#Anyways I'm pretty happy with what I wrote
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livianstingypotato · 1 year ago
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So my brain juices started flowing...
-
Aziraphale threw open the doors to Heaven's head quarters.
"WHERE ARE MY LETTERS!!!?"
"We did not want any distractions in our plan of action" said Uriel.
"HOW DARE YOU!!!!! I AM THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL AZIRA-"
"So was Gabriel" Michael chimed in.
Aziraphale glared at them. "Where are my letters?" he threatened them, "Order every angel. I want my letters NOW!!"
"We don't have any angels at hand at the moment" Michael said wryly.
"What do you mean?" Aziraphale narrowed his eyes.
"Haven't you heard the trumpets?" all of their heads shot towards the direction of the voice as the Metatron walked in through the gates and stood in front Aziraphale, "Armageddon has already begun."
Aziraphale's eyes widened, "no........Crowley!"
He immediately took off leaving Michael, Uriel, and the Metatron behind.
-
Aziraphale soared through the skies making his way to the bookshop. Below him only views of destruction.
Cities flooded, washing away thousands. The earth cracked as building toppled over each other. Crops dying, waterbeds drying.
He could see the 4 horsemen in the distance, making their way to wherever they were going. All around he only heard cries for help. People begging, screaming for mercy.
But none of that mattered as the demons rose and the angels descended. The bloodbath had already begun.
He needed to find Crowley.
The bookshop finally came into view. He could see Crowley standing behind the one of the pillars.
Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief.
"I was so TERRIFIED," he exclaimed, "I've been writing all these letters and Heaven just DISPOSED of them and I-"
Aziraphale's gaze met with Crowley's beautiful, yellow, lifeless eyes. An angelic spear pinning him to the pillar behind.
"Crowley?" he asked with a weak smile.
He stood there, impatiently waiting for a response that would never come.
He took him in his arms and cradled him tightly as tears started rolling down his cheek.
Aziraphale cried and cried and cried until his vision went dark and his mind went blank.
-
Aziraphale's eyes shot open.
He couldn't sense anything around him.
He looked to his left, to his right, to the top and to the bottom.
He saw nothing.
There was no Earth, no Heaven nor Hell.
No stars, no nebulas.
No Crowley.
Only one lonely angel remained, cradling themselves, in the void.
what if in season 3 of GO when they reunite and yk argue
aziraphale says to crowley
“you never responded to my letters”
and his voice was very hurt and sad about it
and crowley replies with
“what letters ?“
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doodlingwren · 1 month ago
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The brainrot is speaking... I need to create a side account for my DnD AU of Saint Seiya or I might turn evil for real this time
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sysig · 1 year ago
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Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)
#Doodles#Law Abiding Citizen#LAC#LAC Russ#Doug Peterson#It's funny 'cause the post that houses the tags that inspired this train of thought was not that long ago right?#But in real time it's been about a week and a half since I wrote those - which means I had a bit to stew on them before jumping in hehe#Russ in solitary appealed to me too much to just leave alone#Much like Doug to Russ! Lol#There's also something about drawing him in an orange uniform that's Something hmm ♪#I always feel like I set them down for just long enough to forget how to draw them lol#Well the idea wouldn't leave me alone no matter what so here they are anyhow! Haha#Honestly even to the point where I've considered doing a big write about it hm hmm ♫#But for as long as I'm toning them I'll be happy to show off my process doodles lol#They're too sparsely posted! Fix it!#It does feel indulgently dark but that also aligns with them and their whole Deal - they're rather flexible on that front :)#They can be silly and they can be serious! I am kind of ignoring timing-and-placement vis a vis who says what went lol#It's part of the indulgence hehe#Anyway! Lol#I feel like Russ would be pretty quickly shunted out of sight of everyone if any of his abilities stayed intact#''He keeps setting shit on fire - nobody can figure out how! He doesn't have a lighter!''#Bad behaviour! You're not going to be released quickly if you keep that up!#Just stick him in a box and don't worry about it anymore#Why doesn't Doug help him break out? Where's the fun if he starts as a criminal? Where's the challenge of corruption?#No it's just an excuse lol ♪ They both kinda just overlook Russ' time in prison in canon it would defeat the purpose to here#What new adventures will they get up to :3c
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glow-in-the-dark-death · 7 months ago
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To Be Wooed
I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.
Enjoy!
Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.
Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker
But it was!
Really it really was!
Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.
Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.
Anyways! Not the point!
Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-
THUMP
Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!
"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"
"You killed him?"
"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"
"Go on a date with me."
WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.
Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.
Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!
Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.
Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.
So he should just do what feels natural to him.
"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"
"...For me to wear and use. Yes."
~
Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!
Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"
~
Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"
Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"
Joker: "Whut-"
~
Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*
~
Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"
Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"
Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"
~
Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.
~
Jason and Danny's relationship basically:
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#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other
#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny
#Danny almost swooned
#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude
#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-
~
Just an Idea
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ratstuckinamarble · 1 year ago
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BREAD??? I'd be honoured. Thank you ๑ï
5 am is the best time to get the drill out and hang stuff up because it's when the walls are at their softest
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reiderwriter · 5 months ago
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I'm Your Fluffer!
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader (best friends to lovers)
For @imagining-in-the-margins FWB Challenge!
Prompt: "I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." "Do you want the benefits?" "Yes- No... I'm your fluffer!" (Inspired by New Girl) (yes, I suggested this prompt, bo idc if that's cheating)
Warnings: Mentions of BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, choking, mentions of spanking, and butt worship, slight Dom Spencer, bratty reader, creampie. The classics, yk.
A/N: I'm back!!!! I took a break because I couldn't bring myself to even look at a word document for about a month, but there's nothing like a Pom challenge to get me writing again! I did have a lot planned for my 1 year anniversary, but because I was sick, and then busy, and then work got hectic, I had to put it off. I still am going to try to finish my kink bingo Carr, though, even though its a month late, but I had two fics left iirc, and I have both of them plotted, so I may as well! I will, however, be abandoning the final epilogue of I Can't Help Myself, because I wrote myself into a depressed corner with that one, and honestly, some people were getting very pushy about it, and it wasn't fun anymore. Anyway! This one was fun to write, so I'm going to stick to one shots for the foreseeable future, or incredibly limited series.
Masterlist
Spencer was your friend. A good friend. Your best friend, perhaps. A really good, very best friend.
Obviously, you were good friends because he always knew when you were feeling down. He bought you flowers regularly when he passed by flower shops. He came over to your place and helped you build every piece of flatpack furniture you had, which, as a single woman in your mid-twenties, was every piece of furniture that you owned.
You really looked forward to the movie nights the two of you had weekly. The popcorn, the blankets, the cuddling, his lips by your ear, in-time translating the foreign movies word for word as you watched it, the shivers down your spine as you pressed further into the heat of him.
Spencer was the best best friend you could ask for.
He was also the most frustrated.
“Kid, what are you doing this weekend? I'm thinking of hitting some clubs, you know, getting my groove on, maybe meeting A few ladies,” Morgan smirked, rubbing his hands together as he gently moved side to side, already dancing to himself as he anticipated his big weekend out. “You in, or are you in?”
“I can't. I promised Y/N I'd help her with some document digitalisation. We're going to order pizza and watch Star Trek while backing up her entire paper trail.”
The smile on Spencer's face was so stupid that Morgan had to stop himself from wiping it off of him immediately.
“Man, you are so down bad for that girl,” he mused, shaking his head.
“What? Down bad?”
“You like her. It's okay to admit it.”
“We're friends. I'm happy being friends,” Spencer said, picking up his bag and walking to the elevator desperate to escape a repeat of a conversation he'd already had three times that week.
“You know everyone thinks you're dating.”
“Well aware. Despite the number of times we've both stated to the contrary, people don't seem to accept ‘we're just friends’ when they hear it.”
“That may be because you're doing things that just friends don't do.”
“Everything we do is totally platonic.”
“You buy her flowers-
“I buy my mother flowers,” Spencer said, turning on the man and raising his hands in exasperation.
“You know that's different. Do you buy Emily flowers?”
Silence.
“What about JJ?”
“I bought JJ flowers!” He grinned triumphantly until the other man spoke again.
“When she was in the hospital. Giving birth. Okay, what about the movie nights?”
Rolling his eyes, the younger man walked on, pressing the bell for the elevator and allowing his friend to keep bothering him.
“Friends watch movies together, Morgan. We've watched movies together, are we dating?”
“One, you are not my type, pretty boy, and two, you didn't exactly have your dick pressed against my ass the entire time we watched a film now, did you?”
“Be q- be quiet. I don't have my dick against her ass ever.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, was it pressed against her stomach instead? I know she likes to lie on top of-”
“Derek!”
The elevator arrived, and the two quickly jumped in, to Spencer's relief.
“All I'm saying, kid, is-”
“Hold the elevator!” You shouted, running to it quickly with Penelope Garcia on your heels.
“Thanks, Spence!” You said, smiling at him as you entered the small space.
And continued your not too unsimilar conversation with Penelope.
“So, as I was saying Penelope,” you shot her a look that told her you were finished with the conversation. You were not dating Spencer Reid, and you were unlikely to in the future because of his total and complete lack of interest in you.
“You can set me up this weekend, right? It's been an age since I've been on a date, and I would really like to-” you glanced around the elevator and whispered the end of your sentence, suddenly mindful of your company. “You know.”
“If you're absolutely sure, I have a few men in mind that could throw you about, but-”
You squealed and squeezed the woman as the elevator landed on your floor and jumped out of the elevator quickly, cheeks burning.
“Thanks, Pen, you're the best!”
“Y/N, wait,” Spencer called out behind you, desperately holding the elevator open for a few more seconds.
“I thought we were doing your papers this weekend? Star trek, pizza, remember?”
You stared guiltily at the floor as you forced your voice to sound as casual as possible, not sure you could make any excuse that didn't sound pathetic.
“Oh, sorry, Spencer. I totally forgot. We can rain check, right? I… I really need this.”
Spencer was aware of what disappointment felt like, but it never hollowed out his chest like your lack of eye contact in that moment did.
“Yeah. Sure, of course. We can do that whenever.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Spencer. You're the best… friend.”
He smiled and let the door finally shut, aware of the two sets of eyes now watching him.
It took a surprisingly long time for the ‘I told you so’ to come, but come it did, as if Morgan were unable to help himself.
“You're telling me that you're not into her at all?”
“I'm…not into her like that at all.”
