#As of he didn’t actually have features and was just a vision that the mind translated as beautiful

[alcibiades-official]

What did Alcibiades look like?

Since no one every told us what Alcibiades actually looked like, only that he was beautiful, I collected Ancient Greek beauty standards which Alcibiades might have fit into.

- reddish-blond hair

- a little fat

- muscled

- fat bottomed

- symmetrical face

- Full lips

- Blue eyes

- chiselled cheek

I’d say Alcibiades either fit all beauty standards perfectly or none at all chaotically.

[porcalinecunt]

(𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃)𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ♡︎

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ having the body of a cyborg came with it’s perks, including turning boothill into your own personal porn bot a plug away! ~ ♡︎

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — afab!reader. mean dom!boothill. improper use of usb ports. pornography. manhandling. overstimulation. edging. pussy drunk boothill. no pronouns for reader.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : saw someone on tt mention inappropriate use of boothill’s usb ports, and i couldn’t help myself. <33 as usual, enjoy!

“..and i’m supposed to plug this in?”

Boothill spun the harddrive around his fingers, staring at it with both curiosity yet suspicion. it was a hot pink color with a heart sticker sloppily slapped onto the front. you handed it to him without saying a word, leaving him beyond dumbfounded.

you simply nodded, trying hard not to burst out laughing. despite the glaringly obvious USB ports that were carved into his waist, he swore to have never actually stuck anything in them. by anything, of course, were any harddrives that could’ve been packed with whatever info or footage that would’ve automatically made it’s way into his memory. he didn’t want anyone’s weird porno or stupid memes to burn into his motherboard and live with it.

yet he had a hard time saying no to you. hell, he’d never say no to you unless it’d kill you. then again, it was probably a random assortment of cat videos you came across on your feed. it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. right?

holding up a reluctant thumbs up, you plugged the harddrive in and awaited his reaction with anticipation. boothill never looked away from your reaction, quickly noticing something was rather…off about your face. your lips curled into a seductive grin, biting down on your lower lip while hearts practically carved your pupils. your cheeks and nose were flushed a slight pink that faded to a hot red color.

yet, it was already too late for him.

his vision suddenly became a hot pink blur, the gears within his body had began to spun widely while the mini fans tried to cool down his heating body. the blood red target in his eye morphed into a pink heart while he spaced out at what was being shown in front of him.

nothing but pure pornography, some of the most explicit, flooding his memory and infecting his circuits with the love virus. boothill felt his head spin from the lewd imagery, bouncing from clip to clip of multiple sex acts all at once. from simple missionary to subs being bent in half by their ridiculously larger doms, there was even one where they were in full nelson. legs high up with thier sopping cunt in full view. it was all too much.

“so this..is what y’want me to do to ya…”

the cyborg chuckled, overwhelmed with his sudden libedo. he looks over at you with hungry eyes, flashing his shark toothed grin the moment you nodded.

“why didn’t ya say so, dollface..?”

“a-ah! m’sorry! m’sorry boothill..! i-i was only p-playing..ngh!”

your clothes were torn clean off without a damn given, leaving you bare and vulnerable as the cyborg pumped his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. just like how you wanted it, bent in half in full nelson with your legs held high as only boothill’s arms kept you from falling. his pace was unforgiving, hungrily stuffing you full like your his last meal on death row. despite your body already stiffening from the position, boothill showed no sign of stopping. his eyes, bright pink with hearts dialating for pupils, full of burning desire and a greedy lust that clouded his judgement till his mind went blank.

it was as if the cyborg was built for fucking, his only goal being to push you beyind your human limit.

“zip it, sugar. you're gonna take m’dick even when i’m done with ya, you hear?”

boothill hissed in your ear with a mean rasp, shark-like teeth nibbling away at your earlobe. the ticklish feeling only added to the intense overstimulation that turned your brain into mush. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach close to snapping for what seems like the tenth time tonight, until a sudden emptiness snapped you back into reality. looking down, you noticed how boothill pulled himself out, leaving you hanging. a whine came out of your throat almost instinctively at the neglect.

“boothilll..! i was so clo!—“

you’re words were rudely cut off as the ranger threw you onto the bed with you laying on your back. he wasted no time crawling on top of you and pressing his heavy body against yours. trapped, you couldn’t even move an inch as you squirmed under his touch. he practically caged you.

“keep whinin’ like that and I'll leave ya empty. got that?”

as difficult as it was, you pressed your lips together and screwed your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep quite. your cunny spasmed around his length as he kept going with his violent pace. even with the harddrive, you could never imagine boothill going this far. you truely underestimated the strength of the virus that infected his mechanical body with such libido, yet you don’t regret it. you continued to cry out as your limbs grew numb, your senses going blank in an orgasmic euphoria. you were teetering towards the fuckin’ edge.

you sobbed out babbles of “‘m gonna cum!~” over and over again like it was automatic. finally, the knot snapped in two as stars filled your vision. if he wasn’t made of metal, you would’ve left some nasty scratch marks.

on the other hand, the ranger watched in pure awe as his pretty baby fell apart on his dick. your fucked out expression, teary eyes and pouty lips covered in spit, only fuled him for more. you couldn’t even get a breath in as you were picked up and flipped onto your stomach, ass high up in the air.

“you think ‘m done yet sugar? hehe, that’s cute.”

you could only sigh in response, unable to do anything about your own mess. lesson learned, never fuck with a machine you know so little about.

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[azullumi]

“his habits during it” ; genshin men

warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)

summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.

characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts

tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons

words — 1265

note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking

handholding

DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.

eye contact

KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.

praises and talking dirty

AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.

playing with your hair

KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.

lots of kisses

TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.

giving orders

CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?

restriction / holding your hands together

ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.

hands always touching and roaming around your body

ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.

biting and leaving marks

WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[kachowden]

𝙸 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢

| Hockey TeamVarious x Reader

Солнышко (Little Sun)

Yandere x reader (Part 1?)

—————————————————————————

An idea I have had for a while now.

So imagine yourself on a team. Except you’re not a player, no.

Actually..you’re technically not on the team because you’re one of a few people who rotates your position. You’re the mascot.

The beloved silly mascot of your team. The logo, the literal image of your hockey team. And you’re damn good too!

You get the crowds roaring, positively pumped-up for the game! And whether your team wins or loses, the highlights are always the silly little mascot who throws popcorn into the crowd or tosses shirts at unsuspecting families.

From time to time during the game you’d make your way onto the ice. Play fight with the team, steal a puck, steal a stick. Toss them to a crowd member. It was always in good fun, and the audience loved it!

And you weren’t just beloved by the fans, oh no no no, you were beloved by the team too.

So much so that at some point, the demand for your specific “mascotting” was so great, the other workers had to find a new career path. Damn shame too, you happened to like them quite a bit. But extra pay right? And it’s hard to deny how flattering it is being the fan favorite.

Of course it didn’t even cross your mind to question these circumstances, nor did you think to question the sudden increasing interactions you had with the team. Publicity, you assumed.

From number 47 dragging you onto the ice for some impromptu lessons. Still in costume might I add. Mid Play.

To number 13 laughing joyfully as he shoved you into the locker room after an intense game, and offered to wash your back for spending so long in such a sweaty suit. You denied him of course, the locker rooms weren’t meant for you! Duh.

You didn’t even question when number 1, the captain and goalie of the team, braced you against a barrier during half time, when your mask had precariously been knocked off by a rowdy fan. Nor did you see the viscous scowls directed at said fan. It was probably just keep your identity safe after all.

The score was 7 to 0 that game, in favour of your team. You weren’t sure what had pumped them up so much but whatever works right?

Course, you did get a puck to the cheek at one point and had to sub out for a bit. The players were non too happy when they discovered a different worker under your special suit. They were in a bad mood for the remainder of the game.

Number 19, who had a pension for bad behavior on the ice, sought you out specifically after the game too.

———-47—————19————1—————13———-

Your shoulders sagged tiredly against the cool wall of the changing room, blessing the AC that pumped through the units. Your jersey stuck sweatily to your skin, and you gasped with a dry mouth before a gloved hand appeared in your vision, a water bottle covered in condensation presented before you like a holy grail.

“You look like shit.” A scratchy voice scolds lightly by your ear, your eyes fluttering to glance at the rugged features of one of the team players settled besides your face, wedged deep into your personal space. The scent of sweat and body spray (axe probably) wafts into your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch instinctively before you give a lopsided smile.

“Hey Donovan, s’nice to see you. How’s the play been?” You gratefully take the cold bottle from his grasp, finger tips grazing the rough and warm texture of his gloves before meeting the cool plastic of the team merchandise bottle. Your little mascot stared back at you in a 2D style.

“Shitty. You’re supposed to be out there, not some random loser who can’t even get the crowd excited right. Now the teams pissed and it’s your fault.” His words end in a sneer, despite the attentive way his eyes are raking across your figure for injury beyond the welt on your cheek bone. His body near touches yours and causes another wave of sweat to seep into your skin.

With a thoughtful hum and a sip of refreshing water you push yourself from the locker, stepping into the more open air and cooling yourself off, while dark brown eyes watch you beneath a furrowed, displeased brow.

“Your guys’s concern flatters me. It’s nice having such thoughtful co-workers.” Your lips smile thoughtfully, glancing at him from your shoulder.

He looks incredulous, which somehow lands on being the least aggressive expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Co-workers?” He echoes, like the word is the most foul tasting thing that’s ever touched his tongue. “We’re teammates. Not co-workers.”

You wave your hand dismissively, back turned and unaware of the tall figure that approaches your bubble again from behind. “Well, you and the guys definitely are. Maybe even the ice scrapers, though I’d argue they’re in the same realm as me to be honest. More staff than anything yknow?” Your tone is light, you know what your position is. And of course you’re grateful to be the main mascot, but you’re aware of your replacements that stand idle at the food stands, handing out popcorn between half times.

“I mean I’m just the person in the suit, anyone could play that part. I just hope I could train the next guy that signs up for the position, gotta make sure they do my legacy justice right-“

Big hands, no longer covered by scratchy material grip into your hips, swallowing the skin in raw heat and tugging you backwards. Your feet stumble and trip for less then a second before you’ve collided into a broad chest. The feeling of a hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, covering up your barely escaped laugh and choke.

Hair tickles the side of your forehead, as Donovan leans over your shoulder. His eyes set forward to the opposing wall lockers just like your own, his thumbs rubbing thoughtless shapes into your skin. He exhales, like he’s just spent the last four hours dealing with an ill tempered toddler that he’s finally reached his wits end with.

“You’re stupid.”

Your lips part in offense, ready to defend your intelligence before you’re prematurely silenced by a new hand that joins the mass of limbs, and rests gently across your dry lips.

“Let him finish, Солнышко.”(Solnishko)*

A thick accent reverberates into your ears, your eyes darting up to meet pale blue ones that gaze back at you so sternly. White teeth peer past his lips in what was probably a smile, but looked like a show of dominance with the way his canines sunk into the bottom of his lip.

“Don’t you have a team to manage, Cap?” Donovan snarls, teeth bared with displeasure at his private time with you being interrupted. With his arms circling more around your figure in a loose version of a back hug. You stay trapped between the two behemoths that cease every noise and shift of your joints with careful hands.

Carlson smiles, a thoughtful one that softens at you, his eyes never leaving yours now that he has your full attention, something that raises Donovan’s ire significantly. “I heard our little mascot wasn’t doing to well. I wanted to check up on them. I may have heard your little conversation as well.”

