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#bit of practice I should be able to get better at them
winterrrnight · 2 days
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there’d better be a mirrorball
PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader
SUMMARY: you couldn’t attend senior prom, so your boyfriend bought the prom to you.
WARNINGS: mentions of puking and food poisoning, sweetheart rafe, usage of nicknames, intentional use of lower case
EDITH SPEAKS: huge huge thank you to miss @zyafics who had to see my poorly edited photo of a terrace and helped me figure out that it’s called a ‘gazebo’, except that picture didn’t actually have a gazebo in it (I’m sorry I’m so bad at explaining shit 😭) but yeah zya you’re a real one ilysm 💙🌟
if you liked reading this please consider reblogging! feedback is always appreciated 🪩
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it was the saddest day of your life.
you went to sleep all excited, your dress laid out, your shoes right next to the dress, your jewelry picked out, a clear image of your make up look in your head; just for you to wake up and do the last thing you’d expect for that day: puke.
your puke was unceremoniously cleaned up by your mom, who when touched her hand to your forehead, claimed that you were burning up. when you tried to speak, your voice barely came out – it was hoarse and heavy. and it was even worse when you couldn’t stand on your own two feet for a few moments before starting to feel an intense body ache that had you flopping back onto your bed.
“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you should go to prom today–”
“no!” came out your rough voice, tears starting to blur your vision as you took a look at your perfectly arranged dress and accessories for the coming night. your mom couldn’t bear to see the sight but she had to exercise her never expiring mom card and made you miss the prom.
you were laying in your bed, your curtains drawn and the lights turned off to not let any harsh lighting pulsate your already throbbing headache even more than before. you had called your boyfriend rafe and had given him the unbearing news of you not being able to attend prom because of your horrible health – which was concluded as food poisoning by your mother – and he felt his heart shatter with the news.
rafe, who was never interested in prom before, was looking forward to that night because you were his date. you made his decision regarding proms flip to a total 180 and convinced him on how fun it would actually be, and now what? now, you can’t go, you: the light to the dark side of his moon.
“then that’s simple, I’m not going either,” came his voice through your microphone. you groaned for what felt like the millionth time, and shook your head.
“you are going rafe,” you said, your voice clearing up just a bit thanks to those sharp tasting lozenges your mother dumped into your mouth. “okay? you are going. the rest of our friends are going to be there, and it’s the senior prom! you are going, and that’s final.”
damn. even when you’re lying sick in your bed, you still have your control over him.
rafe reluctantly agreed to go to the prom, but before he went there, he stopped by at your place to check up on you. he brought you some fresh flowers and put them in a vase to sit in your room.
“when I come back, I’m coming straight to you, okay?” he murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, not listening to your whines on how he shouldn’t kiss you because you were sick.
the hours passed, and you made a quick scroll through your social media – something which you knew you shouldn’t. there were already a gazillion pictures and short videos from the evening, everyone dressed up in fancy fabrics from head to toe, jewelry gleaming on their ears and necks, and familiar pop music played in the background. you sighed, feeling yourself getting more and more sad and left out as you practically threw your phone aside, and decided to just nap to get your mind off of it.
you were woken up by your name spoken by an all too familiar melodious voice, and a soft nudge to your shoulder.
“wake up baby…” you heard in your ear. you opened your eyes and were met with rafe’s bright blue ones. his blazer had come off and was hanging on his shoulder, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.
“yeah?” you muttered as you rubbed your eyes and sat up.
“come on, I want to take you somewhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched you awaken.
“take me where?” you asked and without any questions, you followed rafe’s lead, who helped you to your feet and helped you put on your shoes. he draped his blazer over your shoulders and took your hand, leading you out of your room.
“just come with me, you’ll love it,” he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. you lived only a few doors down from tannyhill, and rafe kept you well tucked under his arm as he kept up with your slower pace of walking than usual and led you to his place.
he led you inside the huge mansion, and when he saw how tired your body had gotten from the walking, he carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs, all the way up to the terrace.
“now…” he hummed as he set you down, both of you standing right outside the closed door of the terrace. “i’m going to cover your eyes, okay?” he said softly, and when he saw you didn’t interject, he covered your eyes with his fingers. he opened the door and carefully led you out to the terrace.
“i’ll lift my hands in 3… 2… 1…”
at 1, his hands came off and you were greeted with a sight that made you gasp.
multiple strings of golden fairy lights hung all around the terrace, a record player spun in a corner, a table was covered with drinks, chocolates and other little treats, and to your right, right under the wooden gazebo, was a mirrorball.
a mirrorball hung right from the center of the gazebo, spinning slowly and slowly as it reflected silver light in different directions, producing a complex display. you gasped at the sight, the spherical object rotating and momentarily reflecting across you, the reflections mere spheres that appeared and disappeared on your body at different parts each time.
“rafe…” you muttered, and you felt his arms wrap around your waist from the back, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“this is our prom baby,” you whispered in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.
“when… when did you even do this?” you whispered, still in awe from the entire decoration.
“I came back from prom early, it was extremely boring without you,” he murmured. “couldn’t stand being there without my pretty girl,”
you turned around in rafe’s hold to face him. “this… this is so beautiful…” you whispered, looking in his twinkling eyes. you wanted to say more, you really did, but you were falling short of words because you were still trying to recover from the surprise.
“not as beautiful as you baby,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you broke into a smile. he can be so cheesy.
“now come on, I believe you owe me a dance,” he grinned as he walked up to the record player. he changed the vinyl spinning and you watched him curiously, but all curiosity washed away when you heard the gentle instrumentals of there’d better be a mirrorball fill the space around you.
he walked back to you with a cheeky grin and took your hand in his, leading you to the gazebo where you both stood right under the mirrorball. he took your hands in his and brought you closer to him, placing your arms around his neck and placing his around your waist, and starting to sway you gently to the music.
you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he kept you close in your arms, both of your eyes fluttered shut as you gently swayed to the music, taking in the moment.
“I love you,” you heard the faint sound of rafe’s voice in your ear. you felt your heart thump at his words, a soft smile forming on your face.
“I love you just as much,” you whispered back, burying your face in his neck. he smiled softly at your words, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to sway you both.
by the end of the night, you had completely forgotten you had to miss prom.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
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sinning-23 · 14 hours
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Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.3 (Uncle!Sukuna x Teacher!Auntie!Reader)
Alright yall pt.3 also the FINALEEEE lmao I hope you guys enjoyed this lmao and uhhh thank you for the love n support!
This part is a bit longer than the other ones so I hope yall enjoy ll I got a lil crazy wit this. Just for reference this part is NSFW so uhh minors get tf gone lmao.
Warninga: Obviously nsfw, fingering, p in v, slight choking/biting? Very faint, mild overstim, bathroom sex lol, saliva as lube?, try to be quiet trope?
ENJOY!~
Part 2 here
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He's got his hands busy with the flesh of your thighs, kneading them as your mouths work against one another in unison. He groans the feeling of you seated against his clothed length enough to drive him crazy. Sukuna'd be lying if he said he didn't love how you'd whine at his slight upward thrust, your thighs clenching a bit.
The true task at hand here was to not wake Yuji who was sleeping rather soundly in his room. However, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Sukuna insists on lifting you up a bit just so he can roll his hips into yours, desperate enough to have you both basically dry-humping on the couch.
Your nightshirt keeps slipping down your shoulder so he takes it as a sign to press kisses there, your head lolling back and he skilfully captures the back of your head, his canines scraping against your pulse, his breath hot against the flesh there.
"W-Wait shouldn't we-" You begin, feeling a bit guilty about being intimate on someone else's furniture.
"Nuh-uh, you tryna find excuses now ain't you? Don't wanna mess up my brother's nice couch?" He grins, successfully forcing your eye contact.
"I just don't wanna be rude." You admit, whimpering again when he grinds up into you, vocalizing a groan in response himself.
"That's fine. I got a better idea." He admits, not only standing but easily hoisting you up long with him, his bulge pressed deliciously against your clothed cunt.
"What? Where?" You're clinging to him, your ankles wrapped around his waist as he keeps a firm grip on your backside.
You're traveling a bit down the hall now and he takes a swift turn to the bathroom you'd used earlier.
"I know it's not ideal, and if I had it my way I'd take you to my place right the fuck now." He explains, setting you against the countertop before hiking up your shirt.
"But I know you don't care." He huffs, lifting your boobs with each of his hands, squishing and teasing them, his mouth already latched to one as he covered the space in large, deep-colored bruises.
"I know you don't care that much about being rude as to keep from having his pussy fucked either." He growls, using his free hand to cup it, this thumb touching just over where your clit should be, only held back by your pajama pants and the sheer fabric of your panties.
"F-Fuck. Okay, okay, you're right." You whine, twitching when he applies more pressure.
"Atta girl." He grunts, pulling your pants down along with his, a hiss leaving his mouth when you trace your hand down his chest.
He takes your wrist, guiding it further, your body practically vibrating when he let's you touch it over the fabric of his boxers.
"Uh huh, you feel that?" He moans, Your manicured nails raking over his shaft, the feeling of it twitching in your hand making you gasp.
He cant help but give a quiet, 'fuck' as if rests in your hand.
" I-Its big. I don't know how I'm... Jesus." You whisper, swallowing in anticipation.
"Imma make sure you can handle it mamas, promise." He encourages, letting you dip below the waistband and actually feel it. He whines, bucking into your hands warmth at the feeling.
Fuck it's thick... You can feel a couple of the veins that run along the sides and soon you're able to pull it out of his boxers, truly getting a chance to admire it. God damn it, it's pretty too?! It was easily 7 inches, a nice curve upward with a slightly pink hue at the tip. And apparently, his hair color was natural cause the curtains matched the drapes.
"You gonna stop staring at it and- Oh fuck." He growls, his head lolling back when you start moving up and down, squeezing just enough at the tip to make him thrust into your touch.
"And what? C'mon Ryo, what happened to all that shit you were taking a second ago?" Your voice, newfound confidence, and pure unbridled lust flowed through each syllable.
"F-Fuck, here I thought you'd be shy about this." He huffs, looking down at how your hand held him so nicely, your lips parted, tongue out to let saliva drip down as you sloppily stroke his cock.
"Oh, you're nasty." He encourages, gripping the counter for dear life at this point.
The sounds is so wet, salive mixing with precum as you continue to keep up the pace, multitasking as your mouth works hickeys to his neck.
"See cause now I gotta-" Sukuna begins, his hand quick at your throat as he captures your lips, moving your hands to the side so he can access you.
His free hand works to pull your panties to the side and he easily slips two fingers past your folds, a slippery squelch sounding as a result.
"S-Shit-" You whine, the thickness of his middle and ring finger alone stretching you deliciously.
"What happened Miss Y/n? Huh?" He teases, curling his fingers upward, using the hand that was once around your neck to lift your face and force eye contact.
"Huh?" He asks again, his thumb moving circles around your clit as he continues to move his fingers in and out, the pace making you rock your hips in seek of more.
"I d-dont, I can't, fuck Ryo." You whimper, clutching his bicep as he gives that menacing grin again, pressing kisses to your jawline, occasionally sucking just to liter you with more hickeys.
"Yes, you can. Answer me, c'mon mamas I know you can. Or does it feel too good?" He asks, only getting a gasp in response when he proceeded to do the same thing you did moments prior. Warm saliva travels from his pierced tongue, down to your already sopping wet cunt.
"Hm? I'm making you feel good baby?" Oh he was definitely fucking with you now, knowing good as well at this rate you'd be cumming all over his fingers if he kept this shit up. All you could do was nod, resting your head against his tatted shoulder as he chuckles darkly.
"Gonna cum already? I can feel you squeezing." He notes, not stopping however. And sure enough you do, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound of your orgasm, stomach spasming as he slows down, smiling against your neck.
"Y-You suck." You huff, still coming down from your high, opening your legs a bit to look down at the mess you'd made on his fingers when he removed them. The sudden emptiness makes you suck in a breath.
"Oh yea?" He laugh, soon becoming hyperfocuses on how close he was to your entrance.
There's a silence for a moment like neither of you wants to be the one to ask for more in fear of coming off as greedy or desperate.
"Are you, done?" he asks, almost unsure, his hands gripping your hips now, dick twitching at the fact that he's so so close.
"No, you?" You laugh, scooting forward just enough that his tip is touching your slick folds.
"Fuck no...Can I?" He asks, and with a nod of your head, he pushes in, a hiss befalling both of you.
You pull in him further, your legs wrapping around his waist to do so. He swears, watching how you'd taken all of him with no issue.
"Shhhhit you feel good." He compliments, pausing when he hears you hiccup.
"Mhm."You respond quickly, adjusting to being so full all at once, tears pricking the corner of your eyes,
"Shit, let's just- just wait a second. Damn, what did you think was gonna happen?" He chuckles, kissing the tears away, massaging the back of your neck with his free hand.
When he said a second he meant that shit, because right after he trusted ever so slightly, slow, soft, calculated, letting your pussy memorize the curve and every vein. The pace was set, soon increasing bit by bit the more you moaned, feeding into his ego. If the sounds before weren't absolutely filthy, these were, every time he pulled out resounding in a wet-sounding "shhlick". You both swear.
"Feel good? I can fuck you a lil harder now?" He asks, both answers being yes.
And as soon as it is, he helps you reposition, the mirrors now in front of you instead of behind. Your nightshirt is half off, the rest of it now bunched up near your upper back as he massages the fat of your ass, squeezing with hiss before landing a firm smack that makes you yelp. He only laughs, massaging it before pulling all the way out.