“And you're fine with me setting her up on a date with a man that'll do somewhat empowering, somewhat disgusting things with her?” Penelope piled on.
“What? That's…that's not my business,” he ground out.
“No. Of course it’s not. Because you're not her boyfriend.”
“Exactly, I'm not her boyfriend-”
“You're her fluffer.”
With a pat on the shoulder, the elevator hit its last stop, and Morgan exited, leaving Spencer scrambling after him as Penelope waved the two of them off.
“What? No, what's a fluffer?”
Morgan chuckled and waved him off, walking to his car.
“Come on, what's a fluffer, and why am I hers?”
“You've seen porn before, right?” The older man asked, pausing as he opened his driver side door. “Actually don't answer that. The fluffer is the person who keeps the actors and actresses… ready between takes. Prepares them for the good stuff.”
With a bright flush across his cheeks, Spencer tried his best for an indignant look, landing somewhat closer to a petulant child.
“I am not her fluffer. We have never-”
“I know you've never. If you had, we wouldn't be standing here right now having this conversation. What I'm saying is you should.”
“We're friends!”
Climbing into the car and closing the door, Morgan dismissed the younger man quickly, but he wasn't finished.
Knocking on the door, Spencer waiting a beat, then two for it to open again.
“I'm not her fluffer.”
“You build her furniture and cuddle with her. You're doing everything a boyfriend would do, without any of the boyfriend rewards.”
“What rewards?” he gasped, exasperated.
A single look was all the reply he got before Morgan out his keys into the ignition and started driving.
Spencer never made the decision to turn up at your house later that night. He just found himself all of a sudden at your front door on a Friday night, pulling out the key from the plant pot by the front door and letting himself in. Unlocking his shoes, he called out through the apartment, letting you know he was there as he slipped into the house shoes you'd bought him after the first of many movie nights.
“Spencer? We cancelled earlier, remember?” you said emerging from your bedroom, fitted in the tightest dress he'd ever seen you in. He already had no answer for your question, but seeing you like that, getting ready, he had no answer to any question at all. If you'd have asked him his name, he wouldn't have known it.
Well, he would've, but only because you'd said it only three seconds ago and had reminded him that he was, in fact, standing in your apartment when he should've been literally anywhere else.
“Um. I'm…I'm just-” he scratched the back of his neck, waiting for something to come to him.
“Spencer, I'm leaving in like an hour, so there's no time to watch a movie, and I have to get ready, so-”
“I'm… I'm angry?”
You raised an eyebrow at his questioning tone, unsure where this conversation was going.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah..yes. I'm sure. I'm angry. We, we had plans, and you gave me like an hours notice and cancelled them to go do something stupid-”
“Spencer! I'm going on a date. That's not stupid.”
“It is when you have me!”
He half shouted, half murmured the words, as if he himself were unsure of how confident he was in making that statement.
“That came out wrong-”
“Yeah, I think it did.”
“What I mean is- I mean…Morgan said that-”
You crossed your arms and sat yourself on the arm of your sofa, looking forward at him and waiting for him to get through whatever this was. You hoped the entire time that he was saying what you'd wanted him to say for the last year and a half.
“Have you ever watched porn?”
Not what you were hoping for, but a start, at least.
“Spencer!”
“That came out wrong, I- don't throw the couch cushions at me. I have a point, I swear!”
You lowered your next projectile and gestured for him to go on, not fully relinquishing it just yet.
“I'm your fluffer! I get you…in the mood for dates, and- and- I do all the boyfriend stuff without any of the boyfriend benefits!”
He stood in front of you, red-faced, and you stared him down a second or two as you collected your thoughts.
“Do you…want the boyfriend benefits?”
“Yes! No, wait - wait a second. I- I- What are the boyfriend benefits exactly?”
You threw the pillow down and turned your back on him, not entirely sure what you were expecting from the most oblivious genius on the planet.
“Y/N, wait. Wait-”
With a hand wrapped around your wrist, Spencer spun you around, and, tripping over your feet, you landed hard on your sofa. Your fall should've been relatively pain-free, but for the 6-foot man that landed directly on top of you.
“Get up.”
“What are the boyfriend benefits?”
“You should know if you're saying you want them! Now, get up!”
“Not until you tell me.”
“Spencer!”
“Y/N!”
You groaned and writhed under him, but he just dropped his weight onto you, unmoving, hands pinning your wrists lazily, leg poking between your two, hips pinning yours.
It certainly wasn't the closest you'd ever been, but in those circumstances, during that conversation, you felt more flustered than you had before.
“What are the benefits.”
“You really want me to say? You're not afraid it's going to throw off our friendship, ruin whatever good thing we have going?”
“I think that if you go out tonight, and enjoy your date, and get a boyfriend, that he's going to feel weird about this good thing we have going and it's going to be over anyway. Tell me.”
You desperately searched for a way out of this situation, but a stronger part of you wanted to simply wrap your legs around him and let him take as much advantage as he could.
You settled for disturbing him.
“Fine. A boyfriend would be able to spank me.”
“Y/N, be serious.”
“I am. I like it. A boyfriend would pull my hair back and make me count as he hit my cute round ass until it turned all red, and I couldn't sit down comfortably anymore. A boyfriend would then kiss it better.”
You'd never spoken about sex with Spencer, and you hoped the vulgarity would force him back to his senses. Instead, he didn't stir, and you had no choice but to continue.
“Another boyfriend benefit would be choking me. I like that, too. Are your hands big enough to wrap around my throat, Spencer?”
“Yes.”
The answer came so quickly and do confidently, you weren't sure you actually heard it outlook until he spoke again.
“What other benefits, Y/N?”
“A… boyfriend would get to cum inside me,” you whispered, suddenly aware of hips rocking into yours slowly as his cock poked up, listening intently to the promises spilling from your lips that you likely should've regretted.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I want the benefits.”
Your body was hot everywhere he touched you, but he didn't move, didn't follow through on anything just yet. But you were aware of his head moving closer and closer to yours and panicked.
“And what have you done? As my fluffer? To deserve those benefits?”
“What have I done?” He asked, pulling back an inch. Even as his chest rested, flush against yours, your breasts pushed up against him as his hands held yours over your head.
“I-I bought you flowers-”
“Emily buys me flowers, too. So does Penelope. Should I let them be my boyfriend?”
With your hands in use, you took advantage of his distraction and wrapped your legs up and around his waist, rolling your hips up into him.
“I suppose I do like flowers, though. What else?”
“I… We're always t-together?”
“We work together.”
Using the leverage of his weight against yours, you rolled up harder into his hips, grinding into him slowly as you watched his resolve melt away.
“The m-movie nights are-”
“The movie nights where you rut your cock into me while we watch a movie? Friends do that all the time. You're just translating the movie for me after all.”
“Y/N, please don't-”
“Don't say that? Okay. I'll just let someone else hump against my thighs to get off because you're too proud to admit you want to sink your dick into me and pound me?”
“Y/N-”
“Maybe that's why you don't have the boyfriend privileges, Spencer. Because I'm waiting for something, you're too much of a prude to try-”
His lips meet yours before you can finish the thought, and you're not sure whether it's a triumph or a defeat.
After precisely five seconds of his lips on yours, though, you no longer cared.
Releasing your hands gently, he lifted his hips an inch, distracting you enough to force his tongue into your mouth as his hand found its way between your legs.
“Did you really mean it?” He asked between kisses as you rake your hands through his hair, getting lost in him. “About the benefits?”
You allowed yourself to imagine it for a second, Spencer's hands on your throat. His hands on your ass. His mouth buried between your legs.
You moaned into his kiss, and he laughed - actually laughed - as he pulled away.
“Spencer!”
“No, no, please, don't let me keep you from your thoughts, I'll just be down here.”
His fingers reached your clit and he wasn't surprised to find you already wet, legs spread. Snaking another hand to your neck though, he wasn't exactly as opposed to the ideas you'd flung at him as he'd acted.
You gasped as his hand closed around your neck, the prettiest necklace you'd ever worn. You grabbed a hold of his hands as he pulled your underwear off, pushing them down your legs as he gently pushed your legs open wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.
You curled up on yourself, craving your body to watch him devour your pussy as you tried your best to keep your breaths shallow, to keep breathing entirely as he squeezed your throat.
His tongue licked and flattened, his head bobbing up and down and then stilling as your hips began moving by themselves, letting you ride his face as you moaned and whined and desperately ran towards your climax.
You wrapped a leg around his shoulder, pressing down on his back to keep him in position, grabbing a handful of hair as you jerked against his face, fucking it as he looked up at you through hooded eyes, drinking down every drop of you.
His hold on your neck tightened, and you felt your body shudder as you squeaked out his name, not wanting this to end so soon, needing to feel more of this. He let you ride it out until you were whining in frustration again, hips twitching from the friction of his tongue against your cunt.
Then he pushed away.
He wasn't gone long, but you followed him up. You thought about pushing him down to the couch again, thought about sitting on his pretty boy face and doing it all over again. You thought of turning over and presenting your ass to him, letting him punish you like you'd promised. Your thoughts ceased as quickly as they came when he pulled his cock free of his pants, not even bothering to pull them off fully before pulling you into his lap, lining himself up, and pushing you down onto his hot, hard, lengthy cock.
You swear you would've screamed if his to guess hadn't already claimed your mouth. A good scream. A “holy shit holy shit holy shit” scream. Definitely a “I didn't know it was that big, and honestly I'm a little scared” scream. But overall, a “god that feels so good” scream.
From the lack of movement, you were sure that Spencer was giving you a moment to adjust to his intrusion, and you were thankful as you clung to his neck, hands balling in the material of his shirt on his back.
Although he was bigger than expected, he wasn't uncomfortably large, and you calmed quickly, giving him a quick nod as you buried yourself in his neck, hiding your face to stop yourself from drooling, mouth wide as he tipped you back against the couch pillows, lifting your legs slightly and slipping his hands underneath yous thighs, and began his steady pace of thrusts.
You were sure your world was imploding on itself, that all your senses had ceased except that of touch, and his touch was fire. But you heard the wet, slutty sounds of your pussy welcoming him, you smelt the sweat against his skin, and, opening your eyes, you saw the absolute pleasure blasted against his features as he groaned in your ear.
And before you could form another coherent thought, he'd claimed another boyfriend benefit, as, rocking his hips against yours, he slowed to a stutter as he emptied himself inside you.
