squeeze him so fucking tight as he talks you through it, little phrases of 'that's it, keep cumming' and 'goooood, you're gettin' so wet, milk that cock, it's all for you' being huskily groaned into your ear.
but, when you think he'll stop, giving you a break...you realize he's not, he's not stopping, toji's still fucking you, and you glance down and see how you're creaming, your cum coating his cock in a milky sheen as you squeal, managing to get your legs off his shoulders to try and move up on the bed away from his unforgiving pace.
"tojiiii, 's too much," you huff, managing to move far up the bed enough that only the tip is inside of you...but toji isn't letting you get away that easily.
"nononono, don't run away, don't run away from me, mama." he follows you up the bed until you are trapped between him and the pillows messily pushed against the headboard.
"don't run, c'mon, get back on my cock, tha's it," toji rasps, his voice making you shiver. he sounds so desperate, so unhinged, so needy. he looks so good like this, you think, mewling when he pushes back inside.
"there she is, good girl, lettin' me breed her cunt."
your insides are getting turned into mush, and, fuck, was he going deeper? you nodded your head, but you didn't even know why, it jsut felt right, felt so good, you were gonna cum again—
"i need to fuckin' breed you," he practically whines, toji's eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on chasing his end, your sticky cunt driving him fucking mad. soon, he'd be cumming inside of you, filling you up, his hot, thick cum getting sucked right into your womb by your desperate pussy...
"shit, fuck, doll, let me cum in you, let me empty my balls inside of you, i want it so fuckin' bad, mama, let me make you my pretty pregnant wife, please, let me give you a baby—"
he was rambling, eyes snapping open as he tried to glare at you but you just moan when he made eye contact. he's trying sohard to seem angry, but he's not, he's melting in your walls, eyes begging you to let him paint them white, to try and knock you up.
you nod again, rapidly to the point you get dizzy, hands grabbing his biceps and squeezing hard. "toji, don't you, hhf, waste a fuckin' drop, or i swear to god i will t-tie you up and milk you until you are shooting blanks, give me your fuckin' baby—"
"—fuckin' shit, babyyy, i'm cumming, fucking take it, take it, take my cum into that pretty little cunt-!"
the groan that he gives you is loud and needy, dropping down to messily kiss you as he pounds into you in deep, hard thrusts trhough his orgasm. you shudder violently at the feeling of thick, hotness filling you up from the inside. it's so much, you can tell it's not all gonna fit, feeling some of it messily spurt out of you as his thrusts grow lazier.
"thank you, baby," you softly coo, thankful for both the break of overstimulation and the pleasant feeling of being so full. he nearly collapses on you, holding himself up with his forearms as he pants, catching his breath as you kiss all over his face, waiting for him to come back to you.
eventually, he sits up, a hand running through his messy hair as his other one stays on your waist, stroking it up and down, taking in the view of you catching your breath against the pillows he cornered you against.
...you're so so pretty.
"shit...ah, damn, you're a mess," toji mutters to himself, looking between the two of you. it's a filthy mess, a mixture of your cream and the thick cum that couldn't stay inside. hell, he doesn't think he's ever cum this much in one go before. "mmmn...it looks pretty though," he says with a proud smirk. he did that to you, after all.
as he goes to pull out of you, toji's shocked by the way you manage to gain the strength to flip him onto his back...just that single move had him twitching back to hardness inside you as wide eyes looked up into your mischievous ones.
"don't pull out, yet, toj...just one more time? just to make sure it takes?"
an almost evil smirk breaks out on toji's face as he digs his fingertips into your ass, hard enough that it'll leave marks.
"shit, i knew i married the right fuckin' woman. come on, baby girl, let me see you fuck me stupid. let's make sure i give my wife what she wants.
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work
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xiaowhore · 4 months
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intoxicating.
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premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
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Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
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“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
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When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
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undressrehearsal · 3 months
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dare to be stupid
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summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months
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Hands
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Summary: His hands are...big. A/N: I saw someone say this mans hands are 11 inches and i genuinely started tweaking. bro. his hands are larger than my head......
