#and have left things that i carry in my hand everywhere
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tnash-tammy · 1 day ago
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synopsis: you woke up wanting to stay where you lay wondering how long you could stay and still have time to get ready before youre running late for work
sevika, vi, ellie williams, abby anderson
wc: 6.9 i got rlly carried away ngl i was gonna keep going too
a/n: inspired by thr fact im sick as ever right now and hopelessly a woman lover. not a lot of dialog because 1. i was already yapping and 2. im not the best at it yet (i wrote this for like 3-4 hours its 5am omfg???)
NOT PROOFREAD
       your skin has a not nearly subtle chill that you cant get rid of no matter how much you nuzzle into the shoulder of your girlfriend who was laying relaxed with an arm around you finding its place on your side she slowly woke thought due to not feeling you gettin up at your usual time pawing at your side she mutters through her half asleep state "you gonna get up? youll be late for work" when you dont respond she shifts towards the night stand on her side of the bed reaching to turn the lamb on you grumble half annoyed at the loss of her warmth she flicked the light on and takes in your slightly dewy skin ass you squint through crusty morning eyes adjusting to the light and shuddering just enough of her to take notice you breathe in a crunchy breathe as you release an even crunchier cough turning your head down as to not cough on her.
        your girlfriend cups your chin tilting your head upward and plants the back of her hand on your forehead feeling your blazing skin "your staying home" she declares reaching around your sick form to grab your phone to text your boss for you. you grumble something incoherent, something your both sure arent even words as she sends the text and sets your phone back face down returning her full attention to you. she hates seeing you in such a pained way with a scrunched up face as u sniffle away your dripping nose.
        she wants to do anything she can to help you so she offers with a tone softer than fresh cotton "i can go to the store real quick and get some medicine" you cling to her wordlessly conveying your need for her presence she holds you back gently rubbing circles oh your arm before you wince softly finally speaking "my body hurts in all the worst ways" you say face pouty following up with "i feel like im being poked with needles everywhere AND im cold" your girlfriend huffs out a small laugh at your cute complaining before moving you over so she could get up to retrieve something tugging the covers over you kissing your temple and speaking softly says shell be back.
      what felt like hours later u hear her nearing the door of your room again with a heated blanket in hand walking closer before kneeling near your side of the bed plugging the blanket into an extension cord occupied with your phone charger and multiple other things untouched she unplugged slmething as you turn to see what shes doing when she lays the blanket onto you. you cling onto it as you feel it steadily heating up over the other blanket and confedor you already had over you peeking through the puddle of blankets you watch as your girlfriend throws on some gray sweatpants and worn navy sweatshirt she catches your eyes watching her half hooded through the shared mirror on your wall smirking at your drowsy expression she walks over squatting down to your glossy eye level saying "ill be back as soon as possible ill bring you back a snack and medicine ok?" she half smiled tucking a strand of your hair back behind your ear you nodd sleepily croaking out an ok, hurry back she leans forward pecking your face with a loving kiss on the cheek. at the back of her mind was the forgotten fact that she'll get sick as well being this close to you but she couldnt leave her poor girl hanging so she left the thought where it was disregarded.
       soon after you heard the front door clicking shut followed by the sound of a key locking it from the other side, you lie on your side trying to sleep but your body remains restless as you continually try to find a position thatll lull you to sleep.
restively and reluctantly you fling the heaps of blankets away from you immediately getting hit with cool air you shudder teeth chattering as you recoiled nevertheless you sit up sluggishly slipping you house shoes on as you drag your feet to the bathroom connected to the bedroom you flick on the light scooting your way to the toilet to release the pee you didnt even know you were holding. the porcelain seat prickling your newly sensitive skin as you quickly whip and flush moving towards the sink turning the steel handle which felt colder than the toilet seat, turning on the hot water you wash your hands absentmindedly gazing at yourself in the mirror with sleepy eyes and a puffy face. you cup water in your hands splashing it on your face trying to regain your bearings wiping your eyes you turn the faucet and light off and heading to the kitchen for a bottle of lukewarm water you had long forgotten til that very moment.
      taking a sip as you shuffle back to the room you set the water down on the nightstand before kicking your slippers elsewhere and crawling into bed finding solace in the middle of the queen bed. finally, bundling up in the blankets that lie astray waiting for your return. you fell asleep finally before you could even process the fact. waking up an hour or so later you smell what could only be homemade soup you sit up on your elbow as you meet the eyes of your loving girlfriend holding a tray of warm food accompanied with some over the counter medicine she sets the tray next to you pushing extra blanket out of the way to sit beside you as well as uou sit up properly thanking her woth a soft but firm kiss on the lips "your too good to me" you say pulling away digging in suddenly starved. you love whenever your girlfriend cooked for you like this something so small was cherished since she usually stayed quite busy so when little moments like this come along you cant help but swoon she watchess you attentively as you both have a small conversation between bites about nothing specific when your full she passes you the medicine from your tray and your water bottle.
        you take the medicine taking an other sip of water afterwards with a small aah you lean back against the headboard as your girlfriend sets the tray aside and grabs a few bags filled with more stuff than you thought you needed as she gave you 2 bags you realize she wasnt joking about getting you a snack but 'a snack' turner into multiple, all your favorites you sheepishly say thank you and set the the bag aside as she takes out some vapor rub "lift your shirt" she instructed you. eyebrow rasing in amusement "take me on a date first" you say jokingly causing her to roll her eyes unamused, still you adhere to her request. more like demand. she spreaded the substance across your collar bonesnd down the valley of your breasts coming back up to leave some just above your collarbone. shufting your shirt back down you pat the spot next to you laying back down instructing her to do the same. she does without a second thought wrapping you up in her arms after pulling all the covers back on you. you both cuddle closely her breathes soothing to you as you lay your head on her arm snuggling impossibly closer basking in how caring and sweet your love is to you loving how she takes care of you when you need it.
      you dont know who falls asleep first but you both doze off at some unknown time tangled together regardlessly still comfortable unknowingly syncing your breathing to eachother.
i hope you like this its my fire writing on here im gonna go to sleep now i swear
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forzafinally · 25 days ago
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Okay but how does Charles not lose that blue clutch
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imaginedisish · 6 months ago
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I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.
Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.
Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?
Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away
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He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him. 
You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction. 
You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett. 
His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—
“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”
You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him. 
He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands. 
He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more. 
God, you are so fucked. 
You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed. 
You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you. 
“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room. 
The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean. 
“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag. 
The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack. 
“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to. 
You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile. 
“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip. 
“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now. 
“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself. 
You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 
“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt. 
Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.
He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. 
“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink. 
You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open. 
You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now. 
 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you. 
You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”
“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”
You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means. 
His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself. 
“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.” 
He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in. 
“It’s more than that,” you admit. 
He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence. 
“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out. 
But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”
Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.  
“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.” 
Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours. 
And then finally, it comes out.
“I want you, Lo.”
You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him. 
So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.” 
He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.” 
And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head. 
He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly. 
“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say. 
He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side. 
“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”
He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.” 
“Fuck me, please.”  
He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.” 
You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you. 
Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.
“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine. 
He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.
“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again. 
He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.
“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 
He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”
“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”
“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 
“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for. 
He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out. 
“This what you wanted?” He teases.
“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak. 
“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge. 
“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. 
“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 
You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue. 
“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm. 
He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. 
“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”
There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”
“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.
He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”
“P-please,” you stutter. 
He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest. 
Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles. 
His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire. 
“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses. 
His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster. 
He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.” 
Always. 
It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more. 
“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you. 
He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too. 
“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. 
You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.” 
The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter. 
“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”
You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up. 
“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”
His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them. 
Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then. 
He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—
“I meant it.”
You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing. 
