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#closer. and closer. look and touch and examine.
zealousllamawolf · 3 days
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Prompt from a Request (Alastor X FemReader) R+18
!!Minors DNI!!
Pairing- Alastor x Reader
Summary Reader is on their period where Alastor can't help but treat himself.
Word Count- 2K
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~~~
  Your first period in Hell was the worst, and they did not have birth control to help with the flow which you took religiously when you were alive, unfortunately you were cursed with heavy periods. Though at the time you did not know sinners still had periods. So, there you were sitting next to Angel at the bar nursing a drink when you laughed at something Husk said when the familiar feeling occurred between your legs. Immediately you were alarmed, NO, it can’t be!
  Your face went blank void of all emotion, and you stood up sliding off the bar stool, letting the chair legs scrap on the floor. Without looking up at anyone your eyes fixed to the ground, you quickly waddled your way to your room with your hands behind you covering your backside, knowing the blood had already seeped through your leggings. You pull up a hand to reveal bloody fingers.
  “No, no, no.” You whine getting closer to your room rounding the corner when you bump into something hard, stumbling backwards. You groan and look up at Alastor’s grinning face.
  “My my, you seem to be in a hurry.’’ Alastor says smirking down at you, reaching out his arms he grabs your shoulders, steading you. You take a step back out of Alastor’s personal space since you knew he did not like anyone to touch him or be overly close, but surprisingly he steps closer, and did not release your shoulders.
  Over the past couple of weeks staying at the hotel you made sure you did not do anything to upset Alastor, he was terrifying, and you always felt uneasy around him. His smile was unnerving as it was but when he stared, you just wanted to sink into the floor.
  “I-… Yes, I need to handle something that is pressing.” You say talking with your hands to express more urgency. Suddenly Alastor snatches your hand examining your slick fingers. He leaned forward and pulled your hand to his face, taking a deep inhale, closing his eyes savoring the scent. You blush at the intimacy of the moment, rubbing your legs together uncomfortably. Alastor was smelling your blood from the most private part of your body; you thought cringing inwardly.
  “Are you hurt I can only assume since the blood” his voice dangerously low when he said blood, you could barely hear him over the static that grew louder around both of you. He opened his eyes looking down at you with half lidded eyes like he was high off the scent of your blood. The intense way he was looking at you left you speechless, the desire behind his eyes sending a warm feeling pool in your groin. No, stop, he just wants your blood that’s kinda his thing, right?
  “N-no, I am fine,” gulping from your throat going dry, “it’s more a personal matter.” You stumble over your words as he brings your hand closer, pressing them to his lips, before pulling them back slightly. Your heart rapidly starts to beat in your chest as you watch him lick his lip as soon as he licked the blood his eyes grew wide at the taste.
  “Irresistible.” Alastor whispers bringing your hand to his lips before slowing sliding one of your fingers in his mouth. Your breath hitched at the sensation, sending tingles down your arm. You bite your lip to hold back a moan when his tongue swirled around your finger ever so lightly. Alastor lets out a groan, gripping your arm tightly slipping in another finger in. You take a step back in a daze, your back hits a wall, grateful for the support you lean your full weight against it. As revolting as this was your body betrayed you by being turned on by the mere thought of Alastor’s mouth on your skin.
  In one swift movement Alastor pins you against the wall, slipping your fingers out of his mouth leaning in close enough to feel his breath on your lips, he rests a hand on your hip gently griping, while he slides one under your chin lifting it up.
  “I need another taste, ma bichette*” he inhales sharply as you press your lips to his sliding your hands up his chest wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. He moans at your eagerness, deepening the kiss he slides his hand around your throat gently squeezing softly making you groan at the pressure. You break the kiss looking at Alastor through half lidded lust filled eyes, turning your head allowing more of your neck exposed.
  “Then take it.’’ You whine. Alastor dips his head down lightly biting down, compelling you to inhale quickly, holding your breath waiting for the pain to start. Alastor shifts and slides a leg between yours, spreading them open till his thigh pressed to your mound, chuckling menacingly Alastor trails his nose up the length of your neck, nipping at your ear lobe.
  “Oh, mon cheri, so willing to give yourself to me already.’’ He grinds his thigh against your heat. “Your neck isn’t the place I want to indulge in.” It takes you a moment to think through the fog that clouded your judgement, but you eventually understand what he meant, when the realization comes to you, your face instantly burns up.
  “Al… I-I did not think you really cared for that type of thing.” You say groaning at the constant friction Alastor was making. You look down and notice a wet spot forming on his pants, you whisper. “You’re going to dirty your suit if you continue to do that.” You say, silently hoping he will continue, since it felt so good, you have not been touched for years prior to dying. Even though Alastor scared you at times you could not stop the way he was making you feel, trembling at his every touch.
  “You’d be mistaken my dear, this is only an act for my entertainment.” Alastor laughs lightly but his eyes told you another story. They had turned to radio dials, which is when you noticed all the other strange things happening around you. The lights were flickering, and the air was thick with static pulsing around you, but most importantly Alastor’s frame was slightly larger than normal, and his antlers had grown towering over you. “You are just the toy I decided to play with.”
  You stomach tighten when he finished speaking, the thought of him just using you for something only he would want was thrilling as much as the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. Being eaten out by him while on your period still grossed you out, but the question of pleasure was on the line so you caved.
 “P-please be g-gentle with me.” You whimper, pushing down Alastor’s thigh away from your throbbing core, grabbing his hand you pull him the rest of the way to your room.
Before the door is even closed you feel Alastor’s hand on your lower back leading you to your bed, you try to make your way to the bathroom to clean up a bit but, you are stopped when Alastor’s hand snakes around your waist pulling you closer to his side.
“Alastor, I need to get a towel.’ You say shyly. “I bleed rather a lot and I don’t want to—.’’ Alastor laugh fills the room cutting you off.
“Oh dear, do relax. I am not going to let a single drop on your covers.” Your face burns wondering what you have gotten yourself into.
 In no time you are lying on your back, while Alastor stands in front of you between your legs. He sheds his coat, neatly laying it across your bed, then proceeds to unbutton his cuff rolling his sleeves up just below his elbow, watching as his muscles flex under his skin. Your eyes trailed his every move never seeing Alastor this excited, head tilted, smiling coyly down at you. The dim light casts a shadow across his upper face making his eyes glow redder somehow, sending a thrill down your spine. Alastor kneels sliding his hands up your thighs stopping at the top of your stretchy leggings, curling his fingers under your waistband dragging his nails against the skin at your hips hard enough to leave thin trails of blood in their wake, making you shudder with pain and excitement.
“Lift your hips up.” Alastor commands, you raise your hips up slightly as he shimmies your pants and panties down past the curve of your ass. You lift your legs once the fabric bunches at your knees allowing him to slide the rest down, taking them off. Once bare from the waist down fully exposed to Alastor, his hands slide up your calf, lightly gripping your knees he slowly spreads your legs open reveling your drenched cunt on display. You bite your lip trying to focus on something other than Alastor and settled on a stain on the ceiling. Alastor did not miss your shyness and refusal to look at him. He shakes his head he could not have that now, could he?
“Look at me, doe.” he says sternly, planting soft trail of kisses down your inner thigh, slowly making his way down your leg to your center. His other hand was gripping your other thigh pushing your leg down into the bed, locking you into place. You felt his hot breath on your core before he licked the skin between your leg and your outer lips. The action makes you both groan, forcing your hips to jerk up at the sudden contact. “You’re so intoxicating.” He whispers before he starts to slide his tongue everywhere but the places you need to be touched. Your cunt clenches at the close calls aching for his tongue.
“Al-Alastor, stop t-teasing me.” you whimper barely able to contain your need for more. You runt your hips up trying to force his tongue to slip up and do what you wanted. You look down at his smirking up at you with a sly smile almost as if he was enjoying watching you squirm under his hold. He skims lightly up the length of your fold watching your reaction. You moan and arch your back clenching the covers in tight fists. 
Alastor runs his smooth tongue over your clit making your hips jump, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your whole body. You feel him chuckle against your cunt before he starts to add pressure to your sensitive nub drawing light circles tantalizingly slow. You run your hand under your shirt lifting it up as you go, slipping your bra over your breasts, rolling your one of your nipples between your fingers.
“Such a sweet taste you have dear.” Alastor growls sliding his tongue down your slit before plunging into your core making you moan feeling heat pool at the base of your stomach. As he keeps feasting on the blood pouring out of you his tongue curled up and swiped across your sweet spot sending a puling sensation though out your body. How is his tongue so long?
“Al… please do that again.” As if on cue he curls his tongue up again and adds more pressure. After what seemed like eternity his intense suckling increased, making the coil in your core snap releasing a flow of cum and blood into Alastor’s mouth, making him grip your thigh, feverishly lapping up all your juices.
