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#its a delightful voice to write in
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@fallenlondonficswap @the-dye-stained-socialite
For the general swap. Hope this brings a smile to your face!
A Confession of Whimsy
Clothes Colony & Elias Leroux, General/teen? rating, 1594 words. A Hallowmas fic.
There is no way that this could go wrong, it thought to itself.
A crown-masked reveller walked past the alleyway, singing in a deep voice that boomed like a foghorn, and startled it out of its reverie. It dropped to the ground instinctively, loose silks floating in the air as gravity took over. If anyone had bothered to look, all they would have seen was a loose pile of discarded clothing with a smiling devil mask sitting on top.
Alright. Perhaps there were some ways that this could go wrong.
The Clothes Colony rose only when it was sure no one else lurked nearby. It fussed with its fabrics, making sure each “arm” was well stuffed and that no “skin” was showing. A single wanderlusty glove could mean catastrophe, after all. London’s streets were not as friendly as Polythreme’s. Quite literally. It shuffled the mask back into an approximation of a face, even trying to line up some buttons behind the eyeholes to mimic the glimmer of hidden eyes.
A Perfectly Normal Human Person dressed in Hallowmas costume stumbled out of the alley. One shoe went backwards as they tried to lean against a wall and play it cool. A whisper of fabric travelled down one pant leg, and the errant footwear righted itself. They nodded politely to a couple of drunk young Bohemians, who did a triple take as they went on their way.
A seamless disguise indeed. They puffed up slightly with pride. Who would ever suspect them of being anything other than Human? No one, that’s who.
They made a show of looking around with their mask, because humans generally only see out the front of their faces, and then shambled in the direction that had the most excited chatter and music.
It was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen. People dressed in so many fine costumes (and how they ached to take pieces of them into themselves!), lights dazzled like polished cloak-clasps, and singing rang out from every corner. They were so overcome that they nearly floated away for a second. 
Oh, they simply had to talk to everyone! They turned to the person nearest to them, clasping their gloves firmly around hers. “We are so pleased to meet you! We have never been here be-fore!” They said loudly, and not entirely with anything that could be considered a mouth. The reveller squeaked in surprise at being grabbed and scurried off, leaving her glove behind as she slipped away. A gift! A lovely Hallowmas gift, just for them, how kind! Stuffing it into what could charitably be called their chest, they glanced eagerly around. Who could they greet next? 
"Hello good-day!" It called out to lithe person in an infant mask. "Happy Hallowmas!" The person perked up, obviously delighted to see such an impressive costume, yes yes! The person grasped at their devil-masked partner's hand and pointed in their direction. An introduction! The Clothes Colony shuffled hopefully towards them. "It is good to meet you!" 
"Good to meet… you… too?" The devil-masked reveller said shyly. The one in the infant mask elbowed him gently. "I mean, the pleasure is all mine! Happy Hallowmas." He corrected himself. The Colony reached out and shook his hand vigorously, arms flopping excitedly around with every shake. 
"Happy Hallowmas, and good-bye! We are so pleased to have met you!" They said, nodding hard in lieu of a smile. They would have loved to stay and talk more, but there were so many people to meet! So many confessions to give and receive! So much wine to drink? Probably not that. Too much risk of staining. They spun on one heel, errant shoe nearly getting dizzy again, and waved as they made their way back into the crowds. And to think that no one even knew that they were made of clothes! A master of disguise at a masquerade truly is twice hidden.
"Was that… what?" The devil-masked reveller asked, levelling a confused grimace at their retreating form. The infant-masked one cackled. 
"No bloody idea. Rubbery, maybe?" They said with a sharp grin. 
"That was not a rubbery person. Absolutely not." He responded. 
"Didn't look like there were bones in there, darling."
The devil-masked reveller shook out the hand that whatever it was had shaken. Their grip had been very firm, but weirdly flexible and dense. "Uh, no, no bones." He said. His partner crowed in triumph. "Dooooesn't mean it's Rubbery." He followed up. The infant-masked reveller groaned, and smacked his shoulder. He caught their hand and kissed it with a smile. 
"Alright, alright, fine." They said, rolling their eyes theatrically. "Still, that's a mystery that'll haunt me forever."
The devil-masked reveller swept them off their feet and they shrieked. "Not if I haunt you forever first." He teased, and carried them off in search of more wine as they sighed happily.
In the meantime, the Clothes Colony had amassed a little hoard of new parts and couldn't be happier. Lost gloves, a discarded silk domino mask, even a single scarlet stocking were eagerly added to their bulk. Someone had even stacked a hat on top of theirs! How lovely! But ah, still so much to do. They hurried onwards with delight in their chest. 
And promptly tripped and fell onto a fellow celebrant.
"Ah!" They said, voice flat but high. "Sorry, so sorry, we did not mean to-" 
A pleasant laugh sounded from beneath them before a mellow contralto voice came through. "Hey, it's okay, I promise! Are you alright?" The person asked, gently helping them back to standing. A loose crocheted baby sock clung to one of their wrists and they regarded it with amusement. "Here, I think this belongs to you." They said, offering it back to them. The Colony took it back carefully and led it back to its home in the thumb of their left glove. 
What a close call! But their quick thinking and masterful sneakiness once again had protected their identity-
"Apologies if this is forward of me, but," the stranger quirked a grin, "are you a Clothes Colony?" Their gant moth mask glimmered in the low light. 
Ack! Agh! How could this have happened? They had hidden their nature so perfectly, how could this stranger see through them so quickly? They shook their head emphatically, crossing what passed for their arms in front of themself in an ‘x’. "No, we are Human, what is a Clothes Colony, good-day to you, we-are-pleased-to-meet-you-good-bye." They insisted as they scurried backwards. A seamless cover up indeed. A flawless recovery. 
Until they tripped again, over the exact same cobble. They yelped and managed to right themself near-perfectly, except. 
Except for their backwards shoe, who realized too late what it had done wrong again and decided to cut its losses by just giving up entirely and walking away on its own. It was only after much hissing and whispering from the other garments that it sulked back into place.
"No, no, it's okay! I've met clothes colonies before, when I visited Polythreme." The celebrant explained. They perked up at that. This stranger had been to their home? "I always love meeting you all, you're so friendly. I'm Elias, by the way."
The Clothes Colony nodded enthusiastically. Yes, they were friendly! Very friendly! "We heard of a festival of masks and costume and secrets. We wanted to see for our selves and so we came across the zee to say hello and make new friends." It chattered. "The people here are nice and they think we are a people too because we have come in dis-guise! How did you tell otherwise?" 
Elias looked for a second as if they were trying very, very hard not to laugh. "You're about ten kilos sopping wet, my love." They said. "And really, no one has noticed?" 
"Not a single person!" The Colony proclaimed proudly. No less than a dozen people throughout the room were sporadically glancing at them in curiosity, confusion, suspicion, or all three. Most of that dozen were missing smaller pieces of their costumes. 