“I meant it, too.” 
tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung
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tetsvya · 7 months ago
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clueless, kuroo tetsuro
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!
➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader
➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers
➼ word count! about 1.4k
➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡
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"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.
Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!
"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.
"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.
Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."
"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"
"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"
"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."
"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."
"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."
Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.
"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."
There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?
"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."
All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.
Right?
A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.
"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"
Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"
"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"
Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."
"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.
"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.
"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"
"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"
"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"
"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.
"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.
Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."
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pedroscurls · 3 months ago
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in every lifetime
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summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.
“I’ll be back.”
“But what if–”
“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 
“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 
“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 
“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 
There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 
Through it all, you stayed. 
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 
“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 
“And if I can’t?” 
“You’ll have to.” 
“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”
“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 
In your dreams, he was alive. 
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan. 
He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 
“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”
“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 
“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”
“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 
“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”
“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 
“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 
“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 
“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 
“From my universe,” Logan answers. 
“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 
“There was.”
“And what happened to me?” 
Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”
“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 
And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 
There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 
My Logan. 
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 
“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”
“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 
“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 
“I’m not him,” he whispers. 
“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 
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nataliedecorsair · 2 months ago
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For this Halloween, I present you my MRI monster + a little bonus story about it >:) --
It’s the tail end of October, when the days shrink down to thin slices of cold sunlight. The late autumn air is sharp and crisp. It’s carrying the scent of wet, dying leaves; it stirs a strange feeling inside you, a mix of melancholy and restless hunger for something more. An adventure, perhaps... or something darker.
And why not? You’re young, curious and like everything weird and unusual. For you anything out there is a story, and this one could be a story about the unfortunate abandoned hospital at the end of a broken road. Folks say this place is haunted, but maybe no one’s ever dared to find out for sure. You're certain it is time for you to solve this mystery for good.
You ease your way inside. The door gives a long, miserable creak as it opens, as if it hasn’t been touched in decades. The paint, once green, is almost gray now; it hangs in shreds, peeling off the wood like dead skin. The air in the hallway hits you, stale and thick, smelling of dust and something sour. You pull out your flashlight, clicking it on with a soft snap, and the narrow beam cuts through the dark, scanning over pockmarked walls and the occasional room. But, of course, you don't see anything but empty beds, rusty buckets, piles of ragged fabric left to rot. No signs of ghosts or ghouls - or anything remotely interesting, for that matter.
You explore for ten minutes, maybe more, telling yourself you’ll see something any second now. But after the seventh empty room, you start to think there's no mystery at all. Pretty expectable, isn't it? Or what, did you really think you’d find anything but dust, broken glass, and busted syringes? With a sigh, you turn to go, shaking your head.
You take a step into the hallway, flashlight slicing through the shadows, and that’s when you hear it: a low, dry crrrk-crrrk. At first, you think it’s the old building settling. But then it comes again, irregular and jittery, like static: crick-crack, crick-crick-crack. The sound’s sharper now, that unmistakable staccato of a Geiger counter ticking.
Your heart beats faster. You swing the flashlight in the direction of the noise, but there’s nothing there, just the same hollow walls and chipped paint. Crick-crack-crick. Louder now, closer... For a sick, sinking moment, you wonder if there’s something radioactive buried here, and shake your head in disbelief.
"It doesn’t make any sense," you think. "I don’t even have a Geiger counter." But your mind, stubborn as a mule, wrestles to make sense of the nonsense, to catalog that weird crackle and shove it into some drawer that fits. Maybe you’re just hearing things? The building is old, there could be some pipes. It's always the pipes that make the most uncanny noises.
But the thing making that sound... it doesn’t care whether you understand or not.
You run forward, not watching where you're stepping, and a rusty bucket clatters across the floor. You fumble as your flashlight slips from your hand, the beam ricocheting off the walls and scattering shadows like startled birds. You crouch to retrieve it, fingers scrambling over the filthy, dusty tiles. And that’s when you see it, illuminated by the flashlight laying on the floor.
Feet.
They're human, but wrong. Slightly translucent - and shot through with slowly swirling masses of black and red liquid, twisting just under the skin. You look upward, and you make out the outline of a woman in a tattered, filthy hospital gown. Her body consists of that liquid, contained within the thin walls of her grayish skin. Everywhere but her head. It looks like an MRI scan, flickering between 2D and 3D, a nightmare too strange for your eyes to comprehend. Empty white orbs stare down at you, soulless and wide. She has no lips, but her mouth peels back, revealing a row of long, black teeth: it almost looks like a smile. She leans in, and before you can scream, rushes towards you - and the world plunges into darkness.
...You wake up in your own bed, the morning light spilling through the curtains. What a horrible nightmare you just had! Head feels so heavy, it hurts with this annoying, pulsating, throbbing pain deep within your brain. You feel feverish. You got sick, perhaps? It would explain the dream, so realistic - and so ephemeral at the same time.
With a sigh, you brush your palm through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep... but your fingers snag on something. A clump of hair. You pull it free, bewildered. Since when have you started balding? Confusion morphs into unease as you glance down at the skin of your hand, red and sunburn. Sunburn in October? In this area?
"I should definitely see a doctor," you think, an anxious knot tightening in your stomach. "But not in this abandoned hospital." Nervous chuckle escaped your lips, as you tried to calm yourself down with this silly joke. "I will never go there again, whether it's a dream or not."
…At least, you thought so. -- More spooky art here and here
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ellastone-olsen · 3 months ago
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SWEET FLOWER.
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Pairing: Rio Vidal x reader x Agatha Harkness
Summary: porn without plot (I’m not sorry)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ dom/sub dynamics if you squint, petnames, orgasm control, some magic use, mommy kink, threesome, bites, aftercare
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: I haven't written anything for a VERY LONG time and after such a break this is all that came out. I love Agatha and Rio so much, my sweet buns, but sometimes my brain goes in the wrong direction.
DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
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Sitting on Agatha's lap was probably the most pleasant pastime you could imagine. The scent of the older woman's heavy perfume filled everything around you and something inside you broke.
The little teasing had finally crossed the line, or at least her patience had run out. Either way, you didn't mind. Until you felt the green witch's arms around your waist and her nose buried in your hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo.
"Should we torture her?" a voice called from behind you. You were trapped between the bodies of two witches, Agatha's chuckle lost in the skin of your neck as she kissed and bit while Rio settled her hands on your hips. "I don't recall asking you to join," Agatha snapped. Their manner of communication had become so familiar that it was immediately clear that she was not serious.
Then Rio leaned down, forcing you to lie on top of the older woman so that she could reach her lips and unexpectedly pull Agatha into a kiss. As the women moved in tandem, ignoring you, your heart skipped a beat. You would be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing view of your life. Rio forced your aching center to press against Agatha's stomach and a sigh escaped your lips. The green witch chuckled through the kiss and took you in her arms, doing it again. Your head fell on Agatha's shoulder, and hands tightly gripped the back of the sofa, which you had been holding on to all this time.
“Oh god,” you whispered, which didn’t go unnoticed. Agatha broke the kiss, turning her head towards you and lifting your face up by the chin with two fingers. “What’s up pet? You want both of us? Is that driving you crazy?” Her taunt was driving you crazy, but she was right. You started to turn your head back to look at the green witch, but Agatha pulled you back, grabbing your face. “Answer me.” You tried to gather your thoughts, but instead a hiss came out as Rio’s teeth sank into your neck. “Fuck.” Your eyes closed and another throaty laugh reached your ears. “Such a greedy girl, you think you can take two at once?”
“I…I don’t.” Was all you could say before Rio’s hand found the area between your thighs, pressing through the fabric of your underwear to your entrance. “Sweet little thing, already soaking wet for us.” Another taunt. “Maybe if I do this she’ll talk faster?” That was definitely not the case, because the next thing Rio did was the one that completely destroyed your ability to think clearly. Her fingers pushed your underwear aside and ran through your wet folds, teasing your entrance again. You were clay in their hands, to be molded into anything they wanted.