"R-Ryo wait I'm gonna be too lou-"
Too late, he bottoms out, your mouth opening as you're too late to cover the moan he'd just ripped from your throat.
"Holy shit, nah you gotta keep making noise for me, lemme know how good I'm making you feel." He growls each time his pelvis meets your ass you moan.
All you can do is lean against the bathroom sink and take each unrelenting stroke. He’s got your hair in a fist, your neck craned upwards to look at yourself in the mirror. God you don’t remember looking this pretty when you’re being fucked. Then again it had been a while-
“Look at you,” He chuckles, throwing his head back when your squeeze him.
You manage to let your face all against your forewarn to try and muffle your koans. It proved to be useless and he slams back into you again, a raged, “Fuck!” Sounding from the male behind you.
“Close, fuck don’t stop Ryo.” You hum, rolling your hips against his and he follows your pace, although it doesn’t last long when his hips begin to stutter.
“S-Shit, do that again baby, doing so good for me.” He praises, waiting until you fall apart to pull out, only then spilling onto the curve of your back.
Your legs wobble, a feeling of euphoria befalls you as you seem to somewhat blackout, vision blurring. It's messy, you're practically dripping down your thighs and all he can do is watch in awe at how fucking gorgeous you look like this.
He’s massaging you now, a soft apology falling from his kiss bruised lips as he wipes his mess away, planting kisses against your shoulder. The sweetness is nice, but he quickly reminds you that he’s a fucking goofball when he smacks your ass with a laugh,
“You okay mamas? You can stand up?” He asks, helping you stand up a bit with that stupid glaring on his face, knowing that he definitely did his big one after you fail to keep yourself up.
——8:36am————-
You’d forced yourself to wake up a little earlier, Ryomens' grip on you not softening after you'd fallen asleep together on the couch. He insisted you wear his shirt after your nightshirt had been stretched out from the night’s escapades.
So here you were in an oversized beater and your night shorts (which he had to help you put back on cause you were so fucked out)
On the stove were some pancakes you managed to make before Yuji woke, his plate already set along with Sukuna’s.
The light pitter patter of feet alerts you that the culprit you’d just thought of is awake and he reached up as far as his little hand could grasp to tug on your shirt.
“Uncle Sukuna said to ask Auntie Y/n if I can have some pant cake.” Yuji repeats, your eyes snapping to Sukuna’s frame on the couch.
Of course his eyes were closed, a smirk playing over his stupid gorgeous face.
All you go is laugh, scooping up the boy to put him in his high chair.
“Of course you can have some pancakes sweetie.” You hum, pushing him in and feeding his pancakes with a bit of syrup.
“Make sure you tell your TeaTea thank you.” Sukuna grumbles, peaking at you with a smile.
Yuji only does at he’s told, giving you the biggest brightest smile as you process the fact that this man has Yuji calling you Auntie already. You’d be sure to ask about that later.
“Thank you Auntie Y/N” Yuji shouts.
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Authors Note: HEY YALLLLL I tried to end this like kinda cutely? Lmao thank you so much again for all the love and support on the last two parts I wasn’t thinking this would BLOW UP like how it did lmao!
As always my inbox is always open so! If you have any ideas you wanna se written or anything feel free to leave me a message!
Anyway I hope you all enjoyed!
Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @kriegsumire-blog @peachhiz @khaotic-luca @samisfunky @minaloq @teupaidecalcinhasblog @gurutoru @snail-squasher @molita111 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @acidrefiux @ryomensgirll @artistesimp @s-l-u-t @isaacdaknight @sterzin @fushipurro @bakuhoes-bxtch @itsinherited @call-memissbrightside @thedondiva45 @wr4inn @theobsidianempress @sad-darksoul @moonjellyfishie @sukioyakio @mageeko @spindyl @skunabby @rixo-19 @the-haitani-baton @eliyuu @urfav-cupidon @h0nz06 @lem-hhn
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wrathofrats · 3 days
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Day 11- long distance- Swiss and aether
Thanks to @forlorn-crows as always 🫶
Tensions rise on tour, Swiss calls aether to try and make it better.
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“Hello?”
Aether answered the phone in a groggy tone. Swiss cringed at the sleepiness in his voice, rough as if he had just woken up. The time difference tended to escape him whenever he missed aether and sunny and picked up the phone to contact them, but neither minded. They were always happy to hear his voice.
“Aether? Did I wake you?” Swiss practically whispered. It was an unconscious attempt to not overwhelm him if he had actually woken him up, hoping the gentle tone could coax him out of being tired.
“Don’t worry about it, what’s up?”
Aether could hear the anxiety in Swiss’ voice. He could picture him picking at his nails and fiddling with whatever blanket was on his lap. He had always been a nervous fidgeter, one of his main tells that something was wrong.
“Well nothings wrong per say- it’s not an emergency but-“
“Swiss, tell me” aether cut him off
“How do you do it? How do you make every situation better?” There was a solemn air to the question. Aether knew Swiss well. Aether knew that something had happened and Swiss wasn’t handling it well. The pack could tend to be a lot sometimes, they all loved each other but conflict could sometimes be hard to tackle. Rain tended to retreat instead of handling issues, dew tended to blow up without thinking before he acted, cumulus got overwhelmed easily, and cirrus usually shut down, equipped with sharp sour words to ward off others.
It was always aether and mountain who would have to handle things if they got out of hand, a calming presence to drag everyone back and figure out a solution. Swiss could do this, but as much as he seemed like a more forceful figure, he was a people pleaser at heart. A pushover in the worst cases.
“Did something happen?”
Aether assumed there would be mild problems now that he and Sunny had been replaced with phantom and Aurora. Both were sweet ghouls, a little rowdy, but knew what they were doing. There hadn’t been any changes in a long time, not since ifrit and zephyr retired.
Dew had always taken it the hardest, the transition and ifrit stepping down made dew practically shut down inside. Quiet and harsh with his words for the first leg of that tour. He had processed and gotten better after a while, especially with aethers help.
But now that aether wasn’t there, there was question on how he would handle having phantom around in replace of him.
“Not exactly, it’s just been …… tense, to say the least” Swiss sighed, “nothing feels right. No one seems like themselves.”
“It’ll get better, everyone just needs time”
“No, I know, but I feel like I should be able to do something. If you were here you probably would have by now.”
Aether sighs, an ache in his heart for how hopeless Swiss sounds. There’s no solution, there’s always some kind of tension on tour. Living in a bus with even those you love the most will create problems after a while.
“It’s not your fault stardust”
“Well no, but mountain can usually have everyone happy again with a bit of time, but it shouldn’t be solely his responsibility”
“The fact that you care so much is all you need to do, you can only be you, you can’t be me. And we love you for you only”
“I know, I just-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re doing fantastic. They don’t need another aether, they need you right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you know how often I miss you guys and I look at your smile in photos and it makes me feel better?”
“You do?”
“You’re doing the best you can. You’re our stardust, remember? It’ll be ok”
“I love you aeth”
“Love you swiss”
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Hunting Practice
Warnings: Hunting Fish, let me know if I need to add more.
Author's Note: Su'cona's debute in Mermay!
Summary: Su'cona has been tasked with herding a bunch of Scouts on a hunt. Things go well.
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog
Just in case Tagged: @kit-williams
He's been on Ancient Terra for several months, and he's watching over a pod of Scout-aged Salamanders, mostly monitoring how they are doing with hunting after several large tuna, they'd been going after the fish, and a couple of his bolder little brothers managed to spear one of the fish, causing the rest of them to scatter, so long as they brought back at least three or four of the massive fish, they'd be find. He going to do an active part of the hunt if they have trouble getting the amount required of them. Some of the large fish are heavy with eggs, which pleases Su'cona, as the fish eggs are a delight to eat, they pop and have delightfully salty flavor that dancing merrily on one's tongue.
Well, unless they were picky eaters, which, as an Astartes, who can feasibly eat nearly everything, but whether they should or not is another matter entirely. They do have ways to make nutri-paste and that is what they usually eat, but occasionally having fresh, real food, is a treat, it doesn't do much, not unless its in insanely high amounts, but having it as an occasional treat as they are taught hunting skills or maintain such skills so as to not get rusty. A couple of his scouts swim over to him their chest puffed up with pride as they show the massive fish that they managed to catch and he nods smiles down at them.
"Well done, Scouts," He says proudly as he gently pats their shoulders.
They perk up, the smallest bits of praise seem to have the biggest impact, as adorable as it is, it also breaks his hearts as he notices that the Mechanicus has treated the poor younger brothers... poorly when he's been able to gently get them to tell them what they went through. Salamander training is long, and at times difficult, but they nurture each of their little brothers, helping them grow and be the best version of themself that they could be, and to continue to strive to be a better, stronger person as a whole.
He hadn't heard of Primaris Marines, until a little while ago, and they are good boys, larger, stronger, and faster in some ways, but still Scouts all of them. Which means they need training and learning their own strength and how to use it, as well as how to be gentle. They are good boys, a little too obedient at times, but seeing their little mischiefs is good, and as much as it occasionally exasperates him, he's glad that they are starting to, carefully, push their boundaries without going too far, usually, or without someone or someone’s doing something spectacularly stupid or foolish. Usually.
He'd heard of a pod of Primaris Lamenters hunting down a ship for stealing away their Sargent. They'd manage to win the day, a rare occurrence for the terminally, and often lethally, unlucky Sons of Sanguinius. While luck is a force in this galaxy that can be for, neutral and against others, at least, his luck has never been as poor as the Lamenters. He starts to herd the youngsters back to where the main pod of Salamanders in this area are schooling at the moment, it takes several days and they are all happy as they let out chirruping calls and croons to each other, happy to have the young hunters return and have had a successfully retrieved enough large fish so that they may all have a taste of the flesh and scales for it to be a delightful treat. He is glad that nothing untoward had happen before, during and after the hunt. Excitement could happen later, after they are fed and had some more rest.
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nail-art-no-jutsu · 3 days
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Itachi and Kisame nail polish headcanons
Itachi
he was super on board from day one, like yes hello fellow villains, I too am a fellow villain, if this is how we aim to distinguish ourselves from other ninja, by all means
he didn't get it right from the start, but he practiced A Lot, and figured out what works and what doesn't, because painting your nails is a skill, just like making perfect eggs for your little brother
and it was only a matter of time until Itachi was able to perfect every aspect of the thing
it's an absolute mystery how it happens but his one coat lasts for ages on his nails, Itachi is the second slowest at using up a whole bottle after Kakuzu, who silently appreciates this
Deidara's reaction to Itachi's flawless mani: "being careful not to flood your cuticles is overrated, un"
he rather likes the color, it's soothing, he's glad he wasn't assigned red to match his sharingan, it would look a bit too much like blood, and he doesn't need any reminder of the blood on his hands, thank you very much shfjfsfdsfs
and it's actually a fun activity, it's challenging enough to demand complete focus even when you're good at it, Itachi learned fast that you make a mess if you let your mind wander, so it provides a small but much needed break for his overactive brain
in a better world Itachi would have liked to discover this fun little thing in a different way and maybe Sasuke would have liked to learn to do his nails too, red probably - this is a world where red means tomatoes, not blood - and he could already imagine his lil bro asking him to teach him better clean-up skills and--
oops.
that was too much polish.
sigh.
Kisame
"we all have to do what?? ... okay :D this is fine :D"
nothing wrong with it in general, but... that color, why so intense, why not a blue that matches his skin, does purple even look right on him? does anything??
so he procrastinates, acts like he forgot, or he lost his bottle, but it always reappears like magic before Kakuzu can hold him accountable lmao
as soon as Itachi realizes the truth though, that alarm goes off in his head that puts him in unstoppable mode. his mission? make Kisame understand that there's nothing wrong with how he looks
so Itachi asks Kisame to let him do his nails too. for practice. there's always more room for practice. and it's such a powerful shade of purple, it suits Kisame perfectly, it looks great on him
Kisame tries to deflect the compliment, but then Itachi shows him purple flowers by the shore, and how beautiful that looks, and, ... okay. okay.
and that's how Kisame ends up with perfectly polished fingernails and toenails that he's proud of
it's an unspoken thing, the same way that Kisame says he's tired when it's very obvious that Itachi should rest but he'll never say so himself, and it's obvious to both of them what game they're playing
it's a peaceful ritual, they talk about all kinds of things, get to know each other, read between the lines, so on, so forth, and at least for a short while they can both pretend all is well
after a while Itachi shows signs of his health worsening, and then it's Kisame's turn to practice - "if you keep doing stuff for other people, they don't get to practice doing it themselves, don't you agree, Itachi-san? :D :D" and there's no way around it, Itachi lets Kisame do his nails
by now Kisame learned what to do just by watching Itachi do it so many times, if he gets polish on Itachi's fingers he knows how to clean it up properly too so they look exactly as if Itachi had done them himself
Kisame is sure that every "mistake" Itachi ever made was just to show him how to fix it but shh that's part of the secretly taking care of each other game
after Itachi's gone Kisame doesn't really wanna talk about it, but sometimes when he thinks no one's looking he checks his mani and he's like, "yep, Itachi-san was right, this color looks great on me" and grins because what else can he do lmao, what else can he do
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wheeboo · 2 months
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hi (i love you) | xu minghao
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SYNOPSIS. in which you take a trip through random glimpses of your growing relationship with minghao. PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader (ft. a mention of jihoon, and gyu and seokmin very briefly) GENRE. fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, established relationship, college au WARNINGS. hao is a year or two older than reader, drinking and reader getting drunk, kissing, terms of endearment at the end, the last scene is a lil suggestive WORD COUNT. 5.5k
notes: yes. this is literally just a compilation fic of them saying hi. ty zanna @slytherinshua for reading this over for me <3 there's like significant time skips between each section - just a lil sum to keep in mind cuz i dont wanna cause confusion or anything 😭😭😭 i find hao the hardest member to write for, so i hope i was able to characterize him well here!