The word “little” always manages to filter into Carlsons sentences. And while one could blame it on English only being his second language, his reputation for being the teams most well spoken member speaks volumes otherwise. No, the real reason would have to be the sheer height he holds above all others. The authority he possesses that seeps into the rink and every room he walks into.

It’s not a simple slip of the tongue. It’s a reminder. That he is above every one he meets. He is the captain, and what he says is absolute.

Even the way he gazes down at you screams this thought, bullying its way into your skull as your brain refuses to acknowledge the sheer possessive, demeaning energy that seeps from his figure into yours, despite the alarm bells it rings through your system.

“It breaks my heart, Солнышко. You should know better.” His thumb curves along your jaw, thoughtful again, and practiced, engulfing your entire chin in what could be a crushing grip. But it isn’t, and it never will be. Not to you anyway. “Have we not shown you how much we adore your support in the rink? Have we been too dismissive of you?” He continues, though the mocking edge is nearly unnoticeable.

Donovan’s breath huffs into the shell of your ear, his figure hunched over you like a protective cloak, eyes still staring daggers at the taller man. “You think the team can we wait for us to…help remind our dear mascot how much we care about them?”

There’s a thoughtful hum, eye contact still unbroken through each word. “I’m sure they’ll be mad they didn’t get to join…but their forms were lacking today. They could use the extra practice.”

Carlson leaned forward, sky like eyes darkening like the sea as his nose hovers mere breathes from your own. “And I’ve heard that teaching in…more intimate settings, can lead to greater success in many fields..”

.

.

.

.

.

“Again.”

“I will not think lowly of my position on the team, I will not think of myself as replaceable, because I am the best-“

“Fucking.”

“….the best fucking mascot in the world. I am irreplaceable. I am the best.”

“Very good. Again.”

“It’s been 30 minutes!”

“Well last time we did 15 and that still wasn’t enough, so now we must double our efforts, Солнышко. Again.”

“Afterwards I’ll buy you one of those pretzels you like. If you want, I guess.”

“…….yeah okay.”

[dollfacefantasy]

Like Lovers Do

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits

word count: 2.1k

a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3

Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.

“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.

His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”

You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.

“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.

Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.

“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.

Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.

“Do you?” he teases back.

“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”

You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.

Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.

As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.

The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door 

“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class. 

A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.

“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.

He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.

“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.

Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.

“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.

“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.

His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.

This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.

You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.

In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.

“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,” he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.

The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.

He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.

“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.

He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.

“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”

You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.

“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.

He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.

“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.

Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.

“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.

You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.

“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.

He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.

“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.

“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.

Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.

“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.

He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.

You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.

“Give ‘em to me,” he says.

You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.

He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”

You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.

“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.

[rodolfoparras]

not to be crazy but reader being crazy obsessed over dragon!price. maybe reader's a hybrid, or maybe he's just a human; but it doesn't matter, not when all he cares about is john, john, john, john. a reader who's so obsessed price, no matter what he does or say, cannot seem to get rid of you. in the peripherals of his vision he is haunted by you, whether you are actually there or not, you have infested his mind just as much as he's infested yours.

a reader who's so obsessed he'll go up against creatures much stronger and older than he is, against creatures with teeth and claws and magic that hums in their veins - but that magic and claws and teeth are all usually against a man who's sole purpose is to live for another man, for a man who you're so deeply and dearly enamored with. their size and strength and whatever mystical, non-human features are all useless against you, whose veins scream for violence and blood, who scream at you to get rid of anyone that so much as breathes your john's way.

and price isn't sure whether to be impressed or disturbed by the amount of heads that arrive packaged onto his desk, the dismembered limbs he throws out with distaste on his tongue. it boggles his mind whenever he finds out you've gotten rid of yet another hybrid, how someone like you - either a human man or a weaker hybrid of sorts - have managed to become the personification of death itself.

he's more exasperated when he somehow finds out you've been stalking him, finds the collection of polaroids of him stored away somewhere, finds a shrine just for him, than he is frightened. he's never had anyone be so obsessed with him the way you are in all his years of living, and despite himself, with every corpse or limb found, with every sickly love letter finding itself on his desk, with stolen clothes finding itself in your bedroom or laundry, with the little bloodied gifts you leave him, it has his draconic instincts purring at a potential mate.

Cw: 18+, dragon!Price, dragon! male reader obsessiveness, stalking, scent kink, masturbation, voyarism, exhibitionism, briefly Nikolai x Price, brief mention & depiction of dismemberment, yandere!reader, yandere!Price

It all started with a small act of kindness. You were getting scolded by a superior for something you’d done- had almost gotten kicked out of your squad because of that, when suddenly Price had swooped in and uttered a little white lie “he didn’t mean it, I’ll keep him in check don’t worry about it general” and got you out of trouble in a matter of seconds

Truth be told Price forgot all about you after that encounter but you couldn’t forget about him. You spent every waking moment learning about him who he was - a dragon hybrid and a captain- what he’d done- fought in wars and served everything from kings to generals - learned all about who he keeps in his inner circle - it had once been his mate now it’s mostly his squad and oh his mate -she was absolutely beautiful- a dragon hybrid just like him. They’d been together for years until she’d gotten killed.

That’s at least what you had read in one of the many journal he keeps in his room. You had snuck in one day when he left for a mission with the intentions to just look around but you had ended up with your clothes on the floor and fucking one of his pillows just because it smelled like him, - soap and cologne still embedded into the pristine white fabric, and still carrying the imprint from where his head once had been. So of course you folded the pillow right in the middle and slid your cock inside of it, losing yourself in its tight and warm grip, pretending it was the stand offish dragon captain you were fucking before spilling ropes of cum all over the sheets.

Then it came to the over protectiveness. You really wouldn’t call it that. You just wanted to make sure he was alright. So what if you watched him through the cracks of his office door while he held conversations with Nikolai? And what if you stayed as his lips crashed onto the Russians, while your hand slipped down your pants and what if you snuck into Price’s room the morning after and buried your face in his underwear just so you know that Nikolai didn’t take it any further?

But Price knew- could feel your eyes on him as he lined Nikolai’s cockhead up with his entrance. Price knew -could hear your growl and the way your hand stroked your cock as he bounced on Nikolai’s cock. Price knew- and he enjoyed it, tipped over the edge at the sheer thought of it, vision turning blurry and ears ringing as he slumped into the other man’s embrace.

So it wasn’t to any surprise when he discovered the Polaroids you kept of him, stashed under your mattress but poking out enough for him to get a glimpse. He had come to your room to talk about your recent behavior. Things had started to get out of hand. He didn’t really care that you watched his every step. What he did care about were the soldiers that had mysteriously gone missing, soldiers he’d gotten into minor arguments with prior to the incident, but eventually popped back up in his office or rather his desk- body completely dismembered and limbs neatly wrapped, reminding him of a Christmas Day in hell and Price was sure he knew who was behind it

There were plenty of Polaroids, so much so they made up an entire album.

Some were rather innocent in nature, snapshots of him while he was smoking a cigar or talking with Kate or any member of 141 . The photographs were blurry - unfocused almost as if you’d accidentally taken them but he knew that wasn’t the case. Some were a bit more suggestive: a close up shot of his ass while he was maneuvering the shooting range or a shot of his scantily clad lower half as he held a training session with the team. He could only imagine what you did with those,

But there were more polaroids, snapshots of him while he’s clearly asleep, blissfully unaware of what’s happening. Going by the murky surroundings, the pictures must’ve been taken whenever the two of you were out on a mission together and shared a tent.

Some were close up shots of his face, cheeks dusted in pink and hair in disarray, completely unaware of what’s happening. Other Polaroids were blurry shots of his body, silver of skin peaking through the clothes he’s wearing, probably a direct cause from all the tossing and turning he’d done in his sleep. Despite the nature of them, they were rather innocent, reminding you of causal snapshots someone would take of their lover.

But something about that had heat creeping up his cheek, blood pooling straight to his dick.

He could imagine you sprawled out on your bed, or seated in his office chair, one hand holding a Polaroid; probably a snapshot of him smoking a cigar, while the other hand was stroking your cock.

Disgusting he thinks as his hand shakily unbuckles his jeans, doesn’t even bother to take a seat.

How could he allow anyone as sick as you into his team? He thinks, hand grasping his dick, that’s already hard and weeping.

He should report you for misconduct and get you kicked out of the army, he thinks, thumb swiping over his tip, smearing around the pre that had been collecting there as grunts and groans escapes his lips

All thoughts escape his head as he sets a steady pace with his hand, stroking root to tip while his free hand fondles his ball sack.

“Fuck!” He grunts out, eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back as he fucks into his own hand.

“John?”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the unveiling

buttercup, chapter five

a/n: I mean, I just had to make him wear the black suit.... (said in a foreshadowing way)

summary: you only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, injuries, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3236

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Your eyes fluttered shut a moment as you felt the cool night breeze caress your features. You hadn’t bothered with a coat, so it was simply a woollen blanket you clutched around your pyjamas. 

Jumping slightly, you whirled around as you heard one of the doors up to the rooftop creak open. 

“Oh!” you clutched your chest as you discovered the identity of the intruder, “it’s just you.” 

“Hey,” Matt closed the door that led directly down into his loft. 

“I was just about to call you actually, or knock on your door, but then I figured that you were probably asleep,” you eyed the dark sweatpants he wore as well as the t-shirt that clung to his brawny arms as he stepped closer to where you stood, a vision that caused sinful thoughts to stir within your mind, “how did you know I was up here?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” his touch found your lower back as he reached you, “I just heard a noise.”

“Well, it’s just me,” you turned your gaze back to the night sky. 

Tilting his head, he checked, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just couldn’t sleep,” you nodded, “but I’m okay.”

His eyes twitched slightly as the faintest of smiles threatened at his lips, “so you didn’t wanna call me because something was wrong.”

“No…” you bit down on your smile, “I was just thinking about you…” the smug smirk that then bloomed on his face caused you to instantly chuckle with regret, “oh, that came out sounding a lot more dirty than I intended it to,” the meaning behind your words had been dirty, but he didn’t have to revel in it. Curling his arm around you, his laughter mixed and mingled with your own as you soon exhaled, “man, I should probably head back to bed soon, try and give sleep another chance. I just–, urgh,” you let out an adorable groan and buried your face in his broad shoulder, “I don’t wanna leave now that you’re here.”

“I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he suggested, his tone staying on the lighter side as to not build up any pressure, “you’re welcome to come sleep in my bed if you want to.”

“O-oh,” your gaze fluttered up to flicker across his face, “alright, sure.” 

Stepping inside and descending the creaky staircase, the living room was lit up in bright fluorescent shades of lavender by the huge billboard directly outside. Letting the blanket around you drop to the coffee table, you eyed Matt’s dark bedroom before his hand found yours. 

“What side do you prefer to sleep on?” you asked as you neared the dusty grey linens adorning his bed. 

“I’m fine with either,” his fingers gently brushed across your knuckles before you let go of him. 

“Alright,” you slipped in under the silky covers on the side of the bed nearest to you. As he crawled in on the other side, you drew in a sharp breath, “well,” tugging your knees up further towards your chest, you didn’t dare to twist and look at him even though you wished for so much more than a glimpse, “goodnight, Matt.”

His knuckles briefly found your back, caressing it just for a second before he uttered, “night.”