Your hips moved and sought more contact, but Agatha lifted you higher, so that your breasts were level with her mouth. “Not so fast, baby.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple until her hand reached your swollen clit to rub small circles. “FUCK. Oh my god.” Rio’s lips were on your neck again,then on your shoulders, leaving love bites that were quickly turning red. “But it’s just us, sweetheart.” Another chuckle.
Their hands and lips seemed to be everywhere and your body was vibrating with need. Sobs left your mouth and beads of tears formed in the corners of your eyes from some of the particularly harsh bites both women were giving. “Oh look Agatha, we have too sensitive flower in our hands.” You finally turned your head and met Rio’s brown eyes. Out of nowhere, the flower she always carried appeared in her hand and she placed it behind your ear. Her thumb wiped away your tears and she leaned down to pull you into a slow, gentle kiss that was such a contrast to the bites she had just received. The woman didn’t let go even when your lungs ran out of air, it felt like she had been starving for centuries before connecting your lips.
Agatha's fingers pressed against your sensitive bud again at this time and you moaned into the green witch's mouth. "You never knew how to share." You understood what she was talking about when Agatha's hand turned your head again so that this time another witch could give you a hungry kiss. Hands grabbed and crumpled her jacket. Rio's fingers stroked your stomach, chest, hips, wherever she could reach, she laid her head on your shoulder and, collected your arousal between the folds and pushed two fingers inside, making you see stars. "Such a tight little pussy, huh?" You screamed and threw your head back on Rio's shoulder, Agatha was clearly not happy with the loss of contact and painfully bite your nipple, making you hiss again. "Such impudence will take a long time to work off, pet."
Rio's fingers moved in perfect rhythm, pressing into the soft spot inside each time, while Agatha played with your swollen clit. Your hips moved to their pace, wet sounds of arousal filling the room. "Oh fuck, yes yes please..." The witches looked at each other in silent dialogue, the green witch's other hand buried itself in your hair and pulled, forcing you to arch, and Agatha's mouth found your breast again. "What are you asking for, baby girl? Maybe if you say it right, we'll give it." Rio whispered in your ear, and then licked.
Your breath caught in your throat, panting from the fast pace and the good feeling. You wanted, no, you craved them to take you to the edge and it didn't matter how much you had to beg. These two were worth everything. Rio adjusted the flower that was threatening to fall out from behind your ear.
“We are waiting, pet." Agatha's hoarse voice interrupted your thoughts. Without hesitation, you asked. "Please." A painful bite remained on your collarbone. "Not right, try again." Their movements did’t stop, and you knew that you could not hold out for long. "Please, Agatha? Please, let me." You repeated the word like a broken record. Sharp nails dug into your thigh, lowering you onto the Rio’s fingers. "Wrong, sweet girl. Come on, say it. We know what you have in mind."
A thread of green magic enveloped your head, catching the necessary thought from your consciousness. Your eyes widened. Your misty gaze studied Agatha's face, her lips stretched into a smile and her teeth bit her lower lip. "Come on, pet. Don't upset us." Again a hoarse whisper in your ear. The knot in your stomach tightened with each movement of the women's hands. "Please.. mommy?" You shook your head looking at the women in turn. "Mommy please." You addressed them both. Then Rio made a rougher push. "That's it, darling." Her hand lay on your cheek and turned your head so that you looked only at Agatha. Gray eyes burned with mockery, and the woman said "Let it go" with her lips.
Your thighs tensed and shook, the orgasm covered you in a giant wave, your walls squeezed around Rio's fingers, and Agatha continued to draw circles on your swollen clit, prolonging the pleasure. Pornographic screams came out of your mouth, and you were not ashamed.
When you calmed down, Rio pulled out and brought her hand to your face. Your arousal flowed down her palm. "Mmm, our flower did so well, look, sweetheart." Agatha ran her fingers through your disheveled hair and stroked the top of your head. "Absolutely." There was no trace left of the previous cruelty and both women left small kisses on your body, apologizing for the previous bites. You relaxed and lay completely on Agatha, burying your nose in fluffy hair. "Thank you," Rio plucked the flower from your hair and tucked it behind Agatha's ear. "Honey, don't you think this is the end?”
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yandere-romanticaa · 3 months ago
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˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜.
❝ heaven is my baby, suicide's her father, opulence is the end. ❞ - lana del rey.
various! yandere! honkai star rail men on how they claim you ~
🎀 I just wanted to make a little post which features my favorite male HSR characters lolz. Also, there's zero reason why I picked the song for the title other than the fact that it is for the ✨ aesthetic ✨!
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❥ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 !
What better way than to leave a mark on his beloved than by his mere presence alone? Jing Yuan is a simple man in his core, even if his tactical nature or even mischievous side can get carried away at times, The General is all too aware of his influence on the Lofu.
The sun could stop shining, the sky could fall and darkness could envelop the whole galaxy but not even that could erase the impact that Jing Yuan has left on you.
Wandering eyes follow you everywhere you go, quaint whispers have become a daily occurrence for you as the entirety of the Lofu knows who you lover is. Some praise and envy your position as The General is known to be handsome, kind and strong. They secretly spit at you and curse your very existence, nasty jealousy rotting them to their core as you march on like a solider to war, aimless and uncertain.
There is also of course the opposite end of the spectrum - adoring fans who just gush about your so called relationship with the dashing general. Hours are wasted scrolling away on your phone as you browse through the endless sea of lovey dovey articles, pictures taken you weren't even aware of that existed, and a plethora of other things you could even bother to remember.
All he needed to do was to just give you a nice golden collar to seal the deal. At least that would be the more obvious way of him trying to brand you as his own sweetheart.
He had his own little secret though. A velvet box was kept hidden away in his desk, ready to be opened on a special occasion.
Depending on how you got on with the general in the future, the little thing in the box was either going to make you the happiest person in the world or, he really would finally shackle you with gold.
❥ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 !
Sunday, ever the gentleman, would try to remain subtle about his feelings towards you in public. There are just some things that you do not do, nor share with the outside world.
This is a rule he always tells you to follow.
Still, all he needs to do is to speak. Honeyed words fall from his lips like candy, always so sweet, so addictive, so passionate. Even a man like Sunday, who is known for keeping his cool, cannot hide his infatuation with you. He rambles and rambles, sometimes even losing himself in his thoughts as he sings his praises for you, like the lovesick fool that he is.
Sunday likes to think that he is being cool, suave, but he is literally anything but.
Sometimes, he gets a little too carried away. Sometimes, his darker desires get the better of him, which can set you off a little. He's always so sweet and apologetic whenever he upsets you...
Please, he says through gritted teeth.
Don't mind my ramblings. They don't mean anything. Truly, they do not.
Disregard those pleas entirely as they are nothing but hollow. All one needs to do is to look into his crazed eyes, and that is where you will find out just how true everything he's saying really is.
❥ 𝐉𝐈𝐀𝐎𝐐𝐈𝐔 !
This sly fox has such a hard time keeping his hands to himself... In all honesty, can you even blame him? Whenever he sneaks up on you, Jiaoqiu cannot help but to place his hands literally anywhere on your soft body and he is not shy about showing his true feelings.
Bearing his pearly white fangs, Jiaoqiu likes to bite from time to time.
The desire to do so is further enhanced with every sweet noise you make. Now now, don't cover your mouth, be nice! Every squeal, sigh, groan, even scream are so precious to him... Don't deny him the pleasure of not being able to listen to you.
It's very cruel of you, he says with a pout.
In the cover of night, he likes to trace the markings he left on you with his tongue, maybe even adding even more marks in the process. If you bleed a little, it's all fine and dandy.