He pulls back looking at you through dazed eyes before his eyes were drawn to a single drop of blood slowly dripping out of your core, he swoops down and licks up your slick.
“Ah.” Alastor chuckles darkly. “Still so, so much more to give.” You moan as he continues to feast on your over sensitive cunt barely recovering from your orgasm.
~~~
*ma bichette~ my little doe
Taglist- @papas-ghoulette @ceafighter @ivebeenthearchersstuff @rapturenyx
A/N I had a lot of fun writing this, but life got in the way :( I hope the ending didn't feel too rushed. I hope you like it.
Something personal! This is the playlist I listen to while writing. Music definitely affects how I write in a way! So enjoy!!! (Music taste isn’t the best so beware)
Playlist
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redflagshipwriter · 2 days
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Halfa Cass Chapter 5
“Well, she has survived,” DamiBat said blandly. He had clearly already showered and changed into casual clothes. His robin colors were neatly laid on the usual table. He had been waiting for her. Cass shut the plane door and swooped down to give him a hug.
“You worried,” Cass cooed. She ignored his struggling to get out of her arms. “Very sweet.” 
Damian hissed and tried a nerve strike. She kissed the top of his head and let him escape. 
“Black Bat, report,” demanded the Batdad. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat in the silly way it got inside the cowl. Worried. Fear. Nothing can happen to my baby, not my baby. 
She pranced over to give him a hug as well. He needed to touch her and know that she was real. 
Only when she detached did she consider answering him. “No,” Cass said thoughtfully. “Shower.” 
Batdad unhappily let her go. Cass took the time to get her thoughts into order. 
She did have to say something. 
She changed into comfy clothes and made her way to her computer. Damian had gone upstairs in the interim, and there was no sign of RedJason or Dickiebird. She sat and turned on the screen. Then she turned a stern glare on her family. 
Batdad and Timmybird looked away sheepishly, as if they hadn't meant to stare. 
Cass wrote up a factual report. Arrival time, important parts of conversation with Marvel, the area they had explored and his magical commentary. Then she got to the creepy laboratory. In the corner of her eye, she saw Timmybird tense. 
Cass sighed and spun her chair to face him. 
His shoulders went up guiltily. He meekly reached out and tapped a key. The secret spying of her computer screen ended. “Bad,” she said, because someone had to teach him manners. “Don't look at my screen.”
Tim hunched over a little more. Sorry. Sorry. (Will do it again.) 
Cass let out a heavy sigh and finished her report. She paused over her word choice a few times. 
“You entered an unknown machine, it powered on, and you received an electric shock?” Bruceman Batdad summarized before she had sent him the report.
Cass threw her hands up in disgust. “Stop spying!” She told him. “Stop it!” 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey.” He was sorry. He'd do it again, too. 
Ugh. 
UGH.
“Yes,” black bat confirmed tersely. 
“No lingering symptoms from the shock?” Bruceman Batdad came closer. Hovered. Flap flap, worried bat. “We should do a full check.”
Cass hissed at him, fed up. 
“Master Bruce is correct,” said Alfie. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her. Little Miss, listen now. Caution is the virtue.
She waited until he wasn't looking to roll her eyes. 
There was no sensible reason to escape. She sulked through the examination. 
“Heart rate is normal,” Alfie narrated for their audience. Cass narrowed her eyes. See? See what you've done? Wasted her time, is what you've done. 
“No pain?” Alfie poked and confirmed. Again and again. No, pain, no pain? Always no pain. “Well then,” he sounded very pleased. She blinked to full attention. “You must have done a very good job taking care of that rib, Miss Cassandra. I must admit I anticipated that there would still be soreness.” 
Cass was very still. Then she nodded. 
Uh. 
Um.
She thought about cartwheels. She thought about vaulting down a flight of stairs. 
Hm. 
…Probably her rib should not be totally healed. 
She weighed internally whether this was troubling to her. On the one hand, it seemed very odd. There was pain a few hours ago. Why no pain now? Pain usually left while she slept, not after flying a plane. Could healing be a side effect of magic girl transformation? Big, if true. Should probably tell her adults. 
On the other hand, no pain was objectively an improvement.
Cass decided to say nothing. Maybe Captain Marvel would have a theory. 
Speaking of. When she got back to her room, she sent him a text message. 
🪄 🧙🏻📞?
The answer came near instantly. 
Not yet! 😭 💔 She isn't answering me. Should I contact Constantine, you think?
Huh. Fast response, very good. Cass sent 
😬 
But 
🕵🏽‍♂️ 🤙🏽 🟰 👌🏽
Lol, wrote Captain Marvel. I know what u mean. 
Cass smacked her lips in the quiet of her room. He probably did. But he oughtn't. Old people had a hard time with her communication style. 
Idly, she lined up a theory. 
Captain Marvel had a magical girl transformation. Captain Marvel seemed too young for his body to her. 
Ergo:
He was baby. 
Cass, all of 17, wasn't that pressed about it. Bats and birds usually started flying and fighting as babies. Damian was still extremely baby. But. Hmm. 
Birds weren't in the Justice League. That was the difference: he had to hide it from Batdad, Superguy, and Wonder. 
Oh. Cass put a hand on her heart and frowned. In her dark room there was no one to see it aching in sympathy. 
Baby Captain was… was a little too baby, emotionally, for the Justice League. 
Well. It was decided, then. The next day at breakfast she announced, “Bruce. New rule.” 
Heads swiveled to look at her. 
“We are entitled to make rules for Father?” Damian asked Alfred, sotto voice. He looked intrigued. Alfie made a face that indicated his answer would depend on what rule Cass made.
Bruce lifted an eyebrow at her in prompt. 
“Stop bullying my Marvel,” she commanded. “He’s-” 
She hesitated and edited out the word “baby”.
“sensitive to hostility,” she settled on.
Bruce got a consternated look. “Sweetheart,” he began. 
“Yes,” Alfred said to Damian, voice extremely soft. “Upon occasion.”
“Play nice,” Cass said firmly. No arguments. She took a pointed bite out of her toast. No more need for words. Eat now.
Tim giggled. When Bruce looked at him he lifted his fork in front of his face, as if the slice of pancake was enough to hide that he was laughing at the pater familias.
“If he said that I'm bullying him,” Batdad started, sounding harassed, “then there must have been some misunderstanding. I've never intended-” 
“No misunderstanding,” Cass denied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I see. I see his body get small when you use the stern Batdad bigman voice.” 
Bruce grumbled into his hand and turned his face away, defeated. Resentment. Insecurity. Do I really do that?
“Yes, Father,” chimed Damian, who loved to kick the defeated. “Surely this fool quakes at the barest hint of your displeasure. But should he not?” 
Alfred huffed a subtle little laugh at the manipulation. He squeezed Damian's shoulder.
Bruce, thinking that Damian approved of his coworkers fearing the Bat, looked even more constipated. Resignation. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” BatDad settled. Sullen. Embarrassed. Resigned.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Cass said cheerfully. She squeezed her eyes when she smiled at him, because she was also baby. He melted, vanilla ice cream in July.
Damian made a solemn nod of respect out of Bruce's line of sight. She winked back her thanks for the assistance. 
Marvel got back to her not long after. Cass took the call outside, so that Bats could not flap nearby without her noticing. 
“Black Bat!’ he said, excited. “I got Constantine!” 
She blinked at her phone. “...In a trap?” 
“What? No,” he dismissed. “I know where he's going to be this afternoon. Can you come meet me?” 
Cass looked back at the house. “...Yes,” she decided. She was off the patrol roster tonight anyway. “Where are we going?” 
“Uhh….” Marvel's voice trailed off for a bit as he clearly consulted his note or phone or something. “I'll send you the address.” 
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nattblacklupin · 1 day
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Sleepless nights
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Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end
Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep
Masterlist
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After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.
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Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.
It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.
After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.
"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.
"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.
You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.
You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?
Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.
"Took you long enough, princess"
Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.
Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.
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teslvo · 2 days
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The Rookie ⋆。°✩ Intro
Detective!Joel Miller x Detective!Reader AU
A series chronicling a Rookie Detective and her Sergeant Partner.
Warnings Include : 18+ Readers Only , no outbreak, AU, Blood, Homicide, Language, eventual SMUT, descriptions of sexual desires, yearning (I know I need a warning for that), ANGST, age gap - More warnings to be added to each individual chapter
As Joel pulled out his Zippo, you watched his face be illuminated by the flame. Pink puckered lips take a drag from his menthol. He exhaled, letting smoke swirl around the both of you and into the somber night. Twinkling stars and ambulance sirens acted as a backdrop to your two-man show.
Some days, all this job seemed to be was a fucked-up television show production. Anticipating if your character would be written off, shot dead, or worse. Maybe the episode ended on a cliffhanger? Long nights searching for any clues or connections you could find. 