“Spencer!!” you moaned, but he wasn't done, spitting on his fingers and finding your clit again as you squealed, twitching and turning and milling his cock with your movements as you found your second release.
You moaned his name again, though it sounded less like his name this time, and more like a definite noise complaint from your neighbours in the morning.
“Spencer?” you asked, still trying to regain your breath as he, once again, collapsed on top of you.
“Mhmm,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mess you'd made together drip out too, and resisting the urge to push right back into you and go again.
“Was that a friendly fuck, or a boyfriend fuck?”
His eyes snapped to yours again as you continued.
“I just want to give Penelope the correct reason for cancelling on her friend when I text her-”
“I came inside you.”
“So you did.”
“Y/N!”
“.... So that wasn't a fluffer thing, but a boyfriend thing, got i-”
With a kiss, he shut you up again, and you realized quickly that you probably wouldn't have the time to send that text anyway.
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alllgator-blood · 18 days ago
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'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'
(part 3/3)
I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.
As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january
Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.
I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.
That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."
Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you
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luvkyu · 3 months ago
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makeup ( hong seunghan )
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seunghan needs help doing his makeup
content : 1k words, male reader, fluff, boyfriend!seunghan, gamer!reader, light kissing, reader calls sh baby
note : i needed a break from working on the mingyu fic so here's some fluff :) i also wrote this in second pov - i usually write in third but i think i might start using second more!
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"help."
seunghan dropped a bag of makeup in front of you, a few items spilling out onto your desk.
"with?" you asked. he frowned when you didn't look up from the game on your computer. you seemed tense and focused in your dimly lit bedroom, wearing your expensive looking headset.
"you do makeup better than me," seunghan explained, nudging the bag toward you. "i'm meeting some people at a club tonight and i wanna look good."
"hey guys, i'll be right back," you spoke into the mic of your headset. seunghan smiled triumphantly. he could hear the faint groans and protests from your friends, but you paid them no mind and looked up at your boyfriend from your seat.
"what people?" you asked. you poked around in the bag a little before looking at seunghan again intently.
"eunseok and sohee. and they said there's some other people coming that i haven't met before."
you nodded and smiled at him. "that sounds fun."
seunghan nodded eagerly, "yeah, i'm excited!"
you liked seeing seunghan all happy and jittery. he didn't go out very often unless it was with you, so you enjoyed seeing him make more friends.
"let me go get my brushes."
seunghan nodded again, watching you walk off to the bathroom. he could still hear the voices of some of your friends talking through the headset that now laid on your desk. he grinned and put it on while taking a seat in your chair.
"hi guys!"
"is that seunghannie??"
"yes, hi!!" seunghan smiled widely at the sound of shotaro's voice. after almost four years of being with you, he'd grown to love your friends.
"thanks for taking y/n away from us!" anton joked sarcastically.
"sorry, what can i do? he's obsessed with me," seunghan replied.
"and who wouldn't be obsessed with you, baby?" you chimed in as you came back to the bedroom.
seunghan smiled at that response. his eyes widened a little when you were suddenly right in front him as he sat, your eyes gazing at him lovingly. you leaned down farther toward the mic while keeping your eyes on him.
"i'm actually just gonna log off, guys. i'll talk to you tomorrow," you spoke. the complaints and shouts of your friends were disregarded as you gently took the headset off of your boyfriend. you could practically hear his heart beat through his chest beneath you, making a tiny smirk curve on your lips. you finally broke eye contact to look at your computer instead. you closed the game and turned the system off completely.
"you didn't have to leave, it won't take long to do makeup," seunghan assured. he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt and tugged on it with a frown, but you shook your head.
"i was getting tired anyways."
"mm, okay.."
"so what do you want me to do?" you asked as you began setting up. you sat on the edge of your bed and pulled the chair he stole from you closer.
"i was thinking something kinda subtle-ish, but i like all the pretty details you do."
you smiled, "alright, i can do that then."
seunghan sat and watched you begin to lay a thin layer of foundation on his face. he felt like he was in a trance. he found you mesmerizing.
"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.
"sorry, i'm just.." seunghan felt himself blush a little. "you're really hot," he blurted out.
you stifled a laugh and continued to blend the makeup onto his skin.
"says you?" you counter back.
"shut up." seunghan smiled and looked down, a reflex of his when he felt like he needed to hide himself.
you gently took his chin and lifted it back up. "i need to see your face, baby."
seunghan nodded and closed his eyes. he let you continue your work for a while while he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. it was a nice, comfortable quiet in your bedroom. seunghan loved enjoying the little things like this with you.
when his eyes opened again, they were locked on you instantly. his gaze shifted to your lips numerous times, but you were paying too much attention to the makeup to notice. eventually your face inched closer to his, and he took the chance to place a quick kiss on your lips. you were a bit taken aback, but immediately broke into a smile.
"listen, are you here to make out or get your makeup done?"
seunghan laughed at your question. "is both an option?"
"no," you replied. "because once we start kissing too much then you will not be going out tonight.."
seunghan watched as you leaned away from him on purpose. he smiled mischievously and ran his hands along your thighs.
"well that's fine too! i don't have to go out tonight."
you shook your head and chuckled. "no, you haven't hung out with your friends in forever. go out and have fun."
he pouted dramatically. "you won't be worried about me meeting new guys?"
"nope."
"what?? i have so much rizz game, you should be worried."
you snickered at his bickering efforts before giving in and awarding him with one more kiss.
"i'm not worried because i trust you."
seunghan shut up at those words.
"okay, that's really sweet.." he muttered. "but what if i wanna stay home with you now?"
"tell you what," you said. "you go out and have a good time with your friends. drink, take stupid pictures, meet some new people. i'll even come pick you up if you really want to leave early. and then tomorrow, we can do whatever you want."
seunghan sighed. "promise?"
"i promise."
"fine."
"good," you replied happily. "all done now. go have fun, baby."
"thank you, y/n."
"of course. call me if you need anything, okay?"
seunghan nodded with a dorky smile. "and you call me if you start to miss me too much."
"oh, i will, hannie. don't worry."
seunghan grabbed his bag and pranced off to leave your shared apartment, but not before rushing back to kiss you one more time.
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patricia-taxxon · 3 months ago
Note
Sorry people are being hostile in the notes of your recent AI post! Your points are really interesting and I hadn't thought about it like that (referencing the "..."it's theft" isn't a good argument when much of the greatest art to ever be made is also largely theft" part)
I agree with what you're saying about theft/ creative use of someone else's stuff (or even un-creative use of someone else's stuff, looking at John Williams fully ripping off Holst in the imperial march)
But something about generative AI still rubs me the wrong way though (re: taking people's work), and your comparison has made me question more specifically what it is that I'm uncomfortable with. I think it's the lack of intentionality behind the theft? Coming at this as a composer, if someone stole like, a melody I wrote, I would be happy that they had thoughts & ideas about the thing I made & interested to see what they did with it. I think the thing about generative AI that I don't like (on a personal level) is the lack of intentionality, like, both not knowing if my work had been fed into the training data + if someone rips me off it wouldn't be a choice they made specifically, but just a thing that mysteriously happened.
Idk if I'm making much sense, I'm not really engaged with the online discourse about generative AI because (from the bits and pieces that I've seen) it's a lot of people getting really angry and shouting the same x5 things at each other, rather than like, a discussion.
Anyway sorry for rambling, I appreciate your perspective! hope you have a good day! ♪ヽ(´▽`)/
Yeah, this is mostly where I'm at as well. Even purely secular people tend to invoke the concept of a "soul" when talking about "AI" art, and I'm pretty sure this is what they mean. Soul as in aggregate experience, perception, taste. People want copying in art to communicate something, they want to consider another human's notions of beauty and ugliness. That's why I describe it as modernist, it extricates taste. It copies accidentally with no bridge to the source, not even an implied one. I compare it to generative art a lot, but even that doesn't really reach the level of randomness and diversity of output as these image synthesis engines do. Morton Feldman's pieces still exist within the formal framework of orchestra, after all.
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mydarlingclaudia · 6 months ago
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I’m still coming back to you
note : divider is from @/aquazero. I've never written smut before, plus this is probably ooc, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I based this off of She's My Collar by Gorrilaz. since this is smut mdni.
wc : 1.3k
desc : you and Leon have something special, neither of you would trade it for anything. smut!! - oral (f receiving), more focused on Leon's pov, fwb (kind of??), Leon being kinda head over heels for you, a little bit of angst, not proofread, fem!reader, wrote this with DI!Leon in mind
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Leon thinks he might be in love with you. You’d always welcome him into your home, or he’d welcome you into his. You helped take the stress away from his work and made him forget that everything was out to get him. The two of you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but he knew damn well that he was yours and you were his.
It was routine. Leon would come back from a mission, wash up real quick, make his way to your apartment with a gift for you in his hand, and you’d be there waiting for him, like you usually were.
He’s been doing this with you for a while now, he’d met you at a bar in D.C. a few years ago, a one night stand turned into the two of you continuing to run into each other whether at the same bar or anywhere else in the city, and that led to more nights of the two of you passed out in his bed or yours, wearing nothing but love-bites and blankets. He liked you a lot more than he’d anticipated, he liked doting on you a lot, too.
Leon coming home from a mission wasn’t the only time he’d see you. He had a busy schedule, you knew that, that was the pretty much the only thing you knew about his job besides it being doing dangerous things for the government, but he’d try to see you once every couple of weeks at the very least. His arrival wouldn’t always be a surprise, he liked taking you out to dinner almost as much as he liked having sex with you. Leon did his best to plan dates with you, they weren’t ever anything really mind blowing, usually just dinner dates or him taking you shopping. Leon liked watching you try on dresses, he liked sharing a bottle of wine with you, he liked spending some money on you.
He couldn’t stay away from you, and you couldn’t stay away from him, he could die and still find a way to get back to you.
Leon never asked for your number, he hardly used his phone for anything outside of reading the news and work, he figured that if he had your number, he’d never put his phone down. Of course, that didn’t keep you out of his mind all day long. And it’s not like him not having your number made him unable to ever see you, he knew where you lived, he knew your work schedule. If he was to drop by your house and you weren’t there for some reason, he could just leave a note taped to your door telling you to come meet him at his apartment.