You always taste sweet to him.
And the thought of other people being able to see the red bruises which bloom into hideous purple in green bruises on your neck... My goodness, he thinks to himself.
He could just devour you whole.
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hiraethwrote · 1 month ago
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contents : f!reader, stressed and overworked satoru, pretty much pure fluff, profanity, baking, somewhat proofread, no use of y/n wc <1k an : happy birthday to the loml <3 that's it... that's the post
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This was the last thing Satoru needed right now.
It had been a long day — much like most mornings, he had to carefully wiggle out of your grip in your shared bed to head to work, only to have the higher ups ride his neck from dawn until dusk. And today, for some reason, his students had decided to be particularly difficult, arguing on whatever he said.
Maybe he was just more short tempered than normal today, as he had a perfect vision of how he wanted the day to go — lazy morning, slowly waking up next to you as you’re nothing but tangled limbs, have a share breakfast, then do absolutely nothing of importance while graced with your company. Was that too much to ask for his birthday?
Seemed like it.
And what greets him first when he enters your apartment isn’t your warm embrace — no, instead it’s the scenery of his home looking like a complete mess before a frustrated groan is heard, followed by a loud “fuck, just work god dammit”.
He wanted to relax, rot on the couch with you pressed up against him before sleep eventually trapped you in oblivion and he could carry you into the bedroom where he could fall asleep next to you.
Instead, something is wrong — he doesn’t need to see it to know. His entire body feels it when something’s off with you, and he won’t be able to rest until he knows you’re at peace with whatever is causing you trouble.
“Piece of shit machinery,” he hears you say as he turns the corner to enter the kitchen. And though the scene is a mess, it’s a whole different mess than what he expects to see. “Ten thousand yen for this not to do its fucking job,” you say through gritted teeth.
Satoru lets his eyes roam every corner of the kitchen. There’s bowls and tools everywhere, flour covering the floor, some semi successful attempts of pastries on the table — there’s even what he suspects to be cake batter travelling up the walls, wondering how the hell you managed to do that.
“What’s this?” he breaths in confusion, your frame jumping at the sudden sound of his voice.
“Satoru!” You groan as you turn to face him. “No! You’re not supposed to be home yet,” you clap your hands to dust off the access flour.
If it was even possible, you were more of a mess than your surroundings. Your apron had definitely seen better days, frosting speared across your cheek and your hair tied up in a… birds nest was probably the best description.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” it came out nearly like a cry as your hands came flying to cover your face before dragging them through your hair, leaving white flour in its trail. “I wanted to do this for you! I mean, all that you do for me, especially with your busy schedule. Then I couldn’t make up my mind on what to make, because let’s admit it, sweet is your favourite flavour. So I thought, hey let’s just make them all. You deserve it after all, but then the damn machine decided to be a little bitch. I just wanted to do something special for your birthday-“
Your rambling is cut short as Satoru captures your rambling pout in a deep and passionate kiss, a hand on each side of your face. When he eventually pulls away, you’re left speechless and face flushed warm.
“My god, I love you,” he breathes, staring into your eyes with all the devotion he has for you, and it still doesn’t feel like he is able to do his feelings justice.
“It’s just cake, ‘Toru,” you say with a shy giggle. “Or more like four different halves of cake.”
“It’s about more than the cake.” His voice is low, nearly fragile, letting his thumb stroke tenderly across your cheek, never even daring to let his eyes leave yours.
Sure, it was just cake — but to him it was also the effort. The fact that you’d wanted to do this for him, specifically. The time, the work, the dedication — all things you didn’t owe him, but something you just wanted to do for him to show how much you loved him.
“But they didn’t even come out right-“
“I don’t care,” he smiled, leaning forward to press a soft peck on your nose before resting his forehead against yours. “It probably tastes amazing anyway.”
“Yeah, I used a shit ton of sugar,” carefully pulling away to look at his face.
He smirks again, thumb wiping away the frosting on your face before licking it off. “Hmm, think I gotta eat some to be sure.”
“Well, help yourself. They’re all for you after all,” you step away to gesture towards your creations on the dining table, his eyes immediately drawn to the chocolate cake with ‘happy birthday baby’ jankily written on top.
“Thank you,” he says softly, hand trailing down your arms to loosely grab ahold of your fingers. “I really love you, you know?”
“I know,” you smile in return and give his hand a squeeze. “I love you too.”
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months ago
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Hi! I hope you are well. I would like to request a Cregan Stark x reader where they’re in the early stages of marriage and are literally having sex everywhere. Like they can be in the stables checking on the horses and start getting freaky or durning dinner causing everyone to clear out of the room or during a hunting trip where they wander off but everyone knows what they’re going to do.
Request: Cregan and his horny wife getting caught. These two will bring a lot of little pups to Winterfell
Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, semi-public sex, getting caught,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Whispers at court were traveling the scandalous tell-tales of Lord Stark and his new wife who, since their wedding, seemed to be unable to keep their hands off each other. In the stables, the woods near the glass gardens, Cregan's study, the east corridor and, obviously, their bedchambers. For the prosperity of Winterfell, this was great news. It meant a babe should come soon — an heir. 
For the people of the court, the employees, or anyone else who were around the Lord and his lady, it meant hearing and seeing a lot of things they did not wish.
It was mid-afternoon and you were in the stables, brushing your own horse. There were employees who were paid to care for the horses, as your husband often reminded you, but you loved doing it yourself. It helped bond with your horse. Yours was white with a gray spot on her front leg. 
Cregan had found you after watching the new men who will accompany him to the Wall this winter train in one of the courtyards. They were training hard, but they were not nearly ready enough for the long winter.
‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his light summer cloak over his shoulders. 
A small, light smile curved upon your lips as he approached, and you didn't look up from the brush as it continued to move over your horse's coat, running through the fine, white hairs and straightening them. ‘’You should not be surprised, I spend all my afternoons with Moonlight. She is greeted company that the ladies at court.’’ 
Cregan chuckled, aware of your dislike for the ladies at court. They weren’t terrible company, they simply bored you. Their conversations always revolved around the lords they had their eyes on and the latest gossip.
He snuck up behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck. Cregan lowered his head, his lips moving towards your ear. ‘’Lucky girl, taking my wife’s time and attention. Maybe I should be jealous,’’ he whispered, a playful tone in his voice.
You paused your brushing, laying your hands on Cregan’s forearms and closing your eyes, enjoying his touch. You chuckled softly. ‘’No need to be jealous. She is great company, but she cannot replace the touch of my husband.’’ You leaned back into him, feeling the heat of his body, your breath hitching as a shiver of desire coursed through you.
Cregan grinned against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He turned you around, pressing you against the nearest wall, his hands firmly on your hips before kissing you deeply and passionately. His tongue lapped the inside of your mouth, the growing erection beneath his breeches pressing against you. A moan left your throat and the brush fell from your grip, forgotten.
You never thought you would be this obsessed with a man — and his cock. 
As the kiss carried on, you began working on the laces of his breeches. The faster you’ll get him out, the faster he’ll be inside you. 
But before you could slip your hand inside, Cregan grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the wall, his voice low. ‘’You are in such a haste today,’’ he teased, moving his hips to leave a trail of kisses along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. 
‘’Can you blame me? You were already gone when I woke this morn,’’ you replied, sounding slightly upset. 
‘’Forgive me, my love. Duties stirred me early today.’’ Cregan traveled his free hand down your body until he was able to ruck your skirts up. You shivered slightly as the cool summer air inside the stable brushed your bare cunt. ‘’I hope I can make myself forgiven.’’ He swiped his thick finger between your folds, pulling a moan out of your throat.
As the two of you were lost in each other's touch, you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps entering the stable. And the stable boy did not hear the heavy breaths coming from inside. 