"That's… impressive." Elias settled on. They tried for an encouraging smile. "But if you're amenable, I do have an idea that might make things a little easier for you.” 
"Oh?" They said curiously. 
"You want to experience this festival as a human does, yes? And I'm a bit overstimulated from all the noise and touch. So, why don't we work together? If you understand what I'm asking." Elias said, a delighted grin tugging at their cheeks. "Only caveat is that I'll be doing the wheeling around. You can still talk to whoever you like, though." 
The Clothes Colony could have jumped for joy if that didn't risk their smaller articles of clothing going flying. "Yes, yes, you shall wear us! We shall roam these streets together!" They said, wasting no time in getting extremely cozy with Elias. 
"That sounds wonderfu- oh! Alright, oh my!" Elias laughed as clothing squirmed into place. Some of the smaller articles found a proper place on them, but most of the larger ones contented themselves with simply wrapping around them like a Tomb-Colonist's bandages. Elias gave a pleased hum as they were gently squeezed. It was surprisingly calming, like a full body hug. They no longer felt on the brink of an anxiety-headache. That was a relief. 
"We wish to play a game. Apple bobbing! We have teeth. With which to pick up the apple!" The Colony said excitedly. 
"Whatever you like, my dear." Elias replied with a smile, and wheeled on towards the game stands. 
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fandomregression · 1 year
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uhhh tim as a regresser? i know hes usually a cg in your fics but i kinda relate to him so much
while i see him mainly as a cg, thats mostly bc i want him to be my cg, but i absolutely see how he could be a regressor so rAMBLING TIIIIIIIME
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Regressor Tim Stoker Headcanons!
so tim starts regressing actually kinda young, in his early teens, because he's always lived in his brother's shadow. always been the second, despite being the older child, and its. hard. he pretends everything's okay and he isnt jealous, but he wants. needs. attention too
he learns what regression is exactly in university, and he kinda just shrugs and says 'yep that tracks' and pushes it to the side. let's bury that problem and deal with it later! that's a problem for Future Tim!
future tim is very mad and small, now. he spends a lot of time crying into his pillow and hugging his childhood stuffie, a little doggy named spot, until he falls asleep
he tries to basically never let dating partners find out abt his regression that doesn't seem like a good thing
a few of them do, and a couple try their hands at being cgs. they give up because tim is "too much" for them to handle
then danny dies, and tim spirals
hes just really, really not okay. he spends so much of his time trying to research what happened, trying to learn about the circus, trying to find anything that explains why his little brother is dead, and he can't figure it out. and he just tears himself apart over it. he's on the verge of regressing pretty much all the time, he's crying his eyes out all the time, and everything is bad. by the time he starts working at the magnus institute, he's a shell of a man whose head always feels like its swimming
then he meets jon, and he can tell there's something familiar in the ways he acts. tim's almost certain jon is a regressor, and well...he's nothing if not a good big brother. and he's a big brother who really, really welcomes this distraction from the fact that his little brother is dead
he does his best to keep jon out of trouble and take care of him, but he's well aware of his own headspace encroaching on all of this. its not easy. little things that tim does for jon are things that make tim regress, so its. not going too well!
until they meet sasha :)
sasha notices these two are a lil different pretty quickly. its become even more evident when they're researching a case, end up at a park, and jon and tim are playing on the playground like little kids
tim is very excited about this, and he absolutely climbs on top of the monkey bars and shouts for sasha
"sasha! sasha! look at me!!! :D!!!" "i see you! you're up so high!!"
she pushes them both on the swings, she pushes them both on the merry-go-round, and it feels just so natural to them
(tim picks her some dandelions and clovers, too, and sasha adores it)
after that day, when tim's big again, he realizes that sasha was able to actually play with both of them and pay attention to tim even though he was bigger than jon...sasha actually wanted to take care of *tim* and jon at the same time...and he didn't feel neglected...
(he cried himself to sleep again that night, but he wasn't sure why it felt so painful) (its the neglect trauma)
at work, tim basically just starts feeling a pull toward sasha a lot of the time, and he's terrified of being too much for her, but he...he needs this...
if he finds a cool bug, he takes a picture to show her. cool rock, he takes it inside and gives it to her. he likes to draw little doodles on his sticky notes and give them to her, and it absolutely makes his heart soar every single time she sticks them to her monitor. he's just. thriving off the affection
jon is the first one to explain regression, and he expects both tim and sasha to just push him away. he is absolutely not expecting tim to say he's a regressor too (how jon didn't notice? well...poor baby's not very observant...) and they're both not expecting sasha to just say "oh i know, who wants a juice box?"
both just. malfunctioning
tim does regress older than jon, usually around 6-8, and he takes his job as big bubby VERY seriously. he holds jon's hand when they do anything, he is always imparting his wisdom (which has been "red crayons taste bad" and variations of that multiple times), and he tries to let jon get more attention from sasha
sasha does not take too well to that last one. she notices pretty quickly that tim sacrifices himself for jon, and that just won't fly. so, extra hugs. extra kisses. lots of one-on-one playtime. tim cries a lot over this
then they move down to the archives and yay!! martin!!! now tim and jon have a mama and a papa and its even easier for them to both get the attention they need (especially tim, who doesn't feel as guilty when there's two cgs he can go to whichever one isn't handling jon)
tim has a lot of games he likes to play, and he has quite a few stuffies, but a lot of the time he likes playing nintendo with martin (and jon watches and tells him how cool he is)
sasha and martin both learn pretty quickly that anything circus/clown themed is very much a no-no with tim. if he's already regressed, its the quickest way to a panic attack he can get. if he isn't regressed, he will be very shortly, and then the panic attack happens
at that point its just...hugs and comfort until he can stop crying
when it comes down to it, he's just glad to finally have this sort of support system. to have multiple people who care about him and actually try
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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year
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okay that is all i can muster for tonight. my insanity will have to wait.