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i. "hi." (fallow is the colour of dryness to my mouth when your eyes met mine.)
There's no way in hell you're going to let yourself be lost on the first day of university.
It's embarrassing enough accidentally waking up past your alarm and having barely any time to freshen up as much as you would like, so right now, you couldn't afford another disaster.
Taking a deep breath, you double-check your schedule and the layout of the campus on your phone, trying to match it with the signs around you. The different buildings and hallways of the campus seem like a maze in of itself, and you can feel the slight panic course up your veins. A sea of students rush past you, seemingly confident in their strides towards their own classes. A defeated sigh leaves you.
All you had to do was find the stupid art hallway.
You clench your phone tighter, your iron grip practically burning a hole through the screen. The campus map app wasn't making any more sense now than it did a minute ago. Frustration stings painfully at your eyes, but begging the earth to swallow you whole wouldn't get you to class any faster, so you force yourself to scan the crowd. There's bound to be at least someone who knows where it is and is willing to help you.
And so, your eyes catch sight of the first figure appearing conveniently in your peripheral vision𑁋a boy, dressed in a casual fallow-coloured flannel with a backpack casually slung over one of his shoulders, earphones in his ears, and peering down at something on his phone just like you were doing minutes ago (though he seems to be having a much better time than you)𑁋which was somehow enough for your feet to bolt you towards as if it had a mind of its own.
You feel the root of your nerves creep up your legs and branch up to your neck as you approach him, realising at this point, there's no turning back now. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, bracing yourself for a possible eye roll or annoyed sigh.
His eyes widen in surprise before settling on you, and at that moment, something strikes hard at whatever rehearsed lines you had in your head. It was all gone in a simple snap, from a simple look from him𑁋soft yet sharp brown eyes framed by dark lashes peering at you with a hint of surprise, fluffy dark hair showering down his neck and forehead a little, a dainty pair of silver earrings glinting at his ears. His whole face seems to hold a warmth that somehow eases a bit of the knot in your chest, but certainly not the one in your throat.
You open your mouth, but all the words die on your tongue. The air hangs heavy with a sudden awkwardness, and you can practically feel your cheeks burning. Maybe you should just turn around and pretend this never happened.
But then, you notice the way his lips lift up just slightly, and it makes your stomach do a flip. He glances down at his phone for a second, takes off his earphones, then brings his attention back at you.
"Hi," is all he says, and maybe, just maybe, your heart stops a little bit. It's just a simple word, but the way he says it𑁋all soft, quiet, a tad bit hesitant𑁋makes the fabric of your shirt feel tight on your body.
You didn't notice you were clenching your fists until you force them to relax at your side, clearing your throat in the process.
"Hi," You manage back nervously, surprised at how breathless you sound. "Sorry, I-I don't mean to intrude. It's just... Do you happen to know where the art hallway is? I'm trying to find my photography class."
You watch the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, unveiling more of a view of his piercings. He gazes briefly behind you at the clusters of other students gradually spilling into different hallways, hushing the space where the two of you stood. Then he returns his attention back to you, his expression softening slightly.
"You're not that far off," he comments, seemingly amused. "I was just heading there myself too."
"Really? That's a relief. The campus map is awful and confusing, and I swear this place was designed on purpose for you to get lost in, you know? And being lost on the first day is just..." You quickly shut your mouth up from your rambling, letting your voice fade into an embarrassed chuckle instead.
Your gaze falls to the ground for a moment, and when you pick your head back up to look at him, you catch a glimpse of the small curve that he has at his lips, barely a hint of a smile playing there. It's a small detail, but suddenly it feels like the most important thing in the world, and it throws your train of thought completely off track. He doesn't seem bothered by your little habit of rambling (admittedly, because of nerves), thankfully. Instead, he lets out a soft laugh, the sound washing over you like a warm summer breeze.
You can't help but sheepishly grin back, feeling a certain lightness bloom within your chest that probably has nothing to do with the weight of your backpack suddenly seeming lighter as well.
"It's okay," he reassures, voice as quiet and gentle as his gaze. "Everyone gets lost here sometimes. I've been there."
He starts walking, and you hesitate for a second before falling into step beside him. There's a small part of you urging to get to know him, as if this was the only opportunity to do so, but all the words you want to say sound clumsy and loud compared to the easy peacefulness that surrounds him.
And honestly, it feels... nice.
The hallway he leads you in is perhaps more than just a simple art hallway, the intoxicating scent of oil paint and clay blend together in the air. Paintings by students and faculty of every style imaginable line the walls, some bursting with vibrant colours, others muted and contemplative. Sculptures poke out from odd corners, and bulletin boards are overflowed with announcements of upcoming exhibitions and workshops, even though the year just started.
"Welcome to the art hallway," he beckons you casually and welcomingly, as if only this portion of the campus was a separate entity than others.
You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding in. "Thank you so much. Wow, this place is, um..." You stop yourself from continuing on, zipping your mouth shut. "I owe you. Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way. If there's anything I can𑁋"
"There's no need." He waves a hand dismissively at your offer, and for a second you feel something inside you sink, but the small hint of a smile to his face chases that feeling away just a little. "And it's Minghao... yeah. I'll see you around."
Before you can say anything more, you watch as he turns himself around and swiftly enters inside the room standing right behind him. A painting class.
(You are eight minutes late to class when a near-clear picture on the wall catches your gaze. It looks like a picture of Minghao standing next to a particularly vibrant painting of abstract art, and your heart swells just a little bit more.)
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ii. "hi." (laurel is the colour of the grass that you lay on with me, gazing up at the same sky together.)
There was a time during Minghao's first year of college where a friend of his𑁋Lee Jihoon is his name𑁋called him crazy and bonkers for spending majority of his day outdoors rather than inside. Obviously, Minghao didn't exactly care, nor was it insulting in the slightest knowing Jihoon's stubbornness and tendency to stay holed up in his room buried under piles of music textbooks.
But he would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the outdoors more than anything else, like from the way the sun kisses upon his skin, the gentle breeze that caresses his face, and the colours of nature that found him at his lowest times. Minghao thinks that's how he got into painting and art in the first place, though he didn't dwell on it too much. It all just came natural to him. He likes to think it that way𑁋that it found him instead.
The scenery of the campus is his oasis. He can do his own thing while others are walking through their own lives. He can sit outside for as long as he wants until dusk settles in and paints the sky with hues of orange and pink, or until the stars twinkle above and remind him that he's just an utter speck in the universe.
Today is no different.
Minghao finds himself sprawled out on the grass near the art building, sketchbook propped up against his bent knees, brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to capture the way the afternoon sunlight filters through the leaves of a nearby tree in his line of sight.
A low breeze runs through the air, stirring a few strands of hair across his forehead. He brushes them back absentmindedly, just as a sound cracks into the quietness.
"Hi!"
Minghao shoots his eyes up, slightly startled from the unexpected greeting. He catches sight of you slowly approaching up to him, a hesitant smile gracing your lips as you stop a few feet away.
"Hi," he replies, voice soft as he notices the way you're fiddling with something behind your back. "Vending machine did its ol' thing again?"
"Can you always read my mind?" You murmur, teasing annoyance biting at your words, but you can't contain the smile to your face either way. Maybe he can read your mind, but he's just skimming over it instead. "I can take it if you prefer to die from dehydration."
Minghao chuckles lightly. He glances down at the water bottle in your hand, then back at you, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. There's a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes, but also a hint of something𑁋maybe surprise, mischief, or perhaps a touch of shyness.
(You don't catch the way he subconsciously pushes the other water bottle he had stashed earlier deeper into his backpack.)
"Thanks." He accepts the water bottle from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a second, and takes a quick sip to cool his slightly parched throat.
Then he sets the water bottle down beside him, patting the grass next to him invitingly.
Without a word, you take a deep breath and lower yourself down onto the grass next to him. You catch the scent of the fresh paint lingering on his clothes and blending with the earthy aroma of the grass beneath you. The sunlight catches on the side of his face, highlighting some strands of hair flying in the breeze and the silver earrings reflecting in his ears.
There's a small groan that leaves you when you get yourself to lay fully down on the grass, using your backpack as a makeshift pillow. Minghao just peers in your direction curiously, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watches you settle in.
"You know," You sigh, letting out a contented breath as you spread your arms out a little, fixing your eyes up towards the sky. "This is actually really nice, hanging outside and all, but I am so out of shape. You pick the worst spots."
Minghao's smile widens a fraction at your words. He shifts his own gaze to the sky, observing as the clouds drift lazily overhead, fingertips kneading at the laurel-coloured grass below. The soft yet vibrant green reminds him of a new set of paints he recently bought.
"I think you'll survive lying on a patch of grass, Y/N."
"Not if I get up and there's a goddamn earthworm crawling in my ear, Hao."
"Just don't fall asleep, and you'll live."
You let out a giggle, though you wouldn't be lying if you said that the warmth hitting your body was making you feel just the tiniest bit of drowsy. "No promises there."
The silence that lingers between you and Minghao isn't uncomfortable, but it's not exactly filled with chatter either. It's a comfortable silence, with the distant sounds of other students laughing like white noise and the occasional rustle of a breeze flying past your ears.
It's always like this when you're here together, a quiet that feels more familiar than the few months you've known him. Whether it's your little study sessions at the library, or when you hang out with him after hours in his painting class, it's familiar being around him. The thought settles around you like a well-worn blanket, a comfort you didn't know you craved until you found it here.
You glance over back at Minghao, who seems to be focused back on his sketchbook. He taps his pencil against his bottom lip in concentration. There's a small smudge of charcoal on his nose that you pinpoint, just hardly noticeable, but it makes you want to reach out and brush it away with your thumb.
The bold thought makes your stomach churn.
"Lay down with me, Hao."
The words leave you before you can stop them, surprising even yourself. A blush creeps up your neck, warming your cheeks as you continue watching Minghao. He's still focused on his sketchbook, but the tapping of his pencil against his lip has ceased. He looks down at you, eyes widening slightly in surprise before softening into a gentle smile.
"Lay down?" he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"Y-Yeah," You stammer, suddenly wishing you'd phrased it differently. "I mean, if you want. The sky looks better from here, you know?"
Minghao just tilts his head to the side as if in contemplation, before closing his sketchbook and shifting his position. He tosses his backpack right next to yours, laying himself down on the grass and stretching his body in relief. The grass crinkles softly beneath him, his arm briefly brushing against yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body as he settles in, peering up at the sky with you.
He's painted the sky many times, but for some reason, it feels different looking at it right now, and he isn't entirely sure why.
"What's the weirdest colour you've painted with?"
The sudden question makes Minghao sit up slightly, leaning on his elbow to face you better. The corners of his lips are pulled up in the hint of a smirk.
"Goose turd green."
His eyes detail the way your face contorts in slight disgust, before nothing but laughter tumbles out of you, and Minghao thinks he'd never get tired of hearing that sound.
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iii. "hi." (vermilion is the colour that seeps through my cheeks when the alcohol beats me and i think about you.)
"Y/N𑁋jeez, how much did they drink tonight?"
"I don't even know𑁋woah, hey! Hold them steady, wait..."
"I'll take them back to their place," Minghao tells the other two boys struggling to keep you from falling over in their hold.
Mingyu and Seokmin stare at him for a second, exchanging a glance with each other before guiding you into Minghao's hold carefully. Minghao secures an arm around your waist, loosely at first, before tightening instantly because you're just about to fall out of his grip. He bids the other guys goodbye, then sets off with you towards your dorm.
"Are you alright?" he asks, even though he knows the answer already. "I told you before that you should know your limits."
You giggle, a wobbly, off-key sound. "Oh, I feel peachy, thank you so much."
Minghao just sighs, shaking his head slightly as he adjusts his hold on you, making sure you're steady on your feet.
The walk back to your dorm is painfully slow. Streetlights cast an orange glow on the sidewalk, painting long shadows that seem to dance alongside you. You lean heavily against Minghao, head hanging down to the ground, your footsteps unsteady. The world seems to tilt and sway with every giggle that escapes you.
Your vision is a bit blurry when your dorm comes into sight. Relief washes over you, and you lean even heavier into Minghao, practically melting into him by the time you reach your door and it swings open.
He steps you inside, moving you past the shoe rack by the entrance and towards your bed, and you flop down on the plush mattress with a low groan, nearly dragging down Minghao on top of you.
He catches himself just in time, a hand landing on the mattress beside you with a soft thud, and suddenly he's hovering above you, his breath catching with the sudden closeness of his body pressed up against yours. However, it just makes a laugh bubble out of your throat from deep within your chest, and with half-lidded eyes, you find yourself staring dazedly up at him.
"Wow, hiiii, you're like..." You drawl your words and tap aimlessly at his shoulder. "You're like... so pretty, you know? Have I told you that before?"
Heat creeps up Minghao's neck. He blinks down at you, eyes trailing over your face and cheeks which were stained a soft shade of vermilion from all the alcohol earlier. A small, surprised airy laugh escapes his lips.
He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. And even after pulling away from you, you continue, voice thick with inebriation.
"And your smile? Oh, don't even get me started," You slur, a goofy grin plastered on your face. "Those big, cute eyes you have? They, like, make the whole world look... sparkly."