He gasped and quickly covered his eyes upon discovering his lord and lady in an intimate position. The pail he was carrying slipped from his hands and fell to the ground — its contents spilling and its metallic clang echoing loudly in the stable. 
The sound snapped Cregan his bubble and he quickly retracted his hand from under your skirts, moving to shield you from the stable boy’s view, protecting his lady’s dignity. 
‘’F-forgive me, my Lord, my Lady. I did not know you were— I’ll check on the horses later.’’
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cryptfile · 6 months ago
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𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]
SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.
WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.
SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!
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The smell is under your nose.
At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.
You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.
And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.
It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.
So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.
"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."
"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."
He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.
The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.
"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."
It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.
“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.
The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.
“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”
You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.
You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”
He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.
He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.
“What are you-”
He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.
“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."
He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.
He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.
But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.
"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."
You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.
"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.
"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."
He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.
The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.
Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.
He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.
"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”
“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."
"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"
There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.
He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.
"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."
He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.
He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.
John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.
You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.
"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”
He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.
“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.
He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.
You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.
And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.
But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”
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signedkoko · 1 year ago
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Alastor | Stolas | Vox [Comfort]
In which the two of you bump into your abusive ex who just arrived in hell.
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You and Alastor always went on walks through hell together, since you enjoyed exploring the outdoors and he enjoyed people watching
Normally things were relatively peaceful, most, if not everyone, knew the radio demon down to every detail, and avoided him at a mere glimpse
He enjoyed telling you about things that reminded him of his past, or encounters he'd had just down the street, while you listened and observed with awe
Unfortunately, your usually peaceful walk was rudely interrupted by an obnoxious shout in your direction
There was someone who looked severely out of place, likely having just fallen, stumbling towards you with a seething grin
Alastor was already annoyed the moment anyone interrupted him, but even more so at the fact that this individual was shouting obscenities at his darling
Nevertheless, he stood stoic by your side, only glancing down at the shorter individual with an animalistic twitch in his eyes
" Can't you hear me, fucking bitch! You're the slut who put me down her- "
Once your hand gripped onto Alastor's wrist, tugging him, the man's head was sliced clean off, smashing into a building across the street and leaving a visceral splatter
Alastor was already removing his wrist from your hand to wipe the blood from his cane with a handkerchief
Once the body hit the ground with a thud, he had his arm around your waist and lifted you over it, continuing his walk as if nothing had occurred
" And that impeccable diner over there! I just have to take you, it reminds me of my many evenings after the late shows! "
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Stolas had heard enough about the life you lived on earth, each momentous day and each sad tale that made up your story
He knew he was never able to protect you up there, and vows to do so now that you are by his side in the afterlife, offering an eternity of protection
Inevitably, he understood some people who had hurt you would eventually find themselves down here, and that some may try to hurt you, so he refused to let you wander alone for too long
It didn't even have to be him, so long as someone he knew could protect you was nearby
Unfortunately, the first to find you was the worst possible individual
The one who had raised their hand so many times to you, and left you with scars Stolas wished he could erase along with every worry
It was one of your date nights, visiting some upper class restaurant after having washed a romance in theatres
You were both dressed to the nines, laughing in one another's company and waiting for the cab you'd called since you'd finished sooner than expected
The both of you climbed in, only for the doors to instantly lock, tearing off without any word or signal from either of you
Stolas laughed it off for a moment, asking the driver if he already knew your destination, though he stopped when he noticed your eyes locked onto the rearview mirror
" Already moving on to someone else? Think I'm not good enough for you? "
The voice was calm but eerie, aimed directly as you
You looked horrified, and Stolas' heart raced as he connected the pieces together
One moment, the car was racing down the road, and the next, you were in the royalty's arms being carried away from a totalled car burning up in flames
You'd only blinked your eyes
Stolas held you tighter that evening, and refused to let go for weeks after
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Vox was an extremely busy person
So unfortunately your intimate time together was rare
Despite that, Vox always invited you into his studio with him while he worked, so at least you'd be near one another and he could know you were safe
I mean, you were always safe so long as he could reach you, and modern tech was everywhere in hell nowadays
But he was extra protective since he'd learnt your ex had entered hell
Had he told you? No. Did he feel guilty about it? Yes.
But he just didn't want you to have to worry, and seeing you happily working away at a new project or hobby without a care in the world was just so, so...precious
Eventually he knew he would have to crack the news, but he hadn't anticipated your ex would find you so soon
It was a late night in the studio, with Vox overlooking several large screens as countless information transferred to and from his own database, analysing every media and algorithm
You were behind him, sat in a leather armchair, reading one of the many books that lined the book shelf he kept around as decoration
People came in and out of the floor through an elevator, though as the time got later, the frequency dwindled down severely
When it dinged for the first time that hour, neither of you were too bothered, Vox continuing without a flinch and you looking up for just a moment
Your gaze never went back to your book, though, stuck on the face that had a hateful sneer aimed straight at you
The phone in your pocket dinged with an alert, something about your heart rate increasing drastically in too short a time, and the information registered into Vox in milliseconds
" Finally, I fucking found you! "
One step out of the elevator, and the door clamped shut around their second leg with a loud crack, forcing your ex down onto one knee
Vox only turned to you, ignoring the wailing figure
" Oh man I really should have told you they were here! You can yell at me after. "
The suited man then walked towards your ex as the doors slowly released, kneeling down in front of him with a cackle
" Pathetic. Freak. "
Vox kicked them back into the elevator, and you heard the thing drop at high speeds back down the skyscraper
Security would handle the mess
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Author's Note - I wanted to write for some of my favs to get us started off, and went for a prompt I see pretty often. If you like what I do, please consider sending in a request 🖤
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visionsofcarnality · 4 months ago
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Carried Away. M. Murdock.
Matt gets a little excited when his partner rides his face
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Warnings: NSFW. Face sitting, face riding, cunnilingus, swearing, cum, cum eating, Matt enjoys eating out his partner way too much. (if there’s such a thing.
This one’s for my babes @waywardxrhea @parker-murdock @zomtart @sleepysleepymom @justvalkyrie and @dorothleah you guys gas me up too much 😭
“Holy shit-“ You gasped softly when one of Matt’s arms pushed up from your stomach to grip your breast, tweaking the nipple harshly so that it went electricity down your belly directly to your clit. Matt moaned against your pussy when you gripped the headboard with one hand, rocking gently into his face so the bridge of his nose ground against you perfectly.
Matt was nowhere near complaining, making sinful noises into your skin as he gripped your ass cheek with his other hand, holding you taut to his face as he ate you furiously from below. His jaw left slight beard burn from his stubble on the inside of your thighs as he moved his mouth, but neither of you particularly cared. You especially didn’t when he sucked your clit into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, letting it go with a a soft smacking sound as he widened his mouth to trail his tongue from your pretty hole up to the soft bundle of nerves and pleasure.
“Fuck, Matt.” You whimpered, legs shaking slightly as your eyes closed, leaning back from the headboard to change the angle, moaning as the sensations overwhelmed you. His tongue was fucking everywhere. Touching every inch of you that had been laid over his face, licking and sucking with an almost desperate enthusiasm.
The only response he gave was a throat groan, which brought a gentle squeak from your throat at the delicious vibration. A squeak that turned into a soft cry when his teeth once again nipped gently at the skin above your clit.
“God, Matt, please, i’m so close.” You whined, arching your back into the pleasure as he continued his current rhythm, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from your hot, flushed body. Without thinking, you reached behind you with one hand, fingers outstretched. You’d barely touched the underside of his cock before his hips bucked and you felt his abdomen tense in the way his torso moved.