Leon also thought that if he got your number and ended up losing his phone on a mission and it got into the wrong hands and they somehow found out about you, then things wouldn’t end good for either of you. That’s why after he joined the DSO he hasn’t been in an actual relationship, as much as he longed for one, he knew he couldn’t risk it. You were the closest he could get to that, he’d never really be able to date you, but you seemed happy with what the two of you had. Marriage and kids probably wouldn’t be his scene, anyway. And even if his relationship with you was able to get that far, he couldn’t just leave you home alone with a baby for weeks at a time, he’d feel horrible about it.
You’d never really talked about it, you’ve joked about it a few times, but there wasn’t really any significance behind them. It’s better that way.
Leon was lucky that you were his, even though it wasn’t official. He could pretend his life was normal for a few nights when he was with you.
The nights where he felt the most normal, was when he had his head buried between your thighs after he cooked you steak in the comfort of his apartment.
He’d just come back from California, as always, he didn’t say much about the mission other then it was more complicated then it should’ve been. Leon had told you that he went to the store and bought everything he needed for steak, all you needed to do was go home with him, which you were more than fine with. You always loved his apartment, it was comfy and smelled like him, you’d left a few of your own things there over the years. You knew what was going to happen when he knocked on your door, sometimes after missions he just had this look to him that told you he needed your help de-stressing, you were always willing to help.
Your back is pressed against Leon's bed while your hips are supported by his hands, your thighs rest on his shoulders, occasionally squeezing his head while he kneels between them. A string of shaky pants and whines fall from your mouth as he continues to eat you out, your grip on his hair tightens as you buck your hips against his face.
One of his hands leaves your hip to press down on your stomach, keeping you still against his mouth. Leon pulls away from you, pressing his face against your thigh and biting it gently.
"Stay still, like I told you." Leon mumbles softly, pressing down on your stomach a bit harder, the hand that had remained on your hip slips down to hold the underside of your thigh.
"C-Can't-" You whimper, weakly digging your heels into the back of his ribs to try and bring him closer once again.
"You can't?" He teases, raising an eyebrow and pulling further away from you slightly, to which you whine at. You removed your hand from his hair and sat up on your elbows and huffed, Leon only chuckled softly and reached up to place a hand over your chest, pushing you back down. Leon let his hand slide down over your breasts that were spilling out of the bra he hadn't bothered to take off of you after he covered your chest with soft indents of his teeth and hickeys, his hand returned to your hip before he attached his mouth back to your aching sex, sucking roughly.
Your thighs tightened around Leon's head again, refusing to let him go as your back arched ever so slightly off the bed so you could grind against his mouth. This time, he didn't pull away or scold you about keeping still, he just gripped your hips tighter and pressed his face against your cunt, lavishing attention to the sensitive flesh.
Leon always tried his best to savor you, even though you've done this together countless times. He loved the noises you made for him when he found the right spot to suck on or grind against, his memories of moments like these with you are what got him through tough missions, along with knowing that he'd get to do this all over again with you when he got home.
Your hand finds its way back into Leon's hair, he grunts against your flesh, giving your thigh a light slap as he pulls his head a few inches away, his breath fanning across your cunt.
"I know you missed me, but be patient. I've got you, I promise." He reassures you before he drags his tongue slowly up your slit, listening to you as you moan.
Your grip in his hair only tightens as you rock your hips again, feeling his tongue delve deeper to eat you out more thoroughly. He always did this; the teasing. You loved it.
Leon's down there for another five minutes before your orgasm washes over you, by the time he's done licking you clean, he's already gotten his belt buckle off and his pants unzipped, trailing wet kisses up your body before his lips meet yours. He'd never get tired of this, even if he does it one thousand more times, he'd do it happily. He's got you, and you're the best thing life has ever thrown his way.
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l1tw1ck · 11 months ago
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In Exchange
Sub!Bottom!FTM Sam Winchester x Dom!Top!Male Reader
☆ Word Count: 3,617 ☆
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AFAB Language Used
blacked out every time i wrote this like jekyll and hyde 😭 /j
CW: Non-Con, Sexual Coercion, Drugging, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Pregnancy Mention, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Puppy Play (Collar, Puppy Sam), Nipple Sucking, Riding, Corruption
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“Excuse me, are you [Name]?” Sam walks up to you as you're smoking outside a bar.
“What's it to you?”
“I’m Joseph Johnson. I'm a detective.” Sam shows you his badge just long enough for you to believe him. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent incident.”
“Then you’d better give up and ask someone else.”
Sam looks at you in dismay. “You're the only living witness, we won't be able to get anywhere without you!”
“I’m not sharing anything without something in return.”
He perks up. “I've got about 60 buc-”
“I'm not looking for money. I want you to get on your knees and give me a blowjob.”
He looks at you in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Completely. Make your choice, Sherlock.”
There is no choice. He needs this information in order to save the town. He has to do it. “Fine…Just don't make me swallow.”
You stub out your cigarette. “You're not in a position to make demands, sweetheart. You're gonna swallow it if you want me to talk.”
Chills run down his spine. You're so assertive, it's…..sexy. He almost slaps himself. He lets out a big sigh. “Okay.”
You smile. “Hold on.” You enter the bar and come out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer. It's already been opened. That makes Sam suspicious but in your defense, he doesn't have a bottle opener on him. Against his better judgment, he chugs the bottle.
He notices the chilling grin on your face but hopes it's not because you drugged him. You lead him to a secluded alleyway. “Kneel.” You unbuckle your belt.
“Here? Are you serious?”
“Didn't you hear me, pretty boy? Kneel.”
Sam frowns and gets down on his knees. He gulps upon seeing your hard cock. He’s never seen one in real life before, after all, he's never gone far enough for that.
“Open wide.” You tug on his hair. He looks at you with contempt but opens his mouth anyways. The feeling of your cock entering his mouth is completely foreign. It's way different than sucking on a popsicle or some other iced treat. It’s warm and pulsing. And it's thick, so thick his jaw hurts. “As I thought, you look much better with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”
Sam shivers. He can't believe that turned him on. His body suddenly begins to rise in temperature, as if he's come down with a fever. You don't seem to care about his reddening face as you slowly drag him back and forth on your cock. He stops worrying about it, even as he starts to feel more aroused than he should. He just closes his eyes and discreetly ruts against his hand as you do all the work for him. He feels so wet that his slick is probably bleeding through his underwear. He desperately needs to touch himself but he's sober enough to feel embarrassed about doing so. It's so hard for him to feel pleasure through his pants that he's started whimpering. You don't know why he's doing that but you're not complaining about the new sensation you're feeling.
“Shit- I’m already gonna come-” You moan. “Your mouth is amazing, sweetheart, you're better off selling it than being a detective.”
Sam moans as you come in his mouth. His mind is so hazy and high on whatever you drugged him with that he actually feels happy to swallow your seed. He’s completely out of his mind.
You pull him away from your cock and pry open his mouth with your thumb to make sure he's swallowed everything. “Good boy.”
He looks at you almost demurely.
“It’d be a shame to stop here, don't you think?” You run your fingers through his hair. The drug seems to have kicked in completely so you know he’ll agree.
“Mhm..”
“It’d be nice if I could fuck that sweet ass of yours...”
“Not there...” He shakes his head.
“Why not? I’d make you feel real good.”
“Isn't my pussy better?” Sam smiles, unbuckling his belt.
“It definitely is.” You smirk.
Sam shakily gets up on his feet and drops his pants and boxers to his ankles. He walks over to the wall and bends over, giving you a drunken smile. You look at his pussy and feel your cock immediately come back to life. He's so wet that his slick is on the inner corner of his thighs. You can't wait to dive into that.
You stick two of your fingers inside him, not caring for how that makes him feel, and explore his insides. He's soft, warm, and oh so fucking wet. Sam moans, too drugged to consider the fact that he's in public.
“Th- there!” His voice and legs are shaking. “Yes-yes-yes–”
“Already gonna come, darling?” You find his g-spot and immediately cause him to squirt. You watch in awe, painfully hard thanks to this mesmerizing display. You pull your fingers out and slowly inch your cock inside him. “Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer. You don't mind, right, baby?”
Sam moans, eyes half lidded. “Mm- deeper~”
“The drug’s really changed you…or maybe it's just allowed your real personality to show?” You smirk, going deeper as he requested. “I might have to keep drugging you if it means I can fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”
He shivers, leaning further against the wall as you make him experience his pussy stretching to accommodate your girth for the first time. ��Bi- big~” He bites his lip, absolutely blissed out.
“You like how big I am? Or how good your cunt feels stretching to fit me?”
“Ye- yes~ so good~” He answers both of your questions. “My pussy feels so good, [Name]~”
“Yeah? I’ll make it feel even better.” Once you bottom out you start fucking him at a rough pace. The warm and slippery feeling of his cunt is making you too aroused to control yourself. You cover Sam’s mouth with your hand, knowing he won't even try to keep quiet. Your hand quickly becomes drenched with his saliva, a constant vibration thanks to Sam moaning. You can still hear his moans, albeit muffled, but at a much better level that suits your location. “You're such a good boy, you know? Taking my cock so fucking well. If we were at my place, I’d be happy to hear you moan.”
Sam’s body reacts to being called a good boy, his cunt clenching around you once again.
“I wish I could have you, a cute puppy like you should have an owner. Although, I don't know if I have the strength to actually let you go.” You pull down the collar from the back of his shirt and bite him, making a mark that’s sure to last a while. You can tell just by hearing him and feeling the way his cunt reacts that he liked that. “How about you touch yourself for me, pup? I want you to feel extra good.”
Sam brings his hand down to his t-dick, gently stroking himself and accelerating the amount of time it’ll take him to have an orgasm.
“Look at you, following orders so well.”
He whimpers in response.
“You’d be better off belonging to me than some agency, don't you think?” You move your hand away from his mouth.
“Ye- yes- wanna be yours!” He moans, squirting again on your cock. In his current state of mind, he feels overjoyed at the idea of abandoning his dangerous “career” for a life full of pleasure and submission. He won't have to think or put his life on the line anymore. Right now, he doesn't have the ability to think rationally and being your dog is all he wants. “Tak- take me! I wanna be your puppy~!”
You bury your head in his shoulder, slowing down. “I’ll hold you to that. Gonna make sure you can't change your mind and leave me.” You come inside of him despite knowing he wouldn't want this if he was sober. At this point you don't care what he thinks, you just want him. Maybe the whiskey you had earlier is finally getting to you...
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Sam wakes up on his motel bed, feeling something inside his underwear, a painful feeling in his neck, and a sharp headache. He closes his eyes and tries to recall what happened last night. He soon starts to remember everything, even after the drug kicked in. He should be angry but he isn't. He's horny. He sits up on the bed and looks around.