Today was the season's finale.
You clutched the silver thermal rescue blanket closer to your chest while watching the medical examiners wheel out multiple bodies from the house.
A shiver ran down your spine.
Joel noticed.
Of course, he noticed.
Casually moving in front of you, he blocked your line of sight. His thermal was halfway off his frame, as if he couldn’t be bothered with it. Your focus was now attuned to the specks of blood that littered his light blue button-up. The first three buttons from the collar down were roughly undone, and tiny bits of blood had landed on his thick neck.
You hadn’t realized you had spaced off until Joel gently placed his hand underneath your jaw. He couldn’t help looking you over for the third time since backup arrived. His warm brown eyes were swimming in sadness, exhaustion, and worry. The pinch between his eyebrows was a dead giveaway of the toll the day had taken on him.
“All good, rookie?” Joel’s paw of a hand brushed the top of your head, pushing back some flyaways while simultaneously leaning your head back to meet his eyes. His voice had grown raspy and deeper. It was warm, like Bourbon, accented with his southern drawl.
When he pulled his hand away, the warmth left with it. Flakes of dried blood had collected on his palm as a result of touching you.
"Yeah, I’m good.”
⋆。°✩
Author's Note: Hooray! I'm so excited to get on with my first project in such a long time. Y'all, after being such a Joel Miller obsessor for so long, this idea kept running through my head that I had to start on it. This will be a sort of anthology series, as stories I think are fitting for the characters and world-building manifest in my brain. So sit back and relax; I'll see you very soon. 
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avtrxxx · 1 day
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Brother's best friend
Neteyam (22) x female omatikayan reader (19)
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Warnings: none, pure fluff
You had the biggest crush on Neteyam and everyone knew. Your brother knew, your mother knew, even your father. But also your own brother who teased you to no end who also was your crush's best friend.
Ateyo, your brother would bring Neteyam over to see you get nervous around him and forget how to speak. You didn't know if Neteyam knew you liked him but you hoped he didn't because if he did, you would find a rock and hide under it for the rest of your life.
Neteyam and Ateyo were close since they were little. They were the same age and because you were younger, you arrived later when they already were very close. You could never break the bond they have but sometimes, you wished Neteyam would come to see YOU, not your brother.
Today, Neteyam came to get Ateyo to training. The hunting season was close and they had to prepare in order to get a lot of good kills. Neteyam had in mind to hunt one of the biggest Sturmbeest. He was already a warrior, so why not show off?
But Ateyo was fast asleep since he had to wake up late at night to see his girlfriend. You couldn't blame him, you wanted to do the same. Sneak out at night to meet your lover. The problem was that you didn't have a lover.
As if it was his own hut, Neteyam entered and looked around, searching for his partner in crimes. You were sitting cross-legged next to the pot, cutting some vegetables your mother left for you until she came back from another woman. You looked up at him but didn't say anything. It didn't matter that he was your brother's best friend, you guys didn't get to interact that much and the fact that you were so nervous around him didn't help either.
"Y/n, right?" he asked in a deep voice and your ears stood up.
"Yea, I'm Y/n." You nodded your head but your focus was still on the food. "If you are looking for my brother, he is sleeping. He snuck out last night to see Saeyla. He should be awake in a few minutes."
"I understand." Neteyam's voice trailed off. Now he had to wait but he couldn't leave and return in a few minutes. He had to wait for him. In the end, his eyes fell on you again and he chose to sit down and help you cook.
Neteyam approached you and sat on the ground, right next to you. You could feel your knees touching and your hands suddenly felt hot and sweaty but you didn't let it show. You focused on cutting those vegetables.
Sweaty hands holding the knife, it accidentally slipped from your hand and you cut yourself.
"Shit!" you cursed, wrapping your other hand around the bleeding finger to try and ease the pain.
"Are you alright?" Neteyam asked as he brought his hand closer to you. His hand slowly wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hand away from the other. He extended his other one and grabbed your hand before he brought it closer to his face and examined the wound. It was something minor.
He turned around for a moment, rummaging through the pocket attached to his loincloth still not letting go of your hand.
You could feel your cheeks getting hotter. You've never been this close to him and now you were only because you can't focus when around him. You didn't know if you should be nervous or embarrassed.
Neteyam took out from his pocket some ointment, put it all in a little jar. He put the jar on the ground and opened it. He took some paste with his fingers and applied it on your cut. He knew your cut would heal in maximum two days but you were so little and so fragile he wanted nothing more but to protect you.
It burned at first but the feeling soon disappeared. You were met with a toothy smile planted on Neteyam's face.
"Better?" he smiled at you, still not letting go of your hand. You nodded sheepishly, not looking up at him.
You felt like you were going to explode! He didn't let go of your hand and he didn't even have to hold it in the first place. You felt butterflies all over in your stomach and to be honest, you thought they escaped and now were flying wildly through your whole body.
"Am I ugly?" your eyes widened and in an instant you were looking up at him. Before you could say anything, he spoke again.
"Am I that ugly you don't want to look at me." he chuckled and looked at you, waiting for your response.
"N-No. You're h-handsome... I mean you're good l-looking. You look good! You have good genes. That's all!" you stumbled over your words. Neteyam chuckled at your shyness.
"You don't have to deny it. You really think I'm handsome?" he flashed you a toothy grin that made you clench your thighs together.
You lowered your head and focused on the task at hand, pretending not to pay attention to him.
"Yes... You are h-handsome." you said quietly, still not looking up at him because you know he has that cocky smirk on his face that makes you fold.
"You're pretty too." he said bluntly, watching you. You turned your head faster than you anticipated and saw his smile becoming wider. Your cheeks felt hot and for sure he saw you blushing.
"Thanks" you cleared your throat and lowered your gaze once again. Am I going crazy? Did he really say I'm pretty? You thought.
For a moment, the world around you stopped. You felt like you were in the cloud nine. You wanted to jump off your spot and giggle like a little school girl. Your fucking crush just called you PRETTY! But you kept your boring mask on and showed no reaction to his words.
"Ateyo, when is he going to wake up?" Neteyam asked, shifting closer to you. Again, his leg touched yours. The sensation of his hot skin against yours made the butterflies in your stomach go wild again.
"Here I am, skxawng!" Ateyo said, walking towards you two with his eyes barely staying open. He sat down in front of you, opposite from you and Neteyam.
"So, what happened while I was sleeping? Did you...–" he was cut off by your sudden change in tone.
"No!" you said quickly, not realizing how loud you were. Only when Ateyo smirked at you did you notice Neteyam's confused gaze on you.
"Nothing happened. I didn't jump at his neck or anything. He came to get you but you were sleeping and-" you stumbled over your words, trying to make Neteyam think Ateyo was talking about you and him messing with one another. You wanted to keep your crush on Neteyam a secret.
"Mhm, tsmuke. I know nothing happened. I was just messing around." Ateyo smirked at you as he spoke, his cocky tone making you want to slap him.
You felt like beating the shit out of that idiot. He almost exposed you and you didn't know what you would do if Neteyam found out you have a crush on him.
Ateyo rose to his feet and grabbed his bow, throwing it over his head and setting it on his back. He put on his warrior garments and nodded to Neteyam to come.
Neteyam stood up to go training with your brother. But before he made a step towards him, he bent down and caressed your head, giving it a little pat. Ateyo already left the hut and was waiting for Neteyam outside.
"See you later, princess." Neteyam said, looking back over his shoulder to you as he made his way out of your hut.
As Neteyam shot you a final glance, you felt like you were in heaven. The touch of his hand on your head, so big compared to yours sent a shiver run down your spine and goosebumps all over your skin. How couldn't one like him?
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skunkes · 7 months
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guy liker moment
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lisbonsteresa · 1 year
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i'm so normal about them
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hqkalon · 8 months
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𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 | jjk men
cont. voice kink, lots of teasing, public teasing, choking kink, voyeurism kink, petnames, praise kink | pairings : nanami , toji , gojo , sukuna , and getou x reader
an : for the millionth writing, this piece is not proofread lmfao— so a future apology for any writing error (:
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𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐈 it was a total accident, he’s usually a very affectionate man who loves touching everywhere on your body— whether that be his arm around your waist, or cutely holding hands. Though underneath tables and closed doors, he seems to be a different man.
a double date with each couple on side of the table? “that’s so cute, how did the two of you meet?” a voice across the table excitedly asked, “oh we met at a local bak-” you hesitated, feeling nanami’s ice-cold fingers snaked inside of your dress, “bakery.” nanami’s nonchalant tone replied innocently. hand stills caressing your bare thigh, before meeting your eyes as he leaned in. “naughty girl. stay still and keep quiet.” his lips brushing the heat of your ear as a hushed hiccup left your mouth, feeling the pads of his finger against your clothed clit. “she was a cashier who always added extra pastries in my bag.” nanami sat up and continued on without an ounce of suspicion.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 his voice always had a natural sternness, which you’ve subconsciously obliged to; along with his husky voice, stringing out each contestant so perfectly like a feather floating in the wind. He knew his tone made you feel a certain way, but not necessarily his voice.