"Y/N, you need𑁋"
"And whenev... whenever you paint," You continue, voice trailing off away. The world seems to be spinning a little slower now, the grin to your face faltering for a moment, replaced by a furrowed brow as you try to focus on the thought. "Yeah, whenever you paint... you get this... this really focused look on your face. Like the world fades away and all that's left is the canvas. It's kind of... hot."
Minghao could simply only stare at you. He knows he should probably get you settled into bed and leave, but his feet seem rooted to the floor below. His gaze flickers up and down your face, then back up to your eyes, searching for any sign of what you just said being a joke. But all he sees is a genuine, albeit slightly hazy and inebriated, fondness.
"You think so?" he finally manages to ask.
"Yeah," You mumble knowingly as if instinctive, eyelids drooping closed a little further. "Makes you look, uh... determined. Like you could𑁋like you could paint the stars out of the sky or something."
Minghao cowers his head down for a second, before looking back up at you, crossing his arms together bemusedly. "Do you want me to paint the stars for you?"
You give a dreamy nod. In your cloudy mind, the idea sounds incredibly romantic, like something out of a dream.
"I think..." You start once again. "that would really make me like you even more."
Minghao feels his lips twitch, somewhat hopeful yet also reluctant, before letting out another sigh.
"You need to go to bed." He walks back over and helps pull the covers over you. "I'll leave you some water and meds to take in the morning, okay?"
A pang of disappointment shoots through you as he pulls away, a sleepy pout crossing over your features. You watch him with heavy eyelids, the room tilting ever so slightly with each passing beat of your heart.
"Wait," You murmur, grabbing weakly at his sleeve.
Minghao turns back around. You're looking at him, eyes a little more focused now, a hint of a playful smile on your lips, and shooting him a look that means business.
"Don't forget the stars, okay, mister?"
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iv. "hi." (pewter is the colour of the clouds when the earth can't hold it in much longer, and the words burst all at once.)
It hits you on a random Wednesday near the end of the month during an exam on English Romanticism that you simply can't stand this anymore.
You're avoiding Minghao, purposely attending more study sessions that your classmates offer and taking up more shifts at the small café across from campus that you applied for a while ago to make some extra bucks. You know you're avoiding him, and he probably knows it too, and it's all your fault𑁋you're letting him get away and slip through the cracks between your fingers.
Minghao's art had been selected for a prestigious exhibition out of town, and he was set to leave at the end of the month for this internship just as summer is starting, and the thought of him being gone brings a hollow ache to your chest. It's becoming unbearable each passing day, each millisecond that passes knowing you've been so stupidly immature to push him away when he's quite literally been the best thing that has happened to you.
You may never understand how Xu Minghao𑁋this sophisticated, well-mannered, and endlessly talented artist𑁋had managed to wriggle his way into your heart so effortlessly, but there he was, occupying every crevice and corner with his gentle smiles and soft laughter that seem to flip the world over. He was just this sentient, living breathing form of peace that you can’t seem to let go of.
When another boom of thunder shatters outside, you think, screw this.
Screw avoiding him. This wasn't how this story was supposed to end.
You're quick to shove your belongings back in your bag the moment your class ends. The rain has calmed down a little when you step outside, which only seems to fuel the determination within you.
With a deep breath, you pull your jacket tighter against your body, and start to spring across campus. The rain might be getting heavier with each passing minute, but you don't care. All you care about is getting to Minghao before the storm within you bursts too.
Reaching his dorm building, you're merely a shivering mess, hair damp and plastered to your forehead and clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. You barely have the breath to push open the heavy doors, collapsing against them for a moment to catch your breath.
But just as you're about to push open the door, a figure blocks your way, and you peer up to see Minghao standing in front of you. There's an umbrella clutched in his hand, and a puzzled look etches across his features when he takes sight of your disheveled appearance in front of him. You could only gaze at him.
"Hi," You say breathlessly, as if you've been holding on to the singular word for dear life.
Minghao just blinks a few times, unsure if he's looking at you as if you were crazy or if he's just imagining you.
"Hi," he finally responds, voice all gentle and slightly hesitant.
You glance down at the umbrella in his hand. "Are you going somewhere?"
Minghao opens his mouth to respond, also looking down at the umbrella in his hands as if magically appeared there out of thin air, then a bashful look crosses his face.
"I forgot some supplies back in class, so I thought I'd grab them before the storm gets any worse," he explains somewhat lamely, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I𑁋Are you... are you okay?"
You give a loose nod, then shake your head dismissively right afterwards. Gosh, you're losing it.
Minghao clears his throat. "What are you doing out here in the rain? You're going to get sick𑁋"
"You know I-I like you, right?" The words stumble clumsily over your tongue, shattering whatever fragile tension was building up between you two. "And you probably knew that already, to be honest, because you always seem to know me better than I know myself. But the thought of you leaving just... scared me, and I panicked and pushed you away."
A lump forms in your throat. Minghao's expression is practically unreadable in front of you. There's a mix of surprise, a hint of something that could be hurt, and something else you can't exactly decipher.
You let out a dry chuckle, embarrassment crawling up your face but you try to ignore it as much as you can.
"I-I know I sound crazy right now," You say, forcing a smile that seems more like a grimace. "But I... I couldn't let you leave without knowing how I feel. So yeah. I like you. A lot. Maybe more than that. I don't know. It sort of scares me, honestly."
You wait a few moments, simply standing there in the falling rain while anticipating just anything from the boy standing in front of you as if the world had come to a pause. His silence stretches suffocatingly long, nothing but a cloud swirling in those beautiful eyes of his.
Then he looks down at the umbrella in his hand for a moment, then back at you, his gaze lingering on your soaked clothes and shivering form. And just before you can spiral into a wave of panic, Minghao steps forward close to you. Without a word, he unfurls the umbrella and holds it over your head, tilting it slightly to ensure you're fully covered from the rain.
"Let's get you out of this rain," he says finally, low and calm. "You're freezing."
"I..." You start, then stop, giving a muted nod. "Okay."
Minghao leads you back inside his dorm building and up to his room, the warmth seeping overwhelmingly into your bones. He ushers you into his space, the door swinging shut with a soft click behind you.
You've been inside Minghao's room before, but it feels different now, more intimate somehow. The air hangs heavy as you awkwardly perch yourself on the edge of his bed, careful not to let the water dripping off you land on his sheets, and you watch as he quietly makes his way to his closet and disappears behind the hanging clothes. A moment later, he emerges with a soft, oversized hoodie and a towel in hand.
"Here." He holds out the towel and hoodie towards you. "Dry yourself off and change out of those clothes."
The softness of the towel against your skin is the equivalent to luxury as you meticulously pat down your hair and face. You shoot glances at Minghao across the room, seeing him busy himself at his desk, back turned to you, a low hum escaping his lips.
You slip on the oversized hoodie, the familiar scent of Minghao washing over you and instantly relaxing your jittery nerves. The sleeves hang past your fingertips, the material engulfing you in a comforting warmth.
"Feeling a little better?" Minghao asks, turning around to face you after a few minutes. You hardly notice the way his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on the way the hoodie basically swallows you.
A shy, self-conscious look crosses your features. "Yeah, um... Thanks."
Minghao returns the smile, though there's a hint of something else in his eyes𑁋perhaps relief or maybe even a touch of fondness. "Always."
That particular silence passes again as you both sit in his room, the only sound the soft patter of rain against the window. You fidget nervously with the sleeves of his hoodie.
Then, you let out a sigh. "Look, Hao𑁋"
"Do you want anything to drink?"
The offer zips your mouth back up, leaving your unfinished words hanging in the air. Is he... trying to brush away everything that has just happened in the last fifteen minutes? All just like that? You nearly want to scoff at the thought, but you bite at your bottom lip instead, a pang of disappointment settling in your chest.
"Honestly?" You lay your hands flat on your lap. "I'd kill for a hot chocolate right now."
Minghao just chuckles softly. "Okay," Then another long, considerable pause. "Are you working at the café later on?"
The thought of working right now makes you cringe internally. "No, thank goodness. My shift actually got swapped with someone else. Lucky break, I guess."
The corners of Minghao's mouth lift up subtly. He glances back out the window, seeing that the rain had become much lighter and cleared up significantly, revealing the sky in a palette of muted greys. His gaze returns to you, a thoughtful expression painting his features.
"Let's go then," he asserts firmly, rising up to his feet.
You raise an eyebrow at him. "What? Right now? To the café?"
"Mhm."
"But you can't𑁋we can't just𑁋"
"It's a date," Minghao affirms, cutting your words off promptly. "My treat."
His words catch you off-guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. Your mouth hangs down to the ground, warmth crawling up the cheeks just like the hot chocolate you desperately crave right now. You can feel your heart pounding furiously out of your chest and whatever tension coiling in your stomach dissipating away.
"A... date?" You squeak out, voice coming out small and weak.
Minghao's lips purse together in a thin line. "Unless you have other plans𑁋"
"Oh no, no, no," You blurt out, finding yourself already breathless for no reason at all, struggling to keep the giddy grin forming on your face at bay. "A date sounds perfect, actually."
Relief floods over Minghao's features. He lets out a little giggle, the kind that always makes your insides do a little happy flip.
"Good," he responds simply. "I'm glad."
"Do I get to pay next time?" You ask teasingly as you stand up. "If there is a next time, at least."
Nothing but amusement dances in his eyes.
"We'll see about that."
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v. "hi." (calamine is the colour staining your cheeks and your lips against my ear.)
Minghao's lips are on yours before you have the opportunity to breathe in the air of relief of the hotel room.
It's not hard for your body to melt into him instinctively, the kiss soft yet desperate, tender yet urgent. You find your fingers kneading at the silky material of the suit that he wore, and his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Both of your feet move in mere unison together before you feel the edge of the bed nudge the back of your knee.
When the two of you pull back for a minute to breathe, all you can do is faintly chuckle.
"You act like you haven't seen me in years," You tease, letting a hand come to toy with his tie. "Did you miss me that much?"
Minghao's gaze only flickers between your eyes, your lips, and down the outfit that seems to hug your body just perfectly, before settling back up to your face. His own face is close enough to yours that you swear you could pinpoint the flecks of stardust in his irises. He's simply staring at you with nothing but adoration, his gaze so intense like he's trying to memorise every little detail etched on your face, even if he's already done so many times. He's painted stars on your skin with his fingertips, lips, whispered words, and his heart.
And then he's kissing you again, more softly and slower this time, the weight of his body following your own as you fall back down on the bed behind.
Missing you is more than just an understatement. Being separated from you felt like this physical piece of him was missing from his chest. His art had been reaching the rightful hands of museums abroad just as he deserves, and you had gotten used to him travelling for days on end to attend exhibitions and workshops.
You jumped on the first opportunity to be able to visit him. And now, with you in his arms and your lips pressed against his, Minghao feels like he's finally whole again.
His mouth pulls away from the sweet spot to your neck, trailing a soft path back up to your lips, giving you a small kiss before pulling back to look at you. You hear the way his breath hitches in his throat, the feeling of his hand coming to interlock with yours at your side, the metal of the ring on his finger meeting your skin.
You peer up at him longingly, lovingly, a tiny smile playing at the corners of your lips.
"Hi," You whisper, a breathless laugh escaping you.
Minghao's gaze softens even further, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand as he leans back down.
"Hi, dearest," he murmurs back affectionately, adjusting himself so that his mouth is near your ear, barely grazing against the shell as he whispers, "You're beautiful."
You could only giggle as he retreats himself away slightly, but you tug him by the tie again to bring him back down. "Yeah? What else?"
There's a thoughtful look that crosses over his features, his cheeks painted an ethereal shade of calamine pink, mirroring the flush of warmth that spreads across your own face. You've always grown accustomed to Minghao's fairly quiet nature, however it doesn't take much to read over even the most imperceptible shifts in his expressions. Whenever words seem to be too shy or hesitant to come out, the stars in his eyes speak for him.
Minghao just lowers himself even more, the ghost of his lips hardly brushing back against yours.
"I love you."
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.
Content: Violence, Previous Injury (mentioned), Panic Attack (non-descriptive)
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Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.
Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.
Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.
Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.
He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.
Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…
It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.
That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).
So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.
But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.
Johnny’s solution?
“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”
Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.
Mission: accomplished.
Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.
“Luv?”
You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.
“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.
“A word?”
You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.
Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.
Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.
“Sweetheart?”
You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.
“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”
Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.
There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.
And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.
When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.
Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.
“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”
It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.
“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”
There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.
“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”
You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.
“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”
The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—
“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”
You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.
“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”
“But…”
“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”
“Y-you’re not?” you warble.
“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”
“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.
He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”
He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.
“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn��t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”
You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.
“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”
It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.
“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”
He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.
“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”
You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.
“Kyle.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Look into that knob from the lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”
“You’ve got it.”
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marimoscorner · 23 days
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Consumerism & Witchcraft
Written by Marimo (he/they)🌿
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I’ve seen a turn for the better in some witchy spaces regarding consumerism in the past few years, but overall it still tends to be an issue for us as a community. I’ve decided to try and breakdown the pitfalls I’ve noticed in my own journey, in the hopes that it will inspire and assist others. I’ve also provided alternatives and ideas on how to make small changes in our practice to help us better protect the Earth, stick it to the failing system and still acquire our bits and bobs we love so dearly.
As always, I am no authority on any subject nor am I perfect—but we’re all learning as we go, so let’s dive right in 🌿
A Preface
There are some things that should be made entirely clear before we begin:
You are not a bad person for wanting an aesthetic
You are not a bad person for unknowingly falling into pitfalls. Only if you continue to purposefully do so after knowing better
You are not a bad person for consuming content/objects or for not always making the most sustainable decisions. At the end of the day, we can only control our small part of environmental impact, while the rest is left up to the major corporations that make more pollution than any of us ever will
You are only human. Show yourself some grace and understanding that the internet so lacks.