You had never been further from slumber than you were lying there in Matt’s bed. Just the knowledge of him resting right behind you had you hyper-aware of everything. Lying as still as a rock…your ragged breathing… your wild pulse… but mostly the throbbing between your thighs…

Turning slowly to lie on your back, your hand came down to rest on the mattress but landed instead on Matt’s gently closed fist. Instinctively, you yanked it back, recoiled from his warmth just a second before you carefully let your fingers shyly slide across the covers to find him again. The coy dance beneath the duvet was playful till his digits unravelled and welcomed yours. 

“…Matt?” your voice came out no louder than a whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

Glancing over at his visage in the darkness, you asked, “are you very tired?” 

With a gentle smile blooming on his lip, a soft shake tilted his head from side to side against the pillow, “no.”

Curling closer, his arms tangled around you in an instant. When your lips brushed against each other at first, for a while it was just this sweet and slow midnight kiss, nothing more, nothing less. But when you nuzzled in nearer, the simple peck grew into something much more heated. 

Your leg curled up over his hip, gliding it lavishly against him as his tongue slid across your own. His strong arms felt so incredible around you, but you wanted more, you needed more. 

On an exhale, he rolled onto his back, but you weren’t quite sure if he had dragged you with him or if you had clung to him, perhaps a mixture of both. All you knew was that now you were sprawled out on top of him, completely melted against his chest as his lips were still locked with yours.

When you adjusted yourself slightly and shifted down further, your hips instinctively rolled enticingly as you settled atop of his growing hardness, already straining against his sweatpants and desperate to be hugged by your warmth. He let out a low groan as his wide palms slid down the length of your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

Parting briefly, you breathed, “Matt?”

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips nipped at your jaw. 

“You sure you’re not tired?” your eyes threatened to flutter shut. 

“I’m sure,” his hands slid back up to your waist as he let his kisses fade.

Blinking down at him in the darkness, you felt as if your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment, “do you wanna, maybe–, uhm… you know…”

“Do you want to?” his thumb soothingly circled your side and your hips unintentionally rolled once more. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

Your confirmation caused a smile to tug at his lips as he uttered, “okay.”

“Can I–…” your teeth briefly caught your bottom lip, “can I take your shirt off?”

A warm chuckle rumbled within his chest as he nodded lightly. Sitting up, your frame followed along as you didn’t shift to get out of his lap. As your fingers dug into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, he let you pull it off of him yourself. 

You couldn’t make out too many of the fine details that decorated his physic, but perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps that’d make it easier. You could always study every millimetre of him later. Right now, the dim vision of him the night granted you was more than enough to turn you into a puddle. 

Running your hands over his bare skin, they only stayed a moment before straying away from the warmth to yank your own top off. 

One of his hands swiftly soared up and gently caught one of your boobs. A shuttering moan flew from your lips, inadvertently letting Matt know that his intuitive move wasn’t unwelcome, allowing his assurance to grow as he permitted his caresses to move more freely. 

Seizing your lips as he softly squeezed your peak, his kisses then began to migrate and dance down the column of your neck till they reached your tits, his palm cupping one closer to his attentive mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as his lips enclosed around one of your pebbly nipples, his tongue swirling over it before he nipped, causing your core to clench around nothing. 

You couldn’t help but stuff a hand into your pyjama pants and offer yourself an ounce of relief. 

Gliding his touch down to your bottom, his fingers fleetingly dug into your ass before they slid up to your hips, hooking his digits in the fabric. And with his face still buried in your tits, littering the soft skin with hickeys, Matt slightly tugged at your waistband, “do you want these off?”

Your answer came out sounding breathy, “yes,” before you stopped playing with yourself as he then helped pull both your pants and the soaked underwear beneath them off. 

As you settled back down into his lap, he pulled you in and seized your lips. Fingers finding your glistening folds once more, his soon joined yours, digits briefly weaving before your own touch began to falter and you let him take over entirely. 

Your head tilted back when he eased a finger inside of your creamy cunt, your juices swiftly coated his digit and dripped down his hand as he caressed you at an overwhelmingly slow pace. His touch made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud and you were already so far gone that when he filled you up with another finger, dreamily giving your eager pussy just a little bit more, you tumbled over the edge. 

Eyes only half open as you watched him curve down to plant soft kisses all along your ribs, both of his solid arms wrapped around you and keeping you up as you panted, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “you wanna keep going?”

“Please,” your fingers then tried to push down the remainder of his clothing, “I wanna feel you,” he swiftly aided your efforts and slipped his dark sweatpants off, “I wanna feel all of you.”

Reaching a long arm over into the nightstand’s drawer, Matt fished out a little foil packet. Your foreheads joined and pressed up against one another as he rolled the latex on. 

His fingers grasped onto the base of his girth, silkily stroking himself as you supported your wobbly balance on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you raised your hips further up. Reaching a hand down, your touch met his as he teased his tip against your puff, nudging at your swollen clit before parting your petals in a lush motion. Your palm briefly floated up to your mouth and collected a dollop of saliva before you lowered it back down, only taking a second to glisten his throbbing cock up with it before you dragged him down towards your entrance. 

“Oh my god…” you moaned shakily as you slowly began to sink down upon him, shallowly at first as his arm tightened around your waist to support you, “fuck…” 

Trailing his other palm up your quivering thigh, he groaned, “that’s it, take your time,” before his fingers settled where you united, “fuck, you’re doing so good,” he rolled your clit slowly under his calluses, your nectar dripping down his length as you gradually slid further down.

When his dick eventually settled so deep within you that you thought the night sky would appear on the ceiling of his bedroom, you pressed a breathless kiss to his lips. 

As you gave his shoulders a slight push, his frame rested back down against the mattress and you followed suit. Tits smooshed down against his chest, his fingers had disappeared from your puffy pearl as you just stayed there a moment, frozen as you took in the staggering sensation of what he felt like buried so deep inside of you that it made you lightheaded.

“This,” you uttered thickly, “this is what I thought about earlier,” your laboured breaths fanned across his face, “and you wanna know what?”

“What?” his answer flowed from him swiftly.

A smile bloomed on your lips as your hips began to roll, “my imagination couldn’t even come close to how amazing you feel.”

As you found a gentle pace, a low moan escaped Matt’s lips as the details of his cock dragged against your silky walls, “christ, sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but buck up into you, an instinct that earned him a lewd whimper of approval.

Keeping up his own efforts, you briefly stole a sloppy peck from him before your spine straightened back up and you established a new and intoxicating rhythm. 

“Fuck, that’s it, there you go,” he grunted as you rode him, the majority of his length never strayed from the warmth of your pussy as you electrically rolled and rocked atop of him, “atta girl,” his fingers dug into your hips, “god, you feel so good, fucking perfect.”

As your fingers lowered to find your clit, the bouncing pace you’d found slowly began to waver as you felt yourself begin to near the end once more. Your form then collapsed back down against his as your hips tried and failed to keep up the same euphoric pattern you’d found before. 

But as soon as Matt’s hips thrust beneath you, effortlessly hitting a molten spot deep within you that you’d barely managed before on your own, all of your brief worries melted away. 

“Matt-,” your face smooshed against his chest as you panted, “h-holy shit!”

Holding your hips steady, he ravenously bucked up into you, “please keep making those noises for me, sweetheart,” his low growl harmonised with the lewd melody of his desperate efforts, “you sound so fucking good.”

As you felt your pussy clamper around him so hard it nearly halted his movements completely, your fingers sought out your nipples in a harsh pinch, trembling above him and crying out as you came undone. 

With how tight your cunt clenched down around his throbbing girth, even if Matt didn’t wish for the marvellous moment to end just yet, perhaps fantasise about dragging it out till the sun rose, he couldn't help it as your pussy milked him so perfectly of all of his worth and he joined you in the boneless tangle of satisfaction. 

Sluggishly, you clung to him, utterly melted atop of his frame even as he carefully pulled out and nimbly snaked an arm between your limp forms to peel off the spent condom and toss it. 

His chest rose and fell with every deep breath beneath your head as he eventually asked, “how do you feel?” 

Letting yourself ponder a second and uncover the answer through your haze, you only found yourself thawing further down against him as you let your eyes flutter shut and uttered, “safe.”

Rain hammered against the windows as you rushed out of the door. The sun was nowhere to be seen yet, but your day had already begun. 

As you locked your front door with a dull click, a worrying thud halted your feet from scurrying along. 

Whirling your head around, you glanced to the source of the concerning crash, at your neighbour’s door, before slowly walking up and letting your fist softly collide with it. There never came an answer, not even when you tried again, that time more forcefully.

Unable to shake that unsettling concern off of you, your feet carried you up to the roof and the apartment’s emergency exit. As your fingers enclosed around the cold knob, you momentarily snapped yourself out of your unease.  

Maybe something wasn’t wrong. Maybe Matt hadn’t hurt himself and desperately needed help. Maybe, even though your ears had interpreted the sound as something troublesome, it could have just been that he wasn’t alone, that perhaps you weren’t the only girl he let into his bed, perhaps one more prone to making a ruckus. 

Either way, it wasn’t under any circumstances appropriate for you to not only invade his privacy, but literally break into his home, yet you still found your fingers slowly twisting the door handle. 

Just one peek. If he didn’t need someone to call for an ambulance, then you’d slip right back out, even if whatever the true cause was broke your heart. 

You only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

You scarcely breathed as you slowly neared him. Even in the low pre-dawn light, you were able to make out the slashes that tore up parts of his black suit. Carefully, you kneeled down beside him as your eyes scanned over his wounded frame. 

You had to do something. The vigilante had saved your life, so the very least you could do was repay him the favour. 

Spotting a trickle of crimson drip down from beneath his black mask, streaking down across his gruff jaw, with a trembling hand you pulled the mask further up to get a better look at how grave the injury was, only for you to discover who was hiding behind the disguise.

“…Matt?”

Settled on the couch and with a dark blanket draped over him, only covering some of the scars the darkness hadn’t let you spot previously, Matt stirred awake. 

From one of the armchairs, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as you uttered, “hi,” your voice came out sounding small and fragile.

Freezing up, Matt’s head tilted toward you, “Y/n?” he cautiously spoke, “what–… when did you get here?”

“A few minutes before Foggy did,” his friend had shown up, concerned out of his mind when Matt hadn’t answered his phone after recklessly throwing himself into a stupidly dangerous plan. He’d stayed a while, for as long as he could till he eventually had to leave, “I heard a noise, thought something was wrong and you needed help…”

“You–… you know…” he stated, and you just let your crushing silence confirm it, “…did you patch me up?” 

“No, that was a friend of yours that Foggy called–, Claire I think, but that was a while ago. You were out cold for a really long time,” you averted your gaze and stared down at your hands, letting the silence momentarily consume the space before you hesitantly opened your mouth once more, “…how do you–… Foggy tried to explain to some extent, but how do you–, how do you do it?” 

“It’s complicated,” he said slowly, letting out a hushed groan as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position. 

“Complicated, how?” 

A low exhale flowed from his lips before he uttered, “…I know that yesterday you worked with strawberries. You didn’t eat any, but I can still smell them beneath your fingernails from when you cut them up… I know you’re hungry right now and the only thing you’ve eaten since breakfast was an apple a bit ago. I can still taste it off your lips… and I know that me telling you all of that is making you uncomfortable… because I can hear your heartbeat… but I’m not scaring you.”

Blinking back at him, you saw your chest rise and fall rapidly in your periphery, “wow… I mean, Foggy did say that your senses were sharp, but that–… I can’t fucking believe it…”

Bowing his head lightly, his jaw clenched, “you have every right to be angry–”

“Angry?” you repeated, your eyes growing wide, “Matt… it’s you. It was you…” tears began to blur up your vision, “did you–… did you know who I was when I moved in here or was that first when I told you about that night?”