“Shit-“ Was all you heard before a loud, stuttering groan left his chest, the vibrations pulling you over the edge as hot, wet droplets spurted into your hand and forearm. You moaned at the realization, gently rubbing up and down his twitching shaft as he continued to cum into your hand, hips twitching and squirming even as he still continued to eat you. Pulling you through the waves of your orgasm like you pulled him through his.
It felt like hours before he finally tapped the back of your thigh and you rolled off of him, letting his overstimulated cock flop onto his belly. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, licking the pearly cum from your palm and wrist with a soft laugh.
“If I knew you could come from just me sitting on your face we would have tried that ages ago.” Matt flushed at the comment and smacked your leg, chuckling half-heartedly.
“Don’t tease.”
“Why not?” You sighed, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. “That was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.”
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kyokutsu-sama · 10 months ago
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Headcanons
A/n: So, I'm going o invest more content on my favorite captains of bc because they're hot , badass and deserve all world's attention. Here's some sfw/nsfw headcanons for them✨️
Tw: Nsfw content
_____________________________
Yami :
Sfw
He's super protective of you and that's something he doesn't hide. If any man messes with you (even if you are strong), that guy is officially dead.
You are the only person he allows to pick up his sword and use it on a battle. He trusts you so take good care of his katana because this man is broke and can't afford a new one.
He also likes to go out with you and take you out drinking or playing cards. If you win a bet against him, be prepared because he won't give up until he wins... or until he falls asleep from drinking. He's a terrible gambler but he refuses to accept that.
You usually train together and he likes to see you push your limits. He also likes it when you go on a mission with him so he can see this. He's proud of you and your power.
If he's having another one of his daily battles in the bathroom, you'll be the only one who can come in and give him the toilet paper he's missing because Asta forgot to change it.
(Asta run for your life)
Nsfw
I don't need to tell you that this man is rough and will surpass his limits in the sheets. Good luck to you and goodbye legs.
He loves being between your legs, devouring you and tasting everything you have to give him, probably even getting "drunk" on your juices.
He likes to see you squirm beneath him, the marks he left on you covering your skin (Yes, he really leaves a lot of marks on you), your eyes rolling and your voice calling him so well. Poor bed and poor other members who will listen to you all night
His hands will be all over your body, a lot of physical contact during the act. He loves it when you run your hands over his body too. You can even scratch his skin and bite, he doesn't feel pain. Only pleasure.
There's a lot of dirty talk.
And don't try to tease him, you don't know the risk you're running. Listen, he has no problem with that thing called public places. He puts you against a wall and does whatever he wants.
Regarding the fact that you can't walk properly, don't worry, he carries you everywhere in his strong arms.
He's just my type fr🤭
William :
Sfw
Super cute and kind to you. He is super careful with you, always giving you those sweet smiles that makes your heart melt.
He always likes to check on you to make sure there's nothing wrong or if you're 100% fine.
He's shy and whenever you hold his hand in public or kiss his cheek, his face will heat up from blushing. You just laugh at his cuteness.
He really likes hugs after a long day of work, he feels like you calm his heart and give him good energy.
He's fallen for you since the day you traced his scar with your fingers softly and told him how beautiful he still was. No one had ever done this and he was moved by this affection.
You were proud of him for who he was and not for his appearance and that made him shed little tears.
Nsfw
Do not proceed without your full consent. He wants you to feel good and comfortable.
The touch is soft and delicate, lots of tender kisses on your skin. He doesn't like to leave many marks like Yami, HOWEVER... if you leave some on him, it will cause "things" in him. (It turns him on but he's ashamed to admit it)
I see him being a sub and will let you take over things a lot of the time because he just loves it when you do.
Touch his body, kiss him, take him deep and slow as he likes. This man will have to fight with himself not to come when you ride him and look into his eyes. He goes crazy.
Very gentle with you after the act, always cleaning you and offering you everything you need.
(William, the door to my house is open... you know?🥹👉👈)
Fuegoleon :
Sfw
He is very serious in his role and always wants to have you by his side.
He loves your presence even though he is working hard, and if you help him he will thank you.
He might be a bit like William in the sense that he may be a little shy when you hold his hand or kiss him in public, although he doesn't blush like him.
He always tries to keep you protected and advises you not to talk to Mereoleona too much, he's afraid she'll make fun of him in front of you or drag you to the volcano where she trains.
This woman is dangerous, but having her as a sister-in-law is a gift tbh. She'll beat the shit out of everyone if anyone touches her brother's beautiful girlfriend.
Leo will probably love you because you love and care for his older brother. You two will be great friends.
He likes it when you run your hands gently through his hair when he is resting. This is comfortable and relaxing.
Nsfw
He's the middle ground between going fast when he's feeling excited (after you teased him all day) and going slow and sensual when he comes into the bedroom tired and just wants you to put your arms around him.
He dominates, he likes to be on top, seeing you beneath him arching when his fingers caress you or when he grabs your thighs and thrust you. He lives to see you squirming on the mattress.
He likes to praise you, whispering in your ear how beautiful you are, which gives you goosebumps.
Please run your hands down his back, he loves it and it makes him go deeper.
He hugs and kisses you a lot after he finishes. He is much more relaxed between four walls than in a public place where he hesitates a little with the PDA.
Nozel :
Sfw
Dear, be patient with him. He may be cold to the core but his eyes... they never lie. His look at you is something that many royal ladies who notice him would like to get from him.
He doesn't make long vows of love but look, he's the best with actions and no one will come close to you because he defends you a lot.
Although he and Yami don't get along, they are both overprotective lovers.
Even if you're not from a royal family or something, he won't let anyone discriminate against you for that. That person will disappear without a trace and it's all the work of Nozel fucking Silva.
Serious, but until you give him that little smile that makes him look away in embarrassment. You can see the tips of his ears turning red and you tease him for that.
He ends up smiling for a second and you feel like the luckiest person in the world to witness this event.
Nsfw
Don't underestimate this man, he is a dom and will always show you who is in control. Although I think he has a certain look that he would like you to take control.
Don't fight back, obey. He doesn't accept a no and if you're a brat to him, he'll punish you for it.
If he's having a bad day, he'll probably come to the bedroom to have you in his sheets and relieve himself. Goodbye legs once again...
He will also mark you, he is the only one who can have you and the marks made for him only turns him on.
Not only in the bedroom does he like to see you squirming and calling for him, but also on the office table while he takes a break from work. I don't see him being shy if someone came in but he would probably threaten anyone if they even thought about telling what they saw.
He makes sure you're okay afterwards and will put you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.
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syluriar · 1 month ago
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the gift of life - sylus x reader
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a/n: so this was a request from @gamergirl31201 who wanted a fluffy dad dragon! sylus. like most of my writings i may have gone overbaord with this but i enjoyed writing this a lot. plus think of it as healing after his myth (i'm still grieving).
warnings: little au of his myth where we live happily ever after. pregnancy, both sylus & reader having some fear for the future of their child but they comfort each other through it and most importantly - fluff! sylus might be ooc as i am trying to learn how to write him.
word count: 2368
“I can move on my own.”
“Yes, and?”
“So there’s no need for you to carry me everywhere.”
“On the contrary, beloved, I do.” He chuckles as you wriggle more in his hold, it’s futile and you know it, but if you gave into everything he did, well…life would be boring. “It’s not just you alone in your body anymore.” He sets you down gently on the plush and ever so soft bed he managed to steal from an abandoned home, the old one before was distasteful for you to rest on now, he told you as he flung it outside, not caring where it landed. You would have been annoyed he did it without asking, but you had it admit it was much more comfortable, and better styled.
He rearranges the pillows before allowing you to lie back, making sure they cushion your neck and lower back. You sigh softly as you relax, your body and feet sore all day despite not being able to do anything at all, as your dragon deems you too important to deal with such mundane tasks. You know he would do anything for you, but it’s different this time. No burning buildings, dead corpses filling churches, and no destruction at all. Instead he gives you the food you want without complaints, gifts you the finest clothing to make you as comfortable as possible, he’s even gone out to learn different things of pregnancy, labour and after the birth.