My Experience in Consumerist Hell
I have fallen victim many times to consumerism in witchcraft. Starting my journey at the ripe age of about ten years old and heavily in the broom closet, I was quickly drawn in by the shiny rocks, the brand new candles and scents, the promise of new tarot decks and pendulums and other fancy, shiny new equipment. I was consuming an online aesthetic along with my ideals, and it distracted me from starting my journey by learning well.
I began to spend my birthday and holiday money on the aesthetic of things. While, granted, I still did buy a few literary resources now and again from my local secondhand bookstore—I was stubbornly ignoring the sage advice to learn and understand first before diving in headfirst.
I purchased statues, crystals, too many tarot decks to use. I purchased osteomancy bones I later returned to the earth, for I had not done enough research to know that that animal was mine to practice with. I had a tankard full of incense sticks, and even a growing pile of books that would not be read. While I liked to consider myself crafty with my homemade Maypole and various hand-bound Grimoires, something was becoming apparent: this was all a distraction.
The aesthetic I was partaking in was providing me with a false sense of progress and practicality.
When I’d go to do a tarot reading, I’d become far too overwhelmed with choosing a deck to read in the first place. When making an offering to a deity, I’d feel pressured to also bolster the altars of all the other deities I’d set up, and with my wide pool, the connections felt muddy. Often times I’d be off-put on a project or spell because I knew I needed to film it and it needed to look nice.
In the long term, I don’t have many of these items today. I’ve sold and donated a vast breadth of them. Feeling overwhelmed costed me a few years retreat from my craft to recuperate. However, what has stuck with me is the knowledge I picked up along the way.
So, What’s the Issue? TL;DR
I’ve noticed a few issues here in making these mistakes myself.
Consumerism absolutely distracts you from learning and your craft
Overconsumption leads to environmental damage. If everyone hoarded supplies, there would not be enough to go around. And with what gets thrown away every year…it paints an ugly wound on the Earth
We damage our learning abilities by not allowing ourselves to be anything less than perfect
The need for aesthetic creates barriers to entry within the community and creates a divide of haves and have-nots
You won’t be able to truly follow your individual path if you are only consuming and not creating for yourself
Consumerist culture promotes appropriation. Metaphysical stores carry items from closed practices (such as white sage and palo santo, or coyote bones) because someone is buying them. Don’t be that person, and find alternatives relating to your own culture instead
Consumerism can influence your spiritual decisions based upon monetary inclinations (where some may sacrifice a quality ingredient over a higher quantity of a lower quality ingredient)
So, what can we do?
Firstly, I want to clarify that I am not against collecting, nor am I against maximalism or the beautiful visual aesthetic we carry as a community.
I am an artist a very visual person and understand the longing for a beautiful home and workspace. However, this aesthetic shouldn’t come at the cost of irresponsibly harming the Earth or another community.
Thus, I’ve compiled a list of small things that I will be incorporating into my practice to make it more mindful and sustainable. I hope that you’ll join me in a few of them.
Minimize Supplies. While I used to have a huge selection of stationary for my Grimoire, I now limit myself to a simple pencil and watercolor set if I’m feeling artistic. This helps me actually use my Grimoire for study, rather than to keep perfect. It’s also friendlier on my wallet!
Thrift Supplies. There are plenty of perfectly good items that get donated daily. You can get high-quality candles and holders, old crystal bowls for altar offerings, spare crafting supplies, fabric for alter cloths and even clothing if you so wish—all for a fraction of the cost new and while saving the planet just a little bit more. Hell, you can sometimes even find good silver!
Share Supplies with your Community. You can create a sort of barter system with other witches in your area. Perhaps you create a sigil for them, and they provide you with a candle spell. Play to your strengths and grow together!
Look for Creative Outlets. Do you really need to go buy an altar statue that’s been mass-produced? Or can you give your deity the personal gift of a drawing, painting or even hand-modeled or hand-carved rendition? This will also deepen your connection to your craft and your magic, and make it more meaningful and stronger. If you really like something, though, go for it!
If you aren’t the artistic sort, consider supporting an artist before going to a large company. While I haven’t purchased from them myself, Blagowood on Etsy has beautiful deity statues carved from wood by their small team in Ukraine for a comparable cost to the standard mass produced metal statues. I consider this extra labor of love going into these pieces and those of similar small companies to be much better energy for my practice. I myself may put out some art prints and other handmade supplies in the future, but I will likely spread them around my community first.
Try Secondhand Books. While not available in every area and further still not as available for witchcraft and occult books, you may strike luck! Not only are secondhand books less expensive, but you’ll be supporting a local business. That’s not to say you can’t buy firsthand books, but some searching around may be beneficial to the earth and to your wallet in the long run.
Be mindful of where you source supplies and decor. If you are a fan of taxidermy decor, make sure that you source cruelty free. Bats can practically never be sourced without cruelty, so if a shop carries them, I’d be mindful of their other specimens. The same goes for if a shop decides to forgo a culture’s wishes and carry supplies sacred to them, such as white sage or dreamcatchers. Supporting folks who turn a profit off of others’ suffering is not something many would wish to include energetically in their craft.
Search the Wild for Tools. Find sticks, flowers and other plants out in the forest. Learn how to rockhound in your area for crystals. Your craft will be more powerful the more connected it is to the land you are surrounded by. Be sure to reference guides for safety and legality!
Get Creative with Purposes. If you are having difficulty finding exactly what you need by thrifting or searching, make another tool multipurpose if it would do the job good enough. Find supplies that are easy to source and work as substitutes for other ingredients (ex. Quartz as a stand in for other stones)
Spend more time Doing. Go out into the woods (safely) and advance your connection to the earth instead of worrying over the perfect item for your collection. Your craft will benefit
At the end of the day, all of this is your decision. Take what you like, and leave what you don’t. Even if we don’t agree, I thank you for your time and open mind. I will continue updating about how I incorporate these steps, and I will also hopefully post more on witchy crafting in the future.
I wish you well, and hope you’ll decide to follow along on our journey!
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month
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dk why but im thinkin about shoto w a sweet tooth who follows you and hangs around the kitchen waiting for the cookies you made to finish baking while staring at the oven like a kid, soooooo.. (shoto might be a bit ooc, slight super small pinch of angst but super fluffy as usual ! gn reader, mentions of food, lemme know if i missed sum else ! <3)
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"sho.." shoto hums in response, eyes fixed on the oven.
"the cookies aren't gonna bake faster if you stare at 'em."
you hold back a giggle when he slowly turns to look up at you from where he's crouched down on the floor. his eyes that were practically pasted to the oven widening the slightest bit like he'd been caught doing something bad. he blinks at you, then swiftly looks away.
"i'm just checking to make sure they don't burn." he explains. you don't know if you've seen him blink more than four times the entire time you've been staring at him staring at the chocolate chip marshmallow cookies you made together. (together meaning with him watching you most of the time and occasionally mixing. as much as you love your boyfriend, he should absolutely not be trusted around food.)
"that's what we have the timer for." you quip, leaning against the kitchen cupboard and crossing your arm with a smirk.
he looks up at you, then fixes the kitchen timer sitting on the stove with a little frown that you recognize as a pout, you huff out a light laugh at his cute expression. from his miniscule facial expressions you can see he's a little embarrassed at the fact you'd outsmarted him. he turns to look at the cookies again.
"i can see when they're done baking better from here. faster than the timer can."
"oh yeah ?"
he nods "very clearly."
you snort. after looking at him for a while longer you sigh to get his attention. it works immediately and he looks up at you, eyes occasionaly trailing back to the oven towards the cookies as he waits to hear what you want.
you wordlessly spread your arms out, batting your eyelashes at him. he blinks, then a small smile grows on his handsome face in realization. he slowly walks over to you before pulling you into a comfortable hug, he huffs out a chuckle when you squeeze his waist.
shoto buries his head into your shoulder, right into the crook of your neck, and breathes you in. he’s had a habit of doing that often—if not every time you hug—and you don’t really know why he does, but you definitely don’t mind.
"you could've just told me that you wanted to try the cookies first." you tease, giggling when he huffs against your shoulder. he turns his head to speak against your neck.
"that wasn't my intention." he mumbles weakly, nosing at your neck when you scoff out a laugh.
"right. that's why you were practically glued to the oven mere seconds ago."
"i did no such thing."
"don't lie !" you reprimand, tugging at his hair lightly in joking punishment "you're not getting any cookies if you do." you hear him huff and feel a slight smirk growing against you.
"i..may have been surveying them rather closely—"
"very closely."
"—but it was simply to check." he finishes, ignoring your comment. shoto noses at your shoulder and sighs "i felt like even though you wanted to make the cookies together, i was barely able to help you with anything.." he trails off. your eyebrows furrow, and you try pull shoto out of the nest he's made for himself inside your shoulder, but shoto could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to be. his arms tighten around your waist and he his hair tickles against your cheek when he tries to shove his head inside your shoulder somehow.
you sigh, giving up your attempts to get him to look at you and simply settle on running your fingers through his hair, soothing him as he sighs contently. "sho, you helped me out lots. you always took over for me when i didn't feel like mixing anymore and helped me out with those big strong arms of yours." you feel him smile against you and your smile grows mirroring his.
" but i really wanted to help you out more, i know i'm not really good at this.." he mutters sadly, a frown grows on his face and you feel the corners of your mouth turn down as well.
"but you're real good at a lot of other things ! i'm not great at everything either." you reason, absentmindeldly twirling a strand of his hair around your finger "but i could teach you some tips and tricks, if you want."
he looks up at you at that, the smile growing on his face makes your heart race. "really ? i might be a little hard to manage." he jests, running his hands up and down your sides. his eyes brighten the more he looks at you and you're 100% sure you mirror his expression when you throw him a smug smirk.
"don't you underestimate me, mr todoroki ! you're nothing compared to what i've dealt with before."
"oh ?" he hums, lifting a brow. you nod and his smiles grows " and what, if i may ask, have you dealt with before ?" he challenges.
"that is classified information that i cannot disclose. you're just gonna have to trust me." you shoot back and press your finger to his lips, snickering when his eyes widen a fraction before he looks down at you playfully. he takes hold of your hand and presses a kiss to each of your fingertips, making fireworks go off inside your stomach.
"well then," he presses a final lingering kiss to the back of your hand with a run of his thumb against your skin. his eyes glow with mischief when he looks at you.
"i'm in your care."
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Could I request an Astarion/GN!reader(Tav) where reader has trauma around their throat being touched and stuff but bears through the panic attacks just so Astarion can feed and Astarion only finds out after they make camp and confronts reader/Tav about their mental breakdown after a battle they had prior in the day?(reader got grabbed forcefully by the neck?) Essentially a bit of angst and comfort?
Set in act 2!!
TW - choking, panic attack, disordered eating behaviors
Recommended Song: Don't Invest In Me - Adam Melchor
Battle is horrifying, something Astarion never truly quite realized until he fell in love you with. He's talented, especially at killing people. He's never had to worry in a fight, because it was always just him. Now he has to worry about you, and it's painful, not being able to be by your side constantly, watching you in perilous situations, looking death right in the eye. When your group ran into a few violent adventurers yesterday, you weren't expecting any trouble. Suddenly, metal clashing, magic moving through the trees. Astarion moved quickly, offing one of the offenders almost immediately. When he turned to see who was next, bloodlust in his eyes, he saw you being held by the throat. You were frozen, running out of oxygen, tears welling at your eyes. He ran through the trees, running his blade through your captor's back.
"Tav? My dear, are you alright?"
You can't speak, utterly shocked. No one had ever tried to choke you in the throes of battle, and it reminded you of awful things, things that were better left unsaid. He checks you for any other wounds as you're trapped in your own mind. The fighting continues, but he doesn't care. All that matters is you, the others can handle themselves just fine. And if not, that's their loss, not his.
After thoroughly checking you over, he can't find anything else of concern. The bruising on your neck though, it's black and blue already. Racing thoughts, wondering if there's been any lasting damage. He can't decide if he should be more concerned about the fact that you're practically frozen in place or if your windpipe is destroyed.
"The fuck are you doing? We have shit to deal with!"
Karlach silences her complaints when she sees you lying on the ground. Astarion doesn't even look up at her, afraid. He's only ever truly had one thing, one thing that was his, and that's you. Everything else feels so impermanent, but you? You're constant.
"Astarion! Astarion!"
She yells out his name until he finally snaps back to look at your tiefling friend.
"Take Tav back to camp, we've got it covered."
Karlach then runs off, back to assist Wyll with a shadow-covered half-elf. You groan in pain, your neck on fire. As you start to come back to reality, you realize you're in the vampire's arms, a vampire currently moving through the dark as quickly as possible. Neither of you have lights on you, but he knows there are still torches lit at camp, he just has to get there before the shadow curse starts to take hold. You're light-headed, both from lack of oxygen and the panic attack.
"Where...?"
"Hush darling, it's alright. We're almost there, almost to camp."
Through a couple more feet of trees, the two of you make it, bathing in the warm light of the torches posted behind the brush. He takes you back to your tent, where your bedrolls lie side by side. He silently curses himself for not knowing any healing magic, promising himself he'll finally learn after this.
"Aster?"
You call out groggily.
"Yes my love, I'm right here."
Ceasing the nervous pacing, he sits by your side.
"What... what happened?"
He almost doesn't want to say, worried about how you reacted while it was happening.