Staying quiet a moment, he eventually nodded, “yeah. I knew… I am so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Matt,” rising from the chair, at an instant, you’d crossed to his side and sat down on the couch beside him, “you helped me, you saved me. That was you. You’re–…” hands drifting up to carefully cup his scruffy cheeks, you uttered, “you’re him.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lordprettyflackotara]

Chapter Eleven || Hitchhiker || The Proxies

no tw’s for this chapter

a/n: next chapter finna be just a little just a tad just the slightest bit unhinged

<— previous chapter

“How much longer until she’s awake?”

“There’s not even a rough estimate I can give you. Shes lost a lot of blood. But nevertheless, you need to think of a payment method.”

“Can you at least let her wake up before you start yapping about getting reimbursed?”

“Considering The Operator would hang me if he found out i’m helping any of you, I think not.”

You shifted uncomfortably, stiff metal underneath you as you began to stir. “The Operator hangs people?” You mumbled. You felt your wrist and ankles being restricted, causing your eyes to fly open. You were secured to a metal operating table, leather straps securing your wrist to your sides and your ankles to stay straight. You began to thrash under the restraints, panicking. “Woah woah woah it’s okay, relax,” Brian ushered. Three people stood around you, two of which you actually recognized.

Toby and Brian stood to your left, Toby’s eyes filled with concern. On your right, was someone you’ve never seen before. A blue mask with eerie black eye sockets stared down at you. A jet black hoodie hid any other features, your mind starting to spin. “Holy fuck, what the fuck, what the fucking fuck,” You rambled, trying to move away from the unknown masked man. Brian grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you down. “Relax it’s just EJ, he here to help,” He said, attempting to comfort you. The tall man known as EJ seemed unamused, tilting his head to the side.

“If this is how she reacts to me standing here, what was her reaction to Toby’s face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What about his face?” You questioned. You blinked a few times, trying to understand why your vision was so blinded. “J-Jesus Christ dude move the l-lamp,” Toby intervened. He shoved the blinding spotlight out of the way, allowing your vision to settle. Brian and EJ began undoing your restraints, allowing you to sit up. As you did you hissed in pain, grabbing your stomach. “Take it easy. You’ll rip the stitches,” Brian said. He placed his large hand on your upper back, helping you sit up slowly.

“If you rip them i’m not stitching them up again,” EJ grumbled unhappily. He helped Toby free your ankles, your hands rubbing your wrist. “Is there a particular reason you had me tied up?” You inquired. Brian looked at EJ before answering. “There’s a chance that you could’ve had a seizure during your surgery,” He said slowly. You blinked a few times, lifting up your shirt. It was oversized on you and smelled like Toby. You almost asked how your clothes had been changed, but then you remembered Nova. “Yes, when my patients move during my operation it’s quite irritable,” EJ added. Your eyes searched the room, looking past the three that surrounded you.

“Where’s Nova? Is she alright? And Tim?” You asked. You went to jump off of the table, Toby stopping you. “T-They’re fine. They’re outside,” Toby informed you. It then occurred to you that you didn’t recognize your surroundings, at all. You appeared to be in a small cabin, a small fire crackling in the nearby living room. Despite how tiny it seemed, the soft essence made it comfortable. “EJ only let two of us in at a time. And it’s better Nova and Toby don’t get partnered together,” Brian explained. You glanced at EJ, whose soulless gaze seemed to stare directly into your soul. “Those regulations are over, if you’re going to stay here I need to have a meeting with all of you,” EJ said plainly. He sounded so unamused. So unfazed. As he removed his hands from his hoodie you noticed his ash gray skin.

Maybe all kinds of monsters were actually real, not just the one terrorizing you. Toby helped you over to the couch, Brian off to get Tim and Nova. Once you were all seated, EJ stood in front of you. Tim tried his hardest not to look at you, the guilt of almost getting you killed eating him alive. “I have been friends with The Operator for a long time. Longer than some of you have been born,” EJ began. Friends? Was this guy for real? You glanced over at Nova, whose gaze reminded on EJ. Despite her eyes looking elsewhere, she affectionately put her hand on top of yours. You wanted to question her sudden affection, the two of you hardly hugging before you met the boys. “I’m just going to say it like it is. The five of you are not going to make it out of this alive. I estimate maybe two or three of you. But not all of you,” He continued. You were searching for Toby and Brian’s reactions, the two listening intently.

You expected Tim to argue. Toby to interrupt. Brian to mumble an insult. But they all sat perfectly still, listening to the creature before them. Whoever EJ was, he meant business. “Which of the three of you survives depends on how you want to play your cards,” EJ stated flatly. Tim crossed his arms. “Skip over the drama and get to the point please,” He huffed. Despite EJ’s gaze being concealed by a mask, it wasn’t hard to sense that he despised being interrupted. “Nova and Y/n you’re both targets. Given the situation I suspect we won’t have any visitors for a while. He wants to push Nova to the point of suicide and I can only assume for Y/n he wants her as a proxy,” EJ continued. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Toby put his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“I can smell your curiosity. Being willing to die in an instant for someone you care about is noble. Too noble. He wants to exercise that nobility to its fullest extent,” He explained. Could he read thoughts too? What did he mean by he could smell you? “So what’s your recommendation for a plan wise guy?” Tim asked. EJ thought for a moment, his body stilling as he thought to himself. “Keep moving until your legs hurt. Train the girl to look after herself. Maybe start to pray,” He suggested sarcastically. Tim frowned as he stood up, glaring at EJ. “Dont push your luck Tim. You’re lucky she’s made it this far anyways,” The demon said plainly. Tim stormed outside, slamming the door behind him. You rose from the couch, abandoning Nova and Toby to shoot daggers at one another. You brushed past EJ, avoiding his eerie gaze.

You reached Tim on the back porch, a cigarette in between his fingers. “Tim…” You started. The brunette refused to look at you, leaning against the wooden railing of the porch. Endless rows of trees surrounded the cabin, the sun beaming through the leafs above. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for this,” You say. Tim flicked some ash off of his cigarette, before returning it to his lips. “My selfishness and greed landed you here. You know it,” He said harshly. A breeze blew past the two of you, your hand involuntarily cradling your wound. You slowly walked over to him, each step taking all of your energy. “Tim, I wanted this,” You argued. Tim noticed how weak you were, his gaze now avoiding looking at you. If he were to, he’d fold and want to touch you.

“You wanted a life stealing demon attached to you? I don’t think so,” Tim debated. You put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I wanted you. The three of you. Everything else will work itself out,” You replied. Tim finally turned to face you, carelessly tossing his cigarette aside. “Tim I can’t do this without you. Masky isn’t enough. I need you too,” You say softly. You bring your hands to his face, cupping it. Tim brought his gloved hands to your wrist, admiring your soft features. When was the last time anyone preferred him over Masky? “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am,” Tim whispered. His eyes became glassy, internally fighting the urge to cry. “You can show me,” You suggested. This made Tim chuckle, the brunette delivering a kiss to your forehead. “With your stitches healing? Absolutely not. Nice try princess,” He chuckled.

He leaned his forehead against yours, your gaze meeting his. “Hey Tim?” You whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his large hands settling on your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Tim’s lips met yours, his kiss hungry and soft. He tasted like cigarettes and spearmint, your eyes fluttering shut. Your lips moved against his in harmony, the two of you like magnetics. You couldn’t help but feel more drawn to him, your hands gripping his jacket to bring him closer. Tim pulled away first, his face visibly flushed. He gave you a smile, before gathering both of your hands into his own. “I’m going to do everything to protect you. You’re going to be one of the three that survive,” He promised you. He brought you to his chest, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

In the distance, beyond a few rows of trees, the unknowing couple had an observer. He wasn’t a tall slender being like his boss, no. He was something much worse, much more sinister. Unlike his boss, who deployed mindless drones to continue his reign of terror, he considered himself to be much different. He preferred this. To be alone, slaughtering those he was instructed to. It gave him a justification. It gave him a pleasure so strong it was nearly greater than an orgasm.

He was tasked with finishing what Kate started. Except this time, where the chips fall where they may lay. The Operator was very clear. There were no restrictions now. Masky, Hoodie, and Toby, could easily be eliminated as well if they interfered with his task. Crouched in a tree his eyebrows furrowed as he observed you and Tim. You had three lovers? Possibly a fourth with the hot headed detective? He tilted his head to the side as Tim kissed you again. You were an intriguing target indeed. As he fiddled with his metal claws, he couldn’t help but wonder if any of you had figured out the truth yet.

The Operator didn’t want you as a proxy anymore, he wanted you dead.

\/

“Guys seriously I can get in bed just fine i’m okay,” You protested. Toby and Tim had been carrying you everywhere, determined to baby you to the highest extent. You refused to acknowledge or admit how much your stomach hurt. “You got stabbed through the kidney. It’s a miracle not only that you survived, but that EJ didn’t take the opportunity to eat it,” Tim said. They lowered you on to the bed, the oversized pants you were clothed with sagging. “EJ eats kidneys?” You questioned. You could feel your stomach churn. Tim went silent for a moment, realizing he hadn’t thought twice about what he had said.

“H-he eats much much more than that. But we were ver-r-ry clear in our deal with him,” Toby intervened. You propped yourself up against the headboard, the ancient oil lamp on your nightstand accompanying you with a dim light. “What deal?” You asked. Tim ran his fingers through his hair. “Dont worry about it,” He said, steering the conversation in a different direction. You frowned. Toby made himself quite comfortable beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Where’s Brian?” You asked. You leaned your head against Toby’s chest, trying to ignore how sore your body felt. “Out on patrol with Nova and EJ. There is no telling who The Operator might try to send here now that Kate’s dead,” Tim stated.

The memory of the blade of the axe slamming down into her skull resurfaced in your mind. The cold blooded killer in question was cuddling you like a teddy bear. He was humming to himself, like he hadn’t committed atrocious acts against God. Tim’s eyes flickered between you and Toby, the brunette swallowing. “Well, i’ll leave you guys to it,” Tim said quietly. He turned to leave, causing you to lean forward to try to grab his wrist. You hissed in pain at the sudden movement, your hand flying down to your healing wound. Your whine caused Tim to turn around, looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Please stay. I need all of the support I can get right now,” You admitted weakly. Tim glanced at Toby, who gave him a subtle nod. The bed was a full sized one at most. Tim sighed, sliding off his boots and jacket. “You’re lucky I-” Tim began, stopping dead in his tracks once he realized what words were about to fall off of his lips. Your eyes widened, your heart beginning to race. Tim didn’t deserve to say those words to you. He didn’t think he was worthy. “You’re just lucky, princess,” He finished. He shuffled over to the other side of the bed, sliding in beside you. It was then a knock on the door drew your attention, a tired Brian stumbling inside.

“Please for the love of God let me sleep with you guys instead of being on patrol,” He pleaded. You raised your eyebrows, glancing at Tim. “What’s wrong?” He questioned. Brian sighed, shoving off his hoodie. You couldn’t help but momentarily stare at his built chest. He only wore a thin wife beater underneath, the sight making your heart skip a a beat. “EJ and Nova won’t stop yapping. They won’t stop talking and it’s driving me insane. The point of being on watch is to be subtle. Something neither of them know how to do apparently,” He groaned. Brian plopped down onto the bed, carefully laying his head on your inner thighs.