“how about this one?” you turned around, displaying the white strawberry panties in your hand, watching toji examine it in approval. “yeah it’s cute.” his eyes directed elsewhere, “don’t lie if you don’t like it.” aggravation trailed through your tone, “you can leave if you aren’t gonna help.” a small gust of air hit you as toji’s hand gripped your upper, locking you in place. “how about i stuff those panties in that cute little mouth of yours hm? maybe then i’ll help.” his tone maliced with lust— your head whipped around instantly as heat bubbled within your tummy, “hah? what’s wrong with you?” your palm against your mouth, “n-nothing let’s go.” you casually tried to brush the feeling off, locking onto toji’s arm. “my voice affects you that much?” your hand slapped your ear as heat flooded your face, “cute.”
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 he’s always been a tease just throwing out random allegations with a condescending outline behind his sentence. of course he’d be utterly amused once he’s correct, teasing you non-stop— watching you hide your face in embarrassment.
“wait like this?” you softly glided the razors against gojo’s lower jaw as his hands wrapped lazily around your hips. “mhmm, you’re doing a good job angel.” he hummed with his eyes closed, your hand tilting his head backwards. “thankss.” you continued dragging the blade before gojo’s hand cupped yours. “why are you saying thank you?” he questioned chuckling “ya got a praise kink?” his ocean eyes opened, meeting yours as you quickly looked away. “w-what?” you decided to play dumb, feeling heat pour to your face. his arms tightened around your waist pulling you closer to him, “just continue shaving my face pretty girl.” his tone innocently brushing the situation off as you began your movements again this time fully aware of any praise. “good girl.” gojo teased, looking at your reaction through the mirror. “shut up toru .”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 such a cunning motherfucker when he finds out— similar to gojo, but much primal with it. he acts like he’s always knew that you’ve had such a kink, but wanted to wait till you announced it.
“such a brat.” sukuna scoffed watching you storm towards him, knowing how much his condescending tone sets you off. “kuna i told you about that name.” you pounced onto him, playfully raising a hand before feeling fingers wrap around your throat. “yeah you did.” his lips curled into a grin watching your movements falter as he pulled you near him, “what’s the matter brat?” his tone twisted with mischief, “move your hands.” you demanded with a hand tugging at his. “what’s the magic word princess.” his hand slightly tightened around your throat as a small mewl left your lips. “please..” you asked, adverting your eyes away from his— feeling his hand release. “atta girl.”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 nonchalant about it, BUT once the two of you get to a secluded area he’s on your ass. touching and groping your body non-stop because he wants to see it first hand himself. definitely had to bite back his horniness (failed).
"maybe i'll just cut my hair to my shoulder then?" geto questioned in question for you as you just shook your head side to side. "no geto don't cut your hair." you sighed reaching a hand out to play with his hair. "why not?" his eyebrow raised, turning within your direction. "beauseee it's pretty like this." you stressed out the vowels, meeting his eyes as he grinned before pursing hsi lips together. "i just remembered something.." a brief moment of silence passed by before you hummed in reponses waiting for his answer, "you know… you always tug my hair." his eyes glued to yours as you sat there confused. “what?” you laughed in question, “when your layed out with legs s—” his words muffled against your palm before grabbing your wrist with his hand, kissing the inside of your hand. “w-what are you doing?!” you stuttered out before snatching your hand— trying to bite back the embarrassment. “you’re too cute”
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rileyslibrary · 7 months
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A/N: *leans into the microphone* anybody ordered some non-verbal taunting communication, courtesy of the lieutenant?
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You have all gathered in the tent for a quick briefing by the captain. Today’s drill is supposed to begin before dawn, and without the sun to keep you warm, the breeze shamelessly seeps through the tent’s openings. You sit around the table with the rest of the team and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to focus on Price’s orders.
Ghost stands next to the captain, examining each team member from across the table. He stands with his legs spread, holding his hands behind his back. His eyes move slowly, taking in every expression, every posture, and every movement.
You scan him from his head down to his waist. He’s in full gear all the damn time; mask, scarf, uniform, jacket, tactical vest. Sometimes, you wonder if he sleeps with everything on so that he can be ready to go. Perhaps he hangs his clothes on a chair the night before and puts them on one by one in the morning. If that’s the case, it must take him forever to get ready. You wonder if it’s the layering that makes him look so big or if he’s naturally built that way.
You try to suppress the image of your lieutenant naked and redirect your attention to the captain’s briefing. You look at Price, who is pointing at something on the map, and notice Ghost staring at you from the corner of your eye. His eyes move slowly, from your face down to your arms, and he narrows his eyes at the sight. He unclasps his hands from behind his back, brings them to the front and wraps them around himself, mimicking your stance. He looks back up at you, tilts his head and raises one of his eyebrows.
You immediately drop your arms to your sides and mouth an apology at him. He shakes his head at you and returns to his original position with his hands behind his back. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they are already fixed on the person sitting next to you.
Price continues the briefing, and you try to absorb the information while battling the chill that creeps through your uniform. You struggle to keep your arms to your sides but, your efforts go in vain since you shiver whenever the wind blows in the tent.
The lieutenant, on the other hand, doesn’t let you off that easy. He picks up on every move you make like a fucking sensor. Your shoulders hunch forward, and he throws quick glimpses at you, signalling you to sit up straight. Sometimes, you place your hands in your pockets, and he widens his eyes at the sight, forcing you to put them back on the table. You absentmindedly slip your hands under your thighs one last time, and you see him taking a few steps back and beginning to walk around the table.
You stiffen up. As if the cold morning breeze wasn’t persecuting enough, now you have another—much worse—threat to fear. You follow Ghost with your peripheral vision while trying to focus on Price, but he disappears behind you.
You hear him fiddling with something—the soldiers across from you throw peeks above your head and then at each other. You try to pick up on their expressions. Unfortunately, you aren’t as good at decoding faces as he is.
There’s a hand brushing your chair, tucking something on its backrest. The same gloved hand nudges your shoulder once and points at the back.
You look over your shoulder.
It’s a cloth. You turn your upper body and take a closer look.
It’s a scarf; his scarf.
You turn to look at him, and he gestures for you to drape it over your shoulders as he walks back to the captain. You obey and lift it from the chair. It’s still warm to the touch. You throw it on your shoulders and wrap it tighter around yourself. His residual body heat is still trapped in the garment. It feels like a hug, and you fight the urge to bury your nose in and smell it. You forget the morning breeze, the upcoming drill, and his non-verbal taunting.
Because the morning breeze was there yesterday, and it will be here tomorrow. It is you who pitched a tent in its path.
Because the upcoming drill will eventually end, and you will get to rest. You just need to endure it first.
Because it wasn’t taunting on his part; it was his way of showing concern. And a teeny tiny bit of care.
You turn around and see Ghost taking back his position next to the captain. He doesn’t look at you again for the rest of the briefing. You wish he would. His scarf looks great on you.
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feirceangel · 2 months
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Imagine | Mine (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)
Imagine Feyd discovering that someone has dared to harm what’s his.
Word Count: 1,574
Warnings: possessive!Feyd, objectification, blood, murder, (Feyd is his own psychotic warning in himself to be honest.)
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Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is not known for his mercy.
Ask anyone in the universe who has heard even a whisper of House Harkonnen, and they will warn to tread carefully when dealing with them. If you value your life, you wouldn't even get near them.
And everyone knows Feyd-Rautha is one of the best examples of Harkonnen rage and violence, second only to his uncle, the Baron.
Renowned for his physical prowess as a fighter, his insatiable lust for blood and death, and his determination to rise in power and favour, he is a force to be reckoned with.
So why would anyone dare go against him?
He finds himself asking this as he looks upon your form, head bowed and turned slightly away from him. Hiding something.
Gracefully and predatory as a panther, he approaches you slowly.
"My darling.." his voice rasps.
Normally you greet him immediately, recognizing his footfalls from down the hall. You would smile at your na-Baron and ask him how his day went if you did not spend it with him.
You are oddly subdued tonight.
His eyes, always searching, follow a drop which falls from your cheek, landing on the cold concrete floor. Instantly, he is before you, grasping your chin in his strong hand. He tilts your head up, none too gently, and examines your tear-stained face.
"What happened?" His already raspy voice is deeper, darker.
Feyd is no stranger to your tears. In fact, he often revels in their presence, trying all sorts of things to make you cry. But he hasn't done anything to illicit that response today.