“Dean?” He calls out. No response. He leans back and brings his hand into his pants, sliding his index and middle finger down his slick cunt. He feels your cum and pushes it back inside him, fingering himself with your cum. He doesn't want to get pregnant but he can't help himself. Just doing this makes him so horny…He feels like a perv.
Sam leans back and moans, feeling extra sensitive. He remembers how you made him squirt for the first time and how it’d probably feel even more amazing if he could do it sober. He starts to think about all the compliments you gave him and how you wanted to make him yours. He knows he should be focusing on hunting, especially because of his powers, but he can't help but yearn for a safe life with you. He doesn't even really know you. He did a background check on you but he didn't look at anything that would’ve given him any information about your personality. He can't believe that a one night with you is making him feel like this. Making him want to relinquish his autonomy to a stranger.
He murmurs your name, absolutely enamored with you. Are you even human? You have to have some special power to make him so infatuated with you. Right?
Before he can reach his climax, the sound of the doorknob twisting stops him. Sam quickly takes out his hand and rubs it on his clothes. Dean opens up the door and immediately looks at Sam.
“Where the hell were you last night? And why are you in the same clothes?”
“I- I uh…got drunk.” He looks at him sheepishly.
“Why?!”
“[Name] didn't want to talk unless I won a drinking game…I won.”
Dean looks surprised. “That guy must be even more of a lightweight than you are.”
Sam laughs awkwardly.
“So what's the story?”
“I don't know–” Sam stops thanks to Dean’s expression. “Yet! I’ll call him today.”
“You got his number?”
Sam vaguely remembers you putting something in his pocket. He digs into his right pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He opens it up. I’ll talk. I left you hangover medicine, the morning after pill, and a pregnancy test. Let me know the results when the time comes. [Your Number]. “Yeah. I got it.” He turns to the bedside table and sees a bag with the logo from the local pharmacy. His heart flutters from your consideration. Which is ironic, considering what you did to him.
“Good. Take a shower and eat something, then call him.” Dean grabs the remote, gets onto his bed, and turns on the tv.
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At around 11, Sam called you and now you're sitting outside a café with “Joseph” and his partner, “Francis”.
“There's two of you.” You raise your eyebrow. “Looks like you're not Sherlock, but one of the hardy boys.” You chuckle.
Sam laughs awkwardly. “This is my partner–”
“Wait, let me guess, Frank?”
“Francis. My friends call me Frank.” He smiles, impressed that you got the reference.
“Joseph and Franics. Interesting coincidence.” You’re tempted to inquire further but you decide not to. You're not too excited to recount the story but you’d rather just get it over with.
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“And that was it.” You lean back into the chair. You noticed Sam was staring at you the entire time but you ignored it, you don't want to bring anything up with Dean around.
“Thanks for telling us. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean stands up and shakes your hand. “Alright, let's go.” He turns to Sam.
“I- I actually have something to do, go without me.”
“What? What the hell could be so important?”
Sam looks away and doesn't answer.
Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. But don't let me find out you're trying to meet some girl or something.” He shakes his head and walks over to his car.
“So, what’s more important than your investigation?” You tilt your head in interest.
“I remember what happened last night.”
“I sure hope so, that's the whole reason I’m here.”
“No, I remember that you drugged me.”
You’re a little surprised, that wasn't supposed to happen. You know he won't turn you in though. You’re sure of it. “Are ya gonna turn me in, Mr. Hardy?” You smile teasingly.
“Not if you do something for me in return. It's only fair, right?”
You give him an amused look. “Of course, puppy, it's only fair.”
Sam blushes at the name.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Drive me to your place and you'll find out.”
“Alright, we'll have to make a quick stop though.” You grin and lead him to your car.
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Sam enters your home, anxious for two reasons. One, because you went to a sex shop and told him what you bought is a secret. And two, because he's about to request something that nobody in their right mind would do after being taken advantage of in such a way.
He sits on your bed and watches you as you place the bag on your desk and reveal what you bought. A collar that closely resembles one for a dog, but clearly made to be worn by a human. Sam’s entire body heats up.
“Just a little something to remember me by.” You hand him the collar
He frowns slightly, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't know why he's so obsessed with you but he brushes away the thought and puts the collar on. He looks adorable. “Now you have to do my request.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “I want you to eat me out.” He's been fantasizing about this in the shower. He can't leave this town without experiencing this at least once.
You lick your lips. “That's it? If that's what you want, I’ll be glad to do it.” You pull his pants and underwear off for him and kneel in between his legs. You slowly drag your tongue up his pussy, tasting him for the first time. You let out a soft noise of pleasure before wrapping your lips around his t-dick and slowly easing two your fingers into his cunt. Sam throws his head back and moans unabashedly as you suck him off, his body heating up. This is so much better than just fingering himself. Your mouth feels so good.
“Like that- yes~” Sam rolls his eyes back. It won't take long for him to come. “[Name]~!” He gasps when your fingers reach his g-spot. “Oh my God–” He falls back onto the bed, quickly climbing towards his orgasm. You add a third finger and continue to finger his wetness while sucking his cock more passionately. Sam can't even manage to get any words out, he feels too fucking good to even think about anything. He instinctively wraps his legs around your head and squirts, drenching you. He takes a few moments before letting go of you.
You pull away and lick your lips. “Now, how about a round two?”
Sam nods, removing his clothes. “I wanna ride you.”
“I’d love that.”
Sam hovers above your hard length, his left hand holding it in his place and his right on your shoulder. He lowers himself onto your cock, gasping when he feels you stretching him open. Despite his memory being mostly clear from that night, the pleasure he remembered wasn't enough to prepare him for this. “Fuck–!” He moans, continuing to lower himself down. Tears run down his cheeks thanks to the painful pleasure he's experiencing. “You're- so, so big-” He's breathless.
“You're adorable, puppy.” You hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you can handle it though, keep going.”
Sam moves further down until you're completely inside him. He looks at you, tears still streaming down.
“Good boy.” You kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before closing his eyes and reciprocating the kiss. You briefly pull away to open your mouth and Sam is quick to catch on. You return to kissing him but now with your tongue. Sam considers himself a master at kissing, since it's the most he’s ever done. At least when it comes to receiving.
Sam finds himself grinding down on your cock, finding pleasure in the way you feel inside him.
You pull away from him and move down to his neck to bite and kiss it. You now move even further and wrap your lips around his nipple, happily sucking on it while your hand goes to massage his other breast. Sam whimpers and squeezes your cock happily. He could get used to this. Just being a dumb, slutty puppy for you to use sounds great to him. Sorry Dean and the greater good, Sam is giving up on being a hunter and choosing to become a simple toy.
You reluctantly leave his breasts and look at Sam with a smile. “Why don't you try riding me now?”
“Okay..” Sam places both his hands on your shoulders and slowly rises. He whimpers at the feeling. He never had the confidence to try using a dildo so he had no idea how intense this would feel. He quickly lowers himself, missing the feeling of your entire cock inside him. Even losing a few inches is upsetting for him.
“You don't want to do it anymore? Is it too hard for you, puppy?”
He looks away from you. “I want all of you inside me…”
“Aw, you can't even stand a few seconds? I promise you won't even feel it as long as you keep up a fast pace. It’ll feel much better than just having me inside you…although I do enjoy having you keep my cock warm.”
Sam tries riding you properly but he's still feeling weak and can't do it fast enough. He stops and looks at you.
“Let me help you.” You grab his waist and lift him up and down at a fast pace. Sam rolls his head back and moans in pleasure. “See? It feels good.”
“So- so good!” He cries. He feels so good that he barely even feels the painful slapping of his breasts against his chest. He can't even focus his sight, pain is nearly obsolete to him. He brings his hand down to his dick, stroking it as best he can. You can tell he's about to come.
“Come on, puppy, come for me.” You smirk. It doesn't take much longer after that for Sam to come. He squirts, making a mess on your body. “Good boy. Now it's my turn.”
Sam gasps as his body is suddenly pushed onto the bed, your hands squeezing his wrists tightly. “Just a little more, I know you can take it.” You roughly thrust into his cunt, indulging in the lovely wet warmth of his pussy. Sam doesn't mind, on the contrary, he’s happy to be used just to get you off. “You're so obedient, sweetheart, so perfect.” You start to act more like a dog than Sam, your horniness compelling you to rut into him like a wild beast. He can barely handle it thanks to the previous activities but he's fighting to stay awake. Seeing you in this state is much too arousing to miss.
“Tha- thank you~” He smiles stupidly.
Just hearing him say that with an expression like that makes you come. You briefly grip his wrists harder then loosen it as you come down from your high. “I don't want to let you go..”
“Me neither…I like being your puppy.” His eyelids start to feel heavy. “Wanna keep getting used…” He falls asleep. You kiss his forehead and pull out. You've never given an unconscious person a bath but it shouldn't be too hard.
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Dean pounds angrily on your front door, a gun in his pocket ready to shoot you if necessary. Thanks to an eyewitness report from the café employee, he found out where Sam went. He doesn't know what's going on but he's furious. He hasn't answered his calls and he hasn't seen him since yesterday.
You open the door. “Ah! Francis. Here to pick up your partner?” You pause.
“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”
“Nothing he didn't like.” You reply plainly. “He's perfectly fine and drinking some tea. I’ll show you.”
Dean looks at Sam in shock. He's just wearing a big shirt and probably underwear. “Sam! What's going on?”
“I’m sorry, but I want to stay here. I love [Name] and I don't want to leave him.”
“WHAT?!” He's completely taken aback.
“You heard him. You’ll have to head back on your own. I’ll get his stuff for him.”
Dean doesn't trust you at all. He's going to be doing a lot of research on whatever monster you might be. He's convinced you're not human. “I’m staying longer. You probably did something to him…I don't trust you.”
“That's fine.” You smile. You have something else to worry about. “So…who's Sam?”
Sam and Dean both look at each other. Looks like they're going to have to reveal the truth, at least partially...