Miguel x Reader, Fluff?, Little suggestive, Drabble,
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Spider-Man 2099 was probably one of the biggest Spider-Man ever. Well, if you're not counting the robots and dinosaurs–Miguel O'Hara is abnormally large for a human. Half-Human.
Standing at a whopping six foot and nine inches, his bulky build didn't help with his intimidating aura and height. So yes, he was tall but also wide.
Which also meant that everyone, at least, most people were shorter than him.
You could tell that it even became a problem. While talking to him, he'd have to bend his neck to talk to you. His posture would slouch just so he could hear you speak. When he'd look away, Miguel would rub the back of his neck, massaging out the knots that were forming from craning his head down so much to talk to the other Spiders.
You've seen tall people and you've seen others with muscles–however you were more focused on something smaller. As Miguel would type away on his monitor, viewing and discarding dim yellow screens in the air, you'd not so subtly stare at his hands. A part of you was amazed and a part of you had some sort of sick guilty pleasure watching his fingers move around. You coughed into your fist and looked away when Miguel snapped his head down at you, the familiar heat crawling up your neck.
“What?” He grumbles, his eyes squinting down at you.
“Huh? Wuh?” You turn your head around, pretending to think he's talking to someone else.
Miguel rolls his eyes, a soft scoff escaping his lips before he grabs your chin. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel’s fingers squishing your cheeks and pulling you forward to him. His fingers stop near your temple and you can barely hear his voice through the haze of your mind.
“Wait–wait, say that again?” You whisper while Miguel just stares at you.
He lets go of you and you miss the heat from his palm. “You obviously aren’t focused. Either get it out of your head or leave. I don’t need someone distracted right now.” He tsks and focuses back on the monitors, hands waving in the air. You shuffle from side to side, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists. You fought with yourself wondering if you should let the impulse get to you. “Can I see your hands?” You blurt out. Miguel freezes but his eyes are in a confused wide stare at his screen. “What?” “For like a second!” You defended yourself, holding out your palms and raising your eyebrows in a pleading way. Miguel looks between your hands and face, an uncomfortable and confused glint in his eyes. Pouting, you take it as rejection, sniffling dramatically to yourself. But Miguel looks away as he places his hand in yours gently. You gasp in happiness and bring it up to your eyes. You press your thumbs to his palm, both of them looking tiny. Pressing harder, you notice little slits of his talons coming out and you giggle. Pressing over and over again, you watch as the little claws extract and retract repeatedly. Miguel’s eyebrow twitches. Then using one of your hands, you place yours and his hand together, wrist to wrist as close as possible. You blink and take a closer look at the size difference. Your entire hand barely reached past his palm, his fingers even longer.
While you marveled at how giant Miguel was, Miguel looked down at you with a flushed expression. Blush scattered across his cheeks as he noticed how small you were compared to him. He knew he was a big guy–he knew that compared to him, everyone was pocket sized. But particularly about you, it was more in his face. He had an urge to wrap his fingers over yours, wanting to see how it would engulf yours. You move his hand to the front of your face, your nose bumping into his middle finger. Even then, his hand was still very much larger than your head. “Holy shit. Do they even make things in your size here?” You laugh, your breath hitting his suit and he feels the warmth of your laugh through the fabric. Miguel squirms slightly, watching how his hand is covering your entire face. If he wanted, he could grab you right now. He could grab you, pick you up, cover your blabbering mouth easily, and maybe he can easily push your head into the mattress with a single hand– Miguel burns, looking away and pushing your face away from him. You yelp and stumble back from the force, catching yourself before you hurt yourself on the floor. “OW?” You glare at him. He’s turned away from you, back to bringing up video files and camera recordings of different universes. “Get back to work now.” He growls and you dust yourself off with a huff. You take another glance at him before sighing and facing the other way–failing to notice the tips of his ears a dark red shade.
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