"One of the shadow-cursed, they... they had you in a nasty chokehold, and I killed them."
You shift, wishing he didn't have to know about all of this.
"Sorry."
"About what darling? You've done nothing wrong."
"About not telling you- not telling you about it."
You're gasping to get your words out, your throat clearly damaged. He furrows his brow in concerned confusion.
"I- I really don't like people touching my neck, doing anything to it to be honest. Wasn't expecting one of them to grab me like that."
Coughing at the end of your sentence, you don't see Astarion's eyes travel through his thoughts, realizing what that means.
"Darling... you let me feed off of you almost every evening."
You smile a little.
"I know."
He grabs one of your hands, clasping it in both of his.
"I'll never do it again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
Frantic, worried he's done something irreversibly wrong.
"No, no Aster it's okay. Does it suck sometimes? Yeah, but I need you to be healthy. Besides, what's a better way to work through your trauma than exposure therapy?"
"That's not fair. I can find something else, some other way."
"And what, go back to forest animals? You know there's nothing for you out here, in the darkness."
"Then I'll simply starve! Done it before, I'll do it again."
Gods, he's stubborn. You don't blame him, he would never want to cross anyone's boundaries after his have been trampled a million times.
"My love, come here."
You reach out, beckoning to pull him down beside you.
"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't. You need to feed, and I can provide that. You do plenty for me, let me do this one thing for you."
"But, but you hate it."
"Yeah. Those two things can coexist, my hate for people touching my neck, and my love for you. I can put up with the anxiety if it means you're okay."
"I would be okay though."
You cup his face in your hand, making sure he's looking at you.
"I'm telling you I'm okay, and that you deserve more than rats. Okay?"
You've been around him long enough, you know his logic. If he survived for two hundred years living off of flies and rats, he certainly doesn't need blood like yours. If he had starved for an entire year, he could take a few months before getting to Baldur's Gate. Sometimes you have to remind him that survival mode isn't living, that he's allowed to have nice things. Tears fall from his eyes.
"Are you sure my sweet? Absolutely certain?"
"Of course, and if I ever needed you to stop I would tell you, promise."
You put your pinky out, and he stares at it.
"What... what are you doing? Is this you offering me to feed off a singular finger? Because if so, that's uh-"
"No, gods! It's a pinky promise."
"A... a what?"
You start laughing, so hard that you start coughing again, tears falling down your face.
"You've never heard of a pinky promise?"
It pulls at your heart a little, realizing he probably never had anyone teach him.
"I guess I haven't."
You put your pinky out, and he does the same, and then you hook yours, interlacing the small finger with his.
"There, I pinky promise that I'll tell you if you need to stop feeding on me."
As you pull your hand away, he looks confused.
"And that's what, some non-verbal contract?"
"I guess so Mr. Magistrate."
You start laughing again.
"Okay, you have thoroughly scared me, and made me cry, and teased me, in one night! I'm not sure how much more I can take."
There's a hint of humor in his tone. Honestly, he also thinks it's ridiculous that he was a magistrate, considering he was terrible at it, at least from the small things he remembers.
"Well, it's over now. I'm okay, and we're safe."
He narrows his eyes.
"I'm still going to have Shadowheart look over you when the rest return."
"Well, that's your fault for not learning healing magic."
"Okay, you don't know any magic, so I don't want to hear it!"
The two of you stay up for hours, laughing at stupid jokes, hysterical from the tragedy that evening. Sometimes after something horrible, you just need a good laugh, especially with your easily provoked lover.
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theminecraftbee · 7 months
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Tango makes a terrible, terrible face as he walks into Grian's new creation. Bit rude, he thinks that is, but whatever. Grian waves his arms out, getting ready to show Tango more than he'd shown him when the practice room was still in-progress, when Tango says:
"What did you do to it?"
"Huh?"
Tango shudders. He folds his arms over himself and looks at Jellie the ravager. "What did you do to it. To this place. Why is it... warm?"
"I mean, it's not really warm, see it's all white so it actually doesn't retain heat very well, even with the froglamps, so I had to do some work to make sure the temperature was appropriate for heavy physical activity while not risking frostbite the way the actual dungeon does, and..."
Grian trails off.
"The point is that it's mostly just, I don't know, mild temperature? Unnoticeable temperature? The fact you commented on it is weird."
There's a strangely echoing quality to Tango's voice as he steps back again, against the door to the practice room. "It's clean."
"Yeah. I mean, that's the aesthetic, isn't it? Wiped clean of everything but the ravager, the water, and the drowned. None of the distractions. Good for practicing, you know?" Grian squints. "You should like it. You said you'd like it. Wanted people to be able to practice so they'd do better at the dungeon."
Tango shudders again. "You've wiped clean the ravagers, too. I can't... touch her."
"What?" Grian says, baffled.
"What have you done to this place," Tango says.
"Listen, I won't have you insulting my clean room," Grian says. "I cleaned it of all the dungeon bits. It's nice and easy and white and understandable. I won't have you corrupting it."
Hm. Not sure where that one came from, he realizes. Probably a bad sign. He'd certainly guess as much from Tango, who is staring at him with something akin to horror.
In a voice that echoes like a card readout, Tango says: "You won't do this in the dungeon. You'll feed us what's left from this. Or I'll have to ask you to move it."
Grian rolls his eyes. "Geez, yeah, I won't touch the actual dungeon! I already broke the sound test room, I'm not breaking any really important redstone. Now, do you want to see the drowned dodging room or not?"
"I'm horrified to find out what happened to the drowned, if this is your ravager."
Grian looks between Jellie's blank stare and Tango and throws up his hands. "Nothing! I did nothing to her! I have no idea what you're on about!"
"It's like you bleached their insides," mutters Tango. "Bleached everything. It's not natural."
"Not natural? Like you're one to talk!"
"I need to know. Show me," Tango says.
"Right then. Take off your armor first, I don't want Jellie getting thorned or something, then let's practice some dodging and get in there. Then you'll see this is a perfectly normal set of eerie white rooms and leave me alone, right?"
Tango makes a face.
"I don't know why I bother. Honestly. You'd think I'd done something weird," Grian says, and then neither of them talk much, on account of the ravager trying to chew their faces.
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luvyeni · 2 months
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p. bf!park jisung x fem bodied reader | warnings: mutual masterbation, semi public, p in v | words: 0.6k ~ (623) 🐹ㆍ₊⊹
request: Please make anything with ji or chenle dying over here 😫
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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He was wearing those sinful grey again , the ones that he knew made you all dizzy in the head — and he was proven right when he sat down on the couch and saw your eyes zone right on the sweatpants , gulping as you tried to turn away. “you okay?” he asked , knowing you were fucking losing it on the inside. “good because the guys want to watch a movie with us.”
You wanted to curse , out of all times did it have to be now? Did they have to watch it now? You were slowly loosing it and jisung could see it — your constant shifting , your pretty thighs clenching; he smirked, he loved when you got like this. “you cold?”
“hm?” you could even answer before he was pulling the blanket over your body. “better?” you nodded , he leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips. “ew gross.” haechan moved off the couch , joining the rest of them on the floor , leaving you alone on the couch.
He pulled away, you thought he was gonna straighten back up to finish the movie— but he moved closer to your ear, his breath fanning against your ear, making you shiver. “keep quiet baby.”
You were confused , until you felt his hands creep down in between your thighs. Your eyes widened looking at him , he smiled pushing them open , his hand finding its way into your shorts, cupping your heat. You bit your lip trying to contain your voice as he pulled your panties to the side, pushing a finger in.
Your hand flew to his thigh— making sure the guys weren’t looking; before undoing the string of those god forsaken sweats, slipping your hand into his boxers, where is cock twitched, waiting for you to touch it. “go ahead.” He whispered. “stroke it baby.”
You began to move, trying to match his pace on your cunt. It was risky and at any moment you could be caught, but in the moment both of you didn’t care, desperate to get each other off— both of you wishing both of you were alone so you could be as , loud as you want, especially since you were about to cum. “fu-fuck stop.”
Jisung had to force himself to say, the movie was finally over, neither one of you able to cum. “we should get to bed, we have practice tomorrow.” Everyone agreed, dragging their tired bodies to their respected room, leaving you both. “both of you get some sleep.”
You waited until the last door to barley close before jisung was lifting you into his lap, pulling his sweats down enough. “fuck I need to be inside you.” He pulled your shorts to the side, holding you by the waist as slowly sinking into you, both of you sighing, finally getting the fill you both craved. “sh-shit.”
Both of you were desperate to get off, his head thrown back against the couch as you bounced on his cock, your skin slapping against each other. “fuck, keep bouncing on my dick -shit- im gonna cum.” He groaned, hold your ass in his hands. “of fuck please cum baby.” He let out a whimper like moan, as you clenched around him— he kissed you to conceal his moans as he shot ropes of cum into your cunt.
“shit.” He said, both of you heavily breathing. “fu-fuck, did you have to wear those sweatpants? Get me worked up like that.” He smiled tiredly. “it was hot watching you lose it over a pair of sweats.”
“you think they heard?”
“why do you think they went into their rooms?”
“to sleep?”
“it’s 10:30 and we don’t have practice.”
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©️LUVYENI
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bubblebbg · 11 months
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would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.
This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.
Miguel O'Hara x reader
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To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.
Part 2
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"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"
"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.
When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."
You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"
A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."
"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.
"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.
"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."
"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."
"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."
This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.
"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."
Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"
"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"
He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -
Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"
And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.
"What are you doing?"
You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.
"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."
He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.
This is how it's meant to be.
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Yuus Food Truck
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In which Azul loses his mind over a grilled cheese.
Content stuff: short, one sided enemies to lovers, Azul being a loser, general cringe.
Posting Reqs like this for a bit until Tumblr lets us edit asks. I had a request for Enemies to Lovers with Azul, so I came up with this.
That goddamned Prefect was the bane of Azul's existence. For the past few weeks, he has been gripping his leg in absolute rage within his office as he stares at his weekly reports. Practically frothing at the mouth at the mere mention of you.
Recently, the little Ramshackle prefect has begun a new business venture. A simple food truck on campus selling only grilled cheeses for a singular madol. That's it. He found the idea a bit funny, he'll admit, but he was far from worried.
Surely after a month it would shut down, or at the very least get so few customers it wouldn't impact his business. I mean come on, how much money are you really making from selling grilled cheeses for one dollar? You must be taking a loss!
He was wrong. So so wrong.
Not only have you somehow been profiting from your little side project, but you have taken all of his customers. He is looking over his lounge, nowhere near as full as it usually is. He grits his teeth and heads back into the VIP room. The twins should be here any minute now. 
On cue, the door creaks open, and in come those rowdy twins both with their usual smirks. Azul jerks up, staring up at Jade from his desk. His hand shook ever slightly as he gripped the feather in his hand.
“Well? Did you get it?” The mer asks, gaze steely. Floyd speaks for the both of them through mouthfuls of grilled cheese.
“Mmmhmm yeah, we got you a cheese, here you go. Mmmm.” Floyd took another bite of his as he tossed the wrapped-up grilled cheese onto the desk. 
“Hey watch the merchandise– Are you eating their food?" Azul stared at both of them. Floyd stuffing his face with the one in his hand and Jade elegantly nibbling on his own. He was shocked, betrayed by his own staff. “You guys gave them more money— ugh. I would have expected this of Floyd but you too Jade?”
“The prefect saw me ordering and put some mushrooms into mine that pair well with the cheese. Free of charge as well. How thoughtful of them. I must commend their customer service.” Jade wore a shit-eating smirk on his face as he took another bite, making a show out of it. He seemed to relish in Azul's misery.
“Free of charge?” Azul was flabbergasted. Not only were their prices ridiculously low but they were adding things for free? They might as well be handing their money away at that point.
“Right? I say they should have charged Jade for all he's worth for putting those damn things on. Yuck…” Floyd wrinkled his nose as he side eyed Jade, who just continued to eat blissfully. 
He needed to figure out just what was so good about the damn things. Gloved hands carefully lifted up the wrapped delicacy with such fragility as if it would break from a gust of wind. The wrapping was done well, nice and neat as he peeled it off to reveal what was inside.
Crisped and perfectly brown buttered white bread. It glistened in the light with its heavenly beauty. The cheese was ooey and gooey and so thick that it ran down the sides. So far the presentation was beautiful, but it was pretty damn difficult to fucked up a grilled cheese. He tried to hold back this drool from the smell alone.
Carefully, he took a bite and closed his eyes. His mouth was blasted with flavor. As he savored that magical bite, a gust of wind swept through the room, causing the curtains to dance dramatically. The cheesy aroma lingered, creating an ambiance fit for a culinary masterpiece. This grilled cheese has unlocked secrets of the universe with how much it expanded his mind. This mere sandwich has him on the brink of tears
Azul has to hold his expression. He's not gonna be impressed by some measly sandwich. He's better than that. Though he thought that maybe by tasting it he could be able to figure out what your secret ingredient was, it's clear that isn't the case… This is a simple grilled cheese. He would have to go undercover to discover your cooking secrets.
***
“Heyyy Prefect!” A wry voice hums near the truck, belonging to no other than Ruggie. He knocked on the side of the window and Yuu poked out their head.
Azul watched from the distance, narrowing his eyes as he hyper-focused on the conversation. He admits the front of the Ramshackle dorms was a great location. Close to the botanical garden, close to the main building, not as far as Octavinelle either, and had most of the foot traffic. It's why he had his eye on it for a second location.