When you don't offer an answer right away, his grip tightens, squishing your cheeks together.
"Speak."
His voice holds no room for disobedience. You nod your head and he releases you, stepping back slightly.
You shake slightly as you begin, "I am sorry, na-Baron."
Feyd's anger is growing. You only call him that in public or when you are disturbed.
"Do not apologize. Explain," he can't stop himself from hissing.
"I took a walk today," you begin slowly. "Just to the training grounds to see if you were there. But I didn't see you so I walked back. He stopped me and-"
"'He'?" Feyd echoes.
"Richter," you supply the name of one of the Baron's top generals. "He grabbed me and said I was a no-good whore who should've been disposed of long ago."
Anger swirls with Feyd's chest at this news. Of course, many people have said harsh and often cruel things to you. But you always kept your head high and ignored the jabs. You’re always so strong.
This is different, he can tell.
"What else? You are not one to cry over a mere insult," he brings his hand up to swipe a tear from your soft cheek. You lean into his touch, relishing in its familiarity.
You inhale deeply, "He struck me without warning, na-Baron."
In his oft colourless word, all Feyd now sees is red.
"Where?" His voice is so low it's almost impossible to hear.
You shake as you lower the collar of your dress to reveal a swollen area on your shoulder, "Here."
His dark eyes flicker to yours, bidding you to continue.
You move your hand to your face and gently touch your tearstained cheek, "And here."
Feyd's hand clenches into a fist. He bends closer to examine your face, noting the slight swelling and the way you bow your head. He places his hand on the back of your head, angling your face upwards. A featherlight kiss is applied to your skin so softly you can barely feel it.
Your master and lover rises to his full height, "Rest my darling, I shall return shortly."
He turns to leave but you reach out and grab his arm. Feyd stops and turns to stare at you.
"Please, na-Baron. Don't hurt him."
He scowls at your request, "He has hurt you. Death is his reward."
"He has done nothing that you have not," you say. "I have known worse pain from your own hands.”
Feyd shakes his head and grips your arms, dragging you forward to stand with your bodies touching.
"Only I can touch what's mine. Only I can hurt you how I see fit. You take the pain only I give you." He dips his head close to your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you understand?”
"Of course, my lord na-Baron," your voice is breathy.
You are intoxicated by his closeness, the dangerous poise with which he caries himself, the possessiveness of his words and the truth of them.
"Say it."
"I'm yours alone, Feyd."
He crashes his lips onto yours, teeth clashing and lips bruising from the force of it. His hand squeezes your neck as he kisses you. When he finally parts, leaving you breathless, he takes a moment to admire you. His thumb brushes against your lips before he turns once more.
"That swine sealed his fate when he laid hands on what's mine," Feyd growls as he stalks out of the room.
He returns mere minutes later, dragging an incredibly nervous Richter behind him. With a violent shove, he pushes the frightened man to stand before you.
"I heard you disrespected my darling," Feyd points to the floor. "Kneel."
Richter obeys without hesitation. He knows how quick Feyd is to anger… and how few survive it.
"Kiss her shoe."
The man's eyes flicker to yours.
"Now," Feyd places his foot on Richter's back, forcing him down.
Shakily, he presses his lips to your shoe with a mumbled apology. It does nothing to sate Feyd-Rautha's wrath.
With practised ease, Feyd lands a harsh kick to the man's ribs. He repeats the action until the man is a sobbing mess splayed before your feet like an offering.
You regard him coldly, remembering the bite of his hand across your face.
“Please! Please forgive me, my lord!” Richter manages to sob coherent words. Spit and blood dribbles from his mouth pathetically.
“You have insulted me,” Feyd states. “Hurt what’s mine, belittled what’s mine.”
The man’s hand reaches towards your foot, as if you could spare him from the savage that is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
Feyd crushes his hand beneath his shoe, grinding down eliciting a whimper of pain, as he steps before you and above his prey.
He is regal in his violence, eyes shining with possessive obsession.
“Dear one,” he places his hand on your arm before handing you one of his blades. “Help me.”
He smirks as you grip the knife tightly. Your eyes meet his.
Feyd knows you’d do anything he asked of you, just as he knows he’d burn the universe to ashes if you asked him too.
“Of course, my lord,” you say, kneeling by the hurt man. “If it pleases you.”
Feyd’s grin reveals blackened teeth, “You please me, dearest. Now, make him suffer for insulting me and mine.”
The first cut is shallow, uncertain as it travels down the man’s bare arm. Feyd tsks his disapproval.
You adjust your grip and slash again, quickly this time, hitting deep and pointedly. The man screams out and thrashes, but Feyd is upon him in a second. He holds Richter still as you unleash your rage upon him.
Feyd watches you draw blood with a pleasure he’s never experienced before. Relishing in your bared teeth and angry snarls, he commits this to his memory.
He halts your hand as the man ceases his thrashing. With a predatory smile, Feyd guides your hand with his, penetrating the blade deep into the man’s throat.
You watch the man loose his life, as you pant with exertion.
“You have done well, my pet,” Feyd praises, removing the knife from your hand and tossing it aside. He places his hand atop your head.
“Thank you, Feyd.”
He moves his hand down your back and presses his face into your blood stained neck, inhaling deeply. Your hands come around to grasp his shoulders, bringing him close to you. He wraps his strong arms around you, holding you like a lover would.
When he sits up, you lunge forward, capturing his lips with yours. Ignoring the blood and the dead body on the floor, you guide Feyd towards the bed, hands leaving bloody marks on his pale skin.
“Please let me repay you,” you beg, tugging at his shirt. “Allow me to repent.”
“You don’t need to repent, love. But you can keep begging.”
He allows you to disrobe him and press him down onto the soft bedding.
In all honesty, Feyd craves this battle of dominance between you. He could overpower you in an instant, yet the hold you have over him has him bending to your will.
You need only beg and he would take a knee and worship at your feet.
And you know it.
You know he craves this, needs it like an addict. He adores the pain you can lavish upon him, adores the meek demeanour you show to everyone else, adores the side of you that matches his own carnal desires tenfold, adores the way you gladly bleed for him.
He adores you.
And you worship each other in a wicked ritual of blood, sweat, and tears each night.
And he’d never let anyone take this away from him- take you away from him.
He’d kill anyone who dared try.
~~~
[A/n- thanks for reading! Please let me know if you liked it :)]
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odoraful · 2 months
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Moment's respite
the boys react to you being really sleepy around them 💤
characters: zayne, xavier, rafayel x gn reader content: established relationship, comfort a/n: this was from an anon who requested a sleepy m/c! i'm sorry it took a bit, but to the lovely anon i hope i did your idea justice! shoutout to all my constantly sleepy folks out there as well
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𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬
It was only midday when you and Zayne boarded the train from Snowcrest back to Linkon, but your head was already lolling to the side. The homey, wintery town had an atmosphere that was too relaxing. Especially during those late afternoons after you and Zayne had gone cafe hopping, you wanted nothing more than to bask in the sun and fall asleep. 
As you settled into your seat by the window, Zayne pushed his and your luggage in the above storage compartment. Seeing his partner’s head bob towards the glass window, Zayne smiled to himself.
“I've never seen a person so sleepy before.” Zayne remarked, taking his place in the seat beside you.  
“It’s not my fault,” you mumbled groggily, “it’s the town.”
You began to rub your eyes, attempting to bring some life back into them. 
“I didn’t realise a town could have sedative properties.” He said, dryly. 
“You don’t understand, it’s too cosy. I feel like all my defences are down.” 
Zayne was entertained at the way you spun that into a complaint. A renowned hunter who finally takes a well-needed break feels too comforted by their holiday getaway.
He rested a hand on his chin in mock thought. “Should we have added combat training in the itinerary to have you be more alert, then?”
You laughed, knowing that if that had actually happened you would have hated it. The relaxation you experienced on this trip was a genuine good thing for the both of you. You continued to rub your eyes, trying to remove the build-up from when you last slept. Your movements were halted as Zayne gently held your wrists in place. You looked over at him, curiously. 
“I may not be an ophthalmologist, but I know rubbing your eyes too hard can damage the lens.” He leaned closer to examine them. They were slightly red from all the pressure you had put on them.
“Forcing yourself awake won’t do you any favours.”  He gently brushed a thumb over your eyelids. “You should sleep.”
He relaxed his shoulders, bumping them against yours in wordless invitation. You felt your protest fizzle away at the thought of resting on Zayne right this second. Some argument about how he would be bored without his number 1 conversation partner on the commute disappeared when you tilted your head and fell on his shoulder. 
“Don’t forget to wake me up when we get there…” Your voice trailed off as you nuzzled in place, trying to find a good spot to sleep. 