He’s already had your heart, but you would easily give it to him again and again.
“How are you today? Any sickness? Food cravings?” He looks down at you as he rapid fires you questions. It’s the same ones everyday and you never get annoyed by it, he’s just caring for you, an affection both of you have given each other.
You hum and place a hand on your stomach. “My feet are sore, other then that I’m good. Just can’t wait for this little one to come.”
He lifts your legs up, allowing him to sit and rest your legs in his lap. He takes off your soft footwear, his tail putting them on the floor as his hands begin to massage a foot, your shoulders instantly relaxing. You rest your hands on your stomach, feeling the large bump that has been growing for months now.
He follows your hand and his lips curl into a smile. “I shouldn’t be long now, around two more months I believe.”
Two months too long. Yes, bearing his child was a gift. You remember his wide and surprised eyes when you gave him the news. He was silent at first and you were afraid he wouldn’t want a child. But then he held you, and when you looked in his eyes you saw the softness that you only knew, and the wondrous love that filled them. His hands had gently held your waist before brushing over your then flat stomach, his voice in disbelief. “You are carrying our child?”
“Yes,” You whisper, the conversation was intimate, despite it being only the two of you in the building. “Are you pleased?”
He chuckled then and pressed your foreheads together. “My beloved. I am more than pleased. I am in joy.” He lifted your chin before placing his hands on your cheeks, caressing them. “I had not ever thought of being loved, and now…you are with our child…I had never dreamed of having one.” He chuckled again, softly this time. “Of course, all of that has changed because of you.”
Ever since then you were hardly left out of his sight, no more going on quests for revenge or even going out to the market for food. Sylus did everything you ever needed, even having the assistant of crows he managed to tame to do some biddings, like bringing back baskets of bread, or stealing jewelry to shower you in affection more. He even took off his armour, a confession of fear that he could hurt you and the baby and he didn’t want to risk, though you had cried at the confession, it gave you a good excuse to gawk at him more.
That day you looked in the mirror and saw a small bump from your belly that had you ecstatic, you couldn’t help but caress it, officially knowing there was a child growing inside you. The thought of the baby growing, which meant your belly would get bigger depressed you greatly within seconds.
When Sylus saw you he instantly worried and wasted no time asking what was wrong, and you cried to him. “I’m going to gain more weight and I won’t look beautiful anymore, won’t I?”
The look on Sylus’ face makes you laugh now, the furrow in his brows and the grimace on his lips. “What nonsense is that, beloved? You are my treasure are you not? You are always beautiful.” He held you in his arms, hands on your stomach once more, he had been doing that everyday, and it brought a nice sense of comfort. “And weight gain? That just means I have more of you to hold, and isn’t that a good thing?”
And not to mention the food cravings, you felt disgusted with what you wanted, but Sylus always gave it to you. “If that is what you want then you’ll have it.” It was one of his favourite things to say to you, as he could always back it up.
Yes, you’ve had quite some hardships with the pregnancy, but Sylus has been perfect, and you were forever grateful it was his child you are carrying, and not some lowlife from your village.
“I know but still,” You huff and bury yourself in the pillows more. “I can’t wait for her to be in our arms.”
“Her?” Sylus questions as his eyes flick back up to you, hands pressing hard points near your toes. “You are so sure our child is a girl?”
You nod. “Perfectly. Call it a mothers intuition.” You proudly say, the word mother coming from your mouth fills you with excitement. Being raised in the Sanctuary you were told that all women bear children soon after they marry, and many have more than one. You didn’t really enjoy hearing those things, is that all what women were seen for? Marriage and children? It left a bitter taste in your mouth that you forced yourself to swallow.
You didn’t think much of those subjects when you were thrown into the Abyss, your thoughts solely on the dragon you found there and having him help you take revenge. But everything had changed ever since you met him, even on marriage and children. If it was with Sylus, it was a yes to both.
You jump at the sudden press on your forehead. Blinking up, you see it was Sylus’ finger, his brows furrowed. “What troubles you?”
Nothing gets past him. “I’m afraid of what the future holds for her. As a woman she will be told she will only be good to marry and bear children, and not to carry weapons or even fight. It worries me.”
There’s a small silence in the room after your words. Sylus retracts his finger and moves on to massage your other foot. “Trapped over a thousand years, yet some things stay the same.” He says with a scorn. “I had some hope that humans had changed a few things, but it looks like I am the fool for thinking such things.”
You chuckle with disdain, anger threatening to rise inside you at your past and the future of your child.
But then Sylus holds your hands with such care and gazes into your eyes. “If our child is a girl, we shall teach her to stand strong like us, to speak her mind and always prepare. No humans shall tell her what she must do, she will decide that for herself.”
You smile at him, already picturing the image of a small girl copying your moves as you wave a sword around. “Perhaps when she is old and trained enough, we’ll forge her a sword.”
“Made only by the best metal in existence.” Sylus agrees, and you know he holds promise to those words, and that’s more than enough to put you at ease. As he resumes massaging your foot, a question comes to mind.
“Do you have any thoughts on a name yet?”
In the beginning you were adamant not wanting any names that mixed in with the Santacury, nothing that mentioned a god, sin and sorcerer. You wanted a name that was powerful, that your daughter would be proud of having, especially if trouble comes her way.
“Seeing as how my beloved is convinced our child is a girl, she will need a name worthy of her power, strength and beauty.” Sylus voices your own thoughts, his voice full of warmth and love.
“It will be hard, but I’m sure we can find one.” You assure him, knowing you two won’t settle for anything less.
A few minutes later when he’s done massaging your feet, he lays beside you, a hand threading through your hair while the other rubs your bump.
He hums and whispers in your ear. “A name has come to mind…”
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Did you see that Father?” A young bubbly voice asked through the fields of flowers. The air was warm, a perfect day to eat outside and enjoy the scenery. One would think of the beautiful red flowers, the sun shining brightly in the sky and the birds singing as they flew over.
But the scene before you was better than any of that, as you watched your child excitedly jump before their father.
“I was flying for more than ten seconds!”
“I saw, little one.” Sylus chuckled warmly. “You’re getting better every day, certainly better than me when I was your age.” He boops her nose and receives a giggle in return. “Now, shall we rest for a bit?
She shakes her head. “No, I want another go!”
“I believe you said that 5 turns ago.”
“Just one more, please Father?” She pleads to him with her large eyes, and you chuckle as you know Sylus can never resist them, she has had him wrapped around her finger the moment she was born.
It was a long and painful day, the contraptions started late in the afternoon, the pain was hard and you thought it couldn’t get any worse. But the minutes went by and it kept coming back, the time between them getting shorter and more painful. Sylus had laid you on the bed, a large bowl of water nearby to clean the sweat off your face and another bowl of ice for you to eat during the labor, hearing that it helped reduce risks, what risks you didn’t hear, but you had as much as you could before you started to push.
It was hours, the sun had settled by the time you had given birth. You were exhausted, but the sound of your child crying pushed it all away, and within seconds you held the bundle of joy in your arms, clean and wrapped warmly in a blanket.
“Finally, your out.” You jested. Your child had ceased crying and started up at you with small eyes. Now that she was in your arms, it finally dawned on you that had a child, a living and breathing life that you and Sylus had created, and she was perfect.
You turned to see Sylus, staring at you in admiration. His eyes wide and lips smiling.
“She’s finally here.”
He signs, one that is full of relief and sheer love and devotion. He holds your cheek as he kisses your head. “You are astonishing, my beloved. Simply astounding.” He then sits beside you, an arm resting against yours that holds your daughter, the other stroking through your hair. “I believed that you were strong before when you were having your revenge, but this…you truly are strong. Magnificent.”