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theosbaby · 5 months ago
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I need a Fifty Shades reference smut of Draco.. maybe when they were eating ice cream or whatever because HSJAIDJKANDDK 😏😏 anyways, love you
is it weird that i'm going feral over something i wrote? 'cause right now i am... i had fun writing this, thank you for your request @drcelly ! ♡
𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...
licking ice cream out of bf!draco
NSFW content ahead, +18
vanilla ice cream has never tasted fucking better than it tastes when you lick it out of your boyfriend's chest, slowly sucking your way down his hard abs as you kneel in front of his naked form, doe eyes looking up at him the whole time. and he's looking right back down at you with a heated gaze, pearly white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip to try and hold back every soft gasp that threatens to escape.
he's sprawled on his bed, in his prefect dorm, the moonlight coming in through the window casting shadows in his ripped body. he just looks so good your mouth's watering.
you see him shiver as you pour more ice cream on him, the cold spoon tracing his hot flesh ever so slightly. your free hand is sliding up his pale thigh, soft finger pads tracing patterns on his milky skin as they get closer and closer to his hard cock. and so does your mouth. you lick all the way down his happy trail, the sweet flavour of the ice cream flooding your taste buds as you finally reach his pubic bone.
he's already a whimpering mess as you suck a mark on his flesh, so close to his dick, his hand reaching out to grab a fistful of your soft hair. he tugs at your hair strands impatiently, guiding your face to his cock to encourage you to take it in your mouth.
you obey his command avidly, plump lips parting and tongue sticking out to lick at his fat, sensitive tip. the action would draw such a pretty moan out of him, making your pussy throb in response.
having you suck him off just gets him so fucking weak.
of course, you'd tease the shit outta him —licking, kissing, maybe sucking on his reddened cockhead, but not putting it in yet. you take your time, indulging in the soft noises he makes and the way he squirms beneath you. but at some point, he gets fed up of your teasing, and then he's just shoving his dick forcefully down your little throat, making you take it all.
he's too long to fit comfortably in your mouth, so you're gagging around his dick as he thrusts in and out, spit drooling down your chin and eyes swelling up with tears. the sight of you so prettily messed up makes him more turned on if possible.
"so beautiful with your mouth stuffed full of my dick, princess," he praises you. he loves praising you. his precious girl, always so good for him.
you'd hollow your cheeks around his shaft, sucking on it eagerly. you're so turned on too, hips desperately bucking to rub your soaked pussy against the hard floor like a dirty little slut. but that's what you are, draco's dirty little whore. a feral grin spreads across his face as soon as he notices what you're doing to get off.
"such a fucking needy girl, huh?" he grunts, pulling at your hair to force you away from his dick, a string of your saliva dripping down his length. then, his free hand would slap your cheek —not too rough but enough to sting a little. honestly, you can't help but moan in response. "can't wait to have my dick inside that greedy pussy?"
"please," you whimper, batting your long eyelashes as you look up at him with teary eyes and swollen, wet lips.
and he can't say no to his favourite girl.
"don't worry, princess, gonna give you exactly what you want."
after that, he's forcing you up onto your feet and bending you over the bed to fuck you silly, face buried in the sheets and plush ass up in the air.
more.
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junkissed · 1 year ago
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can't get you out of my head
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member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am
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the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.
the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.
it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 
he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.
so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 
like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.
the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.
one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.
your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.
you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.
your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.
you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.
if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—
before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.
he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.
the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.
so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 
maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…
… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?
well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.
you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.
you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.
for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.
he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.
you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 
he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.
but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.
he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.
but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 
he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.
he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.
sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.
if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.
you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.
throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.
he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.
you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.
it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.
you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.
without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.
you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 
the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.
he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.
you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.
this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.
he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.
"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.
it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.
it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 
"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"
your breath catches a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."
and just like that, things make sense. 
"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.
everything is so simple with hansol.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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lay-z · 6 months ago
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I'm sorry, but this is so self-indulgent, it hurts. I've been thinking about it since it happened...So, here goes nothing. Also, this took a turn while I wrote it, because I have no control over myself and usually change plotlines mid-writing. MINORS, DNI - 18+ only !!! Pairing: f!reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish Warnings/Info: German reader 🇩🇪; trash talk; banter; cussing; Scottish slang (I feel like that should count as a warning...); German language; fuckbuddies to lovers; sexual tension; explicit smut; unprotected sex; some jealousy; dom!Soap; fluff
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“Ach, ye gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me, lass!" Soap scoffs loudly as soon as he sees you swagger in to the private 141 rec room inside the HQ with a smug smile on your lips and that popular pink football jersey of the German national team adorning your body. 
Soap is wearing his new cobalt blue Scotland jersey himself; fabric straining around his bulging biceps, stretching over his broad chest, and fitting snugly around his narrow waist like a second skin, because he's bought it a size too small on purpose.  
Captain Price and Gaz are both showing off their support and colours by wearing their white England jerseys, naturally, while Ghost doesn't seem to care much because 'our bloody team isn't playing tonight anyways'. Keegan is wearing a vintage looking Portugal jersey, because 'Cristiano is still the fucking goat', and Roach is just happy to be there, really. He's more into American football, but he doesn't dare to speak that thought out loud tonight. 
The atmosphere is light-hearted, riddled with boisterous laughter, crude banter and the smells of Price's cigar smoke, savoury snacks, hefty beer and hard liquor, while the group is gathered around the sofa in front of the large flat TV screen mounted on the wall, either sitting on its plush cushions or on one of the office chairs borrowed from one of the nearby meeting rooms.  
Tensions are high, especially between you and Soap as the group waits for the preliminary reporting and interviews to end and the match to finally begin. 
Germany vs. Scotland, the first opening match for this year's European Football Championship tournament. 
Soap chokes up during Scotland's national anthem, overwhelmed by the sheer pride his fellow countrymen display in the stadium in Munich, while you merely stand with your hand over your heart as the German national anthem is sung next – singing your own national anthem and showing any kind of patriotism for your country, always makes you feel weird somehow; many thanks to inherited generational shame.  
Still, you feel a tiny bit of pride as you witness your own compatriots sing the anthem just as noisily as the Scots. 
"That a rare smile I spy on yer lips, lassie?" Soap teases after the anthems are finished, nudging his elbow against your upper arm while he's holding a bottle of beer in his hand. He loves to tease you with stereotypes that don't even apply to you most times, but he does it, nonetheless.  
"Ye like how yer fellow Krauts have shown some pride in their country, eh?" He snickers, earning a sharp, scolding glare from Captain Price.  
"Careful, MacTavish," the Captain chides from his chair next to the couch, his voice muffled by the cigar he's currently chewing on, while the others chuckle and snort among each other, "Keep the bloody banter above the belt, son."  
However, you simply click your tongue and roll your eyes at him as Soap continues to grin at you. Both of you know that he doesn't mean any menace by it, and you've said way worse stuff to each other in the past anyway – all in the name of good-natured, friendly banter, of course. Besides, you live for the constant banter and bickering between you two. It's pretty much the main foundation of your friendship, and what inevitably lead to your affair.  
"Very proud of my Krauts, yeah," you retort eventually, completely unfazed by the "slur", poking his large biceps with your forefinger harshly as you shoot him a mock glare, "I'll be even prouder when our team has completely annihilated yours, Scotch." 
Soap's chest rumbles with a low grunt at your name calling, and he loves how you defy him easily, as he lets his dark blue eyes roam over your figure appreciatively. He notices how the fabric of your jersey clings to your upper body, accentuating your delicious curves and ample chest, and how the thin collar hugs your pretty neck, making him want to wrap his hand around your throat just like he did last night. 
Gaz chuckles at your comment and even Ghost snorts quietly behind his balaclava, while Soap narrows his eyes at you playfully, now towering as he takes one more step towards you; close enough for you to tilt your head back slightly to keep eye contact with him.  
Gods, you love how tall he is compared to you; how he could easily bend you to his will if he wanted to. 
Soap notices how your pupils dilate as you hold his gaze fiercely and he can already feel his blood heat up in his veins with excitement, rushing south. He clenches his jaw as you bat your eyelashes up at him with that bratty smirk of yours and his fingers tighten around the cold beer bottle in his hand, the other one stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, to keep himself from grabbing and bending you over the couch in front of everyone, including your superiors.  
The tension between you two is becoming more noticeable to everyone present now, all thick and palpable.  
"Is – is that behaviour considered normal for them?" Roach enquires in a hushed whisper as he leans in to speak to the other men, shoving another handful of salted and roasted peanuts into his mouth while his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Soap. He's more interested in whatever is going on between the two Sergeants than the goddamn soccer game on TV. 
Keegan simply nods with an affirming hum as he lifts the rim of his beer bottle to his lips, eyes glued to the TV, while Gaz answers verbally, also not taking his eyes off the screen. 
"Aye," the latter confirms, "Just ignore them, Sanderson. We don't interfere, unless they get physical. Right, Captain?" 
The older male nods firmly in return, his face a mask of seriousness as he watches the kick-off with intrigue, taking a slow sip of his glass of bourbon. 
"And even then, only if it's not sexual." Ghost adds gruffly, though one can practically hear that he's smirking beneath his mask. The Lieutenant has never said it out loud yet, but he is very much aware of the thing that has been going on between his Sergeant's for a while now.  
Soap manages to stay cocky after the first two goals for the German soccer team, despite his teammates and, especially, your teasing. The third one, a penalty goal, makes him break out in a sweat with both anger and devastation, all hope for a win now gone at once.  
The Germans don't stop there, though. 
You're tugging at Soap's arm, his jersey, jumping up and down like some excited bunny, laughing and cheering hysterically after having had a few drinks at this point, celebrating with the rest of the team, while the Scotsman looks on with a sour, stony expression.  
He doesn't even know when everyone else suddenly became a fan of the goddamn Germans, all he knows is that his team is losing, and he's currently outnumbered by impostors. Creepin' Jesus, even Roach is cheering for them! He should've known better than to watch the bloody game with you and the lads. 
"Aw, come on, Soapey!" You coo at him condescendingly, grinning widely as he crosses his arms in front of his chest with a huff, rolling his shoulders coolly as if he's not incredibly vexed, "Are you not enjoying the game, huh?" 
"Ach," he scoffs, shrugging off your hand from his shoulder like a petulant child, "Away an bile yer heid." 
"English, MacTavish!" Ghost scolds from his seat on the couch, having heard the insult despite the noise in the room, and you can see how badly Soap wants to flip the Lieutenant off.  
"Ah, ah, ah, Johnny," you butt in a with a smug tone to your voice, "Be nice now. Your boys can still win thi–" 
Your voice is cut off by loud cheering as Germany scores their fourth goal. 