Zayne combed his fingers through your hair, tidying it up from your head wiggling. You were unresponsive to his touch. Your steady breathing signalled that you had already passed out. He stared fondly at your peaceful face. Inwardly, he admitted that the ride would be much less fun without your chatter, but he was more than content with just your presence alone. 
Succumbing to temptation, he lightly poked your cheek. He mused to himself about how you were somewhat correct — your defences were down, but it was to his benefit. He could finally do things like this without your teasing. 
𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹
Xavier moved his hand, ready to turn over to the next page of the book. He looked at you, expectantly.
“Have you finished this page?”
You hummed affirmatively, and he eagerly flipped to the next chapter. 
You and Xavier had begun the habit of reading in bed together in the evenings. The book of choice was Xavier's pick — an old-school mystery novel. Someone is found murdered in their private quarters on a train, and the detective must find the culprit before they strike again. The plot was thrilling, and you were enthralled from the beginning. However, between being weighted under plush quilts, propped up by fluffy pillows, and the body warmth of Xavier, you felt the words of the page slipping away from you. 
“Xavier, could you read aloud for me?”
His eyes turned wide like a surprised bunny. “Why the sudden request? Is everything okay?” He immediately covered your forehead with his hand, checking your temperature. 
Chuckling, you swatted his hand away. “I’m alright. I just want to hear your voice, please.” You looped your arm around him and Xavier softened. 
He couldn’t argue against your wishes. He cleared his throat and read the words out loud. Though Xavier didn’t have the most performative voice, he still tried to be a good storyteller — acting out the dialogue for each different character and steadying his pacing. The gentleness of his voice enveloped you. It quickly sounded less like an intense crime novel, and more like a children’s storybook. 
You closed your eyes, attempting to keep an attentive ear to what Xavier was saying. 
“Are you still with me?” He asked, sensing how you had relaxed against his side. 
“Yes, yes, I’m still listening.” Your eyes remained shut, words slightly slurring together. “Keep going. I think the case is-” A yawn you tried to stifle came out. “About to be cracked wide open.”
Xavier continued, taking note of your growing drowsiness. He read out loud this time in a more hushed voice, “‘The detective gathered everyone in the train’s shared compartment space. Pacing across the carpet, he had finally figured out the killer’s identity.’” 
There was a slight thud against the headboard.
Turning to the source of the sound, Xavier found you fast asleep. 
He shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. Even when the culprit is about to be revealed, you still decide to fall asleep.
To be honest, he was beginning to get sleepy himself, so perhaps it was perfect timing. The two of you were cutely similar in that regard. In fact, Xavier had done the exact same thing a few days ago. Chastising you about it would only backfire on himself.  
He carefully removed your arm loosely looped around his own and quietly stood up to tuck you in. Laying you in a more comfortable position, he readjusted the blanket to cover your body, admiring how snuggled deeper into the sheets. He joined you in bed. The warm glow of the night light behind him on the bedside table faintly illuminated your serene expression. 
“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, before placing a light kiss on your forehead and switching off the light.
𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑳
It was a hot day in Linkon, and Whitesand Beach was the perfect respite for the artist and his bodyguard. The sand gleamed silvery-white under the sun, with crystalline waves crashing against the shore. There were many others here who had also pitched beach canopies to provide a shield against the heat. You and Rafayel had tried your best to create a comfortable interior with your rented outdoor lounge chairs and mini portable fans. You were lying on one of the chairs, relishing in the fresh air (a definite contrast from the city) whilst you waited for Rafayel. 
He soon returned holding up two drinks, both decorated with little umbrellas and even small skewers with fruit. 
You took the glass from him in amused shock. “Raf, did you make a special request for more decorations?”
Rafayel took a sip of the drink before placing it down on the table. “Nope, the employee recognised me and wanted to add a bit more pizazz to the drinks.” He plopped in his seat and flashed a smile. “Don’t worry, I tipped them extra for their efforts.”
You sipped the cool drink and gazed out at the beach, mesmerised by the waves. It’s repetitive ebb and flow almost lulled you somehow. 
The day hasn't even started! How can you even think about sleeping?! You scolded yourself. You patted both your cheeks to snap out of this tiredness. 
You turned your attention to something else. A couple were playing volleyball nearby. You watched the ball be tossed back-and-forth, back-and-forth… Your eyelids began to fall on their accord. 
Rafayel's voice pulled you from your drowsiness, and you realised he had been observing you this whole time. “Didn’t sleep well last night?” He cocked his head to the side in concern.
“I did, but-” You turned to your side to face him properly. “Being out here just makes me feel sleepy, that’s all.”
Too adorable. He thought to himself, seeing the small pout on your face as you rubbed your eyes. 
“I can’t think of a better place to rest than next to the ocean. It’s nature’s own background noise.” He proclaimed. 
Though that sounded enticing, you still hesitated. Wouldn’t it make you a bad partner if you slept for most of the time you two were outside? Sensing your reluctance, Rafayel continued.
“And how are you going to be a good bodyguard for me if you’re not well rested? Didn’t they teach you that in Bodyguard 101?”
“‘Bodyguard 101’?” You repeated in disbelief at Rafayel’s ability to dramatise. “I must have skipped that introductory course in university.” 
“Well then, you can make up for the lost study with experience, starting right now.” His humorous tone waned, as he brought out his sketchpad. “Don’t worry about me, I was planning on doing some drawings anyway. I won’t leave your side.” The softness of his words reassured you. 
The mixture of crashing waves and light chatter from other beach goers had you sleeping almost immediately.
Rafayel had intended to do some drawings of the scenery, but he fixed his artistic eye on you, now finding a much better source of inspiration to fill his pages.
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hispg · 4 months
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Trying hard
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Pairings: ID! Leon X Fem! Reader
Summary: Your husband will not give up until you're pregnant. No matter what.
Wc: 2.2k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, worshiping, mentions of lactation kink, breeding kink.
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"Negative again?" Leon asks, watching you leave the bathroom.
From your crestfallen expression, he didn't need to think about much to understand that the pregnancy test had come back negative once again.
You'd been trying for three months, three months of unprotected sex at every opportunity. But so far your actions had yielded no more results than memorable nights.
"Yes, negative." You say with sadness in your voice, sitting down next to him on the bed.
He gently takes the test from your hands, calmly examining the result.
"Don't worry, we'll do fine." Leon says with a smile, bringing your hand up to his lips and giving them a gentle kiss.
You smiled weakly, looking down at your lap in disappointment.
You sometimes blamed yourself for thinking that you might have a fertility problem. But all the tests you had done didn't show anything, so maybe it was just bad luck.
"Don't stress your pretty little head about it, Hm?" He says to you, gently moving closer and giving you a kiss on the cheek.
You loved the way he was always supportive of you, and that he would never blame you for any of it.
"Do you think we can make it this year?" You ask softly, turning a little more towards him.
He chuckled, nodding at you, "We just have to try, one day it will happen."
The way he was so sure of you, you felt so safe with him.
"Come here." He proposes, spreading his legs and tapping his thigh, showing you where he wanted you to stand.
You nodded with a smile, mounting him and sitting on his soft thighs. And he promptly wrapped his arms around you, giving you soft kisses on the cheek.
"Have you thought of names?" He asks in a whisper, wanting to improve your mood somehow.
You mumble a soft no, clinging to him tightly. He knew you were controlling your tears at that moment.
"Shhh, it doesn't have to be like this. We just need to try a little harder." He murmurs, holding you by the waist while his other hand goes up and down your back.
"I feel guilty..." You say weakly, knowing from his sigh that he didn't like what you said.
With the hand that was on your waist, he lifted your chin, making you look at him, "Don't say that. There's no one to blame here, we're going to have a baby, we just need to be patient."
You pouted, and he, knowing you'd protest, gave you a soft, gentle kiss on the lips, shutting you up instantly.
Instinctively you wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the kiss with the same tenderness and gentleness.
You only felt his hands running down your hips, playing with the soft fabric of your nightgown. His touch was gentle, just light caresses over your clothes.
When he decided to stop the kiss, he let his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with big, gentle blue eyes.
"I love you, you don't know how much." Your husband says, soon pulling you in for another kiss.
This time he wasn't being soft or gentle, it was something more intimate, hot, his lips moving with yours sensually, making your body shiver with precipitation.
His tongue sliding into your mouth, caressing your own. The kiss got deep quickly, his hands finding their way under your nightgown, caressing your soft skin.
His calloused palms moving up and down your thighs, giving gentle squeezes, feeling how soft your skin was under his fingers.
A contrast to his rough skin.
"I bet you'll be the most beautiful mother in the world." He murmurs as he separates his lips from yours with a 'pop' sound.
"Do you think so?" You ask with a silly grin, you've already become more attached to the idea of getting pregnant than you should be.
"Positive." He says against your skin, his lips tracing your neck.