“Well if it isn't my number one customer, what can I get ya, let me guess a grilled cheese?” Of course, Ruggie would be their number one customer, which makes sense given his financial state. Figures. Maybe if he introduced a dollar menu…
“You know what Ruggie, you're cool. For you, it's 50 cents. Two for one if you will.” Ruggie pauses for a moment before smiling again. “Awe really? Sweet, can't up a deal like that shyehehehe!” The hyena cackles and you get to work. The window for the truck is fully open, allowing Azul to see in.
You aren't even hiding your cooking technique?! You're just giving all your secrets away like that?! Ohh you foolish fool… This would be easier than he thought.
He must get closer, to see what sort of fuckery is at play here. However, walking up and just watching you cook work is suspicious. As much as he hates to fund this little project… sacrifices must be made… He will have to order a grilled cheese…
Ruggie slinks off, tail wagging happily as he munches on his food. This was the perfect opportunity to approach. He stood up even straighter and approached with determination hidden poorly behind his attempt at a straight face. His scowl dared to seep through but he managed to smooth it out into his sickenly sweet facade.
“Hello, dear prefect!” He watched Yuu perk up through the window as they wiped down their workspace. They glanced over at Azul, completely unaware of his evil plot. “Heya Zuzu what can I get ya?”
Zuzu? That's awfully bold… whatever eyes on the prize… 
“I'd like one grilled cheese please if I may…” Hell yes. Smooth operator. He's so good at this.
“Mkay, coming right up.” Azul leans in closer as you get to work, memorizing everything you do… You just make a grilled cheese… Nothing special. It's just simple bread and cheese you cook in butter. How the hell? Was it the oven perhaps? Did you somehow know of his intentions and we're trying to conceal it?? Ugh, whatever maybe he can sucker you into another deal.
“... You know Prefect, if you just raised the price a bit you'd be bringing in more profits.” 
You shrugged as you pressed down your creation with your spatula to make it sizzle more. “Yeah, I know how money works.” Azul paused and blinked.
“So why don't you do it?” You shrug again. “It's funny.” Azul was perplexed, bamboozled, perhaps even smeckledorfed perchance. You were doing this for fun?! Starting a business for fun. Not for profit which would be beneficial given your situation, but for fun.
“Fun? Really? But prefect– wouldn't you– shouldn't you consider raising the prices even slightly? I mean after all Crowley hasn't been paying you well and if anything—”
“I should shoot you for the mere suggestion of raising the grilled cheese prices. The price is firm. It's never going up even by a cent. Hell, I'm so offended I may lower it.” You pulled the cheese off the grill and started to pack it up, swaddling it with such delicacy and love reserved for newborns.
Azul's mouth hung open for a bit before closing it. “Are you serious? Prefect— Yuu at this point I'm not even mad about the competition I'm– hrk!”  
“You need to relax a little Azul, for your own sake.” You shoved the grilled cheese out the window a bit more forcefully than you intended, making the unwrapped part hit Azul's glasses. The melty butter left grease marks on them, and through the blurriness, he could see your expression. His heart skipped a beat and sucked in a breath. Oh no.
He was in love.
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obey-me-disaster · 10 months
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Hey there! How’s it going? If I may, can I request some headcaons on the obey me brothers trying to seduce MC? Please and thank you!
These guys have to literally take a 'seductive speechcraft' class at RAD, in theory they should be good at seducing, in practice not so much
Warning: slightly NSFW
Obey me brothers trying to seduce MC
Lucifer
He keeps it simple. He doesn't see the point of doing complicated mind games when he knows that MC will choose him. That's not to say he won't try to win MC over or make them feel special.
Between Lucifer encouraging MC to be bolder when it comes to their advances and his confidence there isn't anything that could go wrong, in his mind at least.
He is often assertive in a way that would make MC feel like being swooped off their feet while still leaving room for them to refuse. He will make sure they know he will take care of all of their desires.
He often invites them over, either to his study room or the music room to spend some time alone together where he can be more forward.
Mammon
Mammon is really smooth when it comes to flirting and seducing, just not when it comes to MC.
He is too caught up between being a tsundure and just being genuinely worried about making them uncomfortable by being too forward. Still, after a while he will get over some of his worries, he is MC's first man after all!
He is one of the most sought after models in the entire Devildom, he knows how to use his looks in his favour and how to get people's attention, especially MC's.
With how much time he spends with them, Mammon knows how to make MC feel like they are the only person that matters to him and to make them think about only him.
That also includes what words to say and in what way too touch them. Still, he always leaves it up to MC to decide if they want to take it further. He will let them take control so they could go at their own pace.
Leviathan
Tries to think of it like MC is a love interest in a video game, otherwise he would never be able to do it.
Tries to kabedon MC and it works at first, until he realizes how close the two of them are and panics.
Depending on the MC, his cringefail personality and being borderline pathetic and endearing at the same time would probably do the trick and seduce them imeanitworkedonme
Still, he has his moments where he can be more dominant! Especially if it would be in a virtual world, where he is more in his element. Sure, he would still be nervous but he would actually manage to flirt with MC.
To add to the previous point, he actually did that in a devilgram, where he lowered one of the sits in the car and told MC he could be in charge too.
Also I am sure he has at least 3 slutty cosplays. All he needs is a little bit of courage and he could use them.
Satan
A really by the book approach, the type of thing you would see in books. He has a lot of connections but most of them were not made by seducing other demons.
His attempts would be a bit awkward at first, feeling a little bit too stiff, but after observing to what MC responds the best he will start to get better at it.
Does MC respond better to words? Well he doesn't have high grades in seductive speechcraft for nothing. He knows how to get MC wrapped around his finger. Starting from innocent remarks to comments that would leave MC's imagination run wild.
Do they like physical touches more? He may be a little bit more awkward but nothing that MC would notice.
He is probably experimenting with new feelings too, cause seducing MC, someone he actually fell for, is way more different than his normal seductive speechcraft.
Asmodeus
Literally the best, that's his whole thing. Sure he has his eyes to help him, but he has been a lust demon for a long time, he knows how to seduce someone without magic. And like Mammon, he knows how to use his body to get other people's attention towards him and his body.
Has the best combination of lingering touches that just leave you wanting for more and of words the can be left up for interpretation, really making MC think that they want Asmo even without all the seduction.
He knows just from looking at MC's slightest change of reactions when to stop or when to push forward. He knows how far he can go with exploring their body without ruining the sexual tension. He would get them so riled up that MC would be the one initiating anything. In his mind he is just giving them a little push.
He also loves to tease them throughout the day only to disappear, leaving them wanting for more. He doesn't need to even see to know that he is all they can think about.
Beelzebub
I will be sincere, I don't think he really knows how to seduce people in the traditional sense. He would probably seduce MC by accident.
He would just call them in order to record his workout routine and when MC would get there he would be shirtless and sweaty, and they would have to sit behind a camera filming a shirtless Beel literally flexing his muscle
He would also lick food right off MC if they happened to drop some on themself. He literally licked wiped cream off MC's fingers in season 2.
He does all of these things by accident, and while he may be oblivious and not the best at seducing he isn't dumb. He will see how MC reacts and will start doing these things more often.
He would probably make them help him with his workout so MC could really get close to him to see and touch his muscles. post work out sex I am just saying
Belphegor
He really takes advantage off all the time cuddling with MC to see how far he can go when it comes to touching them, while still making sure they are comfortable.
It starts either with a hug from behind when MC is doing something else or with simple cuddles. His hands will start to wonder just slightly under their shirt or just barely over their thighs all while trying too see their reaction.
Everything he would say would be done so either with his face in the crook of their neck or as a whisper near MC's ear. It probably just be normal stuff at first, but the more he sees MC get into it the more he will start going about what he would actually want to do with them.
It's a really slow process but the little shit knows how to use his words and from what started as innocent cuddles it leads to MC doing nearly whatever he wants.
I also feel like he would go into their dreams and try to seduce them there too. This would led to MC having to seek Belphie out once they wake up from that dream.
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mrsjellymunson · 6 months
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The Biology Tutor
📕 Lesson 1: Female Anatomy
Continue studying: Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction | Extra Credit 01: Communication Skills
Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader
Summary: Eddie’s failing class, so you decide to offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.
W/C: something around 4k (I didn’t do a word count after editing, sorry)
CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, NSFW, PWP, smut with a story. Exhibitionism (f), mutual masturbation (m+f), swearing, innuendo, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, subtle size kink? Both Reader & Eddie are overage. No y/n. Reader’s appearance is not described, it can be whatever you like.
A/N: A cute little bit of biology lesson-based smut. I’m a sucker for virgin!Eddie and wanted to see if I could write him. Let me know how I did! 😄
My masterlist
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You’ve had a crush on the guy in your Biology class since the beginning of the year when you first saw him ranting on a table in the cafeteria. There’s something about him that’s so different from the guys you’d usually go for. You run in completely different social circles, you with the academically-gifted ‘Brainy Bunch’ (an eye-rollingly terrible moniker coined by the we-think-we’re-so-clever jocks), and him with his nerdy friends. Despite this you find him unusual and intriguing, not to mention hot as all hell. You guess the ‘freak metalhead’ look doesn’t work for everyone, but his long hair and rebellious dark ink are certainly doing it for you. You really want to discover what’s underneath those layers of denim, leather and torn shirts, your imagination only able to go so far as you ponder his form late at night in your bed.
However, girls talk, and you’ve never heard of him being with any of them, or even speaking to all that many. For all his bravado and apparent confidence, you’re reasonably certain that Eddie Munson is still a virgin.
And for some reason this draws you to him even more.
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You’re pretty sure you’ve caught Eddie checking out your ass as it’s perched on a high stool while he sits behind you in the biology lab. On days when you’re in this class you’ve started to wear your tightest jeans, and your shortest skirts (though if anyone asked you’d insist it was a coincidence).
Somehow you’ve become inexplicably clumsy (but only in this class, how odd…), often dropping your pencil and having to bend over to pick it up, occasionally chewing on the end in contemplation when you know he’s watching, much to the chagrin of your teacher.
“Never put anything in your mouth in the lab, you should all know better by now.”
You smirk at the innuendo in Eddie’s direction and he quickly looks away, ears exposed by his lab-regulation tied-back hair a little pink at the tips.
You also often ‘forget’ or ‘lose’ equipment, asking him if he’s got a spare, or could he please get you a replacement from the cupboards, which he’s always more than willing to do (giving you ample opportunities to observe his denim-clad ass as he does so).
“Damn, I seem to be one test tube short. Eddie, would you be a doll and get me one from the cupboard?”, crossing your legs and subtly ensuring the hem of your skirt rides up just a little more.
Eddie looks you up and down (result!) and agrees.
“Thanks, you really are my knight in shiny, um, leather?” You wince slightly at your clumsy comment, but he takes it in his stride, continuing the bit by replying,
“Here you go, your majesty”, bowing theatrically and presenting the glassware to you atop his forearm, making you grin.
In another lesson: “Shit, I tore my filter. Eddie, do you have a spare?”
“Anything for the Princess of Biology.”
He gives you a little smirk, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly. You can’t help gazing at his strong, ring-clad hands as he hands you the little circle of absorbent paper.
It becomes somewhat of a game, you playing the Princess and he the rescuing knight.
But for all your teasing you genuinely do actually want to help him pass the class. You don’t want him to have to repeat the year - you’ve seen him play at The Hideout and you know he’s meant for greater things.
It’s just biology, it can’t be any harder than what little you’ve picked up about that complicated game he plays, which seems to be all numbers, convoluted plots and organising “campaigns”, whatever they are. You’re sure he could pass if he’d just apply himself.
Or, perhaps, he just needs the right tutor…?
You’d broached it with your science teacher, offering to help ‘any students who were behind’ for extra credits. After he’d agreed you’d approached Eddie that same day, offering to come to his home and help him with his overdue assignments.
He was confused and skeptical at first, thinking this could all be some elaborate prank, but you were gentle and persuasive, and he’d agreed to pick you up later that day.
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You’re sitting on his worn-out sofa, draped with a well loved but soft blanket. You’ve spent the last hour trying to get Eddie to understand cellular respiration (“Isn’t it just, like, breathing in and out?” “No, Eddie, this is cell biochemistry, it’s a bit more complicated than that”), but nothing you attempt seems to be working.
He’s despondent, won’t look at you, and seems resigned to his fate of never passing this particular subject, interjecting with statements like,
“Look, it’s just not going in.”
“I don’t know how to make it stick.”
“I don’t think I’ll get it, Princess, even if you beat it into me.”
The innuendo (accidental or not) is driving you crazy. As is Eddie’s lack of self belief.
You’d even tried explaining it by using D&D analogies.
“Think of the chemical reactions like individual characters interacting in groups. Like, if this particular troupe disband and some make allegiances with another, the group has different skills and attributes now, right?” But after a promising start even that doesn’t seem to hold his attention.
In fact, the more animated you get and closer you sit, the more distracted and fidgety he becomes, unwilling to engage fully with you and shifting uncomfortably.
You move further towards him on the sofa, determined to give it one last shot, and force him to make eye contact with you.
Their colour and depth surprises you as you look into them properly for the first time, noticing their rich, swirling chocolate and whiskey hues.
Your eyes briefly drop to his lips, the soft pink, plump, velvety pillows looking mightily enticing. God, they’re perfect.
Goosebumps rise on your arm as you feel his surprisingly soft curls tickle your shoulder.
Okay, you knew he was cute, but up close? Fucking hell…
You lean across your notes and over to the text book that’s on his other side. Your thighs are touching, and as you twist the side of your breast makes contact with his arm. If he looked slightly down and towards you he’d be able to see right down the neck of your tank top. You kind of hope he does.