#AALV TSATS liveblogging#please just mentally picture me chewing on this book#luckily i dont follow too many RR blogs so i am relatively safe from spoilers *[STARES POINTEDLY AT ALL OF YOU]*#nobody send me spoilers i swear#ftr i am still taking literally everything in this book as Optional Canon#im enjoying the writing so far but. bro. you cant drop a major continuity error like that. its just blatantly incorrect.#and then say it's Totally Canon And Actually A Major Thing For These Characters IT DID NOT HAPPEN!!#IT PHYSICALLY COULD NOT HAVE!!#do not misquote the ancient texts to me witch. i was there when they were written#but Writing Is Decent. thankfully Nico's narrative voice is not as jarring as i was expecting#tbh he's actually written here kind like how i write him which is. delightful vindication.#also if we could STOP RETCONNING THE UNDERWORLD that'd be GREAT#will we ever get one trip to the underworld where it is consistent with literally any other trip down there? nope.#none of the details line up. none of the descriptions. ever. any of the times really. in any part.#youd think theyd make anything with Nico and the Underworld and Hades and their powers consistent for this book#based on the book tour is sounded like Mark sure tried#but like. yknow. Nico has a room in the underworld! in BoO his dad literally says ''Yeah you always have a place down here''#and theyre on good terms! also in BoO Nico uses dream powers! it's heavily implied he can inflict nightmares on people#we've known that since TLO actually#anyways. hrmhrhrmhrm grumble grumble#writing good. details i am biting. will keep posted#if yall do want my more unhinged thoughts i am also posting updates as i read in the discord#the ones im posting here are curated for your enjoyment
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eddie-rifff · 1 month
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uncommon opinion. ant phillips is the swaggiest member of genesis
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maythray · 1 year
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<- guy whos starting to get it now
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onlyswan · 8 months
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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yuutx · 2 months
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ! (𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒪𝑅𝒰)
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gojo satoru x f!reader ノ 18+ content. ノ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ノ praise kink ノ tit play / nipple play ノ size kink ノ creampie ノ squirting ノ multiple orgasms ノ tongue kissing ノ slight breeding kink ノ mdom + fsub ノ not proofread ! ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა
eeeee i jus' wanna say thank u 2 all of u beautiful people who r supportin' m' works 'n reblogging ! 've been feeling supa confident in my writing recently 'n seeing my works having s' many notes makes me rllie happy, so once again, huuuugeeee thank you ! art credits go to @/wrt_428 on twitter ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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Squishy walls squeezed around his pulsating length, milking the throbbing flesh for all its worth. Hot, slick skin slapped against his pelvis, the sound reverberating through the empty space. He could feel the warmth seeping into his groin, the slick surroundings enveloping his swollen girth, the tight ring of muscle clamping down on him, trapping his throbbing shaft inside its velvety depths. "That's it.. good girl.." He praised, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, his fingers kneading the plush mound. His thumb brushed over your pert nipple, his digits rolling the hardened bud between his forefinger and thumb, the harsher ministrations making you whine, the noise spurring him on, the sound going straight to his aching length. Your thighs quivered, the muscles clenching around him, the soft walls constricting, squeezing his member, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
"You're so good.. such a good girl, aren't you?" He cooed, his voice smooth, the tone dripping with adoration. "M' baby's a good girl, isn't she?" He asked, his hips rutting into yours, the motion making his balls slap against the underside of your ass.
"Yes.. y-yes.." You choked out, your hands grasping at his arms, nails digging into the toned flesh, the slight pain causing his cock to twitch, a bead of pre-cum dripping from the tip, the sticky fluid decorating your womb. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against yours, his lips hovering above your own. "That's right.. good girl.. pretty girl.." He purred, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, his nails raking across your scalp, the feeling making you whimper in excitement. His fingers curled around your locks, pulling your head back, his lips ghosting over yours, his warm breath fanning across your skin. You shivered, your mouth parting slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips, his length still pounding into your cunt. His tongue slid past your parted lips, slipping into the depths of your mouth, his lips crushing against yours, the grip on your hair tightening as he deepened the kiss, his hips slamming into yours. His other hand reached around, cupping your ass, his fingers gripping the flesh, kneading the supple skin, squeezing and massaging the soft mounds.
"Mhhhmmm.." Gojo hummed, his tongue exploring the recesses of your mouth, allowing his tastebuds to become acquainted with the delicious sweetness of your inner sanctum while simultaneously stimulating the nerves in his shaft. "Mmmm.." His lips curved into a smirk, the corners of his mouth twitching as he continued to assault your mouth, his hips driving into yours, his swollen girth burying and retracting from your cunt, an everlasting flow of pleasure washing over you, the sensation intensified by his kisses, the sweet taste of his saliva mixing with your own, the blend creating a delightful flavor, the unique concoction making your mind foggy. You could feel yourself becoming cockdrunk, the combination of his length slamming into your core, his fingers massaging your cheeks and his tongue ravaging your mouth becoming too much, sending you spiraling into a dazed state. The blissful haze made it difficult to think straight, and soon enough you found yourself unable to keep up with his movements, the pleasure overwhelming you, causing your limbs to go limp, your body going slack in his arms. You were powerless to stop the sensations from coursing through you, the ecstasy rendering you immobile, your body reacting involuntarily, pornographic squeals and moans bubbling from your throat, muffled by his lips, which refused to separate from yours.
"'toru! 'toruuu..!" You mewled, the vibrations of your voice rippling across his tongue, the pleasured cries almost musical, the erotic sound ringing in Gojo's ear. Your hips clumsily rolled and bucked into his, trying to meeting each thrust, your body moving without your consent, your hands clawing at him, desperately clinging onto him for support. Craze-driven movements, driven solely by carnal desire and instinct, caged his swollen girth without any restraint, the constriction pushing him closer to his climax. "M-mhh, s' f-fast-! 'toru.. 't-t-tooooo muh.. 'ttoo..! T-t-toooo fast..!" You cried out, squeezing him tight and digging your nails into his skin. The pleasure was unbearable, the intensity causing you to tremble uncontrollably, your body convulsing with every thrust. "AH, shit- babyyy.. s' tight.. you jus' gon' take it, huh? S' too good.. too good.. fuck, 't-too tight..!" A loud moan left him, the noise reverberating throughout the room, his sac getting heavier with each passing second. "Nnn, n-nooo..! Too m-muh.. too.. 't-tooooo..!" Your words were reduced to incoherent babbles, the syllables slurring together, your mind unable to comprehend the situation. You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you, the familiar feeling of release building in the pit of your stomach. It was too much, too soon, too fast, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, the only thing on your mind being the desire to cum. "''toru! 'T-toooru! 'Toouuuu-!" Your eyes rolled back, the whites of your sockets fluttering beneath your eyelids, your lashes batting erratically. "F-fuck-! 't-too fast- 't-toooo f-f-f-ast..! 't-too muuuuuuh-! c-cant take- take it 'nymore!!"