He made a point of mapping every corner of your skin, leaving wet kisses, holding off just a little longer so that you could feel his teeth grazing your skin.
You gasped softly, your breathing growing heavy with each kiss, each time his fingers kneaded your skin under your nightgown, sending shivers up your spine.
"I can already imagine." He says, trailing kisses down to the cleavage of your chest, holding you tightly by the hips to prevent you from moving.
"You, all round and pregnant. All swollen." His words vibrated against your skin, making you gasp with every sentence.
You could feel his stubble on your breasts, rubbing gently against your body. This was followed by his hot breath against you, and if you looked closely, you could see that he was salivating just looking at your breasts.
"And these tits here? Fuck, they're going to be so heavy. So full." He purred, pulling the top of your nightgown down, exposing what he wanted to see.
Your breasts bounced free, making him growl and bite his lip in response.
In the blink of an eye, he was stuck to you, sucking and nibbling on your breasts. He was latched onto the spot like a starving man, sucking you so hard that you could even feel his teeth on you.
"Fuck, imagine you leaking milk. Asking me to help you. And I'd suck out every last drop." He whispered against you, wrapping his tongue around your nipple, making you moan like crazy.
Unconsciously you started grinding against him, rubbing your wetness against his thighs, feeling his growing erection poking at your ass.
"You're going to feed me every night. Every. Fucking. Night." With that he left your left breast, not letting you breathe before moving on to the right.
You were already marked, the sweet bites of love staining your delicate skin.
"Leon, God..." You moaned, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him to your breast, making his nose nuzzle at you from how close he was.
And it didn't bother him one bit, you saw his eyes squint in a smile as his lips were glued to you, the sounds he made were as obscene as the scene before your eyes.
His tongue lapped at you, just as his hands held your hips tightly so that no matter how much you were squirming, you didn't move a muscle.
Once he opened his mouth, you knew what was coming. He traced your areola with his tongue, sucking lightly on your sensitive area.
Your mind was already in shambles, your panties soaked just from watching him feed on you like this. Feasting on every part of your body.
You could already imagine the image, Leon begging to taste your milk, wanting to know what it tasted like, the texture, wanting you to feed him every night.
Just thinking about it made you feel your pussy clench around nothing, making you let out a whimper at how excited you were.
He ravaged your nipple, sucking like a baby, growling as you slowly ground into him.
He could see your pink face, your panting breaths, you holding onto him so tightly, almost begging him to keep going.
And he was crazy if he didn't.
You could feel his grip on your hips tightening, you knew it would leave its mark the next day.
"Leon... Please." You pleaded with a little pout, clit throbbing for him to just fuck you.
You watched as he withdrew his lips from your breast, leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you.
"Please what? Mh?" he teases with a mischievous grin, rubbing his lips against yours.
You whimper, keeping your pout and looking at him with a sly expression.
"I need you. Please." You say slyly, rubbing your wetness against his thigh once again.
He moaned low, quickly turning you over and lying on the bed, climbing on top of you and planting kisses on your neck once more.
In this position you could see the wet spot staining his sweatpants, he was so turned on just thinking about you being pregnant. His mind was going wild with so many possibilities.
"You're going to be so beautiful, fucking beautiful." He says, taking advantage of the distraction to lift your nightgown up to your waist.
And once again you had him salivating, the lace panties that looked so beautiful on you. As soon as he saw it, he felt like ripping the fabric off with his bare hands.
You arched your body and gasped in response, holding back the urge to moan louder and roll your eyes.
But it all stopped when he found your clit, tapping it lightly before massaging your bundle of nerves.
"You're going to carry my baby. You're going to get all swollen because you're carrying my baby." He growls, kissing and nibbling your stomach.
As if to remind you how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you to carry his child.
His child.
"Yes, I'll carry your baby." You say shyly and softly, pushing your hips against his in a search for friction.
This made his eyes glaze over in anticipation, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. The idea was too much for him, it was all he wanted most at that moment.
A desire he was going to fulfill no matter what.
He then began to remove your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and off your ankles, then tossing them into a corner of the room.
And there you were, dripping wet, so ready for him, and you were like that because of him. Only him.
In agony, he removed his own pants, along with his underwear, his cock sticking out, drenched in his precum.
So red and flushed, the tip so swollen that it was painful for him. He then captured your lips in a sensual kiss, making you squirm and moan beneath him.
All you felt afterwards was him sliding his cock into you, shoving it all in at once. You were so wet that he didn't even have to do much.
As usual, your legs wrapped around him, his hips pressing into you all at once. You could feel the heat of his body against yours.
"I bet all you want me to do is fill that pussy, don't you?" He asked in a warm purr, slowly moving his hips against you.
All you did was nod in a sloppy way, he had you so full that you couldn't even think about anything. Just the sensation of paradise he was able to give you.
"So that's what I'm going to do, princess." He says this before giving a deep thrust, so deep you could bet he wanted to get as deep as he could reach.
He reached down to bite your neck, thrusting hard into you at a relentless pace.
One thing he had plenty of was stamina, you can believe that.
By this point he had given up on understanding any kind of language coming out of you. All that mattered was fucking you nice and hard.
All you could hear were his hips against yours, his balls slapping against you so hard that you rolled your eyes every time.
Your warm walls tightening around him was a clear answer that you were enjoying it, the way his cock was all wet with your fluids told him exactly what he wanted to hear.
He liked fucking you like this, in such a raw and dirty way, feeling you clench around him, your sweet moans entering his ears and making him grunt against you.
Or the tantalizing image of your breasts swaying as he thrust into you.
"Leon- Mh- I'm close." You say in a loud whimper, sinking your nails into his back.
"Go on, princess." He looks at you with a naughty grin, sending you straight into the edge.
You arched your body, crashing against his as you came, your cream dripping down your body, making a mess of the sheets and him, all he needed to start fucking you even harder.
"Good girl." He purred, slapping your clit lightly in approval.
He held you by the hips this time, slamming his hips into you, each thrust making you shudder. You held him tightly, as if you depended on it.
In and out, he took his cock out only to put it in again. Hammering his entire length into you.
You noticed when his thrusts became sloppier, him moving desperately to reach his own climax.
This time all you heard was his loud grunt, followed by a swear word that became almost inedible in the heat of the moment.
He sank into you in one powerful thrust, bottoming out and spurting all his seed. You felt that he was so deep that he wanted to hit your womb directly, just to be sure.
He let out a murmur of approval, lying down beneath you gently, but the peace soon ended when he felt his cum oozing out of you.
And he couldn't let that happen.
So he pulled out of you, getting down on his knees and pushing his cum into you once more, this time making sure that you didn't waste a drop, that you kept it all inside you as you should.
And he even smacked your tight pussy, murmuring a soft, "You did good."
You smiled under your breath, looking at him with tenderness. Your sweaty, tired expression said that you had enjoyed this as much as he had.
Despite the almost romantic moment, you could still see the lust in his eyes.
A silent message that you could already translate into your memory.
'Catch your breath, we're not finished for the night.
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lighteyed · 11 months
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you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington
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summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.
word count: 2.2k
author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls
He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.
"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.
"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.
He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.
"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.
You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"
He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.
You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.
"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.
"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.
"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.
The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.
At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.
"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.
"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.
The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.
When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.
He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?
"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.
"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"
"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.
"Are you sure? You don't have to."
"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.
As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.
"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."
"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.
"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.
"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.
"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.
He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."
"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."
"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"
"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."
His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"
Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.
"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.
The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."
He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.
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lymtw · 19 days
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Aftercare with Gojo where he focuses on kissing life back into your limbs after a particularly rough session with him.
He showers with you. No round two, no sexually stimulating touches, just him being as soft and delicate with you as he can. Satoru spends a lot of time reassuring you as he scrubs your body, telling you that you're just as pretty as you were before, even with all these marks on your skin, but, regardless of his words, he keeps scrubbing your skin, as if trying to bring back some of the purity it had before things got animalistic.
He requests that you stay as light in clothing as possible because he will be examining your body. Normally, you just stay in your underwear and a bra because with these examinations comes Gojo checking every inch of your skin. You get to lay back and relax while he thoroughly goes down your body, massaging your tender muscles and overall rehabilitating you.
He brushes his fingers against the dark marks on your neck and your chest, feeling the love that went into putting them on you to begin with. As his eyes trail down the rest of your hickey-littered, unobserved body, he realizes he loves you so much that it's taken a physical form on your skin.
You are not the only one who leaves scratches behind. Satoru does, too. He looks at your ribs, inhaling at the sight of four red, long streaks that trail from your ribs on each side, to where he can no longer see, on your back. He leans down and kisses the bright lines, like doing so would heal you in an instant. He does the same for the nail indentations he left behind on your waist and on your hips, kissing the aftermath of being so driven with pleasure that he had to take it out on your beautiful skin. He finishes up massaging your lower body. Your thighs, which were also bruised by his lips, your knees which had rug burns on them, and a thrown in ankle massage for the harsh grip he had on it before.