Huffing, you prod at the book with your hand, hoping that the diagram on the page might make everything clearer. The movement makes your boobs jiggle a little.
You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped breathing and he suddenly lets out a huff of breath, covering it with a badly faked cough. His cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink.
So, you definitely weren’t imagining all that stuff in class.
Fuck it. You consider this might be the only opportunity you might get to do this, so decide to grab it. After all, academic tutelage was only part of your motivation to get him alone, and something you’ve been thinking about for a long time, one of the fantasies that keeps you up at night, pops into your head. One that would definitely get his attention. And if you can’t help his confidence academically, perhaps you can help with it somewhere else. Call it interpersonal tutelage…?
With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you say, “Um, maybe we should take a break. Y’know, relax a little?”
You scootch away to the end of the sofa, putting your back against the armrest and bringing your feet up onto the cushion in front of you. You grab a couple of throw cushions and slot them behind you, getting comfortable.
Eddie seems to relax a little too once you’ve moved away, but still looks uneasy.
God, are you really going to do this? What if he screams and runs away, or worse, tells his friends, or your classmates..? No, you’ve been thinking about this for far too long. Oh, fuck it x 2…
Feigning a stretch, you arch your back and place your hands at the back of your waist, pushing your chest, and breasts, upwards. Then you move them to the sides of your ribs, glancing over the sides of your boobs, seemingly-innocently pushing them together. You move a hand underneath one of your breasts, cupping it gently in the crook of your thumb and forefinger.
Eddie is still sitting tensely on the front edge of the sofa cushions, stealing sideways glances at you through the curtain of his hair.
“C’mon, Eddie, get comfy with me. It’ll help, I promise.”
Self-consciously, Eddie shifts himself and sits facing you, cross-legged, at the other end of the sofa. You give him a soft smile, which he returns with a slightly bashful one of his own, afterwards rolling his lips inwards between his teeth.
Okay, it’s now or never. Are you gonna be able to concentrate on this, Eddie?
You hum quietly, and almost closing your eyes you run a palm down your chest and over your belly. You drop one knee slightly out to the side, and run your hand down the inside of your thigh and back up it, eventually pushing your fingers between your thighs and cupping your mound with your palm.
You see Eddie’s eyes widen and hear a stifled choke.
Your hand moves to fully cup your breast, and you lightly trace your thumb over your hardening nipple whilst the hand between your legs begins to apply gentle pressure, making you inhale deeply.
Eddie watches you, agape, bringing his hands together and clasping one hand over the other in front of him, you surmise to disguise his burgeoning bulge.
You open your eyes a little, keeping them soft and half lidded, and gently smile in Eddie’s direction, ensuring he’s still watching you.
Using both hands to pop the button and lower the zipper on your jeans, you tease yourself by running the pretty elastic trim of your your panties between your fingertips, pulling it slightly away from you and letting it snap back onto your abdomen.
“Uh…”, he swallows hard, and you internally groan at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in that delicious neck, “What’re you doing..?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie? I’m… relaxing…”
Sighing out the last word, you choose this moment to slip your hand down the front of your underwear, sliding over your mound and dipping just the tip of one finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that’s already pooled there. Your forehead furrows a little and you let out a quiet, contented hum.
Eddie’s eyes widen further and his eyebrows disappear completely under his bangs, and he sounds a little like he’s suffocating.
He tries to move further away from you along the sofa, unsuccessfully however as he’s wedged against the other armrest.
“Uh, I can, y’know, leave, or you could use my room, or, I can take you home, or, or-”
He’s babbling, and looking everywhere but at you. That’s not what you want at all, and you’re also concerned that he looks so uncomfortable.
“I can stop, if you want…”
He rushes out a reply, almost shouting the first syllable.
“N-NO! Um, no, it’s okay, really.”
“Okay, Eddie, stay right there. Keep your eyes on me, I wanna give you a show.”
He looks even more shocked, jaw dropping open, and you think he might bolt. But after a moment it’s clear that despite being full of anxiety, fear and self-consciousness, his curiosity, hormones and horniness are winning out, and he fixes his gaze on you.
He manages to squeak out, “Ok-aay…”
You lift your hips, using both hands to push your jeans and underwear down your legs until they reach your ankles. You slowly splay your knees, finally exposing yourself fully to Eddie’s gaze. One hand comes back to your breast, and you pinch your fabric-covered nipple between your thumb and forefinger.
He takes in the sight before him, the soft fur around your core, your wet folds glistening in the dim light of his living room, your sultry gaze, the peaks of your hardened nipples now visible through the thin fabric of your top.
He lets out a stuttering breath as his hips involuntarily shift underneath him, trying to find some friction.
“Jeezus fuck, Princess, are you tryin’a kill me?”
You try to think of something that might help relax him.
“If it helps you can imagine that we’re still studying. How about a quick lesson in female anatomy..?”
You move your hand down and with featherlight touches trace your fingertips around your pussy.
“Now, this whole area is my vulva.”
Eddie gulps.
Making a vertical line you trace your fingers over your wet lips.
“These are my labia.”
Eddie’s lips press together and he lets out a stammering hum, closing his eyes momentarily before snapping them back open so he doesn’t miss a thing.
“Are you paying attention, Eddie? This part is really important. This-,” you inhale sharply as you trail your wet fingers upwards and make contact, “This is where you’ll find my clit- fuck-”
It feels so delicious you almost don’t manage to finish your sentence, and you let out a long, low hum. Part of you doesn’t want to stop, but you’ve got more planned. Moving your fingers down again, you say,
“And this, here? This is my vagina…”
With a smile, you watch him stare as you dip a fingertip into your sopping hole, letting out a low moan as you gradually slip it inside of you.
“You know what the g-spot is, Eddie? I can show you where to find it, if you want me to…?”
You slide your finger in further, curling it towards your front wall, almost managing to tickle that certain spot within and letting out a loud groan.
At the other end of the sofa Eddie gasps an inhale, whimpering slightly, and you see him press the heel of his hand into his crotch. The combination of his sounds and actions is making you impossibly wetter - the boys you’ve been with before didn’t do much of either, and you didn’t know how much it turned you on.
You watch his face as he stares intently at your weeping centre as you slowly, so slowly move your finger in and out a few times.
“D’you think you’ll remember that, Eddie?”
“I promise I’ll fuckin’ try, Jesus Christ…”
He swallows again, exhaling heavily.
Deciding it’s time for the main event, you bring the hand that was squeezing your breast down your body, moving your fingertips to your clit and applying gentle pressure.
“I want you to see how wet you make me, Eddie. I want you to know how much I enjoy you watching my ass in biology class, how often I’ve thought about it when I’m alone. How much I like checking yours out in those oh-so tight jean- oh!”
A particularly exquisite circle followed by a firm press on your clit makes you moan out loud. The combination of both your hands has you close, closer than you imagined you’d be at this stage. It takes much longer when you’re by yourself, and you’re surprised and excited by just how much you’re enjoying having Eddie watch you.
Eddie’s fully gripping himself through his jeans now and is breathing heavily through his nose. He looks big, and you salivate at the thought.
You really want to see what he’s been hiding inside that tight denim.
“Show me, Eddie, I wanna see you.”
Hesitantly, never having experienced anything even close to this before, Eddie mumbles,
“You, uh…?”
“I wanna see you. Take out your cock. Let me see all of you, please.”
He’s rubbing himself, and you can see how strained his jeans are, a wet stain now visible in the dark fabric.
Slowly, eyes never leaving your face and looking for any tiny indication that you’re uncomfortable or have changed your mind, he slowly undoes his button and pulls down his zipper.
His languid pace is killing you, but in a good way; you realise he most likely has no idea what this is doing to you.
He rearranges the front of his jeans, opening the fly wide and leaving nothing but a thin layer of checkered cotton covering his member. The tent it’s creating is impressive.
He watches you stare and run your wet tongue over your bottom lip.
Letting out a nervous breath between pursed lips, he pushes one hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, using his thumb and two fingers to hold his cock at the base. Using his other hand he slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulls the fabric out and downwards, gradually exposing his full member to the lights of the room and to you.
You pause your own movements and spend a moment taking it in. It’s long, with an impressive girth - you briefly wonder whether he knows what he’s packing - and it’s the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. Lengthy, veined, slightly curved, and thick, so thick.
Eddie watches your expression for a moment. Satisfied that you’re not freaked or about to run away screaming, he brings the rest of his fingers to join the others, wrapping himself fully in his fist and squeezing gently, causing a little bead of precum to collect on the tip.
You take in the sight before you for a few moments, then utter, completely honestly, “Eddie, in case no one’s ever told you this, you have a really beautiful dick.”
His face and neck turn the second-prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.
“No one’s ever told me that before, Princess.” Adding, almost in a whisper, “In fact, no one’s ever seen it.”
He chuckles lightly through that last sentence, embarrassed at what he’s just admitted. The ego boost of your comments has clearly given him some confidence though, as he adds with a slight smirk, a little breathy as he runs the pad of his thumb unhurriedly over his tip, “You, uh, really think so?”
Oh, so he likes me watching him too?
You can’t take your eyes off of it.
“I really do, Eddie. It’s so pretty.”
As if to confirm your statement you resume your hand movements, adding another finger and resuming circling your clit with the other. You notice that Eddie’s started moving too, his hand moving over himself in a deft gripping and twisting motion, his hips bucking up every now and again.
For a few moments neither of you say anything, the only sounds in the room your combined panting breaths and the lewd movements of wet skin.
Your clit is swollen and supremely sensitive, and, pushing in a little further, your fingers just tickle that exquisite spot within you.
You moan as you imagine it’s Eddie’s pretty cock inside you. That he’s leaning over you, thrusting into you, hitting that spot effortlessly. Maybe even talking to you, telling you how good your pussy feels, how well you’re taking him…
Suddenly your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth hangs open, a gutteral moan emerging from your chest as you get closer and closer.
Bringing your attention back to him you mumble, hurriedly,
“Jeezus Eddie, I’m gonna cum, you wanna see me cum?”
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life.”
Eddie’s words come out in a spluttering rush and on his last word your breathing halts, your muscles lock and you cum, hard, clenching around your fingers and letting out an involuntary strangled scream.
Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you think you hear Eddie let out a loud, “Holy shhhiiiit!”
You come down a little, opening your eyes and locking them with Eddie’s. You ride out your aftershocks, humming as you feel your fingers inside of you and your juices running down them. You eventually remove your fingers from your cunt, leaving its puffy wetness fully on display, and trace them around your lips and clit.
“F-fuck, Princess, that’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen…”
Eddie’s red-faced and panting, his cock still very much standing to attention in his now vice-like grip, the tip an angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum. His eyes are blown dark, the chocolate rims almost completely obscured. His face and neck are flushed and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he’s clenching his jaw, looking like he’s trying desperately not to bust.
“Are you ok over there, Eddie?”
“Shit, yeah, yes, I mean, fuck.”
Breathily, you ask him,
“Do you wanna cum?”
“Fuck yes, I just, I didn’t know whether you wanted me to.”
“Oh I do Eddie, I really do. It’s your turn now. You gonna cum for me? Please, let me see you lose it, show me everything you’ve got.”
He breathes out a loud sigh in what seems like relief. You like how good he’s being for you, learning yet more about yourself that you didn’t know before.
His fist speeds up as his other hand comes to hold his balls, deftly stroking and rolling the flesh. His brow furrows deeply and his lips clamp shut around a low moan. He’s staring intently at you, eyes flicking between your face and your still-dripping cunt.
Suddenly his expression turns to one resembling surprise, as his eyebrows lift and his mouth opens, a string of expletives leaving those perfect, plump lips,
“Fuck, fuck, Jeezus, motherf-, oh my-, fuckfuckfuuuck!”
His jaw drops as his abdomen contracts, and his eyes fix on your cunt as he jets hot ropes of white cum into the air and over his fist and t-shirt. There’s so much, and it seems never ending.
The sight is even better than you’d imagined it might be and your hips buck up into your hand, making you press your fingers into your clit again triggering another aftershock, and you find yourself moaning along with him.
For a few moments there’s more silence, aside from your panting and heavy breathing.
Eventually Eddie chuckles a little, and you huff a breath out through your nose with a smile on your face.
You’re both a sweaty, sticky mess, but neither of you care.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was…” You’re lost for words.
“Amazing? Incredible?” Seeing the grin plastered across Eddie’s face is easily as gratifying as all the other stuff you’ve done tonight.
You both giggle as Eddie says, “Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely the best tutor I’ve ever had.”
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Neither of you really want to move, but some cleanup is definitely necessary. Eddie takes the blanket from the sofa and throws it in the washer, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom, letting you know when it’s free and returning in a change of clothes, throwing the others in with the blanket.
As you both process what’s just transpired you share timid glances and half smiles.
You both sit on the sofa again as you start to pack up your notes and books. In another unforeseen realisation, you’re surprised at how much you’ve enjoyed Eddie’s company, and the warm feeling you get inside every time he looks at you is entirely unexpected.
You realise you’re gonna have to be the one to say something, and give Eddie a smirk.
“So, how about next time we do some practical revision on, maybe, male anatomy?”
He looks a little surprised, but certainly not unhappy at the suggestion that there might actually be a ‘next time’.
“You really wanna, uh, tutor me again?”
Nodding in the affirmative, you reply, “Oh yeah, I think we’ve both learned a lot this afternoon.”
Holding his gaze, you suggest,
“Same time next week..?”
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Continue studying with Lesson 2: Male anatomy
A/N 2: I’ve been having thoughts about making this a miniseries, so please let me know if you’d like to see a second “lesson” 😉
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