Gojo's eyes widened, the cerulean orbs shimmering with delight, a mix between a pant and a groan leaving him. "Nghh, shhh.. don't fight it.. g-mmm.. gotta give in.." He breathed out, his thrusts growing more urgent. "J-jus' relax, baby.. let me- mnhh, fuck- just let me fill you up..!" Words were spoken between laps of his tongue, the heated kiss never stopping, his saliva mixing with yours, the combined fluids trickling down your chin. "S-shit.. I'm gonna cum- m-mmh- gonna fill you up.. f-fill you- fuck- fuckkkk, gonna fill you up until you're s-s-so full that you're- uhh- fuck- gonna leak.. gonna- gonna drip.. mm, baby.. fuckkk- fuckkk, I'm gonna breed you- mnhh, gonna fucking- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck-" His hips jerked harshly, the movement causing your body to lurch forward, the abrupt motion making your back arch, the angle providing him with more leverage, his length hitting the deepest parts of your cunt, his tip nudging against your cervix. The unexpected sensation was too much, and soon enough you could feel yourself reaching your peak, screaming his name as the pressure burst, a river of juices flowing from within your cunt, coating his length. "H-holy shit- shit- s-shit- s-s-shiiiiiittt- 't-toorrrrruuuuu-!" You wailed, tears welling up in your eyes, your pussy clamping down on his member, the vice-like grip causing his cock to pulsate, a torrent of semen filling your womb, his load thick and hot. You could feel his essence pooling inside your pussy, sending you into overdrive, the sensation triggering another orgasm, a series of short bursts of liquid spilling from your slit, the squirt dripping down his thighs and onto the bed. You sobbed, the aftershocks rippling through you, your body convulsing, legs twitching and jerking as they tried to close.
Gojo kept you pinned down, his cock buried deep inside your cunt, the pulsating flesh spasming as it emptied itself inside your core, his hot seed painting your womb. He pulled away from your lips with a gasp, his gaze fixated on you, watching as your face contorted, the expression filled with bliss, the emotion displayed clearly on your visage. He groaned, his length still shooting thick ropes of semen into you, filling you to the brim, the excess fluid leaking from your pussy. "F-fuck, t-that's it- so pretty, so good for me- good girl, s-so beautiful- nnnhhh, fuck.. fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck-" A final wave of pleasure washed over him, his hips stuttering, his movements faltering as he came down from his high, the orgasm fading. "Mmh, fuck, that's my good girl.. took it so well, makin' me feel so good, s' fuckin' good.." He hummed, his head falling forward, his forehead resting on top of yours, his breaths heavy and labored. "M' such a lucky man, got such a good, good girl.. the prettiest girl in the whole world.. prettiest girl with the prettiest fuckin' cunt.. m' best girl.." He murmured, his words slurring, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Shit.. fuck.. pretty girl wanna cum again? Wanna cum on my cock? Make a mess, let me see that cute lil' face.." His length was still rock hard, his stamina far superior than most men, his libido unmatched. His cock throbbed inside of you, his seed spilling out, trickling down your thighs. He slowly pulled himself out, his girth sliding from within you, a mixture of his semen and your slick coating his length. "Come on, baby, one more time.. you can do it, can't you? Can't leave me hangin' like this.. gotta milk my cock completely, don'tcha?" He purred, his hand reaching underneath your leg, his fingers brushing against your pussy, the digits spreading your folds. "On top, baby.." He said, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit, the sudden contact making you yelp.
"Get up and ride my dick, show me what you got."
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sttoru · 5 months
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cuddling w choso as he gives reader small kisses around their face <3
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·.⌇𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. choso kamo x female reader. fluff; sfw. reader gets called ‘baby’. please take it easy on me bcs its my first time writing for this man t_t not beta read!
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choso is super clingy when he’s with you. when you try to leave your bed in the morning, he pulls you right back. back into his warm embrace so you wouldn’t suffer from the cold temperatures. you don’s protest and simply allow yourself to be dragged back into the arms of your beloved.
“choso, tickles.” giggles leave your lips as choso plants several kisses on your skin. they’re those ticklish yet sweet ones—the feeling of his lips grazing gently against your cheeks makes you smile. your lover takes his chance once you speak and places a few more pecks on your prominent cheekbones.
he hums, a low sound reverberating through his chest. choso refuses to let go of you. his hands are firmly holding you down by your waist. his eyes are closed like he’s enjoying every second of this, “sorry. can’t stop.”
and he truly cannot. it’s like your body was a magnet—pulling his in by simply being near him. your fingers play with the black strands of choso’s hair while he leaves a trail of kisses down your jawline. it’s soothing to him. nearly makes him purr in content. he can’t help but give your chin a swift, small lick.
“hey!” you pout and try to wipe the saliva off. there is a humourous glint in choso’s eyes—your adorable reaction being exactly what he was aiming for. his hand interlocks with yours, pinning them above your head. his thumb rubs yours gently while his eyes scan your face.
choso grins once he targets another spot, “one more. promise it’s the last one.”
a famous excuse you hear all the time. your lover leans in and his lips attach to the skin between your brows. a delicate kiss that causes your body to shiver in delight. as much as you want to start your day, you also wouldn’t mind staying in bed. especially when choso is being this affectionate.
he pulls back, his tongue darting out lightly to run over his upper lip—from one side to the other. your heart flutters at the sight, your fingers moving his bangs to the side. it reveals that look in choso’s eyes; the yearning one. the one that shows you just how much he loves and craves to touch you.
“hmm,” choso’s voice was raspy. he looks smug with that grin tugging at his lips, but the light pink hue on his cheeks gave him an innocent look as well. “don’t be angry, baby, but. . .”
a silence falls between the two of you. you flutter your eyelashes in response, not knowing what choso is going to confess. his grip on your hand tightens, his other free hand running up to keep your chin upwards, exposing your neck to him.
“i may have lied,” choso mumbles before he buries his head into the crook of your neck.
you squirm a bit. his tongue swipes along your throat, his lips following that same trail. you expected this to happen. no matter how many times choso claims that a kiss would be 'the last one', it never stops there.
“hmph. liar,” you scold, though chuckle right afterwards. you can feel choso smiling against your skin, enjoying the jokey banter between the two of you. he could be a little too playful every now and then. you love it.
the black-haired man never stops his gentle caresses or kisses. he’s absolutely infatuated by you and is not afraid of showing it, “hehe, you can't blame me. you’re just so..”
choso pauses and thinks hard about a word—a word that describes you perfectly. he hums in thought and pulls his head back to look down at you. his eyes meet yours and his heart beats faster at the way you stare at him.
the look you give choso causes him to malfunction a little. he forgets to complete his sentence. instead, he goes for another kiss. on your lips directly.
you let out a small, muffled noise of surprise. your arms encircle his neck instantly to which he responds by squeezing your body tightly against his. the kiss continues for a couple seconds before choso reluctantly pulls away for some air.
his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. his cheeks are redder than before as he leans in close, almost going for another kiss. before his mouth lands on yours again, he completes his earlier sentence with a subtle smirk;
“ . .cute.”
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hungharrington · 11 days
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what about jealous steve…
ok it’s not quite jealous steve, more like possessive steve but that’s cos i half wrote it and then came back and i’m not wasting precious writing <3 ok mwah as always, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
You and Steve split up for all of 10 minutes before he’s back at your side, one hand sliding into your back pocket, kissing the side of your head in hello.
The kiss burns lightly where it's pressed into your hair. The usual party music dwindles in the background, playing from the other room.