You feel like you're in another place when Satoru looks after you this way. Almost 90% of the times he does this, you fall asleep when he has you flip over to examine your back. This was one of those times when his touch felt so heavenly and light against your skin that you couldn't help but rest your eyes, resulting in your slumber.
Satoru's hands run down the expanse of your back. He undoes the clasp of your bra, not able to see the point where his scratches end until the material is moved. It's expected for you to leave these red trails behind on him, but he's in shock at the ones he left on you this time. He traces the lines, the slightly swollen skin warm to the touch, and his revitalizing kisses return to soothe the sting.
Satoru can see choppy patterns of his nail indentations on your lower back, a warm hand rubbing them to try to make them fade. He can hear your soft, rhythmic breathing now, a soft smile drawn on his features. He rubs little pressurized circles into your calves, watching you to make sure he's not pressing too hard. He ends the examination with some finishing touches on your achilles tendons and your heels.
"Baby," Satoru coos, laying on his side, facing you. You're still laying on your stomach, little puffs of air escaping your slightly parted lips. His fingers trail down your spine, past the undone clasps of your bra. "Baby..." he tries again, this time running a thumb across your shiny, saliva coated bottom lip.
"Mm..." you hum, not opening your eyes.
"You okay?" He asks his hand playing with your damp hair, softly.
"Mhm," you nonverbally confirm.
"Okay," he finishes. He turns his lamp off and scoots closer to you, his arm and leg draping over you like a makeshift blanket.
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rumisgf · 1 month
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“ATTITUDE PROBLEM” - bakugou x reader
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summary: a match made in hell heaven: a sassy man w a sassier gf. while you’re trying to be productive you end up getting annoyed with him, with how irritating he can be. but, your attitude is nothing new to him. katsuki definitely knows to- no, enjoys putting you in your place.
warnings: college!au, little to no plot, unprotected sex, degradation, dry humping, overstimulation, bakugou talks a lot, reader is black ofc, slight exhibitionism
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“what’s the attitude for?”
bakugou dragged you to his dorm after you being all pouty the whole day. it’s currently the afternoon and you’re supposed to be studying, but instead he decides to deal with you. you both studying together is never a good idea, simply because you both have a smart ass mouth.
“cause you keep trynna act like i’m stupid or somethin’ and we’re doing the same thing, won’t even let me check my phone without sayin’ shit.” you nearly mumble, purposefully to show you don’t even wanna explain yourself. he rolls his eyes and you smack your lips, making a “mmcht” noise. “‘n there you go.”
he looks at you, ready to open his big mouth. instead, he looks at you for a good few seconds. he examines your little stank face, your eyes looking at him with your fresh set of lashes done, his beanie that you stole from him on your head. your brat attitude at the moment. so fucking adorable… he thinks to himself as his eyes can’t help but catch your plump lips. “maybe if ya actually got somethin’ done i’d be off yer lil ass but ‘xcuse me.”
just as you’re getting ready to retort back, he cuts you off with a kiss before you can even speak. you stare blankly at him, trying to hide how easily flustered he can make you. but he already knows.
“now can we do this shit so we’re not clueless on our next patrol?”
“who is we?”
this earned you him rolling his eyes again, before swiftly lifting you out your chair and into his lap. “fix this lil attitude you got before i fix it for you, lil bro.” he says with a stern, yet not completely serious tone. he’s messing with you right now, but if you don’t stop he’s about to, how do you say, stand on business. “lil bro is crazyyy.” you reply in a fake annoying tone. just like he likes this, you like agitating him because you know exactly where it leads. no matter if you’re still annoyed or not you’re still having fun.
“and what if i don’t fix it, the fuck? you don’t scare me.”
with that you find your lips smashed onto his, his hands fiercely gripped the side of your face while the other is gripping your waist, moving you on his lap closer to him. “watch who you talkin’ to.” he mutters into the kiss. his voice is still calm, but much lower in tone and more serious. you smirk into the kiss, hands disappearing into his hair. you go to unbutton his pants and he grabs your hand. “nah, watch out.” he instead turns his chair and places you on his bed, climbing on top of you shortly after. his lips travel to your neck, and he revels in the soft noises spilling out your mouth. you can feel him biting down on the flesh, sucking dark spots wherever he wants. you can also feel him grow harder on your crotch through the fabric of your leggings. “kats-”
he stops, and looks down at you, so vulnerable for him already. “hmm? what happened?” he makes himself seem so oblivious, even though he knows exactly what’s he’s doing to you. he becomes even more amused when you start to chase him lips and softly grind on his erection, slowly becoming so needy for him. he simply laughs, then begins to pull down your leggings. his fingers brush past your clothed wetness and the smirk on his face grows wider. “that easy? ain’t even touch ya yet and you makin’ a mess through your panties?”
“shut up..” you can’t respond properly. any smart remark has flown out your brain through your ears, he won and he knows it. “just do somethin’ about it.” and he does just that. he pulls your underwear to the side, and his thumb finds your clit. you whine at his touch, feeding his ego. “like that?” you nod frantically and he chuckles, keeping a dreadfully slow pace that has you feening for more. he looks down, seeing your slick being to drip out your sweet cunny, landing on his bedsheets. “damn..” he sounds breathless, admiring what he caused. “so wet f’ me, princess.”
his hands immediately go to unzip his pants, and he throws off his hoodie. you instinctively slide off your underwear, biting your lip as you keep eye contact with the bulge in his boxers. “yeah take that shit off f’ me.” his voice is making you hotter by the minute. you look up at him puppy eyed, and he smiles at you. “what’chu want?” he asks tauntingly, already knowing the answer. “i need you now, please.” you whine, pulling him closer
he follows that command, pulling down his boxers. his dick springs out of them and you swear your mouth actually starts watering. his hands spread your legs wide open, and he begins to push himself into your sopping entrance. “fuuuck..” you moan, feeling every inch of him go in. he wastes no time pumping into you, hand placed on your lower stomach. “you still got an attitude? huh? you wanna be a fuckin’ brat? you- ah shit- you still wanna get smart with me, slut?” he looks down at you, looking at your closed eyes. you shake your head, leaning into the pillow. he can’t help but fall weak to how wet and warm you feel on his dick as he slips in and out of you. “look at me, baby.”
his pace quickens, thrusting harder into you while looking you straight in your eyes. you moan out his name and it sends him flying inside. “yeah… yeahhh take that shit.” his hand moves to your hips, pushing you down further onto his dick. “fuck, b-baby..i- can’t..” you cry, feeling the knot in your stomach form. but, he doesn’t care one bit. you were gonna stand on how you were acting. “take this dick, be a big girl.” he says, voice much deeper the second time as he presses his hand back on your lower stomach. his begins to pant with his thrust as he feels your walls tight around him. your hand tries to hold onto his stomach in at attempt to push him back, but you can’t even get yourself to reach because he’s too much. “uh huh, such a big girl. take it f’ me like a good lil slut.”
your moans grow louder as your orgasm begins to creep up on you. “kats i’m close- fuck!” you throw your head back in pure bliss. “yeah, you gonna cum? huh baby?” he grips one of your asscheeks and squeezes it. “yess…fuck kats i’m gonna cum..” you can barely speak through your moans. “mhm, let everybody in that hallway know who my little slut is.” shivers begin to flow down your spine as you begin to do what he has said and cream all over his dick, practically screaming and crying out his name as he continues to drill into you. this sends him over the edge as he chases his own high, leaning his body onto yours. he buries his face into your neck as he pounds into you, overstimulating your soaking cunt. “shit.. ah shit- fuck baby, i’m close.” strings of curses flow out his mouth into your ear. the combination of your lewd, near pornographic moans and your warm walls fluttering around him is almost too much for him. then, he starts to let out a sharp, low moan that lingers on as his orgasm comes over him. he pulls out, letting go on your stomach and moans becoming more breathy as his seed spills out in heavy loads.
he immediately shifts up off you, grabbing multiple tissues out the box he has on his nightstand. you’re still fucked out, breathing heavy and eyes barely open so all you can do is lay there as he wipes you off. after both of you are cleaned off with your underwear back on he plops over next to you, then pulls you on top of him. you both take a second to catch your breath, then he locks eyes with you. one hand finds your ass, softly massaging the skin while the other cups your cheek. “you’re a real brat, y’know that?” you look back at him for a second, then smile lazily at him “i know.” he smacks his lips and you giggle into his chest, purposefully unconsciously shifting on his lap. “stop playin’ before fuck the shit out of you again.”
spoiler alert, he did. about three more times actually.
© rumisgf
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