“A demon and Nova. S-sounds like the p-p-perfect match to me!” Toby snickered. You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. Tim laid his head on your shoulder, your right hand lacing its fingers with his. Your left found its way to Brian’s hair, playing with the locs as his eyes fluttered shut. “Shut up Toby,” Tim grumbled. You knew it wasn’t always going to be this easy. Recovery was going to be a bitch. Your mind began to spin, your eyes wide open as fears circulated around your mind. Tim seemed to notice your tension, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Relax princess we’re right here. No ones going anywhere.”

Your feet seemed to carry themselves, trudging through the forest. Thick vines littered themselves across the ground, causing you to consistently look down to watch your step. When you finally looked up, your eyes widened. A rusty gate fenced in what appeared to be a small graveyard. A cold chill ran down your spine, goosebumps rising across your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. On the gate was a piece of paper, a chaotic and unhinged drawing of The Operator scribbled across the page.

Narrowing your eyes, you grabbed the page angrily. “Stupid drawing,” You muttered. You crumbled up the page, tossing it aside. You shoved the gate open, the fog concealing a clear view of the gravestones. An owl hooted in the distance, the dim moonlight not able to illuminate anything past the relentless fog. You ignored the overgrown moist grass tickling your exposed ankles, continuing forward. Unsettled you hugged your arms, ignoring the eerie feeling of being watched. You did a quick scan of your surroundings, unable to see anything.

Swallowing your fear and unsettlement you walked forward, with each step creating a louder sound of static. You reached the headstones, noticing five of them sat in a perfect row. You managed to see past the fog, your heart beginning to pound as you read the names.

Timothy Wright. Brian Thomas. Nova Parker. Tobias Rogers. Y/n Y/l/n.

You felt your stomach churn, your body boiling with rage. “You can’t have them! I won’t let you!” You yelled into the void. You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palms. “You hear me you bald fuck!? You can’t have them! They mine,” You screamed. Your voice echoed throughout the trees, your words ringing throughout your ears. You gritted your teeth, the sound of static overpowering your words. You fell to your knees, clutching your head. Your lips were apart, a scream surely escaping your throat, yet you couldn’t hear it.

With every ounce of energy you had left you swallowed, forcing yourself to formulate words. “You’ll never find us anyways you bastard!” You screeched. An abnormally large snow white hand grabbed your shoulder, its fingers digging into your skin.

“Oh my foolish child, I already have.”

—> next chapter

[hanjisung-enjoyer]

thinking about being drunk in the back of a car with minho…

tags: drunken decisions!!!!, bsf!lee minho x afab!reader, kissing, making out, spit, fingersss, no actual smut but kind of implied, driver!changbin is fed up

author’s note: not sure if this is considered dubcon due to drunken consent but if you don’t like don’t read!! both characters are functioning and understanding of what’s going on despite drinking, NEVER hook up with someone who is past the point of awareness.

purely fiction, minors dni

you probably shouldn’t have drank as much as you did- if your blurry vision was anything to go by.

as fuzzy as everything around you felt, minho’s beauty suddenly stuck out to you clearer than it ever had before. you never really took in how perfect his features were; his perfectly sculpted nose now scrunched up cutely between two sharp, feline like eyes that currently struggled to maintain focus on changbin, the designated driver of the night, as he attempted to hold a conversation with the tipsy man.

“min,” you eventually whispered. his eyes flickered towards you, to which you finally got to admire his dark orbs under a slight state of intoxication. his eyes were more than alluring; you’d have no problem stare into them forever.

“hmm?” he questioned, his voice low and husky to match the faintness of your own. you didn’t immediately respond, being too busy admiring his features. your attention travelled down to his pink lips: they still looked wet from the drinks he was previously taking down, glistening from the reflection of the moon through the car window. “…what?” he asked again, his voice curious yet playful as his lips turned up in a smirk.

“…nothing,” you reply. “you just look nice.”

‘nice’ is not the word you wanted to use. best friends tell each other they look nice all the time. ‘you look nice’ is the phrase you use to compliment each other before a first date or when dolling yourselves up for a night out.

maybe it’s just because your sex life had been rather dry recently, but what you really wanted to tell him was how hot he was making your body feel. just being next to him and appreciating his features made your face flush with a heavy and sudden lust. minho’s fierce eyes were lidded and faded, yet you still felt intimidated under his gaze. the way he was staring into you, trying to decipher your true intentions, had your thighs shifting together- a small detail that failed to go unnoticed by minho.

“i look nice?” he repeated in a slur. his hand landed on your leg under the guise of holding his balance when the car drove over a small bump. your lower region tingled up at the light touch. “you look nice,” he replied.

“no,” you simply responded, turning your face away from his. he leaned closer, his face following yours. he cocked his head to the side to try and read your face that avoided him so persistently. your cheeks were now visibly red, feeling unbelievably warm from his close proximity.

“no? but you always look nice.” his pretty lips were molded into a pout when you finally faced him again. his body was now extremely close to yours, his leg only a hairs length away from pressing against yours.

you tried to look into his eyes again, you truly did, but his lips look much more enticing in your buzzed state. despite minho’s clouded mind, he was certainly alert to where your lidded eyes settled on his face. you merely whined in response to his compliment, the only form of reply you could manage, before he took your cheek in his palm. “you know you always look good, right?” he practically purred, forcing you to finally make eye contact.

his fingers trailed from your cheek and down to your chin, and now it was his turn to stare at your pretty lips. electricity ran through your body under his intense gaze. your lips subconsciously fell into a pout, presenting them deliciously to minho’s view.

it felt like forever before he finally leaned in with a hum, kissing your lips slowly and tenderly.

the way he kissed you was a contrast to his feisty personality. his lips moved against yours in a steady rhythm, taking his time as if it was the last time he’d ever lay his lips on another human. for how riled up he had you, you weren’t expecting him to pace you like this. his hand that wasn’t resting on your chin rubbed at your thigh, pulling small noises from your mouth that vibrated through the passionate kiss.

you could taste the alcohol lingering on his tongue when he finally welcomed it into your mouth. you took initiative in intensifying the kiss, an unexpected bout of courage leading you to bite down softly on his bottom lip. his eyes opened momentarily, catching yours as you mentally panicked that you may have crossed a line. you didn’t have a lot of time to overthink it, because minho eagerly returned the gesture after a moment’s time, pulling at your bottom lip between his teeth as he groped your thigh with a little more fervor. the man was practically straddling you at this point.

you had to stop yourself from moaning out, nearly forgetting about changbin in the front seat of the car. as if on cue, you heard a loud gasp of your names coming from the front of the car.

“yah! what are y- in my car???” changbin cried as he met your eyes in the rear view mirror. your face flushed and you hid yourself in minho’s neck.

“we’re just kissing, relax!” minho scoffed in response, settling back into his seat.

“i don’t care! it starts as kissing, then kissing turns to fucking in the back of my car!”

in the midst of changbin’s complaints, you watched minho’s fingers lift up to his lips in the corner of your eye. his digits slid past his bow-shaped lips momentarily, returning to your view coated in a thick layer of saliva. your wide eyes followed his slender fingers as they drew closer to your face, your mouth unwillingly gaped open. he tapped two fingers on your bottom lip, an unspoken request that you gladly obeyed.

your lips captured his spit-covered fingertips, little by little taking in the whole length of his digits. your lidded eyes maintained contact with his steady gaze. if it wasn’t for the prominent tent in his pants that twitched at each swirl of your tongue, you wouldn’t think he was phased by your actions at all. it felt messy, you felt like taking everything he would give you, and he was absolutely dominating your mind.

his fingers curled down your throat, triggering a small gag that had changbin whipping his head around and losing control of the car.

“what the f- can you guys NOT?”

to that, minho practically lunged at you, instantaneously replacing his fingers with his mouth and pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips. the kiss sounded as messy as it felt. his tongue danced around yours in a lustful exchange of saliva that drooled down your own chin.

it was over as soon as it started though, or at least it felt like it. minho pulled his whole body away from you and once again sat back in his designated seat under harsh glares from the irritated driver.

changbin sighed out, visibly aggravated at the two of you. “minho if you’re not in the front seat in ten seconds, i’m calling the cops and asking them to pull me over.”

you peeked over at minho who exchanged an amused glance with you. he leaned over to level his lips with your ear. “stay at mine tonight?” he practically purred, his fingers ghosting over your thigh and his breath tickling your neck. you nodded a little too quickly, to which minho smirked and patted your leg. he then stood up and crawled across the body of the car, taking his place next to changbin in the passengers seat and muttering a small “cockblocker” under his breath.

in a clouded state of drunk and horny, you didn’t care much about the sober consequences that the next day would bring. you missed his presence next to you, but you knew he’d make up for it once you were both finally out of this damned car.

[hyuckiefluff]

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1.2k

cw: consensual somno, unprotected sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), reader’s boobs fit in mark’s hands, usage of terms like baby, princess and slut, a bit of cockwarming so no aftercare rlly

a/n: thank you for the request @jaemnationnn <333 !! hope you like it! i rlly wanted to get this out by today so if it feels kinda rushed it’s cuz it is T.T also i’ve never written anything like this so all feedback is appreciated!! also omgg i’m at 777 followers rn :0 feels like an important milestone hehe

Mark found you sleeping when he got back from practice. He checked the clock on the nightstand and realized it was almost 3AM so he thought it best not to wake you. But as he turned to leave for the shower, he noticed that you were wearing nothing but a shirt of his. You were also missing your underwear, he noticed as he carefully peeled the blanket off you. He cursed under his breath, struggle visible on his features.

He told himself he shouldn’t act on his perverted thoughts. You were both tired and he would hate to disturb you knowing you had to get up early.

"Hmm... Mark," you softly mumbled, interrupting his thoughts. You stirred a bit more, but within seconds your head fell back on the pillow as your body relaxed again.

Or so he thought, but then your hand suddenly ventured from where it rested in your stomach down between your legs.

You were having a wet dream, Mark gulped.

“God, you're gonna be the end of me," he muttered, walking closer to your snoozing self. He was sweaty from practice, but if he didn’t do something about the painful bulge in his pants, he was scared a blood vessel might actually pop.

He hesitated to touch you at first, even though you'd given him the green light to do this before.

"Mm… Mark…please..." you let out a soft moan, shifting slightly and revealing more of your soft skin to his hungry eyes.

He groaned, undoing his sweatpants and letting them drop to his feet. His dick sprung free in a violent manner, the tip blushed a painful pink.

He couldn't help but wonder what he was doing to you in your dream. Was he just touching you, or was he already balls deep inside you? His mind went wild and his body just followed along, silently stalking over your form.

He let his nose nuzzle your neck and you sighed in response. The sleepy sounds you made every second only fueled his actions, he left a wet trail below your earlobe with his tongue and let his hand wander down, fondling your right breast, replacing your own.

"Mark..." you moaned.

He murmured "M' right here, baby..." into your neck. His fingers found the warmth of your cunt as they moved between your thighs. He let out a sated sigh as his finger entered you with ease. You shifted lightly, spreading your legs wider. Even in your drowsy state, your body reacted to him so well.

"So wet..." He grunted and rutted against you instinctively. He didn't want to wake you, but he couldn't help himself.

"I guess my dirty girl had a dream about me." He bit your jaw tenderly and murmured. "Calling my name in your sleep like some slut in heat?"

You slowly opened your eyes, furrowing your brow in an attempt to focus your vision. "Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?" He was slightly out of breath, with heavy eyes on you.

"You're home… mngh" You moaned as his finger curled inside you.

"M’ sorry, baby...I couldn't help myself.” He whimpered, rutting against nothing.

"Mm...so sleepy," you mewled, gently reaching for his untidy hair.