His words make you tear up, your used to his sweet and cherishing words, but these are different. They aren’t words after a bloodshed, they’re words after giving life.
Looking back at your daughter, you catch her features and giggle. “Looks like she’s having your hair,”
He laughs, a sound intoxicating that you want to bottle it up and listen to it whenever you desire. “And she has your eyes, just one beautiful thing she will inherit from you.”
“From us.” You correct him. “She is your child as well, and she will inherit great things from you.”
Sylus only smiled at you back then before hugging you tightly, there was a nagging feeling that he was hiding something, but the labour and birth of your daughter had taken over your mind and body. It was only when her horns started growing did you notice the solemn expression on his face.
“Just like you worry for her future as a woman, I worry for her when she inherits my features.” His fingers gently caressing her horns as he held her in her arms, it broke your heart to see such an expression on his face, especially when it concerned your daughter.
“She will love them, that I am sure, and we will keep her safe.” You promised him. “Remember your words. We will teach her to stand strong.”
He sighed in your arms as your cradled his head, his head leaning on your chest and listening to your heartbeat, one of the few sounds that helped him relax. “Is killing those who dare oppose her off the table?”
You grinned. “Never.”
Now at the age of five she stands, horns peeking from her long white hair, her eyes coloured like yours, beaming. Her tail, while small, was fierce when she used it to practice her attacks. Her giggles fill your ears as Sylus lifts her up in his arms, her hands touching his horns and she looks at him with such admiration. “I can’t wait to be like you, Father!”
“You won’t be like me, little one,” He says softly, and kisses her forehead before pressing them together. “You will be better, our Sigrid.”
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togament · 7 months ago
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“𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: ‘𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐬?’”
written in their P.O.V.
pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.)
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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : spicy spicy boyfriends, suo is a FREAK (but we love it), sakura is a precious bean, ume is *incomprehensible sounds emanating from my face hole*, ume’s is longer than the others (hah) i got carried away, swearing ofc i can’t express emotions without them i so sorry i do try, fem!reader, nipple talk.
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𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.
"WHAT-????" I scream into the microphone and it screeches. shit my face feels like it's on fire. I turn my head slightly to catch my reflection in the window beside me--SHIT I'm blushing again. "w-why would you ask me that?!", I try my best to tone it down a little but UGH-I can't help it. She asks the question again, pushing the microphone towards my lips. I angle away as best I can but she's persistent. "n-n-not answering that!" my eyes focus on anything BUT her. darting everywhere, on the chair, the stack of papers on her table, but she's too hard to resist. i turn my head slightly to look at her direction. fucking hell, she's got her chest out slightly, tits practically begging me to look at 'em. god. that shirt looks so fucking good on her. that the new one she just bought? shit, she's coming closer. I can see the outline of her bra--FUCK-WAS I STARING?????
...so boobs?" she asks so smugly. damn it.
"...yeah tits." HER tits, if you want me to be specific.
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𝐔𝐌𝐄.
another afternoon, another quick little date with the love of my life — and my girlfriend. kidding, kidding! I was tending to my veggies as I often do after school with my girlfriend helping. noticing her absence (and silence, shocker!) I call out for her, “baby? where’d you run off to?” then I hear a little giggle to my left, a pitter patter of her shoes against the wooden board and a slight ringing. “boobs or butts?” she asks and I turn to face her only to have a mouthful of the plastic microphone. “PWEH-! baby-“ I say as I chuckle, wiping my mouth. “boobs or butt? is this an interview? any cameras around?” looking around playfully, I crane my neck around her. for a sec there I genuinely thought I was on camera. but then I look at her and she’s waiting for an answer. Hmm. Toughie. “This!” taking one of my gloves off, I pinch her cheek with my clean hand but she shakes her head. “Not in the choices, babe. Try again.” she says. gosh she looks so cute when she’s trying to be serious. “Wrong answer, huh? Let’s see…”
I try my damndest to be serious too, pursing my lips in deep thought, giving her a once twice thrice over just to be extra sure. I know she’s squatting there waiting for me to answer but how can I? she’s perfect in every way! shoot. think, ume, think! I drag my gaze from her face, to… her chest, heh. nice. to her tummy, to her… oh. damn. right.
“…yer thighs.” I say almost quietly. Who WAS that? “say that again, babe?” she asks, pushing the microphone closer. she wants me to say it again? maaaan. I chuckle, shaking my head gently at her.
“can I just show you? point at it, baby?”
“nope.”
HECK.
“…yer thighs. I like napping on them after I’m done gardening…” I unintentionally trail off. I clearly got more things on my mind now. My mind’s miles away from innocence. God- I love leaving my mark on them, sucking hickies on them when I’m going down on her. I fucking love it when she tightens them around my head when she’s about to cum. She worries she’d suffocate me but it only makes me want her more. I swallow dryly. damn it-my boner’s tenting in my jeans and I know she can tell.
“and?” she prods and I let out a shaky breath. she’s biting her lower lip, shifting her weight while she’s squatting. she’s worked up too huh?
“—obsessed. when you hold me closer to your cunt when-“ is it getting hotter here? she’s putting her microphone down. I take my other glove off while keeping my eyes on her.
“…when what?”
“can I please show you? pretty please?” can’t help it. I take her free hand to palm me and I let out a soft whimper, eyebrows knitted together.
“yes. yes please.”
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𝐒𝐔𝐎.
"oh? someone's curious," leaning close to her, I ghost my fingers along the inside of her wrist just to fluster her. oho, her breathing is staggered now, chest rising and falling ever so slightly. I do have an answer but I just want to toy with my love. Just a little bit wouldn't hurt. "what's gotten you worked up so quickly, dove?" I purr, making sure to whisper it good in her ear. she lets out a shudder, almost melting. goodness, do I adore how she reacts. like clockwork, that earns me a gentle slap on my hand. ah. I suppose I deserved that.
"boobs or butt, huh?" I pretend to ponder, looking up and pinching my chin for maximum effect, knowing full well I have an answer set and ready. turning to meet her eyes, holding her hand that's steadily holding the plastic microphone. and with the most serious voice I could muster, I speak into it, "your nipples."
hm. that must have shocked her. she's silent. taking the initiative, I continue, "I love how.. sensitive they are." cooing, I trace a finger along her jaw and down the line of her neck, featherlike. "I love how I can coax the most delicious moans from you that way--" oh, she's lowering her microphone now. continuing, I push some hair behind her ear, fingers now teasing the shell of it, "--you seem to like it especially when I suck on one while I roll the other between my fingers. fuck, you sound so beautiful when you beg for more." mhm. her breathing's shallow now. she's leaning her head away. "someone's eager." I lean in to press a gentle kiss to her neck, lingering my lips on her pulse. “do you need more details from me? I could always elaborate-“ she’s pushing me back now. I like where this is going.
"screw the interview. just fuck me already, hayato suo."
"as you wish, my dove."
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a/n: SCCCCCRRREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! first time writing things in the guys’ POV I hope I did each of their individual personalities justice. Sakura’s was the hardest but I was flying off with Ume as you could tell. Also!!!! I forgot who it was but someone reblogged one of my HCs with a tag saying Hayato means hawk and that doves are their natural prey and 😳😳😳😳😳😳 that was purely unintentional but the connection they made was so perfect. I’m making it a permanent fixture for whenever I write for suo. Thank you, user. I would tag you but djjfkdkfkd i hope you see this!!!! Also thank YOU so much for reading all the way to the end btw!!!!!! Ily babycakes. part 2 coming soon! I WANNA WRITE FOR KIRYU I HAVE IDEAS AND I AMDJFJJDJD HE. Ok.
@interstellar-inn ⭐️
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