“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, voice all low.
He ducks his head low to press another kiss to your skin, this time against the heat of your neck. You squirm at the sudden attention and smile apologetically at your friend, almost flustered, and turn to him.
“Hi,” You smile up at him through your lashes. “What’s that special greeting for?”
“Nothin’,” Steve hums, smiling back, even as his hand in your pocket gives a little squeeze. He’s got that flush he always gets after one or two beers, colouring his face.
He gives you a little tug sideways, towards him. “C'mon, I wanna talk to you.”
You huff a laugh but follow him all the same, leaving with a quick wave to your friend over your shoulder. Steve’s hand slips from your back pocket to tangle with your hand and he leads you through the living room and out to the hallway. Doors line it and Steve seems to know exactly where he’s heading.
“Sure,” You laugh a bit, on the adoring side. “We totally came to this party so we talk to each other—“ Steve pushes through one of the doors, revealing an empty bedroom. “— in an empty bedroom.”
Behind you, the door snips shut. Steve turns and steals a glance at the drink in your hand, plucking it from you without any warning.
“Hey!” You say, as he puts it down on a surface behind him. “I was drin—oh,”
In one fluid motion, Steve steps in and backs you up against the door, one hand settling on your waist. The other curls beneath your chin, cradling your jaw and you barely get a moment to gasp before his lips are on yours.
Hot and desperate, Steve kisses you like you’re a feast for him to devour— fierce kisses, little nips, adoring little noises as he finally gets his lips on you like he’s been dreaming of all night.
You make a soft noise in your throat, a sound of appreciation. Your hands travel up to rest on his chest, fingers twining around the collar of his polo.
Pulling back, Steve’s delighted to see you already look a little messy — your lips pinker than normal, your eyes wider, darker.
“Really?” He asks, his voice low and teasing. Steve leans in and kisses your neck again, in the same place he did put in the living room. His breath is hot against your skin when he murmurs against your skin? “You didn’t think we’d end up here?”
Something in the gravel of his tone makes your back arch, something warm thrumming within you as Steve begins to suckle the skin of your neck. Fuck, you think, beginning to pant, Of course he’s going for a hickey.
“I- uh,” Your voice is already soaked in a sigh, your fingers clenching over his shoulders tightly as pleasure begins to drool through your core.
Steve continues before you can even answer his first question. His hand on your waist moves, shifting down til he’s grabbing at the apex of your thigh. His fingers dig into the swell of your ass, cupping it so he can pull you forward — right as his thigh slots between yours easily.
“You think i could come to these parties,” He breathes, moving your hips for you. “with you, looking this fucking hot,” You pant beneath him. “and not need to leave a mark?”
Following his word true, his hot mouth reattaches to your neck, sucking with fervor this time. His hand on your ass moves and finds its place in your back pocket again, squeezing and dragging your hips forward once more.
The other shifts down squeeze at your chest, his deft fingers rubbing over your nipple with eased practice. You moan prettily, rutting down against the denim, the friction downright sinful.
Your hands have a mind of their own, still moving up, and now they twist into the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s moves on to a new spot on your neck now, further down, and you’re helpless to do anything but let him.
Something in your cunts throbs at the possessiveness. You could very happily do this all night. The ambience of the party just behind the door slips away almost completely.
Steve pulls back after a couple of minutes, lips sheened with spit, his hair a mess from how you’ve been dragging your hands through it. His heavy eyes drag slowly from your marked up neck down to where you’re still grinding onto his thigh. His cock thickens in his jeans.
“Fuck,” He sighs, the sound rough in his throat. He moves his other hand down so he’s holding your hips, dragging your hips forward at his own, controlled pace. You nudge against his hard on with every motion.
“You don’t do this for anyone else, do you?” He asks, a dash of a smirk on his face. Smug. Possessive. Adored with you. You shake your head, each of your breaths lilted with a moan.
“Just you,” You say, knowing what he wants to hear. You know your boyfriend, so you know exactly why he’s pulled you in here and marked up your neck— and it only fuels your lust. “Only you, Steve,”
Steve’s cock twitches in his pants, his breath catching in his throat.
“God, fuck this party,” He mutters, diving in to capture your lips with his. You’re both so riled up, the kiss strong and hungry from both sides.
He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull back, forehead pressed against yours. “Let’s ditch this place. I can’t let you go out there looking like this.”
You huff a laugh but are inclined to agree. “You’re the one who made me like this.”
“I know,” Steve says. “But now I might be giving people ideas.”
That makes you laugh— the perplexity of his reasoning. Boy logic, you suppose. Your arms around his neck tug him closer, stealing a kiss.
“Better get me home then, huh?”
Steve grins, knowing exactly what’s waiting at home—and kisses you with the promise of what’s to come.
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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i desperately need to write more stories that are safe for third graders
#i can't keep reading them the diner fic with replaced names#i should finish up that script i was writing at work for basically this express purpose actually#we had six kids today and i'm at the location where we usually get *zero* kids#they were all very active kids n i think they were all friends from school#two of them took interest in me early on (as happens with groups of kids who feel comfy) n so they ended up chatting at me a lot lol#anyway they got bored n so i was like 'let's make up a story!' and they ACTUALLY said yes but since i couldn't find/grab paper fast enough#i ended up handing one of them my tiny notebook n a pen so that she could write bc she was the most insistent#surprisingly she didn't look through it which is totally what i would have done always and forever#anyway since i have like two hobbies that are secretly just one (fandom + writing = fanfiction) it's inevitable that kids#learn that i write as a hobby which makes it more inevitable that they ask what about#they're too young to be interested in romance novels (this is an observation not assertion) n a too simple to understand like#the emotional nuance i put in. well it probably depends on the kid but as a group lol nah#anyway i obvs want to indulge the kids in art and encourage them to take genuine interest in other people's lives#but most of my writing is not targeted at kids with some things being just straight up inappropriate for their age group#hence: the diner fic is usually what comes out bc it's recent enough to be good writing; it has no overt romance; and it's just a fun story#OH maybe the ONE chlm fic i wrote would work since it's pretty short and it's comedy#but anyway. i think i might need to write a few stories actually geared towards kids at this rate bc even tho stuff like diner fic#isn't *inappropriate* for their age they're still not its target audience n they deserve to have good n whimsical stories directed at them!#also as usual w/larger groups of kids one of them took notice of my queer features which is always delightful to me#one said i look kind of like a boy from the back to which i said 'good!' n when i did some silly voices another said i sounded like a boy#to which i once again said 'good!' n so they asked if i was a boy or a girl to which i said 'i'm whatever you want me to be'#they also asked if they could call me 'mrs. [hua]' which is probably the only firm no i ever gave them bc i am not married#and even if i was i actually thought abt this the other day bc rn i like 'mys' (short for 'mystery')#n if i got married i'd want it to still be 'mystery' long hand BUT. get this: *'mtr'*. pronounced as 'MISTER' :D#still thinking abt the abbreviation tbh so maybe 'mytr'? lol that looks like martyr#anyway they found me after i was waiting to get picked up n asked if i *really* wrote what i was reading to them earlier#n i was like 'yes?' n they were like 'are you suuuuure?' and i was like 'YES?!???' n i'd have said 'bitch what the fuck'#if i hadn't already mastered the art of not swearing around little kids#花話
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ghouljams · 6 months
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Friend.