"It's okay, you don't have to do anything baby." he cooed. You simply nodded, closing your eyes again.

With this, he wasted no time pulling your shirt up and locking his mouth around your already perked nipple.

He was quite obsessed with your boobs— how could he not be when they fit perfectly in his hands and felt even better in his mouth. He delicately bit, sucked, and kissed every inch of your chest, gradually moving down until he hovered above your heat. His mouth latched onto your core as if drawn by a magnetic force, groaning at the feeling of being engulfed by your scent, taste, and warmth. The man seemed to have an insatiable appetite for eating you out, clear by the fact that he would do it even in your sleep.

Mark enjoyed burying his head between your legs but what he really needed there right now was his dick so he pulled you down to eye level, glanced at your slightly open mouth, and took the chance to kiss you while positioning his tip in your entrance. God, it was ridiculous how tight you were even after he had prepped you with his mouth and fingers. Your gummy walls were practically swallowing him, causing his hips to waver and forcing him to grasp onto the sheets for support.

He tried to keep a slow pace, but this vice-like grip you had around him made it hard to control himself. He knew he’d cum early if he kept going at it like this so he switched to a position behind you while lying on his side. This was more comfortable for you and also reduced the impact of his thrusts so as to not shake you as much.

Nuzzling into your hair, he breathed in the sweet scent of your coconut shampoo. Coupled with the soft moans and occasional whimpers escaping your lips, it created his own little paradise.

There was something about seeing your most vulnerable reactions to his touches that had him utterly hooked. Maybe he needed to do this more often.

"So damn good, princess," he groaned, the sound of his skin against yours softly echoing in the room. His hands firmly gripped your hips, guiding you back so he could be (impossibly) closer. Meanwhile, his other hand snaked around your chest, toying with your nipple.

"Mmm..." you were mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out.

He didn’t know if you were fully asleep or just lost in incoherent thoughts before reaching your orgasm. Regardless, he sensed his own release approaching. Gripping your leg, he lifted it slightly so his thrusts could reach deeper.

"Fuuck..." he moaned, your walls coaxing the orgasm from him. The way you spasmed around him, milking him for all he had, had him seeing stars as he shut his eyes.

So much cum was dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets but Mark was utterly spent, the exertion of doing this right after practice taking its toll so instead of getting up and cleaning you with a wet towel, as he normally would, he simply took off his shirt and carefully wiped away what had dripped down your thighs.

After that, he found himself so comfortable in his current position that, before he could think to pull out, he was already dozing off with you.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Still going through the slowest Deathly Hallows reread, and I encountered this lovely Tommarymort moment I felt like sharing. I mean, I saw some people mention how Hermione refers to their mental connection as a relationship:

“You never really tried!” she said hotly. “I don’t get it, Harry—do you like having this special connection or relationship or what—whatever—” She faltered under the look he gave her as he stood up. “Like it?” he said quietly. “Would you like it?” “I—no—I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean—” “I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he’s most dangerous. But I’m going to use it.”

(DH, 202)

Above Harry clearly denies it, but later in Deathly Hallows, there's a moment I didn't see talked about as much, where Harry, in his own mind, agrees with Hermione:

Harry was just able to make out the indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images sharp as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change. He was worried that the connection between himself and Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Hermione, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction of his wand, as if it was the blackthorn wand’s fault that he could no longer see into Voldemort’s mind as well as before

(DH, 375)

Not only did Harry lie to Hermione but he actually prizes his connection to Voldemort for its usefulness and for the sense of purpose it gives Harry. Now, I want to expand on the latter one.

I already talked about how in Deathly Hallows, Voldemort's sole purpose and obsession is Harry, but, Harry isn't much different. Like, he has a few other things going on, but a lot of his sense of purpose and sense of self hinges on Voldemort.

The reason these visions from Voldemort become so important to him is that he feels it's the only useful thing he can do since they're stuck on the Horcruxes' front. They give him a sense of purpose. The fact he connects the loss of his connection with Voldemort and the destruction of his wand is so fascinating to me.

Because Harry's wand is so important to him, he describes it as a piece of himself, like a living thing that is part of him:

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Harry took it into his hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. He could not think properly. Everything was a blur of panic and fear. Then he held out the wand to Hermione

(DH, 300)

Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count; he had lost all the bones in his right arm once; this journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical power had been torn from him.

(DH, 303)

Connecting something he thinks about like this and his connection to Voldemort is... well, it's interesting, to say the least.

I mean, of course, there is the twin core and its protection, and it's clear why he would connect his wand to Voldemort, but Harry was always fond of his wand despite its connection to Voldemort, not because of it:

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia.

(GoF, 310)

So, I find all this kinda interesting. How during the final book Harry's sense of purpose and being becomes more and more hinged on Voldemort while essentially the same thing is going on with Voldemort who forgot about the ministry entirly and is only focused on killing Harry.

[immortalmrwavell]

The Magic Swapping Stone

(Original Story posted July 27th 2021) This story has been Updated!

At 1 o’clock dead on, Dennis heard a loud knock at his studio door. He practically leap out of his desk chair and dashed over to the door. He already knew exactly who was behind the door and he couldn’t have been more pumped. As he swung the door open, there stood Steven, the massive hunk of a man he’d hired for a photo shoot.

Steven was quite a large and stocky man who’d been modelling for about just over a year now. He wore glasses and was proudly bald but to make up for it he had a thick rugged beard which along with his strong manly features made him the picture of masculinity. and that wasn’t even taking into account Steven massive build. Standing at a staggering 6’2 and weighing just over 300 pounds in what was mostly muscle. From the pictures Dennis had seen of him, he also knew the man was rather hairy underneath the tight black t-shirt that was struggling to contain Steven’s pecs.

Dennis was quick to let the model in before briefing him on what exactly they were going to be shooting. Steven already knew he’d be shooting for a men’s magazine as Dennis went in to explain they’d take a few shots in the studio first before going out to do some shots outside as well which Steven seemed happy enough with.

And so they got straight to it. They got on with taking some shots inside the comfort of the studio with Steven doing plenty of different poses that showed off his incredible form. Eventually taking off his tight shirt at the request of Dennis. As soon as he did though Dennis had to try and not stare too much at the man’s large hairy pecs as tempting as they were. Doing his best to remain professional as he took some rather flattering shots of the gorgeous male specimen before him.

After taking some more photos, Dennis decided it was time to move to some of the outdoor locations he’d picked out. Just before they left however, Dennis was sure to send a quick message to his buddy John reading “Now heading your way.” To which John responded with a thumbs up.

It wasn’t long before the two arrived at a train station only a 5 minute walk from the studio. It seemed to be all but deserted save for one man, seemingly in his forties, sitting on a bench in a green t-shirt and black shorts who glanced at them as they stepped onto the station. He seemed normal enough so Steven did pay him much mind.

Dennis informed the stocky model that this was where he wanted to take their next set of photos. Steven glanced around, looking a little confused as to why they’d wanna do a shoot on an old looking train station. Yet he didn’t question it. Dennis was the photographer afterall. He must’ve known what he was doing.

They began taking a few more photos, Dennis moving around Steven as the hulking man took up a few poses as per Dennis’ instruction. However while he was behind Steven and out of the bigger man’s field of vision, Dennis glanced over his shoulder at the man sitting on the bench. He subtly motioned towards Steven to which the man seemed to understand in a wordless exchange of nods. Little did Steven know that the man was actually Dennis’ good friend and the pair of them had a surprise that was gonna scare Steven right out of his own skin… so to speak.

Dennis quickly moved back around to the front of Steven again, taking more photos as inconspicuously as he could. Meanwhile, John stood up before slowly making his way towards the two. Taking small quiet steps as he crept up behind Steven. Dennis on the other continued to take photos, asking Steven to pull his shorts up a little to show off his meaty thighs some more. All the while pretending not to see John stood behind Steven, checking him out like a tasty piece of meat.

It was at this moment that the forty-something year old reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple glowing orb of sorts. John held it in his hand for a moment, looking at it before looking at Steven, then at Dennis. Dennis nodded.

Steven looked confused for a moment before suddenly, John came up behind him and pressed the glowing orb against his muscular back. Dennis watched as the two men were engulfed in a purple light until eventually…it faded.

“John! Did it work?!” Dennis shouted with nervous excitement.

Steven’s body looked down at himself in bewilderment before looking up at Dennis and grinning. “Oh you better fucking believe it.” He finally answered with a twisted look of joy spreading across his newly stolen face. Already loving the much deeper and gruffer tone to his voice as he spoke.

Those body swapping stones they’d gotten from that creepy magic shop owner had actually worked. John, a chubby forty something year old man had swapped bodies with a massive buff hairy model in his late twenties! It was a miracle!!

John started to feel up his new body almost immediately. Rubbing his hands though the abundance of hair that now coated his stomach before bringing them up to feel through his newfound forest of chest hair. All the while relishing in the feeling of solid muscle where fat used to be. Having a pair of big hairy pecs was everything he’d ever dreamed it would be. And the fun wouldn’t seem to stop there as John’s eyes wandered across his new arms. Scanning over his thick new biceps while taking note of just how large his new hands were. Before he could get any further however, he was interrupted by his former body.

“HEY!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?! GIVE BACK MY BODY!” the real Steven screamed in a blind panic.

John turned to face the man properly and smirked. “No can do old man, the orb I used to switch us is only good for one use. This is MY body now.” He stated as he brought his arms up into a double bicep pose and flexed them hard. “And I’m loving it already.” John said as Steven looked on mortified at the sight of a stranger piloting his former hairy Goliath of a body. Even starting to learn how to bounce his pecs thanks to the muscle memory. “Fuck yeah! I’ve always wanted to do that.”

During all this neither of them had failed to notice the quickly growing erection in John's white shorts. “I can already feel how huge of a monster this cock is! Way better than my old pathetic one that’s for sure.” John said while rubbing his fattening bulge through the shorts. “I haven’t been this hard in years!”

“HEY!! Stop touching my fucking cock!!” Steven managed to say through all the panic and confusion.

John smirked as he plunged a hand into his shorts and grasped his new pulsing cock. “It’s not your cock anymore. It’s mine! And can’t wait to start jerking it off and shoving it inside some hot dudes!” John taunted as he tugged at his now 8.5 inch cock. “But first we’ve gotta take care of you.” He said taking hand out of his shorts before beginning to stomp over to his former body.

Scared, Steven tried to turn and run but the fat middle aged body he now had was no match for his old body. John quickly caught him before restraining Steven. “Quickly Dennis! Now!” John shouted.

Dennis, who had been watching the exchange between the two men in wonder, dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a syringe. Steven’s eyes widened with fear as he tried to break free to no avail against his own beefy arms.

Dennis made his way over to the two of them, flicking the tip of the needle on the way. Getting up close and personal, he inspected Steven’s now flabby arm in an attempt to enter the needle safely. But despite his best attempts teven was wriggling far too much for him to get a safe shot. “John, can you get him to stay still?!”

“Well… I think I’ve got one idea that could work.” As John said this, an almost malicious grin began to form on his face. He carefully maneuvered Stevens head while raising up one of his arms until he was finally able to shove Steven’s face into his damp hairy armpit. Suddenly Steven was overwhelmed with the musky smell that used to belong to him. He didn’t know how to react as the sweaty scent permeated his nostrils. Part of him wanted to pull away but he didn’t have the strength as his nose was forced to dig deeper into his former armpit. This left Steven dazed just long enough that Dennis was able to stick him with the needle at last.