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"Fuckin' sore winner, hen," Soap grunts as he bullies his cock deeper into your quivering cunt; right up to the hilt, stretching your velvety walls and hitting your g-spot repeatedly while you're burying your face into the soft pillows on the mattress beneath you, muffling your desperate noises as you take his fat cock like the good little bonnie you usually are behind closed doors. 
In this position, he has the best view on your delicious curves and soft skin, now adorned with his deep blue Scotland jersey after he’d swiftly pulled the German one off you once you were in your bedroom; the fabric now rucked up to your shoulder blades, one hand of his fisting the stretchy fabric tightly to keep you exposed. 
"Teasin' me all fuckin’ night," he huffs through gritted teeth as his blunt nails dig into your skin, tightening his grip around the fat on your hips with his other hand, so you can't escape him, "Over some fuckin' football game." 
While Soap rolls and thrusts his hips in a steady, brutal rhythm, positioned between his spread knees behind you, you're grabbing fistfuls of your blanket as you moan and whimper helplessly, dampening the white sheets with your drool, taking everything he's giving you in retaliation to your bratty behaviour back at the rec room. 
Soap had immediately grabbed a tight hold of your wrist and pulled you out of the room, towards the 141 quarters, as soon as the final whistle had rung out, ending the match with a terrible loss for Scotland. He didn’t bear to stand a minute longer to listen to his and your teammates mockery, and he didn’t care about the confused looks everyone, except Ghost, were shooting you and him as you’d left together. 
He doesn’t care much anymore that Scotland lost to Germany – 5:1; it just so happens to be the perfect excuse to completely wreck you tonight, and Soap keeps telling himself that it’s not at all because he’s witnessed Keegan getting friendly with you over the past few times the team went out to the pub on base. You two might not be official, but you’re still his – and his only.
His friend, his fuckbuddy, his lover.
"You're jus'.... mad they– a-ah~" You slur, but your words are cut off by another pathetic moan that is ripped from your throat when Soap grabs you by the nape of your neck suddenly, like a dog would grab her puppies, squeezing your flesh and muscle with his calloused hand to keep you in place, then pulls his thick cock out up to its angry-red tip only to pound back into you with determined fervour to finally shut you up for good. 
No, Soap is not mad about the bloody game – he’s mad that you’d spent halftime sitting on Keegan’s lap like an obedient puppy when the latter had asked you to take a seat, because the chairs were taken and Ghost took up most space on the sofa – and Soap was too proud to tell you to sit on his lap instead.
The bed rocks and creaks under your combined weight, hitting the wall repeatedly with a very telling “thudthudthudthud–” for your surrounding neighbours, your teammates, while the warm glow of your bedside lamp casts a lewd shadow of your current activity on the white walls of your bedroom. Fuck, Soap hopes Keegan can hear you two going at it in his apartment.
“What was that, bonnie? Ye said sum’?” the Scotsman grits out mockingly, biting his lower lip, nostrils flaring with exerted breaths as he squeezes your neck tighter, forcing you to arch your back and your pretty ass up into him as he pounds into you; skin slapping skin as his balls tap against your clit with each deep and rapid thrust. 
Meanwhile, you don’t even register his teasing words anymore as you’re fully focused on the mind-blowing pleasure Soap is giving you; hard and dominating and the opposite of how the usually treats you during sex.  
Your eyes roll back, toes curling as the tension of your impending climax begins to build up, up, up then; heat blossoming in your lower abdomen as he keeps pushing you towards the edge with each delightful rock of his powerful hips and his girthy cock ramming into your sweet spot.  
However, Soap knows those sounds you’re making all too well already; the way you’re breathing pattern changes, the higher pitch of your wanton moans and sweet cries of pleasure, the way your walls begin to clench harder around his thick length, practically sucking him in deeper into your silky heat – he can read all the signs like the bloody morning paper, knows you’re about to cum on his dick... 
And despite his own pleasure licking and tingling at his lower spine, making his burly muscles tense and twitch and his balls tighten with the inevitable – he stops his movements at once, ruins both your orgasms, and pulls his throbbing cock from your soppy, warm cunt. Glancing down briefly, Soap sees his bare cock glistening with your slick, creamy arousal and his pearly pre-cum gathering at the base of his cock, and the sight makes him shudder and groan with excitement. 
He can’t have you cum like this tonight, though, fucking you doggy – Gods, no. Soap needs to watch you fall apart on his cock, needs to see your gorgeous features contort in pleasure and your reaction when he spills his thick load into you for the very first time without anything holding him back and separating him from you – knowing he’s the only one able to have you like this.
“Up,” he grunts out next, simultaneously pulling you upwards by your neck while he feels your rapidly fluttering pulse under his fingertips, until your back is flush with his sweat-slicked and bare, heaving chest while his rock hard cock rubs and pokes along your ass cheeks, “Gimme yer mouth.”  
Cranking your neck towards him obediently, Soap reaches out and cups the side of your jawline to angle your face to his liking, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss and swiftly plunging his hot tongue past your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as you moan into his mouth while his other large hand snakes around your body, slipping beneath his jersey you’re wearing, cupping and groping your plump tits greedily, pinching your stiff nipples with the rough pads of his thumb and forefinger.
Soap goes on to shift and manhandle you into a different position and you gladly let him. 
He pushes you down onto your back, smirking to himself when you spread your legs for him all too eagerly, making grabby hands with a frustrated pout to have him on top of you again – it’s adorable, really, and he appreciates the view of your pussy, all puffy and wet for him, before he nestles himself between your thighs – the place that has easily become his favourite over the past few months.
 “Yer such a brat,” Soap chuckles darkly as he grabs one of your legs by your calf to hike it up over his broad shoulder, then the other, before he spits into his palm and gives his cock a few good pumps with his fist, tapping and rubbing the swollen tip on your sensitive clit teasingly until you let out a needy whine, one hand of yours reaching up to hold on to the back of his neck, tugging at his short Mohawk.
You’re his brat, though. Emphasis on his.
“And you’re such an ass tonight, Johnny,” you mewl in return and suck in a breath when Soap aligns his thick tip with your slick hole, pushing in halfway with one languid thrust and leaving you both breathless again. 
“’m not an arse,” he objects with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches you bite your lower lip raw to keep your lewd noises at bay, “Ye just have a way of drivin’ me doolally, hen.” He counters, and then leans in to crash your lips together once more, folding your legs up even further while his cock sinks into your cunt fully, followed by a guttural moan of his when he feels your walls clench and tighten around him, squeezing him until his muscles tremble with restraint.
He groans against your lips; the feeling of your throbbing heat and the taste of your soft tongue flicking and lapping against his is nearly enough to make him cum on the spot. It’s almost like he can feel your heartbeat through your snug, perfect pussy, and it nearly drives him to the brink of madness each time you let him fuck you.
“You can’t say shit like doolally and not expect me to laugh,” you snicker softly, nipping at his lower lip as you lock eyes with him, batting your eyelashes, “Sounds fucking ridiculous.” 
Soap grins in return and continues his deep, deliberate thrusts into your delicious cunt. His heart always flutters giddily whenever you gaze into his eyes with that cheeky look of yours, especially when his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, stretching you out with every inch he has to offer.
“Say some in German then,” he croons lowly, nudging his nose below your chin to make you tilt your head up to give him better access to your neck before he begins peppering wet, hot kisses along your pulse point, sucking a purple love bite into your creamy skin to mark you up. “I wanna laugh, too,” he grumbles between nips and pecks. 
You click your tongue in mock annoyance, enjoying his ministrations and the way his beard tickles your skin too much to be mad at his teasing, and you tug on his short hair a little harder before raking your nails over his scalp until he purrs against your skin in pure bliss. Soap can feel how you swallow hard as he licks a long stripe from your collarbone up your throat, then your walls clench tightly around his cock and he grits his teeth as another pleasant shudder runs down his spine.  
“Say. Sum’. To. Me. Lass.” He demands, this time punctuating each word with a sudden deep and sharp rock of his hips that makes the bed’s headboard hit the wall again. 
Your eyes flutter shut with a breathy moan and your brain short-circuits while each of his thrusts makes a jolt of hot searing pleasure shoot right into your core, making your spine tingle and your body tense with bliss. 
“Ich liebe dich,” you blurt out unintentionally instead of an insult, your speech slurred and unintelligible as he presses his weight further into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs in this position. Your eyes widen as soon as you realize what you’ve just confessed and you pray he didn’t understand that. 
Soap doesn’t speak German, but those words do sound familiar. 
His stomach tightens, his heart skips a heavy beat while his mind begins to race, and his rhythm falters momentarily before he picks up his pace again, fucking into you fast, deep and thoroughly to drown out the sudden wave of foreign emotions on the brink of overwhelming him. 
“Again,” he demands against your ear, gripping your body tightly and keeping you in place on the mattress as he ruts into your cunt with newfound vigor and goad, his pelvis stimulating your clit with each sharp snap of his hips.
“Say –“ He gets a hold of your jaw, curling his large hand around it to make you look at him while he grits his teeth, huffing like some feral bull. “– that again.”
Reaching one hand out behind you, you brace your flat palm against the headboard while your other hand keeps holding on to the back of his neck, fingernails digging into thick muscle and skin as you cling onto him desperately.
“F-fuck, Johnny!” You cry out. “Ich liebe dich, du Vollidiot!” you repeat in between breathy, high-pitched moans, though more confident this time, before your eyes roll back in pleasure with another loud moan of his given name.
Soap can barely keep it together then. His heart nearly bursts out of his chest and his jaw clenches so hard, the veins in his neck start protruding and fluttering with his rapid pulse as he feels you come apart around his cock; your tight, soppy walls convulsing and clenching, pushing and coaxing him to his own sudden release.
And he lets go of your jaw, clutches the pillow next to your head tightly as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, groaning and moaning shamelessly as his body seizes up, balls tightening almost painfully before he spends his thick cum into your perfect cunt.
You wince and exhale a hiss when Soap leans back to look at you and lowers your legs at last, letting you stretch out your sore muscles while he stays buried inside you, moving his hips almost lazily and caressing your burning leg muscles soothingly while both your bodies keep twitching and shaking with small aftershocks. You can feel his warm cum and your own wetness leaking and dripping down your ass crack, ruining your bed sheets below – and you remember that you did actually let him fuck you raw this time in a fit of frivolity.
Your blurry vision becomes clear again once you blink away the haziness and then you already feel Soap’s calloused fingers tracing your jawline, his deep blue eyes drinking in your gorgeous, flushed features almost reverently.