Viking!Ghost with a huge wolf-dog.
Or, even better : shepherd!reader with a huge wolf-dog, or two ; big, ferocious babies who absolutely love the guy, smothering him in kisses and floof every time he visits his darling. Huge balls of fluff who are absolutely delighted when he picks both of them up as if they were still puppies. Reader falling a little bit more in love with him every time she catches him interact with them, gently talking to them as their tails wag and wag and wag. And Ghost who has to suck in a breath when he finds her asleep in the barn after she spent the night helping one of her sheep give birth, the two dogs acting as really big and warm blankets, along with all the other sheep ; just a huge pile of snuggles that won’t let any kind of cold wind through. Just utter cuteness, and the huge, powerful viking is smitten.
My period has been acting up since yesterday, and last night was a nightmare. I’m a little bit better, but I can’t eat otherwise it’s gonna start all over again. I am not hurt, I AM the hurt. I really wish I had a big doggo or one of my cats to snuggle with, or a partner to help with the panic attacks this shoot always comes with (or all of those, I need warmth and cuddles and love).
I wanna write, by I can’t, because brain not braining properly. So I’m imagining fluffy scenarios while listening to the rain outside.
The birds are singing in harmony with the rain. It’s a cozy melody.
Lots of love, Friend.
Mii, out (like a light, soon, probably).
You're getting used to the visits. The giant of a viking that hovers just at the edge of your fence, watching like he's got something to say only to turn away when you ask him to say it. The dogs like him, galloping over to the man every time his shadow crosses your fence. They wiggle and jump like puppies, pushing their big paws against his chest and stretching long with their heads back, the only man that hasn't been bowled over by them yet. You can't blame them for their affections.
Your guest scoops up one of them and cradles the overgrown mutt against his chest. Your dog, for all its ferocity, licks at his mask like the tamest pup in a litter. You get your flock settled before making your way over. It's a fair assumption the viking won't walk away with your dog, so you're guessing he's worked up the nerve for a conversation. You manage to get all the way to the fence, though he takes a step back when you lean against it. You switch your attention to the dog still on the ground and scratch under her chin. Her big eyes stare sadly up at you, as if you could pick her up like the viking.
"Ghost," he says, and you're struck by how rich his voice is, deep and smokey as a dwarves cavern, "you can call me Ghost," he explains, apparently having realized his attempted start at a conversation wasn't going to go anywhere.
"There another viking hidin' his face like you?" You ask him, the introduction is lovely (if a little awkward) but everyone in the village knows Ghost. Or, they know of him. Nobody really knows him. You figure that's what the mask is for.
"Suppose not," he replies, and there's a touch of humor in his voice you hadn't expected. It makes you think he's smiling. Somehow that makes your cheeks feel hot. Strange.
"What do you need Ghost?" You ask, leaning against the fence. He leans to put your dog down, and the other one goes to nose his hand. He scratches her head lightly before straightening up.
"Just came to pet the dogs," he tells you. You smile. "No show this time?" He asks.
"No wolves," you nod towards the pasture, your flock safe and sound as they graze. Your eyes land on the wolf fang sewn to his leather. It's familiar enough to make your heart squeeze. You wish he'd come for you.
-
You're not out in the pasture, or answering the door when he knocks. It's early but Ghost didn't think you'd be that sound a sleeper. Fucking hell it's early, he shouldn't even be here but he wanted to see you before he left and- and he couldn't stop himself. He was delaying leave for his own selfish desired, but he couldn't stop himself from coming out to your little pasture. He had no excuse for it, nothing he could tell you, but he didn't want to talk to you he wanted to see you.
These are two different things.
He wanders around the fence you've put up, sturdy, well maintained. He wonders if you fix it up yourself or ask someone else to do it. You could ask him, he'd fix it for you. He'd fix anything for you. As long as it was you asking, he could do anything.
He stops outside a little covered barn, the hay leading into it is fresh, the doors slightly ajar. It's a good bet if he's ever seen one. The hinges don't stick when he inches the door open to look inside.
One of your dogs lifts its head from your lap, and stares at him, it's fluffy tail wagging softly against the hay. You're asleep, of course you're asleep. Sprawled over the hay, your dogs cuddled around you, the rest of the sheep settled to huddle close to their shepherd as well. You're surrounded by thick wool and wirey dogs, hardly bothered by the animals and straw as you sleep through the wee hours of the morning. You don't even look cold.
Ghost unhooks his cloak, the black leather and wolf's fur feeling ominous in such a pastoral scene, and drapes it over you like a blanket. Your dogs sniff it inquisitively, nosing it until he pushes their heads away with gentle pats. He tucks the fur against your neck and strokes his knuckles against your cheek. You're so beautiful, soft and vulnerable even under your fangs. He would have taken you to bed last night if you'd let him. Stayed up to watch the ewe and her new lamb while you curled up under the pelt blankets to sleep. How safe must you feel? How safe would he feel?
His thumb strokes against the fur and he stands. You'll still be here when he gets back, maybe not in the barn but here. In the village, in your pasture, right where he knows he can find you.
And hopefully, you'll be wearing his cloak when he does.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️
Crazy For You || LN4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four
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It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.
Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends. 
Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late. 
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”
“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”
“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”
Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar. 
“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.
“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”
“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”
“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”
You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.
“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie. 
The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it. 
“Thanks.”
“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”
“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.
“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”
You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”
“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”
“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back. 
“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car. 
“I thought you meant…”
“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”
Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”
Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”
“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”
Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”
“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”
You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”
“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”
 “You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him. 
“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”
“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”
He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”
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The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.
You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.
Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end. 
“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”
You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.
“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes. 
He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”
It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.
“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.”
You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”
You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”
“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”
Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”
“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”
“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”
You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.
A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet. 
“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”
You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock. 
“The presents!” 
Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”
Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.
“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”
He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”
“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”
“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”
“If you’re sure…”
He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”
You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”
He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”
“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”
“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”
“You weren’t that bad were you?”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”
You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”
“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”
Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light. 
“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”
“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
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It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.
It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.
“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.
“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”
“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”
“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”
“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”
“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”
You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.
“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.
“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”
You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”
“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”
“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat. 
“That’s not mine, obviously.”
You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”
“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”
“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.
“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”
You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.
“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”
“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”
He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”
You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.
Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”
“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”
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Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze. 
Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.