“There you go. Just fall asleep in your own musk.” John sniggered while continuing to hold Steven nice and deep in his pit. And slowly but surely Steven lost consciousness, leaving John to catch him before he collapsed.

“He should be out cold for at least an hour or so. Go sit him down on the bench you were sitting on earlier.” Dennis suggested.

And so John did just that, using his incredible new strength to lift his old body and carry it over to the bench. Sitting it down next to a brown bag Steven had brought with him. Inside the bag was some money, car keys, his home address and more so that Steven would at least have somewhere to go when he wakes. The train platform was normally abandoned so they figured he should be fine on his own for now. He wasn’t their problem anymore regardless.

“Alright let’s head back to your studio to pick up my stuff and then go to your place until my new memories kick in.” John couldn’t stop touching himself. Flexing each and every hairy muscle that he could. Groping his biceps. Kneading his pecs. Smacking his thighs. Everything about his new body just felt so euphoric. Not to mention the rush he was still feeling from stealing it.

“Fine but as soon as you’ve got those memories, you’ve gotta help me get MY new body as well remember?” Dennis reminded his now hairy hulk of a friend.

John hummed in agreement as continued flexing. Adoring the sensation of his muscles rippling with pure power when he did. All the while his cocky as still hard as a rock and begging to be let out of its fabric prison. “Fuuuuck. Mind if I take care of this when we get to your place? This giant dick is driving me nuts. As soon as I bust a load I’ll be golden.” He claimed while not being able to help letting his hands wander south to caress his bulge.

Dennis couldn’t stop a small smirk from crossing his face. “Well in that case I suppose I’d better help you drain those bull nuts before you go crazy.” He cooed while taking John’s hand and dragging him in the direction of the studio. Already picturing the idea of having that fat stolen cock stuffed down his throat…

[seventeencryinghorses-blog]

Dude I keep trying to do my book report but the book is so boring bro. I feel bad saying that since it's based on a true story but I'm trying my best. I might be cooked though it's due today. Have this that I wrote instead.

Charm You to Jealousy

Shanks x top male reader. Smut. Reader gets jealous because Shanks is handsome. Spoilers for Ep 1112. This isn't dubcon Shanks just likes being whiny. 3,180~ words.

“Haha..” Shanks laughs awkwardly as he catches the woman that lunged onto him. Everyone around him fawns over him, worrying over if he’s going to be okay or that he doesn’t need to be the one to defeat Kid. He’s flattered, he really is, but he needs to get going! He doesn’t mean to underestimate Kid, but he doesn’t overestimate him either. He holds the woman to his body for a moment before pulling back and walking to the dock. He turns back to look at them “Don’t worry, our enemies are famously weak.” The redhead says cheekily. It’s only when his expression lands on you that it falters ever so slightly. There’s a smile on your face as you look at how beloved he is, the way women he’s most likely been with before you swoon over him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s when he’s about to say bye to you, to try and show he hasn’t forgotten about you, when his eyes widen and his observation haki gives him a vision of an unfortunate future. Panic fills his mind and he takes one quick glance at you then quickly jumps off to save everyone. You watch him go, it’s to be expected. How admirable he is, you love him for that; plus, your comfort in the moment is much less than the lives of countless. You look down at the women that were with him, resting your chin on your hand. They’re pretty, the type of women Shanks was into before you two started to date. You don’t have their large breasts or their soft features, nor the body meant to connect with someone the opposite gender. You aren’t one to feel too insecure about that, of course. It’s been proven enough that Shanks is more than into you. You look out into the ocean, watching as your love saves the day once again. An ugly emotion blooms in your heart, unwelcome and dark.

…………..

After everything is done, he finally gets a moment to rest his mind. Looking at the sinking ship of the Kid pirates, he sighs. “Kids these days get too strong too fast.” He says as he walks further onto the Red Force. Shanks expected Kid to have gotten stronger, but enough to destroy multiple ships at once was unexpected. It’s then that your expression comes to mind, the smile that didn’t reach your eyes. He looks around a few times after he remembers but doesn’t see you “Shit.” He mumbles to himself. His crew overhears this and start to snicker despite Shanks’s small panic.

“In trouble, Captain?” Yasopp asks teasingly and Shanks sighs as they sail back to the island’s dock.

“Hopefully not too much..” The redhead says, but before he can go look for you inside the ship, people call for him. ‘Dammit.’ What’s worse, he feels your gaze on him. It’s harsh, and he resists the urge to shiver. He needs to go find you, but he should calm his subordinates first. He hops off of the ship and, again, a woman hugs his waist. She clings to him happily and he puts his hand on her hip, trailing it up to pat her back. “See? I told you everything would be fine.” He tells everyone.

“You took care of him so easily! We have to have a celebration!” One of the men say and Shanks, for the first time in a long while, actually feels not that excited for a celebration. He’s always excited to drink, of course, but the longer he keeps you waiting the worse things are going to be.

“A celebration for beating such a weak pirate?” He asks, raising a brow. “You sure you aren’t just using me as an excuse to party?”

“Nonsense! Our chief saving our island and people is always a cause for celebration!” The man responds and everyone cheers.

‘This isn’t working out.’ Shanks thinks to himself. “That sounds great but I should get going.”

“Ehhh? Already?” They all yell. “We wanted to thank you for saving us though!”

“Yeah, sorry. No need to thank me either, it’s my fault a big shot came to this island.” The captain continues to try and escape from the people, picking up a few women to place them further back. Beckman watches this, amused. He almost considers letting the redhead deal with this himself, but alas, he is the first mate and he is supposed to help the captain.

“C'mon everyone, let the Captain rest.” Beckman tells them, patting one of them on the back while he motions for the other townspeople to leave as well.

“Yeah, don’t tire him out now, he’s gonna need his energy!” Lucky Roux says knowingly with a laugh, making Shanks cringe.

“Well, okay. See you later Chief!” The women and men say, a few giving him a kiss on the cheek. Once they’re gone Shanks sighs in relief, then slowly trails his vision over to you, sweating as he notices an even more insincere smile on your face. You narrow your eyes sinisterly and head inside the ship. He curses and quickly makes his way inside too.

“We’ll save you a seat, Captain!” Lucky yells to him.

“Yeah, and we’ll make sure it’s cushioned too!” Yasopp adds and they all start to laugh, voices fading as Shanks follows you. He trails through the halls and eventually finds you, grabbing your shoulder to turn you towards him.

“Heyyyy!” He says with a friendly voice, “You know they don’t mean anything to me, right, love? Well not ‘anything’ but not like you-” He’s interrupted as you grab his collar and pull him into a rough kiss. He takes a step back, and you pin him to the wall. He shivers slightly as your tongue slips into his mouth and his into yours, intertwining the two muscles. Shanks grips onto your arm and groans softly when you lick the roof of his mouth. With that, you pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment. His face flushed as he catches his breath, voice full of anxious hope. “...Is this a sign you’re not that mad at me…?” The redhead asks, panicking as one of your hands slips under his shirt and grips tightly onto his waist. Your eyes narrow and your smile widens.

“What do you think?”

_______________________

“Hah~ nnGH~!” Shanks groans into the pillow, clutching the sheets beside his head like a lifeline as you slam into his lifted hips mercilessly. He’s already cum twice, you once, sweat glistening on his back as the muscles tense under your hand with every thrust. Your other hand goes to his hair and pulls his head up, his mind swimming as you lean over him.

“Don’t hide now, thought you loved the attention?” Your voice rumbles into his ear and his dick twitches, his eyes rolling back for a second when an especially hard pump hits his prostate harshly.

“s..sorry soRRy- AHh~!” Shanks moans with a gasp as you spank him, the hand on his back moving to squeeze one of his pecs.

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. How could I blame my lover for being himself? Even if he’s an attention whore.” You pinch his swollen nipple harshly, sending pain and pleasure through his body. “I’ll give you the attention you crave, enough to feel it when you show yourself off to everyone else.” Shanks thinks about being in front of his subordinates, trying to hide the pain in his lower half and cover any marks made by you. The feeling of him squeezing around you makes you chuckle. “You liked that, didn’t you? The thought of them finding out their strong chief got fucked like a slut then tried going to their celebration like it didn’t happen. Wonder what those girls would think, knowing that. They probably think or even remember you as some dominant man. Fantasizing about you when the truth is you’re addicted to getting used by your boyfriend.” You grab and lift his torso up, wrapping your arms around his waist so you can pound into him so hard he forgets how to think; only able to let out a weak groan as he cums for the 3rd time. All that comes out of his mouth are moans and whines now, unable to form words as tears form in his eyes from overstimulation. That doesn’t matter though, you know he can keep going. “Is my pretty slut tired? You can give me one more, right?” You ask and he shakes his head, gasping when you press a hand on his lower stomach. “You can, don’t underestimate yourself.” Shanks whines as you suck a hickey into his back, whispering dirty praises into his ear until he’s aroused enough to get hard again. “There you go~” He feels like he’s about to collapse as you kiss the back of his neck. “C’mon, be good for me, Captain.” You stop to grind into him, making him groan at the feeling of your dick massaging his prostate. Your cum is pushed further into him and his dick twitches in pleasure.

“(Y/n)..” His voice rumbles as his eyes close, mind clearing up just enough to say your name.

“Turn your head.” You tell him and press your lips against his, his eyes going half lidded with a mewl as you start to thrust again. He’s kissing back despite his foggy head, instinct from making out with you. It’s not done yet though, and once you feel like he’s had enough time to calm you start getting rough again. He’s struggling to keep himself up, your arm wrapping around his waist the only thing keeping his hips lifted.

‘I’m.. gonna pass out.’ Shanks manages to think. ‘Feels too good…!’ He curses that he didn’t take care of Kid sooner, instead choosing to calm the nerves of the people first. Out of character for the captain, but he can’t think rationally when he’s getting fucked to an inch of his life and his love is upset with him. His orgasm starts to form inside of him and he pulls away from the kiss to pant. He’s gonna die, he’s gonna die and it’s because he’s too handsome and charming to be unpopular. Your voice reaches his ears, but his brain can’t make it out very well, just knowing that it’s you behind him. At least you’re the one that’ll kill him, this might not be so bad. He lets out a gasp when you twitch inside him then grab his dick. "W-Wait wait!” He’s able to cum untouched, but he’ll need a bit of help this time. He grabs your wrist, weakly tugging to no avail as you start to jerk him off. Shanks looks back at you with teary eyes, pleading.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just this last time. After that you can go to that party and pretend you’re a perfect handsome man. For now,” It doesn't work. You tighten your grip and he sobs. “I just need you to cum again for me.” He looks forward, tears streaming from his eyes as he feels himself reaching that peak again. Finally, he lets out a loud broken cry as he shakes and spasms around you. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” You coo into his ear as it rips through him like lightning, pain and pleasure filling his body. You can’t hold back longer either, the urge to cum into him again filling your mind. Your grunts mix with his weak whimpers, so slutty and vocal for you. “I-I want you to remember this, everytime someone puts their hands or eyes on you with want, I want you to remember how easily you moan for my c-cock.” You grunt out, ending your sentence with your dick shooting cum into his warm walls. You don’t know if he heard you say that, but you know his body will remember for him. After a while of catching your breath you pull out of him, a lewd sticky noise accompanying before seeing your cum flow out of him. “Fuck, what a sight..." You mumble, burning the image into your head. Sweat glistens on his back and his head spins before he goes limp. “Ah.” You lay him down and turn him over onto his back, your breath catching in your throat. His hair sticks to his forehead, tears staining his face and his lips swollen with kissing and biting. There’s hand marks on his waist and hips, bite marks around his swollen nipples. He’s completely wrecked, his closed eyes opening just to look at you for a few seconds before he manages to give a weak smile; then he passes out. “Oops.” You exclaim, then look at the clock in the room. At this rate he’s gonna be late, but looking back at him you doubt he can go in this state; even if the thought is slightly nice to think about. Just a bit. Plus, your body is also a bit exhausted, to be honest. Love conquers all, though, and you get off of the bed and onto your feet; picking up your unconscious boyfriend to clean him up as best you can. It’s a bit difficult when he’s unconscious, but you make sure to use warm water and lots of care. He stays asleep the entire time, which isn't too surprising since he can sleep through most things; though he does make cute hums in his sleep when you rinse off his hair and snores when you’re drying him off. Once he’s all cleaned up you change the sheets quickly and place him onto the bed. It’s a good thing you’re strong, Shanks isn’t light by any means. You stand there, staring at him. ‘Is he.. gonna be able to go like this?’ You ask yourself, seeing his burnt out body. ‘I’ll go see Hongo just in case.’ As soon as you step into Hongo’s office he tosses icepacks and ointments to you.