“What?” You ask defensively, looking up at his ruggedly handsome face, now squirming under his uncharacteristically tender gaze and the feeling of his softening cock still resting all snug inside your cunt, acting as if you haven’t just professed your love to him, after weeks of dancing around the topic.
“Well,” he begins, clearing his throat after another beat of awkward silence as he can feel his cheeks begin to heat up with a burning blush,
“Ye cannae finally confess ye love me an’ not expect me ta combust, luv.”
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sapphireis · 6 months ago
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Dark/Yan Aemond HCs
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ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Toxic Relationship, Implied AFAB Reader (talk about pregnancy and stuff in a part, but for the rest pretty GN), Jealousy, Manipulation, Breeding Kink a bit, OOC?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Characters: Aemond Targaryen
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⤠ I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Highness (Aemond) ⤟ Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟
hello hotd fandom... pls be nice to me since this is my first time posting smth about this fandom hndhhd and I'm also very insecure about my writing rn, anyway... i wrote this mostly for myself so I'm sorry LMAO
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He's so possessive and protective of you. To the point where you can't go anywhere without guards who are loyal to him, due to his paranoia. Aemond would prefer to be your guard all the time, but alas he is unfortunately a very busy man so he has to trust the guards
When you are forced to do parties or appear in public Aemond is always around you or watching you, his eye never really leaves your figure. He always has his hands over you either on your lower back, guiding you where he wants, or on your waist. To remind you who you belong to.
Heleana and Alicent are the only one who he lets be around you when he is gone to keep you company, his brother Aegon? AH. No. Maybe Daeron, but Aegon absolutely not. Why would you want to spend time with a drunken fool?
In truth he is insanely jealous about everything and everyone, including his own family. He trusts his sister and mother to not pry too much into your relationship, and in fact his mother is more of an enabler for him. She is just so glad her son finally found someone he loves and cares about, so that he isn't alone anymore. How could she deny him such happiness?
Will try to get the two of you married instant. As soon as he saw you Aemond knew he had to marry you, it doesn't matter if you are highborn or not to him. Much to his mother and grandsire's displeasure of course
Once you are married of course he's gonna make you pregnant if possible. You wouldn't try to get away from him with a child on its way no? When he has endless ways of helping you with a babe, both during the pregnancy, the birth, and the years to come. Why have it the hard way when you can live a life of luxury?
Talking about a life of luxury, Aemond will give you anything you might need and more to keep you compliant. However, some things are not negotiable like for example what you wear: its either green or sapphire blue, no other clothes are tolerated for him. If you want to be more transgressive you can wear something outside of that, though the consequences...
He's so manipulative and wouldn't care to bring the situation in his favour, and would absolutely use your own emotion against you. "If you are hurt imagine how I feel" and stuff like that is often said when you two are fighting often over nothing, if not directly about Aemond's way of treating you.
You think it's unfair, Aemond thinks you don't understand how he feels. There is a war coming and he won't always be there protecting you since he will be on the battlefield. Its only fair that he fears for your safety, no? What kind of husband would he be otherwise?
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This work belongs to @/sapphireis, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡
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jromanoff · 8 months ago
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Study Break II R. George
Pairing: student!Regina George (2024) x law student!Reader
Warning(s): Reader not eating enough
Authors note: I’m in the middle of uni exams this week so I wrote a little something to indulge myself :)
Summary: College!AU - Regina is worried about your study habits and decides to intervene.
Word count: 1.6k
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Regina leaned against the door frame, watching you hunched over your textbooks, completely engrossed in your studies. The thick civil code books were laying open on the side, several coloured tabs sticking out to keep track of the laws you needed to use for your upcoming exams. Regina thought it almost looked like a rainbow at this point. That was the only pretty thing about the stuff on your desk though, it looked like a bomb exploded with the mess you’ve made.
"Babe, can you take a break? I miss spending time with you," Regina pouted, hoping to draw your attention away from the books in front of you. Her pout usually did the trick. She wanted to have some quality time with you since you haven’t been spending time with her these past few days, too engrossed with your studies. You even stopped having dinner with her.
You glanced up briefly, your brow furrowed in concentration. "Sorry Gina, I really need to focus. These exams are important."
Regina sighed dramatically, crossing her arms as she walked closer to you. Did you just really resist her pout? "You've been studying nonstop for days. Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?"
You paused, looking at Regina with concern. "I know, but I need to do well in this. It's important for my future. I don’t want to be a failure."
Regina softened, her concern for you overriding her desire for attention. Regina almost laughed at this realisation, her High School-self could never. "I understand, but I'm worried about you. You need to take care of yourself too."
You reached out to take Regina's hand, caressing it. "I appreciate your concern, babe. But I really need to study now, I’m fine.” you said with a reassuring smile, concentrating back on your books.
Regina frowned and decided she needed to change her approach, this was clearly not working. So instead of complaining or outing her concerns, Regina tried to engage in a conversation with you.
“What are you studying, anyways?” Regina curiously inquired as she saw her girlfriend so intensely focused.
She never asked you about the content of your studies before, because she probably wouldn’t understand it. She, on the other hand, always excitedly rambled to you about whatever she learned that day. From fashion designers to fashion history, Regina shared it all. You didn’t mind it, though. Seeing your girlfriend so excited about her studies made you happy too and extra knowledge never hurt anyone. It was a nice contrast to your law studies.
“Legal philosophy” you replied curtly.
“Sounds boring” Regina remarked. Her efforts were met with a dismissive attitude from you, causing Regina to frown in disappointment. But Regina wouldn’t let this deter her from trying again.
“What are you reading about now, then?” Regina asked once again, looking over your shoulder at the book you were currently reading.
“The Case of the Speluncean Explorers” you responded, perplexed by Regina’s sudden interest in your ‘boring’ law studies. Especially after she just complained about not getting any attention from you.
“The what explorers?”
“The Speluncean Explorers,” you explained, slightly exasperated. “It’s a fictional judgement where five judges with different opinions shed their light on a fictional case. Five explorers got stuck in a cave and eventually ran out of food so… they agreed to eat one person so the other four could survive. They decided who it should be by throwing a dice and when the remaining four explorers were rescued they got a murder charge. I really need to study now if you don’t mind.” You hoped this elaborate answer would satisfy Regina’s curiosity so you could refocus on your studies.
When Regina kept silent after your explanation you thought you managed to fend off your girlfriend for the time being. Wrong.
Regina felt increasingly ignored by your continued focus on studying and your dismissive attitude towards her. So she decided to retort to an old tactic – a kiss to divert your attention. Despite being in college now and attempting to leave her manipulative ways behind, Regina deemed this situation an emergency. You would definitely cave in after a kiss.
Regina put her fingers under your chin, turning your face towards her. Then, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to yours.
That sudden display of affection caught you off guard, but as Regina deepened the kiss your resistance immediately faded away. The tension in your shoulders eased as you gave into your girlfriend. Regina gently took the book you were holding from you.
“Regina, no. I need to study” you pulled away and protested, but Regina just kissed you again.
“What was that for, anyway?” you questioned her as you finally broke apart.
“So you’d be focused on something else than your studies. I deserve some attention too, you know? Not only your stupid books” Regina smirked.
You narrowed your eyes at her “I know what you’re trying to do” you told her and turned back to your desk. As you attempted to pick up your books once more, Regina shot you an ice cold glare. "If you don't put that book down right now... I swear to god you'll regret it," she warned, her tone leaving no room for argument. Regina rarely used that glare on you, but when she did? She was serious about it. Her glare and tone of voice caused you to immediately put your book back down, holding your hands up in surrender.
"That's what I thought," Regina asserted, a smirk playing on her lips. "Now, you’re cleaning up this mess of books and notebooks on this desk first," she declared, taking charge of the situation and asserting her authority over the chaotic study environment you created over the last week. How you could even study in this mess was a mystery to Regina.
Reluctantly, you set aside your textbooks and notes as Regina took charge of making dinner in the meantime, bustling about the kitchen.
The aroma of home-cooked food soon filled the air, causing a low rumble to come from your stomach. You quickly finished cleaning up your stuff and walked to the kitchen where Regina stood behind the stove.
“That smells delicious” you told your girlfriend as you embraced her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“It does, huh? Can you set the table for me, please?” Regina requested.
“Of course” you replied, giving Regina a kiss on the cheek before removing yourself from her. You set the table for dinner and sat down, waiting for Regina and the food.
As Regina set the steaming hot plates of food on the table, you immediately started eating before Regina herself had even the chance to get seated.
Regina observed you quickly shoving down the food she made with concern. It's a confirmation of her suspicions – you hadn’t been eating well all week, too consumed by your studies to the point you forgot to eat. With a pointed look, Regina breaks the silence. “I'm definitely keeping a closer eye on you when the next exam period comes up. You're not taking care of yourself properly. You’re never skipping dinner with me again in an exam period," Regina said, her gaze unwavering.
You frowned at her and attempted to deflect her concern. “You really don't need to, that's asking too much of you." you insisted
But Regina's resolve remains unyielding. "I don't care what you think. I'm keeping an eye on you. And that's final," she declares, her words leaving no room for argument. With a sigh you accept defeat, knowing that Regina can’t be swayed once she has her mind set on something.
That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since high school: Regina always gets what she wants.
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After dinner, you cleared the table and did the dishes together. Then, Regina insisted on cuddling with you.
Entering your room, you see Regina is already situated on the bed. She already removed her makeup and changed into something more comfortable.
"Come here, you," Regina said, opening her arms wide with a playful smile. "I need some cuddles."
You hesitated for a moment before relenting, changing into comfier clothes and joining your girlfriend in bed. As your head hit the silk pillow (that Regina bought for you, because according to her it’s better for your hair) you sighed in content. "I guess I could use some cuddles too," you admitted softly, smiling back at your girlfriend.
Regina pulled you close, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “Now, I know you’re tired so I’ll let you go to sleep in a bit, but you do need to promise me to give me attention tomorrow.” she said, softly stroking your hair.
“I promise, my love” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to Regina’s forehead.
Eventually exhaustion takes hold of you both, and you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace.
The next day you would spend no time on your studies, but only on Regina. You were determined to make it up to her. You even took her out on a spontaneous date to one of the high end restaurants she loved to make up for the lack of attention you gave her the past week. Afterwards the two of you went shopping and then cuddled for the remainder of the evening.
And your exams? Passed with flying colours.
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