Bang, bang, bang.
The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”
You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”
“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”
“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”
“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth. 
“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion. 
“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”
“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”
His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away. 
“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“You are fucking insane!”
“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?” 
You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.
“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”
“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”
“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”
“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”
You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.
“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”
“Me?” you shrieked.
“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”
He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”
Click here for the next morning.
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midnightcrw · 7 months
Text
Crying
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Pairing: Dad!Simon Ghost Riley
Summary: Taking care of his crying daughter
a/n: This really isn't my best work, but I still hope you all will like it. By the way, I've become a bit obsessed with Jason Todd lately, and I'm thinking about writing something about him (only if you all are interested, though)
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"Come on, angel. Don't cry," Simon whispered softly, cradling Daisy in his arms. She had a fever, and it wasn't getting any better.
Daisy's face was flushed with a light pink hue as she continued to cry and wail, but Simon held her closer, his heart aching for his little girl.
"Shhh... Calm down, Daisy," he cooed, gently rocking his daughter, trying to ease her distress.
"Hey, look at me. It's gonna be alright. I'm here," Simon assured her with a comforting tone, his face filled with sincerity.
Daisy's cries started to quiet down, though she still whimpered. You weren't at home, leaving Simon and Daisy all alone in the house.
Simon planted a soft kiss on Daisy's forehead. "That's my girl. You're so strong..."
"How about I call Price?" Even though he knew she probably wouldn't understand him, he still said it out loud as he reached for his phone.
Price was the one person she adored. Whenever he was around, Daisy would become calm and content.
As he dialed the number, Price's face showed up on the screen, slightly off-frame as he struggled to get the right angle, but he was there.
"Did something happen?" Without a formal greeting, Price spoke, knowing Simon wouldn't call him unless it was urgent.
In an instant, Daisy's cries ceased, and she began to coo quietly. Her face was still red, but she was noticeably calmer.
"So that's what makes you stop crying?" Simon mused in a gentle voice as he watched Daisy's eyes fix on the screen, eager to see Price.
The moment Daisy saw Price on the phone, her face lit up with delight.
Simon chuckled at the heartwarming sight and moved the phone closer to his daughter. "Here, Daisy, say hi to your Uncle Price."
The moment the phone was within reach, she grabbed it. Her tiny hands held the phone tightly as she gazed at Price's face, while Simon smiled warmly.
Daisy held the phone so close that only her eyes and her little forehead were visible, making Price laugh.
Being a father had its challenges, but moments like these, seeing his daughter smile, were his reason to keep moving forward in life.
After all, he wasn't alone. He had the TF141, and he had you.
That's all he needed.
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brainrot-of-a-thot · 16 days
Text
sloppy toppy.
or, you suck their soul out for the first time, featuring: sakura haruka, suo hayato
c/w: explicit sexual content, oral (m!receiving), sloppy blowjobs, deep throating, throat/facefucking, cum swallowing, premature ejaculation (sakura cums fast), language, dirty talk, fem!reader, headcanon blurb format
a/n: mmmm a spicy req! as a girly who loooves giving head, I really really enjoyed writing this <3 I hope y’all will enjoy it too. I’m trying to get some of the shorter reqs done in between writing the longer ones~
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shit. fuck. holy shit-fuck. shit —
sakura couldn’t fucking think. your mouth was hot, so fucking hot — and your tongue was soft and mushy, teasing the underside of his cock sloppily with every drop-and-slide of your head. sakura was already so close and you’d barely even started.
sakura couldn’t even feel his fingers or toes anymore, all appendages curled up and tense. the pleasure was overwhelming, every schlick and slurp of your lips over his dick threatening to send him spiraling over the edge.
“hah, s-slow down… please.” sakura grunted out, voice husky and broken. you were moving way too fast, gulping his dick straight into the tight sleeve of your throat, your nose burrowing straight into the hairs just above his base. it was too much, too tight and too warm, he was gonna cum soon —
how had this even started, anyway?
he couldn’t remember.
sakura’s hips jerked when you hollowed your cheeks on an upward slide, a dangerously lewd slurp accompanying the action, and when your lips reached his sensitive tip, stars bloomed across sakura’s vision as his balls twitched harshly. the pressure against his cockhead was so intense, and when you slid the tip of your tongue through his slit, it was over.
“c-cumming—” sakura tried to warn you, really, but his voice broke off into a loud, guttural moan as his balls tightened painfully — his dick twitched and throbbed as thick ropes of cum shot from his tip; which your lips were still wrapped around.
sakura nearly whimpered when, in the middle of his orgasm, you shoved your head down to engulf the entirety of his cock. his tip squeezed past the resistance of your tonsils and slipped into your throat, which the rest of spend was splattered down. you kept your mouth fastened around his cock until the waves of his orgasm had receded, until his dick began to fall limp on your tongue — and sakura’s entire body twitched and trembled when you pulled off of his cock with small pop.
had sakura had any energy left in his body, he would have been heavily embarrassed — he hadn’t exactly been focused on the clock while you were sucking his soul out, but he was sure he’d lasted less than a minute — but his muscles were too relaxed, his mind too fuzzy from the absolute brilliance of the orgasm that he couldn’t find it in him to feel any shame.
and when you crawled up his body and looked into his eyes with a predatory gleam, something told him that his fast orgasm was something you took great delight in.
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“you really can take it well.”
suo sounded rather calm, his tone even and relaxed, but on the inside — suo was going absolutely feral.
your throat was accepting his cock as if it was made for it; like a warm, wet, mushy crevice that was crafted specifically for his pleasure. suo was rather impressed with himself for lasting so long within its grip. it was taking every ounce of his self-control to keep his orgasm restrained, his balls tight and achy and tingling every time they slapped against your chin.
god, how were you so perfect?
especially like this, shoved down to your knees, face flushed and wet, pink lips spread wide on his cock, eyes hazy and unfocused as you looked up at him with an expression that could only be described as blissed out.
you were built to please him — that’s what your eyes were saying.
“ah, so good. so messy.” suo cooed as he dropped a hand down to cup your chin — he could feel the bulge of his cock stretching your mouth in all directions, and shit, that was doing something to him. drool and pre slid down his hand in a thick mix of fluid, and he knew; he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.
suo retracted his hand from your chin and instead cupped the back of your head, holding it still as he rutted his hips faster. your throat clenched around his cock as your shoulders rocked with muffled gags — fat tears rolled down your heated cheeks as your gag reflex was repeatedly triggered — but you stayed perfectly still, not even attempting to retreat from the abuse. in fact, your eyes seemed to grow even hazier, as if being robbed of your air supply was something that turned you on immensely.
god, fucking perfect for him.