“Here.” He’s too used to you and Shanks’s antics to be unprepared or surprised, especially when he could hear his captain’s moans while walking through the hallway to get to his office. “Seriously, I don’t know if I should be impressed with him or you that you guys manage to make that much noise. We even put soundproofed it too.” Hongo says with a sigh.

“I’m just that good.” You gloat jokingly, holding the items in your arms.

“Yeah, well, we don’t need to know to this extent.” The doctor replies and you laugh a little. “I don’t know how rough you were with him, but people are gonna be disappointed if the captain doesn’t go.” Your eyebrows furrow s the consequences of your actions settle in. “Don’t make that expression. He’s grown, he knew what he was doing.” You tilt your head in confusion but Hongo just waves you off to figure it out yourself. It’s when you get back to your shared room when you put the pieces together, could it have been on purpose? No way, right? Shanks is on the bed, snoring loudly. You walk over and put an icepack on his neck, causing him to jolt awake.

“Cold!” He yelps, coughing afterwards from the strain of his voice. You hand him a glass of water, he takes it and gulps it down. “Thanks, sweetiepie.” You stare at him and he’s confused. “What, do I have something on my face? Other than handsomeness, of course.” His voice is raspy, but you still catch the slight nervousness.

“Did you make me jealous on purpose?” You ask him and he quickly avoids eye contact. “So you did.” He scratches the back of his head.

“I didn’t think you would get that jealous.” The redhead mumbles and you resist the urge to shake him.

“I knew it was weird, you were leaning into those kisses and you didn’t need to put your hand near her ass either.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as Shanks laughs anxiously. He pats his lap.

“C’mon~ It’s not that big a deal. Plus, my hand was an appropriate distance away from her ass. I would kn-” You grab and squeeze his nose harshly. “Owowow sorry sorry, I couldn’t resist the joke!” If he wasn’t already a wreck you would’ve bonked his head by now.

“You’re going to the banquet.” You state, letting go of his nose.

“I want to, but I’m a little.. well..” He motions to his naked body covered in marks. “I’m getting old too, my hips hurt like hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if you aged them.”

“I said earlier that you would go, yeah? So you’re going. I’ll carry you over there like a pretty princess if I have to.” You tell him and he gets a serious look on his face as he actually considers the pros and cons of being carried like a pretty princess. The pros are he doesn’t have to walk over there and he can just use you instead of having to get up, the cons are that his crew would make fun of him and he isn’t sure how the rest would react. “You seemed pretty interested in people finding out earlier.” His cheeks tint slightly at that, he would allow it if it was just his immediate crew but there’s too many reasons to not do the same in front of everyone else.

“I’ll go, you can carry me some other time.” He stands up and almost falls over until you catch him. “Shit, you did a bigger number than me than I thought.” Shanks doesn’t want to leave everyone hanging though. Thankfully, you two are used to this. You put him down on the bed and put ointment on any bigger marks or bites, he shivers a little when you put it on his nipples. Once that’s done you dress him up and ice his eyes and lips. “Can’t see.” He says as the icepack covers his vision, voice muffled by the one on his lips.

“Hold it.” You tell him and he takes over icepack duty, you take the chance to put makeup over any visible marks. Would be easier to just button up his shirt but that would cause way more attention than a few faint marks. Once everything’s done he puts the icepacks down. To be honest, his face still looks like a mess.

“Maybe we can put some lipstick on me, only if you kiss it on tho-” You put the icepack back on his lips. Should be fine, Shanks looks a little rough all the time anyway. Maybe you guys can say it was the heat that did it.

………………

“Woohoo! Congratulations!” Yeah the excuse didn’t work. At least everyone was happy for you, even the women from before. They seemed really bummed at first but they changed their mind when they saw Shanks’s face and the faint marks. They started going to you instead or staring at Shanks in awe. Apparently it’s way more interesting to stare at a handsome man slightly wrecked than try and have him when he’s taken. Love conquers all, even if their curious stares are a little embarrassing.

Yeah I'm cooked lol its due in like 6 hours.

[chaoticloving]

the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. ���I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

~

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

~

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

~

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

~

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

[cottonlemonade]

Scattered Belongings

word count: 769 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: University!AU Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angsty fluff, implied pining

warnings: mentions of bullying

synopsis: Oikawa’s fanclub dumped your bag in a brook and he comes to help

Your feet went numb. The water running around your ankles was freezing cold and you wanted nothing more than to slip back into the dry socks you had stuffed into the boots waiting on the narrow bank next to the few soaked items you already retrieved.

You already couldn’t feel your fingers anymore and switched hands so that the left would hold the phone’s light while the right dug around between the rocks and boulders on the lookout for the rest of your belongings. Your vision blurred and you wiped your tears away on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

A rather sweet melodious voice sounded from up the slope but you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Mind your own business.”, you called without getting up.

You didn’t hear steps behind you indicating he had moved on, so you straightened and turned.

Oikawa stood there, hands in his pockets, very obviously not about to leave. The small lamps running along the walkway did little to light up his features.

“What happened?”, he asked calmly, almost disinterested.

You bent down to continue your search.

“My bag fell.”

You knew it was a poor excuse, considering your bag had to have fallen on the ground, rolled down a slope that was very grassy with plenty of shrubbery to catch it and then hopped over the rocky little bank into the water.

“Huh.”, he made as if to say “how positively odd”.

You finally found your pencil case and lopped it over to the rest of the wet, excruciatingly slow growing heap.

A tear dropped from the tip of your nose into the steady little brook and you gave an involuntary sniff.

One moment later you heard him making his way down the slope, placing his bag on a boulder next to your shoes and sitting down to untie his laces.

“What are you doing?”, you asked.

He didn’t give an answer, just rolled up his sleeves and the bottom of his pants and waded into the water, phone flashlight aloft.

You didn’t speak as you scoured between the stones and pebbles, you only muttered a Thank You when he caught you as you slipped on one of the slimier rocks.

You felt unsteady afterwards, not finding any good footing that allowed a safe stance.

Observing your struggle for a couple of moments he waded over to you and offered his arm. Under protest you eventually let him lead you to the boulder next to your bags where you sat down as he went back into the water.

You rifled through your things, wringing out your bag and trying to put what you already found back where it belonged, still not saying anything.

“What is still missing?”, he asked a little while later, “It might make it easier for me to know what I’m looking for.”

You checked your bag.

“I think it’s just … the case for my reading glasses. It’s brown.”

He nodded and continued.

You saw how red his hands and feet were from the cold and felt horrible for letting him go on.

“You know what? It’s not important.”, you lied. You usually put your grandma’s necklace in there before heading to the gym like tonight.

He straightened, looking at you.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, putting on a smile. Maybe, once he was gone you would just continue your search, you thought.

He tracked back to the bank, using his scarf to rub his feet dry and gave his toes an experimental wiggle.

“You should report them to the dean.”, he said to his socks as he pulled them on.

“Hm?”

“You can’t let them get away with it. I’ll… I’ll come with you, if you want. As a witness. Kind of.”

For the first time that night you actually looked at him, the little light that broke through the shrubs glinting softly in his eyes. To be fair it wasn‘t really his fault. He couldn‘t help that his fan club started leaving threatening notes in your books when you became his project partner. Or that they tried to trip you when walking down the stairs. Or that they whispered very unkind things loud enough for you to overhear about your chubby figure.

You nodded, so did he and continued to put on his shoes.

He helped you up the slope and offered to walk you to the bus stop but you declined - then parted ways with him.

The next day you found the glasses case on your desk with a note saying he would wait for you at the dean’s office.

a/n: I swear the next Oikawa post will be fluffy 🫠

[reveluving]

OMG!Graves and shy wife are the definition of Gomez and Morticia Addams!!!PLEASE AND THANK YOU ❤❤❤

THIS THIS THIS!!! Swooning because one; Gomez & Moticia and two; Graves and his eternal love for you 💗 >>>

Includes: mentions of s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Even though I, myself mentioned the Gomez-style arm kisses bit, I actually see it now.

You; a soft-spoken respectful, possibly even an iconic sweetheart who looks at no one but her husband with sparkles in her eyes?

Graves; a proud, brazen and successful rich man who adores his wife like no other? 

Maybe even Kai as Thing? 

I see the vision.

Always making a habit out of kissing your hands, one or both, just the back of it or up your arms like his life depends on it. Or twirling you around before trapping you against his chest or any surface with a cocky smile, feeling your body up shameless as he not whispers, but downright speaks the naughty things he wishes to do with you like he’s reading off a poem book.

Feeling your body heat up against his the more he speaks.

Always having a gift ready for you, whether in a box or a simple bow. Doesn’t matter if there’s an occasion, nor does he only spoil you when he leaves or returns from his work. Deliveries aren’t uncommon, though he prefers actually giving you the surprise himself. To see the corners of your lips twitch as your eyes twinkle at his thoughtfulness. He’s gifted you plenty of things, spoiled you on numerous occasions, but he’ll never grow tired of your reactions. 

He supports your work or interests like no other, because who doesn’t love seeing their beloved happily living their life? 

If you think he doesn’t talk (read: brag) about you to his friends or better, the people he knows who are jealous of him to have you as his dearest wife, then you couldn’t be any more wrong!

One can only imagine how many times he’s woken up before you, complimenting your features, your loyalty, your nature, and just you being his in general. 

Like bro.

He’s undoubtedly blinded by your beauty, indeed!

And your touches.

Ah, your touches.

Your gentle touches contrast with his—not exactly rough (unless you ask for it), but more so experienced, confident, unafraid. A constant reminder of his unabashed character, the lack of suppression or patience he has when it comes to showering you with his love. Something he didn’t know he had in him, nor did he ever have the chance to give it. 

Your touches either make him melt like a hot knife through butter or really, just get a rise out of him, even from anything as little as your fingers caressing his stubble, trailing your nails along his chest in the morning or even a little boop on the nose. 

Now, you don’t need to hear it from me that Mr Graves is also… experimental. 

Positions that’ll have you scream out his name like a prayer, or sex toys to elevate your already extreme level of pleasure. He’s always ready to offer it all, to be at your service, whether to have you squirm and writhe under him on the finest sheets, or tell you how much an angel you are, how the world has gifted him the greatest treasure of all. 

And God knows how different his life may be, how he may be without you by his side.

In the words of Mr Addams himself; “To live without you, only that would be torture.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