“you’ve been such a good girl. how about I give you a nice reward, hmm?” suo drawled, fingers tangling into a fist within your hair. “how about I cum down your throat, and put it all straight into your greedy belly? how does that sound, sweet baby?”
suo didn’t think it was possible, but your blown pupils seemed to morph into hearts right in front of his eyes, and the flush on your face deepened. your head floundered in what could only be perceived as an attempted nod, and suo couldn’t hold back the groan that flew past his lips.
and when your throat began vibrating with sweet muffled moans, suo snapped.
suo brought his other hand around to the back of your head and spread his feet apart just so; the change in stance enabled him to shove the entirety of his cock down your throat, and his thrusts grew short and shallow. at this point, he was barely even removing his dick from your mouth, and his hips snapped into your face at an inhuman speed.
“fuck, yes, I’m close,” suo panted, hot pleasure sparking up his spine with every slide of his cock. your throat was so hot and tight, it felt like absolute heaven. “I’m gonna give it all to you, so don’t waste it, ‘kay?”
your moans vibrated his dick, and the combined stimulation was just too much — with one harsh thrust, suo buried his cock completely in your throat. his balls tightened up, his dick throbbed, and with a series of moans, suo shot his load straight into your stomach.
suo gently rocked his cock into your mouth as he rode out his orgasm, words falling from his lips unbidden; “…yeah, suck it all down baby. shit, it’s all yours. so good, angel…”
a faint tap on his thigh broke suo from his haze, and when he looked down into your eyes, he realized he was still cutting off your air supply. as delicately as he could, suo slipped his cock from your mouth. you let out a slew of coughs and drew in heavy breaths in between them; suo would have felt horrible about it, but before he had the chance to, it was stolen away completely and replaced by a fresh wave of arousal when you stared up at him with watery, pleading eyes and croaked out:
“can we do it again, please?”
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sanguineterrain · 2 months
Note
Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭
Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?
hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol
dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words
****
You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.
"My love, you almost ready?"
You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.
"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."
The door opens. Your heart swoops.
Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.
Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.
And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.
"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."
He's lying.
That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.
You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.
But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.
You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."
“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."
Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.
Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.
You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."
“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."
You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 
****
The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  
You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 
He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 
Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—
“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”
You're exhausted. 
“Uh-hmm.”
He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 
Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.
“Dickie!” 
Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 
Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.
When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.
“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”
“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”
“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 
“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 
She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.
Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.
"This is my partner," he says about you.
Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."
You nod. She turns back to Dick.
“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 
“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 
Dick and I go way back.
Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 
“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”
“I feel sick,” you announce. 
Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."
You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.
Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.
Your feet start moving.
"Baby—"
Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—
You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.
Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.
Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.
You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—
"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"
Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.
"I need to break up with you," you blurt.
"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"
You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.
"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"
"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"
"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"
You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.
"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.
You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."
"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."
"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."
Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"
"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"
"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"
"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."
"Wh—that's not true!"
"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"
Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?
"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"
And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.
"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."
"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"
"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."
"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"
"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."
You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.
His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.
"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"
His heart beats against your cheek.
"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."
"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."
You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.
"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."
He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.
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cindylcuwho · 5 months
Text
“ your recent pics ★ “
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— ★ matt sturniolo x afab! reader
★ ) summary ; matt couldn’t help but enjoy himself to your recent instagram pics .
★ ) warnings ; sub-ish! matt, jacking off, semi-pervert behavior if you squint, imagining you in certain scenarios, dirty talk, half- phone sex but not really . not proof-read so please msg if spelling error or i missed a warning !
★ ) madds note ; i think i went off topic and there’s boring parts all over so apologies in advance- i tried my best but writing smut is so awkward for me 😭😭
— matt couldn’t help it. the pics had been posted, and a million other people had seen them.
— matt immediately noticed how your body, your curves, fitted perfectly into a lavender silk dress. you were posing in the mirror with a wide smile, the same smile he has seen dozens of times as you’d swallow his cum
— matt couldn’t help with the thoughts, i mean could you blame him? you were the finest woman he has ever been with. he was obsessed with you and even more with your body
— other people had thought of you like this, this had been confirmed in a cut clip from the car videos where he and his brothers were reading fan fictions and nick found a juicy threesome involving you two.
— would it be a big deal if matt had touched himself to your recent photos? it’s not like he’s a stranger, he knows what’s underneath the silk, and knows it’s all for him. practically owned by him.
— matt could feel himself growing the more he stared. it didn’t make matters any better that you two were doing a steamy call earlier, the sound of your delicious moans rang through his head. god, if matt were with you he could’ve sucked those moans into his throat, taking pride in being the one to cause them as he thrusts into you.
— giving into his sinful thoughts, matts hand slowly slithered its way down into his sweats, tugging the slightest bit at his hard on.
— his movements were a copy of what you would do, only less enjoyable because he had to do it himself.
— matt finally slid his hand into his briefs, letting out a quiet hiss, grabbing his cock with a firm squeeze.
— matt let out moan after moan, teasing himself with the way you had before. sliding his hand up and down his cock before squeezing the tip.
— his hand was covered in pre-cum. it was a delightful sight, something you would’ve begged to take a picture of.
— fuck, you begging. images of you on your knees, begging for matt to throat fuck you. you on the bed, saying nonsensical blabbers that contained “please” and “put it in me”
— matt fastened his pace, bucking his hips up as if you were on top of him, taking all his inches like the good girl you were.
— just as he was on the verge of orgasming, his phone rang. a call from you, how ironic.
— “ baby, whatcha doing right now“ your raspy post-nap voice didn’t help matts situation.
— matt could barely respond. he didn’t even bother to stop his jacking session, his hand only going at a slower pace.
— “ i- uh-“ he let out a whine as his fingers rubbed against his now overly-sensitive tip. you instantly picked up on the clue, a small smile crept on your face as you pictured matt all pretty and laid out on his bed.
— “ hm, maybe i should come over then? ” you teased. you had already slid slippers on and were looking for your keys as you spoke.
— matt only whined more at that, his way of showing he would’ve loved if you were there.
— “put your phone next to it, i wanna hear you get off “
— matt did as told, moving his phone down next to member before hurriedly rubbing on the member up and down.
— “ what were you thinking about baby? “ you knew the possible answer, but still wanted to hear the words leave his mouth
— when nothing other than whimpers left his mouth you repeated your sentence, only harsher.
— “ your- fuck- your recent pics ” he quickly raised his phone, swiping back to instagram to get another peek at the pic before resting it next to his shaft again.
— “ awe, you like them that much you had to take care of yourself without me? ”
— matt could hear your smirk, but didn’t care.
— “ i’m gonna cum- can i come, please ple—“ matt began blabbing out pleas, not wanting to let even a drop spill out without your permission.
— it was like fireworks has bursted when you gave the okay. matts chest heaved up and down, his hips slowly bucking into nothing as streams of warm white liquid landed on his stomach.
— “ please say you’re almost here- i’m already hard again thinking of what you’re gonna do ”
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